by Jill Monroe
“I’m really glad for you,” he told her without a trace of irony in his voice. In fact, he was practically expressionless, which was faintly disappointing. She wanted him mad.
“I had dedicated my book to you, but my editor wouldn’t let me use the word asshole. I couldn’t think of anything better, so I dropped the whole idea.” She paused, then her voice grew firm. “But the sentiment behind chapter nine is all about you.”
“Well, I always wondered if you thought about me once you left for Reno.” His eyes met hers, and something a little bit like hunger simmered in their depths. “I only wanted you to be happy,” he said without anger.
“Is that why you decided to post the tape on the Internet?” she asked him dryly.
“What tape?” he asked frowning.
She gave him a direct stare. Made a subtle head motion. “You know what tape. The tape. Of us.”
Understanding appeared in his expression. “Oh, that tape. On the Internet. What are you talking about?”
Cassie eyed the seven or so shrimp she still had left. She hated letting the things go to waste. They were delicious.
She glanced at Dirk’s confused face.
“I thought you might conveniently forget. I came prepared.” Cassie reached for the envelope that had an image of him freeze-framed from the tape. It was a particularly embarrassing shot, with his face squeezed in a look of torture. Not the kind of photo you wanted your buddies to see. She’d also included a slip of paper with one of the Web addresses where she found excerpts of their tape.
She slid the package across the table to him. “This should refresh your memory.”
He didn’t reach for it. “You could have told me this on the phone.”
“True, but over the telephone I couldn’t tell you face-to-face what a despicable individual you are.”
Cassie stood, pulling the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Seeing that tape made me dream up a whole new idea for a book. It will be all about the art of faking orgasm. And believe me when I say it will be dedicated to you. After all, you were the inspiration.”
She turned on her delicate low heel and left.
DIRK TOSSED HIS NAPKIN on the table and watched as the one woman he’d never forgotten walk away from him. If anything, her ass had only gotten better with time. He reached across and grabbed one of her shrimp, then plopped it in his mouth.
The waiter came by with the bottle of wine. “Would you like to inspect the cork?”
Dirk glanced at the nearby couple celebrating. If everything had gone according to plan long ago, Dirk and Cassie would be toasting their fifth anniversary around this time. A little Cassie or little Dirk might have even made his or her appearance by now.
“Why don’t you send it to that table over there,” he said, indicating the joyful couple. “I’ll take the bill.”
Twenty minutes later, Dirk entered his house and stalked straight toward his computer, flinging his tie to the couch as he went. Although he suspected what was inside, he tore open the envelope while waiting for his software to load.
He glanced at the picture she’d supplied. Cassie had obviously printed the grainy image directly from the site. Unmistakably him. He winced at his agonized facial expression, clearly in the throes of passion. No one should ever see themselves like that.
He typed in the URL she’d given him, and the images loaded almost instantly. Cassie’s bedroom. He recognized the pink flowery sheets, the stuffed green bear he’d won for her at the fair and her Leonardo DiCaprio poster on the wall.
And there they were.
His fists balled up in anger. Angry and mad for so many things. Anger at letting Cassie go. Anger for her not giving him the chance he thought he needed to test the waters.
Hell, he’d only ever really dated one person in his life. Would it have hurt to evaluate their relationship by seeing other people? Cassie was his first date, his first kiss, his first…everything. He could also tack on to the end of that his only…everything. At twenty it had made perfect sense for them to “try out” other people to make sure they were meant to be together. He’d been an idiot to think she’d go along with the plan. He’d hurt her and she’d never forgiven him. Dirk learned too late how wrong he’d been, because nothing and no one ever compared to Cassie.
After she told him to get lost, and he realized what a colossal fool he’d been, he tried to win her back. He’d called, sent her flowers his college budget could barely afford and tried to see her on their college break schedules. But Cassie had distanced herself from him. A coolness settled around her, one he had no chance at melting. Finally Dirk realized things would never be how they once were. Cassie had moved on, and so had he.
Until she called him. He was a grown man, with a wealth of experiences under his belt, but when he heard her voice, suddenly he was that lovesick boy again.
An image of his hands caressing her beautiful bare breasts flashed on the screen. How could he have let this happen? He was the one who was supposed to protect Cassie Coleman. A feminine moan emanated from the speakers on his computer. Cassie’s feminine moan. Other people were seeing this, watching her. Something only meant for him. He’d failed her miserably and he could kick his own ass for letting it happen.
Another moan, and his body tightened. Anger became lust. It shouldn’t be, but there it was. Everything about her had turned him on. Still did. When she walked in tonight with that blue dress, he was instantly tongue-tied and awkward, but knew with full-on certainty that this was what he wanted. Too bad he’d been too much of a fool not to hang on to the best thing that ever happened to him.
Dirk shut off the screen and headed for the kitchen. He needed a beer. Actually he wanted something harder. Getting drunk didn’t sound half bad right now. But he needed to stay sharp in order to figure out how that tape got out of his possession. Tomorrow he’d start tracking it all down.
He still had one more thing to do tonight. After kicking off his shoes, he strode to the bookshelf. He opened up his well-worn copy of How Could I Have Made Such a Mistake?—How To Have Mature, Adult Relationships While Still Hating the One Who Broke Your Heart.
He was pretty sure he knew the topic of chapter nine, but he just wanted to confirm it in his mind. He flipped to the appropriate page.
There Always Has To Be One Person You Hate.
He closed the book with a smile. Yep, as he expected. Cassie hated him.
Sure, he probably deserved it, but that hadn’t prevented him from harboring hope that she might want to rekindle things this evening. Who could blame him? After rebuffing him for so long, she finally called out of the blue.
He should be a nice guy, take care of the tape, then move on.
The book fell open on his lap, revealing the back cover with her picture. He traced the curve of her cheek, like he’d done many times before.
Dirk was done being the nice guy. He wanted Cassie Coleman, and he wouldn’t get her by backing down. Yes, he was through playing nice. The nice guy never got the girl anyway.
He planned to get the girl. And keep her this time.
DANNI GOT COMFORTABLE on the blanket in front of the fire Eric had built. The blaze sent sparks and smoke into the air until they disappeared from sight. Out here, under the open expanse of the Nevada night sky, the stars were bright and many.
“One thing I never took for granted is the stars. I missed seeing them.” She stared up at the moonless sky.
Eric settled beside her on the blanket, his big body lending her warmth as the desert air cooled. He rolled on his back and looked at her. “I know what you mean,” he said.
“A city boy, are you?” she asked.
He sat up abruptly. “Sometimes. How about a marshmallow? I brought some to roast.”
Her mouth watered at the thought of warm, gooey marshmallows. “You certainly know how to get to a girl’s heart,” she said as he handed her a stick with a marshmallow on the tip.
Together they scooted closer to the fire. Their s
houlders bumped, and she’d be lying if she didn’t admit even that mediocre excuse for a caress felt good. Despite that naughty kiss in his office earlier today, Eric hadn’t made a move to touch her.
There’d been plenty of opportunity for touching during their date. And for getting wet. Panning for gold turned out to be very physical work, and Eric approached it with a seriousness she’d come to recognize as his standard operating procedure. So when she “accidentally” splashed him with some water as she sifted the sand in her pan, it was really for his own good.
The fact that Eric “unintentionally” smeared cold wet mud on her calf only made Danni respect him more. They bumped elbows as they scraped out sand from the riverbed, and brushed feet in the cold water of the Truckee River. And not once did Eric make any move toward her. Really, he should have done something by now. Shouldn’t he?
The fact was, she’d been pretty much off kilter and confused with Eric since the moment he first asked for a dryer sheet.
Now they sat side by side on a blanket toasting their marshmallows and she hadn’t gotten lips yet. She tried to ignore her feelings of confused frustration. Silence surrounded them, only the crackle of the popping fire breaking the stillness. And suddenly she realized she didn’t need talking. Or kissing. Or anything. Right now was perfect.
Her marshmallow turned golden brown and she pulled her stick away from the fire. With careful fingers, she tugged the marshmallow off her stick and put it into her mouth. She closed her eyes with a slow moan. It tasted so good. “Delicious,” she said as she licked her lips.
“Looked pretty good from here, too,” he commented.
Their gazes locked, and even in the dark she could see the desire tinting his eyes. Perfect moment or not a minute ago, this was more like it. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever let a marshmallow get truly toasted. Usually I become so anxious I get it too close to the flame and it catches on fire.”
He smiled as he stuck another marshmallow onto her stick. “I like slow and deliberate. Smooth and purposeful. That’s how you get the satisfying outcome.”
Okay, they weren’t talking about toasting marshmallows. Her nipples hardened and her mouth went dry. Eric was giving her a preview of how he’d make love to her. Slow and deliberate. Smooth and purposeful. Satisfying outcome no doubt.
A shiver ran down her spine, and her skin flushed with need. She wanted Eric. Wanted him badly.
Strange because they were opposites. Eric was slow and deliberate, but she always thought of herself more like an arrow. Always moving. It didn’t matter which direction her arrow pointed, just as long as it was moving. Now she didn’t want to go so fast. She wanted to slow it down. Live the moment.
“I thought tonight might be dinner and a movie,” she teased. “Typical date stuff.”
Eric made a scoffing sound. “How can you get to know someone that way?”
His free hand reached for her chin, drawing her face closer. “And Danni, I do want to get to know you,” he said. Then his mouth found hers in a gentle exploration.
Finally. She began to tighten her arms around his body. Wait, her stick. She opened her eyes to figure out where to dump it when she spotted his and laughed.
“Your marshmallow is on fire,” she told him.
Eric gave her a crooked smile then gave his stick and hers a toss, sending them both into the fire.
He pulled her against his chest that let her know this would be no gentle exploration. That’s exactly what she wanted. Danni met him lip for lip in a kiss filled with hunger and desire.
7
“HE WALKED ME TO THE DOOR, gave me a kiss good-night, and he left,” Danni told Cassie later that night, as she twisted the phone cord between her fingers. A heated rush ran along her skin as she remembered that amazing kiss.
“Hmm, he didn’t even try to maneuver himself inside? Did you at least invite him in?”
Danni’s shoulders slumped. “No and yes. He declined. I don’t get it. We had a great date. I couldn’t have organized something as romantic without a lot of recon. And when he kissed me—”
“Wait. You’ve skipped something. I thought it was a quick kiss good-night. A peck, but this sounds different.”
It certainly felt a lot different than a chaste brush of his lips. A warmth turned her muscles all soft. Despite her best efforts not to turn into a sap, Danni knew she was smiling. “No, it was earlier. As we were roasting marshmallows. His caught on fire and suddenly we were kissing.”
“You understand I’m working really hard not to make a sarcastic comment about roasting marshmallows.”
Danni laughed. “Yes, and I appreciate the effort. I really do.” She blew out her breath, making her bangs ruffle. “Man, when did you become the cynic? Usually I reserve that spot.”
“Friend role reversal. It’s common in long-term female relationship bonds. So, you got lips. How was it?”
Danni sucked in a breath, her skin was achy with the erotic memory of Eric’s arms around her. His big, hard body pressed tight against hers. “Amazing,” she said, hating herself for giving into a dreamy sigh. “It was strange. We just kissed and kissed and kissed.”
“Ahhh, you’re bringing back young dating memories,” Cassie said, her tone wistful. “That’s called macking. I love dates like those. I used to do that with Dirk on my back porch. He’d leave and all I could think of was when we’d kiss again.” She made a little growling sound. “Now those kisses are immortalized on the Internet.”
That’s exactly how Eric had left her. Thinking only of him. And when she’d get the opportunity for more macking. And she’d felt off balance ever since.
Some of the glow shifted downward and faded. Was that Eric’s angle? Had he left her wanting more tonight, so she’d be clamoring for him later?
Now who was being the cynic? Danni shook her head. Smooth and purposeful. That’s how Eric lived his life. That would be the way he dealt with relationships. She’d have a lot of fun trying to break him out of his staid ways. And soon. She wanted him. In spite of how off balance he made her feel.
“Speaking of Dirk. How did it go tonight?” Danni asked, ready to shift the conversation.
There was a long, telling pause before Cassie answered. “Let’s say I won’t be needing those acting skills.”
Danni laughed. “So, no spark still there?”
Silence was her only answer. Danni sat up a tad straighter, her ears perked a little. Was this avoidance or was her friend thinking?
“Cassie?” she prompted.
“No. None. No spark at all,” her friend rushed to tell her.
Liar. But that was okay. She’d let her friend work it out on her own. “So, had he really let himself go? How bad did he look?” Danni asked, trying to keep the smile out of her voice.
“Unfortunately he didn’t look bad at all,” Cassie said with a grumble. “Don’t worry. I did what I had to do. I told him off. I left him with a huge bill, too,” she said chuckling.
Danni gave her friend a mental high five. “Excellent. So you’re driving back tomorrow?”
“Absolutely. First thing. I’ll call you when I get back.”
THEY SAID THEIR goodbyes, and Cassie replaced the receiver on the pink phone in her old bedroom. Choosing that pink phone seemed a million years ago. Her gaze scanned the bedroom of her teenage years. Mom hadn’t done much to it except take down her old posters.
Cassie tossed her blue dress over a chair and pulled on a UNLV T-shirt and some sweatpants. She slumped on the mattress and slipped off her watch to set it on the table next to her bed. That table had once basically been an homage to her relationship with Dirk. Pictures of him. Pictures of them together. But after that second year at college, she’d tossed every last one of the photos into a shoe box and shoved it under the bed. She still remembered the hurt and pain she felt when she first saw him with another girl.
Cassie sank to her knees and yanked the box out from under the bed frame. Still there.
As a
licensed counselor with years of training and experience, she knew removing the photos but not destroying them was her way of keeping hope alive that her relationship with Dirk would one day repair itself.
As a grown woman, she knew it was time to pitch them all into the trash. Maybe even set them on fire. Now that was a great idea. In her book she’d even given a few safety tips on having a cleansing fire ritual with relationship memorabilia. Her mom wouldn’t be back from her Red Hat meeting for several more hours, so she’d have plenty of time to set Dirk’s face aflame without having to offer any explanations.
This felt right.
Grabbing a bottle of wine from the fridge, and a metal coffee can from the garage, she headed for the backyard. Cassie yanked the photos from the frames and dumped them into the can. With the water hose on standby, she struck a match and set everything aflame.
The heat of the blaze warmed her cheeks and her spirits.
In her book she’d suggested inviting friends to watch the fire or even playing a favorite “together” song as the flames caught. But she liked the simplicity of tonight, with only the crickets and the crackle and pop of the fire to keep her company. She smiled as she took a swig from the wine bottle.
The smell of sulfur from the match and burning paper filled the air. Bits of ash floated into the night sky like black snow in reverse. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. She totally embraced the calm. Not a regret in sight.
The creak of her mother’s trellis alerted Cassie that she was no longer alone. Normally the sounds of someone climbing over the fence would have alarmed her, but some sixth sense told her the person now destroying her mother’s roses was Dirk and not some intruder. The groan of straining wood ended with a sudden snap from the aged fence and the sound of a large body hitting the ground.
“Damn it,” said the owner of the large body.
Yes, definitely Dirk.
The leaping flames died down, and with a few squirts of the hose, the fire sizzled and spurted to its end. She watched as the last orange ember turned to gray ash. How many times had Dirk snuck over that fence? Too many times to count.