by Maisey Yates
“Pleasure myself, huh?”
“Well, what would you call it?”
“Nothing fancy. Just a little jacking off.”
She worried her bottom lip, looking like she was considering the words very carefully. “Jacking off. Serviceable. Definitely descriptive.”
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her nose. “I will never understand how you can make my cock so hard it hurts and make me laugh at the same time.”
“I don’t know. I can only say that I’m honored.” She kissed his lips. “Honored both to make you laugh and to make your cock hard.”
“Nice girl Cassie Ventimiglia, talking dirty to me in the shower.”
“Nice girls know how to have fun, too.”
“Yes, we’re smashing stereotypes all over the place lately.”
“No more talking.” She kissed him again, this time deeper, moving her hands over his chest and around his back, down to his ass.
“Demanding.”
She nipped his bottom lip. “What did I just say?”
His erection pulsed, arousal flooding through him. If she wanted to play this game, he was not going to stop her. She moved away from him, revealing the condom packet in her hand. She opened it slowly and positioned it on the end of his length, rolling it on.
“Foreplay is great,” she said, “but we don’t need any of that right now.”
He was not going to argue. He reversed their positions, pressing her against the wall as he thrust deep inside of her. He kept his eyes open, trained on hers. It was a surreal thing, being here with her now, when just a few short weeks ago this had been nothing but a fantasy. It had been his own hand on his cock, not her tight, slick body.
It was real now, she was real. And it was better than he ever could’ve imagined.
Need built between them, each thrust bringing them closer and closer to the peak. She clung tightly to his shoulders as he rode her hard, and when they reached it, they reached it together.
They stood there, sated, and he didn’t want to move away. He wanted to stay inside her. Wanted this moment to last.
“Oh, Jake.” He loved it when she did that. When she said his name like that, like it was her own personal revelation. “Oh, Jake, I love you.”
CHAPTER NINE
WOW. SHE HAD really said it. She meant it, so she didn’t regret it. But she did sort of regret that Jake was looking at her like she’d grown another head. That was not the typical postcoital expression she was used to getting from him.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” she asked.
They were still standing underneath the water, reminiscent of that day in the rain. But she didn’t feel triumphant right now; instead she felt a sense of foreboding.
“What is there to say?”
“Well, I love you, too is typically the desired outcome of that kind of declaration, but I can’t say I was really expecting that. Though I was expecting a little bit more than the angry face you’re giving me right now.”
Jake opened the shower door and got out, grabbing a towel off the rack and running it over his chest. “You knew this wasn’t permanent.”
“Yeah, I knew it. But I decided to go full rebel and not play by the rules. I fell in love with you.”
“How is that even possible?”
“How is it not possible, Jake?” She followed him out of the shower, grabbing the towel out of his hands and running it over her own body, leaving herself mostly damp.
“I don’t even know how to answer that.”
“Well, fair enough because I don’t know how to answer your question.”
“I feel like I did a pretty good job of making a case for the fact that I’m kind of an asshole.”
“I have yet to see a whole lot of evidence of that.” She should’ve known he would be like this. Really, she should have.
“Did you miss the part where I burned down my father’s fields?”
“Nope. Fresh in my memory.”
“Then you must realize that you don’t make any sense.”
“Okay, so let’s just stop this right now. I love you, and you’re not talking me out of it. So you can stop trying.”
He picked his jeans up off the floor and put them on, zipping them carefully. “Did you forget one little problem?”
“What problem?”
“I’m going to sell your coffee shop. I’m endangering your livelihood.” He stared at her hard, and she didn’t say anything. “I’m not staying here.”
“I know. I thought... I was thinking that if you want to, I mean, that is if you want me to, I would go back to Seattle with you.”
His face went blank, his frame stiff. “You want to come back to Seattle with me?”
“Yes. I do.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? You’re just going to drop everything and come with me?”
“It isn’t like that.” Cassie took a deep breath. “I was thinking about it and I realized that the worst thing I do, and I do it over and over again, is play it safe. I do things that make other people happy so that I don’t have to take chances. I don’t have to make mistakes, or struggle. And I especially don’t have to deal with the consequences. Because it’s all someone else’s fault. Well, I’m tired of that. I want to take a chance. And I want to take it with you.”
“Are you sure you aren’t just changing the narrative so you can revert to type?”
That barb hit its intended target, sent a bit of insecurity running through her. “I’m not.” And she knew she didn’t sound all that confident. But she wasn’t used to this. Wasn’t used to confrontation, wasn’t used to holding her ground.
“You sound real certain.”
“Well, what’s the point either way?” She was feeling angry now. “I mean, you’re going to put me into a precarious position anyway once you leave. I might as well take a chance on this.”
“Oh, so you want to come with me because I’m forcing your hand? I’ve never been so flattered.”
“That isn’t it. You’re just making me mad.” She swallowed hard. “It’s always been you, Jake. Always. Back in high school and now. I almost took a chance then, but I missed it. I missed my chance. I knew I couldn’t miss it this time, not because I was afraid. I started to say something that night in the library and I changed my mind, I let fear get the best of me. And I lost my opportunity for fifteen years. I was not going to lose this opportunity, too.”
Jake turned away from her, his broad, muscular back filling her vision. Then everything blurred, tears filling her eyes. Because she knew this was the end. She knew he wasn’t going to soften, wasn’t going to make his own declaration of love.
Declarations of love didn’t go this way.
“I’m not sorry I said it.” She wouldn’t be sorry. She would not be sorry for her existence anymore. For taking up space. For being the choice she often feared her mother wished she hadn’t made, for being a disappointment to her husband. “I’m glad I said it. I’m glad I took the chance. And I hope years down the road when you look back on this you’ll wish you’d taken the chance, too. You’ll wish you were as brave as I was. Tough, tattooed Jake Caldwell, too afraid to take chances.”
Jake turned around, his expression fierce. “You think that’s it? You think I’m afraid to take chances? Maybe I’m just too damn smart to make the same mistakes more than once. I know what happens when I give free rein to my emotions. Shit burns, Cassie. And so do all of my relationships.” He pushed his hands through his hair. “I am not the guy you give things up for.”
“Maybe not. But I’m the woman who takes chances for herself. Because I deserve to try for happiness. I thought I deserved to try for this.”
“You deserve a hell of a lot more than me.”
“Only because yo
u don’t really see yourself, Jake. You were so angry because all anyone ever saw you as was a bad boy. A screwup. But you don’t see yourself as anything more. You’re your own biggest enemy.”
“Maybe so. Or maybe I just see myself clearly.”
“I’ve never fought for anything before. I just kind of let things happen. I’m fighting now. I want to fight for you. I love you, Jake. There, I said it again. I officially have no pride.”
“I can’t love you back.”
Cassie’s eyes filled with tears, her chest so heavy she thought she might fall to the ground, thought she might never be able to get back up again. So she took a deep breath, used all her strength to stay standing. “Okay, then.”
“Cassie...”
“There’s nothing you can say to make it better. So don’t even try.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
That almost made her laugh. “Of course not. Were you going to rub it in?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what I was going to say.”
“Well, I’m going to say goodbye. There’s only so much my ego can take. This was a great growth experience but I can’t say I’m eager to stand around and marinate in it. Please don’t come buy your muffin from me tomorrow. I hope wherever you do buy one, it has raisins in it.”
She put her clothes on as quickly as possible, not looking at him again. Ignoring the fact that her T-shirt was sticking to her wet skin. Then she walked through the apartment and stormed out the door, only then realizing that she’d left her shoes there. Oh well, it was too late. Those shoes were dead to her. She would have to get new shoes.
A sob wracked her chest, and tears started spilling down her cheeks. She scrubbed her forearm across her face, but it didn’t stop the tears from falling. She had a feeling nothing would.
She felt like the world was ending, and she hadn’t felt that way when she got divorced. But then, she’d already known this was different.
Because Jake was her choice. Jake was the one thing she’d stuck her neck out for. Jake was the one thing she’d taken a chance on. Jake had been her decision, and her decision alone. And the failure of that was all hers.
The heartbreak was all hers, too.
She knew from past experience that what-ifs could consume you, could keep you up at night with the possibilities of what might have been. But, standing here, with absolute certainty, didn’t feel a whole lot better right now.
She only hoped it would take fewer than fifteen years to get over Jake this time around.
But she wasn’t overly optimistic.
* * *
BY THE NEXT morning Jake had two things: a hangover and a plan.
He was a little bit happier with the plan than he was with the hangover, but he imagined it was par for the breakup course. He wouldn’t know; he didn’t think he’d ever been involved in a breakup before. Not calling a woman you were sleeping with the morning after didn’t count.
This was more like an official breakup. He could tell, because he felt like wolves had burst through his chest in the night and savaged his innards. He’d felt a similar pain at other times in his life. When his mother had died, and when his father had made him leave the ranch. Heartbreak, maybe. Or just plain old grief.
Either way it sucked.
But he couldn’t ask Cassie to give up her life here for him. He’d lied to her last night when he told her he couldn’t love her. But he’d told her the truth when he said he wasn’t the kind of guy worth giving up a life for.
All he had to do was look at the evidence of his past to prove that. He’d never done anything but screw things up, had never done anything but give the people he cared about grief. He’d never been able to be good enough for his father. Disappointment was all he ever saw reflected in the old man’s eyes.
It would kill him to watch the love in Cassie’s eyes transform into that. Slowly, over the course of years, he was certain it would. Because his relationships had never gone any other way.
So it was decided. He was going to leave. He would turn over the cleanup of the property to someone else, and he didn’t care if that cut into his profits. The other thing he was doing was signing the building that housed the coffee shop over to Cassie. He wouldn’t be out anything. Not out of pocket anyway. Sure, he would have to get a bigger loan to buy the mechanic shop, but that didn’t matter. The building only had value because of Cassie’s business. It only had value because of the work that had gone into restoring Old Town. He hadn’t been a part of that. But Cassie had been. She was the one who deserved to reap the rewards.
He was back out at the ranch for one last visit. One last time to look around. To yell at some demons. To rage at things that couldn’t be fixed.
That was how he found himself standing at the edge of the field. The dirt in front of him was still a mix of ash and soil, and nothing more. Unsurprisingly, there were no answers here. He didn’t know why he’d bothered. He didn’t know what he’d been looking for. Or maybe he did. He’d been looking for answers, but there was nothing here but ghosts. Nothing here but memory.
There was nothing new at all. The time for getting answers was over. His father was dead; they could never reconcile. Jake could never scream at him and ask why nothing he’d ever done had been good enough. Jake could never say he was sorry.
The time for all of that had passed. And he’d been hiding.
So many things left unsaid.
That made him think of Cassie again. Mostly because everything made him think of Cassie, but partly because of what she’d told him about that night in the library. And how she’d almost said something to him then. That was the night he’d almost kissed her. But instead it was the night everything had gone to hell.
Yes, his past was littered with things left unsaid. Kisses left ungiven.
You’re just doing it again. Repeating the cycle.
No, it wasn’t the same. He was making a conscious decision to turn away from her, because it was the best thing for her.
Maybe you could stop running?
He was ready to kick his inner voice in the balls. He didn’t have anything for himself here. Nothing but shitty memories.
He turned away from the field and headed back toward the house, walking up the porch, purposely stepping on the board that flexed beneath his weight. He pulled open the screen door, and went inside.
He wondered what other people felt when they came home. If they felt a sense of belonging. If they felt happy. All he felt was like he was being crushed beneath something. Beneath too many words that could never be spoken. Beneath the mistakes he could never fix.
He walked up the stairs, each one creaking beneath his feet. They had always done that. In a weird way it was kind of comforting. Familiar.
There was a stack of papers on the desk in his dad’s room that he wanted to grab before he left. Just in case it had personal information. Here there were some report cards and other personal documents of his and he didn’t really want to leave them behind for whoever ended up inhabiting or cleaning the place.
Their existence was as inexplicable as the old man’s decision to leave him the property. He didn’t know why his dad had kept them. He’d thrown Jake away quickly enough. Why not the papers documenting his life?
He pushed open the door and picked the papers up from his father’s desk, shuffling through them. He’d meant to do this weeks ago but he’d simply looked at it all and taken the first few sheets off the pile, then left it.
He sat on the edge of the bed, kicking up a cloud of dust as he did. He flipped through documents, absorbing himself in the past. In receipts and shitty grades. In notes from teachers.
And then, somewhere in the middle, was an envelope with his name on it. Another report card maybe. He tore the envelope open, his stomach tightening when he did.
It was a letter.
Jake,
If you have this letter I’m probably dead. No getting around that fact. I started a few of them years ago and never sent them. So I imagine the only one you’ll end up with is one you find.
I wasn’t a good father. But you know that. I’m not good at apologizing, either, but I owe you one.
I’m sorry. It doesn’t seem like enough. Because I said a lot of other things when you were growing up that should never have been said. And I’m sorry doesn’t take them away.
I can’t think of a better way to show you that than to leave everything with you. I know I said you couldn’t handle it, but I was wrong. I don’t know what you’ve been up to all these years but I know you did good.
Dad
Jake’s hands were shaking when he put the letter down. There was no explanation there. No grand answers. No declaration of familial love, but then, that just wasn’t in his dad’s nature.
But there was something better than that.
His dad had trusted that he’d turned out okay. Had trusted that he could leave all of his properties with him, and that he wouldn’t make a hash of it. Had trusted he wouldn’t burn anything down.
He looked around the room, and things suddenly seemed different to him.
He wished his dad had sent the letters. And Jake wished he had come back at some point while his father was alive. But he’d been afraid. He had been afraid that he wouldn’t be able to fix it. Afraid that no apology would ever be enough. It would’ve been. He realized that now. On both sides, I’m sorry would have fixed a lot of things. Talking would’ve fixed a lot of things.
He had been planning on riding out of town today. Had been planning on leaving today much the way he’d left fifteen years earlier.
But he wasn’t going to do that now. He wasn’t going to leave things unsaid. Not again.
Fifteen years ago he’d been nothing more than a scared boy. Running away from mistakes he’d made, letting someone else’s words dictate how he felt about himself. Dictate who he was going to be. He’d spent all that time away licking his wounds and trying to become worthy of something. Anything.