by Lucy Score
He took me in his arms and pulled me up against his chest. “There, that’s better,” he said, whispering against my hair.
I hated how much better it was. He was so warm and steady. Dang it. Teenage Cassidy would have melted into a puddle over this. But I was Late-Twenties Cassidy, and she was made of sterner stuff.
“Bowie,” I said, in a warning tone. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m showing you how nice it would be if we were together.”
“What are you talking about?”
We were swaying side to side as if slow dancing to music that no one else could hear.
“All we have is a past of what-ifs. I’m trying to show you what it’ll be like if you’ll just say yes.”
“Dinner with my parents?” I asked.
“I’m showing you how well I get on with my future in-laws.”
I stepped on his foot.
“You aren’t letting me catch my breath,” I told him. “And you sure as hell aren’t taking my concerns about being connected to you seriously!”
He pulled back a bit to look at me. “I know it’s not fair. I know I’m pressuring you after years of nothing but space. And I know it seems like I’m asking you to choose me over your job. But that’s not the case. I haven’t proven myself yet. All I’m asking is for a chance to prove that I will be good to you. That I’ll be the partner in life you want. That I won’t let you down.”
“How?” I asked stubbornly. “How can I give you your shot and still keep my job? How can we date and not have the entire town know every damn thing?” How can I trust you?
“Same way your Dad doesn’t know we host secret town meetings. We may be a town of blabbermouths, but we know when to keep our mouths shut. You think anyone here feels any loyalty to that clown Connelly?”
I shook my head. “It’s too big of a risk. He’s throwing accusations at me like impeding an investigation.”
“What if we keep it secret?” Bowie asked.
“How in the hell would we do that?” It was ridiculous. Appalling. And yet…
“We live in the same house,” he said with that boyish grin. “I think we can come up with a way to make it work. I’m asking for a chance, not a choice. Not yet. I’d never ask you to give up your career, Cass. I hope you know that.”
His gray eyes were earnest, and Late-Twenties Cassidy was dumb enough to believe him.
“Why is everything such a mess right now?” I demanded. “Why doesn’t anything make sense?”
“I’ll tell you one thing that does make sense,” Bowie said, lowering his lips to mine.
Oh, Lordy. That sparked a fire in me all right. My cheeks were cold, and my mouth was being consumed by flames. I didn’t have the ability to do anything but kiss him back. I pressed myself up against him, and he held me tight as we ravaged each other’s mouths.
It was too much. And not enough.
I could feel a pulse between my legs as he hardened against my stomach.
My feelings for him were so complicated. But one thing was always crystal clear. I wanted Bowie naked and sweating and growling my name in my ear. Could I give myself that and not lose anything? My job? My heart?
His hands skimmed down my sides, stroking over the curves of my breasts.
“I want you, Cass. Let me prove to you that I’m right for you. Let me.” His thumbs skimmed over my nipples that were already fritzing out from the cold and the kiss.
I shivered against him. “Damn it all to hell, Bowie.”
“Do you want pie or can I have your pieces? I want to try eating my feelings again.” June asked from the back door.
43
Bowie
She insisted on sneaking out the back into my garage under the cover of darkness. A ninja in suede boots and a wool coat.
“You better be keeping a lid on things,” Cassidy told me, climbing into the passenger seat and crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not putting my career on the line for a date.” She smelled like lemons. I liked it.
It was a first date, not just a date, I reassured myself, backing out of the garage. A cantankerous one, seein’ as how it had taken me thirty minutes to convince her to ride with me.
“Cass, honey, I swear there isn’t a soul in the world that knows about tonight.” Now wasn’t the time to tell her that my brothers knew I was planning on courting her. Besides, they didn’t know the specifics. And tonight, Jonah was out teaching some fitness class somewhere. So technically no one knew that tonight was our first date.
“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” she said.
I was used to my dates being a little more enthusiastic about things. I turned on the radio low for some background noise. “Technically, I kissed you into it,” I told her.
“Your mouth was very convincing,” she complained.
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Reaching across the console, I took her hand in mine. “We’re heading forty-five minutes out of town for dinner in a restaurant ninety-nine percent of Bootleg would never consider stepping foot in,” I told her. “We’re safe. You’re beautiful. And I’m already itching to kiss you again. Let’s have some fun tonight.”
She gave me a long look and let out a breath. “I want to make sure you’re taking this secrecy thing seriously, Bow. The ground can’t get any shakier under my feet at work.”
“Can he actually fire you?” I asked.
“I don’t know if he can with jurisdictions being what they are. But that doesn’t mean he won’t try. He’s making my life miserable as it is.”
“What’s his deal?” I asked. “It seems like it’s more than you being friends with me and my family.”
She looked at me, relief on her pretty features. “It does, doesn’t it? It’s been niggling at me. It’s not because I’m a woman—at least not just because I am. But he’s singled me out for some reason. I feel like he’s playing a game that I don’t get to read the rules to.”
“Ever think about doin’ some digging on him?” I suggested.
She gave me another long, quiet look. “I might do that. By the way, I got a package today.”
“Did you now?”
“Pajamas. Isn’t that a little forward for our first date?” she teased.
First date. Cassidy might not know it yet, but she and I were on the same page. We both knew that tonight was the beginning. This was our first date. The night that would lay the groundwork for our future. Dating. Marriage. Kids. Grandkids. It all started here, tonight.
“Do you like ‘em?” I asked.
She grinned, looking straight ahead, and I felt her grip on my hand tighten a little bit. “Yeah.”
“I can’t believe you brought me back here,” Cassidy laughed, looking around the dining room. She looked incredible in a dark green dress that dipped low in the front and floated out at the waist. Her hair was down in honey blonde waves, and my fingers were itching to dive in. The heels on her boots brought her within easy kissing distance of my mouth.
I was having trouble remembering my usual first date moves because I just wanted to strip her naked and kiss every golden inch of her body.
Ever since I’d seen her—felt her—naked that night, I’d thought of little else. More. I wanted it with Cassidy. And I was prepared to earn it, one careful step at a time.
Much as I wanted to find out exactly what she had on under that dress, I wasn’t going to find out tonight. I’d be the gentleman she deserved, attentive, respectful. Hopefully, there’d be a goodnight kiss that we’d both remember forever.
Long game, I cautioned myself, as a vision of tangled sheets and Cassidy writhing on top of them popped into my mind. Nope. Get out of my head naked goddess Cassidy. I was determined to make this night perfect.
“What’s going on in that brain of yours?” Cassidy asked as the host led us through the dining room.
“You really don’t want to know.”
She was scanning the room, seemingly in cop mode, picking up and storing details of
the other diners.
“You’re looking for Baxter, aren’t you?” I teased.
She made a gagging noise that had the host glancing over his shoulder.
“She’s fine,” I promised him.
The host pretended we were just another pair of polite diners and showed us to the table. Our table.
“The same table?” she asked, eyeing me with suspicion.
If Cassidy didn’t know that I was a romantic at heart, well, she was gonna have to get used to it right quick.
I pulled her chair out with a flourish. “Welcome to our first, official date.”
She sat and tucked the cloth napkin into her lap. I could tell by the tension in her shoulders that she was nervous as a cat in a rocking chair store. “Relax, Cass. I don’t bite,” I said, taking the chair across from her.
“Before we get to the biting, I think we need to talk business first,” Cassidy said, scoping out the other diners.
“I’m fine if we skip to the biting.” Down, boy! Charming, not horndoggy.
“How is this supposed to work?” she asked. It was a big, fat, loaded question.
But I was prepared for it.
“First things first,” I said, reaching for my water glass. I wet my whistle. “I’ve been thinking romantic thoughts about you since you were sixteen years old.” Honestly, it was probably closer to fifteen, but I felt like that might be skirting a little too close to the creepy old guy line.
“You had a damn funny way of showin’ it,” Cassidy said.
I could tell by the set of her jaw she wasn’t gonna take it easy on me tonight. “You were my little sister’s best friend. And during the teenage years, an age difference like ours is a serious deal.”
“And then my father opened his trap and you fell in line like a good boy.” Cassidy crossed her arms.
“What do you suppose would have happened if I hadn’t listened to the sheriff?” I asked her. “What if instead of lying to you when you came to Gibson’s the next morning, I did what I really wanted to instead?”
She leaned in almost imperceptibly. I knew I had her hooked. “What did you want to do?”
“Welcome. May I offer you a beverage tonight?” Our waiter, a ten-foot-tall man with a ponytail and a hooked nose, hovered over our table.
“Jesus, man! Give us a minute,” Cassidy yelped.
I gave him an apologetic smile as he scampered off.
“You were sayin’?” she demanded.
Reaching forward, testing my luck, I covered her hand with mine. I stroked my thumb over the ridges and valleys of her knuckles. I knew she felt it too, that electroshock charge every time we touched.
“I wanted to push you up against that wall and kiss you senseless. I wanted to tell you that you were done messing around with summertimers and jerks your own age. Because you were mine and it was high time you realized it.”
Cassidy didn’t move a muscle. She was staring at me with the slightest frown tugging on her pink lips. “Damn it, Bowie. You could have taken the most humiliating moment of my life and turned it into the most exciting, romantic, delirious teenage fantasy.”
“And then one of us would have done somethin’ stupid and screwed the whole thing up, ruining our shot.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You were nineteen! I was twenty-three. What the hell did we even know then?”
“I’m not so sure we know much more now.” She reached for her water glass with her free hand.
“I know that I’m not willing to go back to being just neighbors.”
“Bowie,” she said my name on an exhalation of frustration. “You’re only saying that because my daddy gave you permission.”
“Your daddy didn’t give me permission to pin you up against your bedroom wall naked and taste you.”
Her cheeks flushed, and I felt my own internal temperature rising at the very vivid, very visceral memories.
“There is no chance I would have been able to go back to staying away from you after that night, Cass.”
“I seem to recall you giving me the brushoff after I came back.”
“You think that would have lasted? Now that I know what you feel like under my hands. Now that I know what those sexy little whimpers in the back of your throat sound like. Do you honestly think I could leave you alone?” This was not the argument I had crafted to convince the sane, logical Cassidy Tucker to put her faith in me. This was a waterfall of unplanned, sincere honesty. We were both going over it in a barrel made for two.
She put her head down on the table and groaned. “You’re makin’ it real hard to stay furious with you.”
“Uh, would anyone care to put in a drink—”
Cassidy lifted her head. “Sir, I will give you twenty bucks right now to grab us two beers, put them on our table without saying a word, and giving us ten whole minutes of solitude.”
The waiter blinked. Cassidy pulled her hand out from under mine and fished a hand into her bra. She pulled out a folded-up bill and slid it across the table. “Go on now. Scoot.”
He grabbed the twenty and disappeared without a word.
I couldn’t stop staring at her cleavage.
“Emergency boob twenties come in handy,” she said.
“What else you got in there?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I sure would, but I’m not gonna find out tonight, Cass. I’m serious about us. I’m after a hell of a lot more than one date and a night of sex. And I really need you to be okay with that.”
“You bein’ good sure gets in the way of us having a whole lot of fun.”
44
Cassidy
He was saying all the right things and looking all the right kinds of handsome. In that damn navy blue suit minus the tie. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar. Casual and sexy. Lickable. Part of me kept pinching myself under the table to make sure I wasn’t dreaming all this. I was on a date with Bowie, and he was pulling out every romantic stop.
I’d finally allowed the waiter to come back and take our orders and had worked my way through a very fine steak. Bowie had given me my hand back so we could use our utensils like civilized folk, and my mind cleared up a bit without the physical contact.
I picked up my beer and sipped. “So, say I do agree to date you.” I wanted to date him right on home and upstairs into my bed.
He leaned in, looking stupidly handsome like every naughty daydream I’d ever had of the man.
Testing him, I nudged my boot up his pant leg. He reacted by jumping so hard his knee hit the bottom of the table. How cute. “How exactly do I date you and keep my job?” I asked, acting as if I wasn’t climbing his leg with my foot.
“Uh. Um. Well, I think we could keep things under wraps around town. I mean, we live next door to each other. We have back door access—”
“Back. Door. Access.” I repeated, skating my foot over his knee.
He slipped a hand under the table and grabbed my boot, halting my progress.
He turned an adorable shade of raspberry. “What I mean to say is no one needs to know that we’re seeing each other at home. If we go out, we can stick to non-local venues.”
“Hmm. What if we’re both at The Lookout and a sexy, slow song comes on?”
His nostrils flared, and I knew he was thinking about our slow dance.
“Should I dance with someone else?” I asked innocently. “You know, keep everyone bamboozled?”
“No, you should not,” he said.
“So you say secret. But what about Jonah, who has seen us very nearly doing the deed? And Scarlett, who I may have called and asked if that counted as doing the deed? It didn’t, by the way.”
“It most certainly did not count,” Bowie agreed. “When it does count you won’t have to phone a friend to be sure.”
His eyes were on my mouth, and I did my best slow lick and hoped it looked as sexy as it did on TV. The grip on my foot tightened, so I figured I was doing j
ust fine. I was a cat toying with a very attractive mouse.
“I repeat my question. What about Jonah—who you live with—and Scarlett, who is probably at this very moment flipping through her Cassidy and Bowie Wedding scrapbook?”
“You’re the one with the secrecy caveat. What do you want to do?”
The only other secret I’d kept from Scarlett was exactly what Bowie said the day after he punched the dumbass summertimer in the face for me. But I didn’t have many secrets, and Scarlett had a very large mouth. Would she forgive me for hiding an actual relationship from her? What kind of a tangled web was I weaving?
“Let’s tell them that the timing isn’t right for us right now,” I decided. It wasn’t exactly a lie.
“To be clear. You’re asking me to lie to my family about us.”
“Temporarily. I’m willing to make it worth your while. The less people who know, the better.”
Bowie grunted.
He wasn’t happy with the arrangement. But it was all I could offer right now. I wasn’t about to toss aside the job I loved for the man who’d lied to me and proceeded to keep his distance for the better part of a decade.
“How long are you willing to remain tight-lipped about our little relationship?” I asked, enunciating tight and lipped.
I watched his Adam’s apple work. If I could drive the man to sex, I felt like I’d win back a piece for my damaged teen heart. And also probably have an excellent orgasm. Or two. I remembered Scarlett oversharing on the reality of multiple orgasms and wondered if Bowie here could dole out multiples.
Yeah. The man was pumping off barely restrained testosterone like he bottled it and was spritzing people with samples at the mall.
“After all, given our unique position as such good friends, we could do some damage to both families if this little trial of ours flames out.” Thanksgiving would be awkward. Hell, everyday life would be unbearable. Running into each other at the Pop In. Sitting at the same table at The Lookout. Being invited to each other’s weddings. If this went to hell, I wanted to make sure no one was any the wiser.