Bare Essentials

by Leslie Kelly Jill Shalvis

  Insanity.

  Then, when she thought she couldn’t get more conflicted, Kate dropped a bomb, saying that already Bare Essentials was such a success that it deserved a chance to become more than a revenge vehicle. She asked Cassie to stay to run it. Permanently. She said Cassie couldn’t be a model forever, and she was right. She said Cassie was made for such a thing, and she was right. She said Cassie seemed happier and more content here than she’d ever seen her and…Cassie was deeply afraid to admit that Kate was right yet again.

  So why did she feel such an inexplicable weight on her chest? She could hardly breathe because of it. Home alone late one night, she moved through the living room to the den, off of which was a sliding-glass door that led to the surprisingly large, lush, five-acre-long backyard.

  There was a lovely wooden deck opening up to that land, on which sat the hot tub that had become her best friend. She needed that friend now as her every muscle was screaming with a tension tighter than she’d felt when she’d been stalked right out of New York.

  The water was already hot, and if she’d had any energy left she might have whimpered in gratitude but her head was working on a more important issue.

  Her biggest worry of all wasn’t the town or the people in it. It wasn’t Kate or the store. It wasn’t even Pete.

  It was Tag.

  He wouldn’t come tonight—she’d asked him not to. He would want to talk, want to share, want to…well.

  She wanted to be with him, but for her, it was all physical. It was, damn it. It had to be, it was all she could give.

  But why? cried a very small, very in-the-minority voice in her head. Why did it have to be so shallow, like everything else in her life? Why couldn’t it be different? Deeper? More meaningful? Real.

  Because she didn’t know how to do that. She didn’t know if she even believed in it.

  So physical and shallow it would stay. And while that had been enough for Tag up until now, she was terrified things were changing. She was terrified he wanted more. And if he didn’t get more, she was terrified he’d walk away.

  At the bare minimum, he wanted to talk about his father. He thought he had to atone for that long-ago night in some way, and of course he didn’t.

  His father had told him…what, exactly? God, the humiliation of that night hadn’t eaten at her in a long time, but it was eating at her now.

  She cranked on the jets of the hot tub. Kicked off her sandals. Stared at the water. Had Sheriff Richard Taggart told his son how Cassie had dressed for the prom? What was it he’d said back then…Oh, yes, he’d said she’d dressed like she wanted it.

  Had he also told Tag where Biff was heading with her?

  And what had Tag really thought about that night?

  Why did she care? “I don’t,” she said out loud, and dropped her pants. Reached for the buttons on her shirt. “I don’t care—” But she did, and her voice caught. She cared about all of it. She cared about the store. She cared about the people she’d come to know—Stacie, Daisy, Diane. Damn it, she even cared about the stupid cat.

  But mostly she cared about a man she wasn’t sure about. With a vicious yank, she pulled off her blouse and stepped into the hot tub, sinking with a hissing breath into the hot bubbling water up to her chin.

  Putting her head back on the edge, she stared up at the stars. What if all these feelings were hers alone? What if he was just out for a good time, using her body as she was using his, and after she left he’d happily move on to the next woman?

  Oh, God. That thought tore her apart and she put a shaking hand to her mouth. No. No, this couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t be falling for this place, for the people in it. For Tag.

  No. She’d leave, soon as she could. Pack up and go, and if New York still wasn’t safe for her, she’d find somewhere else to go, somewhere where there were no strings attached, no—

  “Meow.” Miss Priss butted her jaw with her stubborn little head.

  Which for some reason made Cassie burst into tears.

  * * *

  TAG WORKED LATE, mostly because his head had not been into his paperwork for weeks now and he was helplessly behind.

  The extra hours in the quiet station didn’t help much. He had too much time to think. And what he was thinking about was crowding around his head, fighting for space.

  His father. They hadn’t spoken again, and Tag wasn’t sure they would.

  Then there was Kate, who’d actually called him today to see if he could check on Pete’s whereabouts. Tag had been checking daily to no avail. No one had located Pete and he could only hope the L.A. rumor was true.

  And then there was one stubborn, ornery, strong-willed, wildly passionate woman he couldn’t seem to get enough of. Cassie Tremaine Montgomery. Not his fantasy woman, that was certain, but somehow…better.

  She’d asked him not to come to her tonight, and he’d had every intention of keeping himself busy without her. Only there had been something in her voice that had disturbed him, something…lonely. She was hurting, and she was alone.

  In spite of all they’d given to each other—and taken—she was still struggling to keep him at arm’s length. She still wanted to separate the physical from the emotional. He’d been all for that, until he’d realized he wanted both. He wanted it all.

  And he wanted her to know that.

  Tonight.

  * * *

  SHE DIDN’T ANSWER the front door, but since the sunshine-yellow Porsche was blinding Tag from the driveway by moonlight, he knew she was home.

  The front door was locked. Good girl, he thought, and walked around the side yard to see if he could find her outside.

  The swing out there was empty. But from where he stood he could hear the jets of the hot tub, and continued on that way.

  He was caught up thinking about the things they could do to each other in the hot tub, so it took him a moment to assimilate what he was seeing.

  Cassie sitting in it. Long, wavy hair piled on top of her head. Bubbles surrounding her gorgeous body, hiding it from view.

  And she was quietly sobbing her heart out.

  “Cassie.” He was there in a heartbeat, kneeling on the deck behind her, reaching for her shoulders. “Cassie. Oh, baby.”

  She jerked at his touch, whirling around and backing away into the center of the tub while doing so, making him realize with the sound of the jets and her own grief, she hadn’t heard him approach.

  “You,” she said in such a way that told him exactly who was at the center of at least some of this.

  “Me,” he agreed. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  She wiped at her face. “What’s wrong is you’re trouncing on my privacy again.”

  “Cassie.” Knowing she was hurting made his heart hurt. “Come closer.”

  “No.”

  “Come out then.”

  “No.”

  She was still right there in front of him, but she’d suddenly retreated into herself before his very gaze. He had no idea what was going on in her head. And damn if he wasn’t very, very tired of that. “Fine. I’ll come in.”

  “Don’t be silly, Sheriff. You’d wrinkle your uniform.”

  Ah, the uniform. The center of every single argument they’d ever had. Well, he was done with that. Done with all of it. Frustrated, he kicked off his shoes.

  She craned her neck and stole a peek, probably hoping he’d left. Her eyes widened when his hands went to his belt. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting rid of the brick wall between us.” He shoved down his pants. Kicked them away with his shoes. Ripped off his shirt.

  And stood there in front of her bare-ass naked. “Not a sheriff right now, am I?”

  “It’s just a shirt. A pair of pants.”

  “I know that.” He put his foot in and refused to hiss out a breath at the hot water. “I’m just not sure you do.”

  “Put your clothes back on.”

  “Not until you understand.”

  “Understand
what? That you’re butting in where you’re not wanted?”

  “Understand that I’m just a man. A regular man.” He sank in to his waist and walked toward her, stopping when they were only a breath apart. “A regular man who’s falling in love with you.”

  12

  SHOCKED TO HER VERY CORE, Cassie stared at Tag for one long heartbeat before whirling away. Splashing. Trying to move. Damn the water now, because it slowed her down. She needed out. She needed to run. Not because he was a cop. Not because he’d invaded her space.

  But because he’d used the L-word.

  Not fair. Definitely foul. Definitely hitting below the belt.

  Oh, God. She needed air—

  Long, wet, strong arms encircled her from behind. Pulled her back against a warm, bare chest.

  “Cassie.” His mouth was at her ear, his voice low and anguished. “Don’t.”

  She kept fighting him. And as a woman who’d learned to fight very young, she was good. She was fast. She fought nasty.

  “No,” he murmured, sliding one arm across her front, the other low on her belly. “Shh.”

  Shh my ass, she thought, and fought harder, satisfied when water sloshed out of the tub, more satisfied when she elbowed him and heard the “Oomph” of his breath whoosh by her ear. But even as she fought, she felt hyperaware of two things.

  One, she was naked.

  Two, so was he.

  And all that nakedness was rubbing against each other—her back to his chest, her butt to his groin—and her anger was starting to turn into something else entirely, something beyond her control, something…something she no longer wanted to run from.

  But there was the principle of the matter, she couldn’t forget that. He’d betrayed her by adding all this emotion to the pot. “You shouldn’t have said that. That you were…that you might be…”

  “Falling in love with you?”

  Because she’d stopped fighting, he carefully loosened his hold but didn’t take his hands off her. They were standing in the middle of the tub, her back to his front, the bubbling water lapping at their hips. She became very conscious of the fact that her breasts were plumped up by his arm, that his other arm lay across the front of her so that his hand rested across the very top of her thighs.

  “I didn’t say it to hurt you.” His arms tightened, as if in a hug. “It’s just the truth and I wanted to share it with you.”

  She stared down at his big, tanned hand spread wide on her softer, whiter skin and recognized that by just his touching her, she felt very female, very special.

  Damn him. “Sharing is overrated.”

  “Yeah, you’re right, it can be overrated. With the wrong person, that is.” Slowly he turned her around in his arms. Let her look into his face, where she could see the hurt she’d put there.

  Her gut pinched. He’d given her so much, whether she wanted to admit it or not. She wasn’t that selfish that she couldn’t give him something back, just a little something. “I don’t care that you’re sheriff,” she whispered.

  “Okay. Define ‘don’t care.’”

  “I mean I’m getting used to seeing you in the uniform, okay? I’m getting used to it even if it means I can’t drive my car as fast. And…”

  “And…”

  “And…I guess I should say, I know you’re the same with or without the stupid badge.”

  “Ah.” His mouth lowered to within a fraction of hers. “Are you sure about that?”

  Her breath caught when his body slid against hers. Lord, he had such a beautiful, hard, sinewy, tough body. “Um…”

  “Maybe we should make sure. Tell me, for example, do I kiss the same with or without the uniform?” He put his mouth to hers, ripping a helplessly hungry sound from her throat.

  At that, he deepened the kiss, dancing his tongue to hers in a way that made her dig her fingers into his arms and press even closer to the body she couldn’t seem to get enough of. Obligingly, he leaned into her as the kiss spun out of control, leaned and leaned until suddenly they both fell back into one of the double seats of the hot tub, splashing water, laughing a little, but diving right back into the kiss.

  Breaking off for air, Tag put his wet mouth to her ear and slowly exhaled, making her shiver. Making her want more. Now.

  “Cassie.”

  “Yeah.” A fog of sexual arousal had descended over her vision.

  “Is it the same?”

  She sighed. “Fine. Yes, you kiss me stupid with or without the uniform. Tag…tell me you have a condom in those pants on the grass over there.”

  He slowly shook his head, his thumb tracing her lower lip. “I do, but we’re not going to have sex.”

  She stared at him, feeling a little befuddled. She looked at the hair lightly decorating his muscular chest. At the line of that same hair that divided his hard stomach and vanished with the rest of his good parts into the swirling water. Then she watched his tongue slick over his wet lower lip. Oh, God, she wanted him. Wanted him to obliterate all the emotional tension and get right to the physical. “We’re not going to do it in here?”

  “No.” Leaning forward, he put his mouth to her throat and sucked.

  Her head thunked back against the edge. “But…” The backs of his fingers brushed over her right breast as he reached up to touch her cheek. But she wanted his fingers back on her breasts. Wanted that so badly she was shaking. “Why not?”

  His eyes were all over her, and their hot intensity as he stared at her told he did want her very much, so she could forget the sudden fear that he didn’t.

  “I want more than sex, Cassie. I want more, and I want it with you.”

  Her eyes widened, because…oh, God, if he used the L-word again right now—which would be the equivalent to an icy bucket of water being dumped on her hot, hot body—she was going to slug him.

  Then probably start bawling again.

  “I want you,” he said again through very tight vocal cords. “More than I want my next breath, if you want the truth. I want to make love. Then I want to sit here with you in my arms and talk. I want to know why you were crying. I want to know your hopes and dreams. I want—”

  “I get it,” she said tightly, bitterly disappointed, and crossed her arms. “But I’m not up for that.”

  “Really? Or are you just scared?”

  Her chin came up. “I am not.”

  “Prove it,” he dared softly, his heart in his throat because this felt as though it was the most important moment of his life. He didn’t know when exactly, or the where or the why of it, but this woman had become more important to him than anything or anyone else.

  And he wanted to show it to her.

  “You want me to prove you don’t scare me,” she said to herself, taking a deep breath that brought the very tips of her breasts out of the water. “Yeah, okay. I can do that.” Eyes glittering, she climbed out of the water into the equally steamy night.

  For a moment she simply looked at him, naked and gleaming by moonlight, and his chest ached just looking at her. Would she go through with it?

  But his Cassie was nothing if not the bravest woman he’d ever met, and slowly her lips curved. “Come here,” she said in a sultry voice that matched her body. She led him to the long, wide swing, which had a comfortable cotton cover and more pillows than his own bed. Standing in front of it, she twined her arms around his neck, tipped her head and kissed him. Kissed him with her lips, with her tongue, and when she made that helpless sound in the back of her throat again—the sound that assured him she was every bit as lost as he was—he knew she was kissing him with her heart.

  His own opened. Flooded. “That’s it,” he murmured, stroking his hands down her back. “Oh, yeah, Cassie, that’s it. Do you feel it?”

  “I feel you. God, Tag, I feel you.” One of her legs bent, hooked at his hip so that his engorged penis brushed at the very core of her. Her head fell back and she arched closer. “Please, Tag, please…”

  “Oh, yeah.” He sank with her ont
o the swing. “But we have all night.”

  “We’ve had all night before.”

  “This is going to be different. More.” He reached out a reverent finger to the tip of one nipple, lightly circling it, watching it bead up tight beneath his touch until it distended out a good half inch, pouting for more. He shivered and brought his other still-wet hand up, dripping water over her skin. Waiting until a small rivulet ran down her breast to the very tip of the puckered nipple before he leaned in and licked it off.

  With a little cry, she arched up and did her best to thrust her entire breast into his mouth. But he simply pulled back and repeated the feathery touch to her other nipple. She let out a little mewl, gripped his hair in her fists and held his mouth to her breast.

  Tag growled and hauled her into his arms. Her mouth raised to his and he took it, groaning when she used her tongue in a blatant motion that mimicked what she wanted him to do to her. Holding her head, he gentled the kiss, sucking on her bottom lip, licking the corner of her mouth before slowly deepening the connection, making love to her mouth the way he was going to make love to her body.

  Panting, she tore free and arched her body toward his. “I’m ready right now.”

  “Are you?” Holding her gaze, he slid his hands down her body to her hips, and slowly rocked them to his.

  “Yes!” Spreading her legs, she managed to get the very tip of him inside her before he gripped her hips with a rough groan. His hands were shaking as he held her still. “Not yet.” There was still more. He slid his fingers between her legs and nearly fell to a boneless heap when he felt how hot, how wet she was. It was impossible not to stroke her, not to get caught up in her rhythm.

  “Oh, please,” she whispered, rocking against him. “Please, Tag.”

  “Tell me.” Laying her back, he looked down into her eyes, at her mouth still wet from his, at the body he wanted to make love to for the rest of his life. He skimmed a hand over her breasts, her stomach, lower. Past her belly button, over her mound so that the tips of his fingers divided slick feminine folds.