What He Wants

by Jessie Gussman

  They ate together, sitting on opposite sides of her small table, each of them feeding a twin. Occasionally their gaze met over the table, and he wondered as he searched her eyes if she felt as if she were having an out-of-body experience too. If it felt surreal to her to be sitting across from each other, the chatter of kids and the occasional whine just background noise. His every focus was on Cassidy.

  She smiled and chatted with the kids like she’d done it all her life.

  She gave Jamal adult answers to his questions. They talked about his day at school.

  She directed a couple of Jamal’s questions to him, and he found himself offering to take the boy to the garage and teach him how to do some simple car maintenance. He said they’d go to Tough’s and get tires on his mom’s car.

  Cassidy smiled even bigger the more he talked to Jamal.

  Torque’s heart swelled, feeling like it would burst. The hair on his arms stood up, and it got harder and harder to look away each time their eyes met.

  She wasn’t wearing a ring.

  He and Jamal cleared off the table. Torque did the dishes while Jamal did his homework and Cassidy gave the twins a bath.

  She brought them out to the kitchen, each dressed in outfits that covered them from toes to neck. They were shiny and smelled better than anything he’d ever smelled except for Cassidy. One of the little ones, the one on Cassidy’s right hip, held her arms out to him.

  “Nessa wants you,” Jamal stated. Torque dried the dishwater off his hands and reached out for the little one. She grinned up at him, showing all two teeth in her mouth, and then her chubby baby arms went around his neck. Like she’d reached into his chest and grabbed it, his heart slid into her hand. He lay his cheek on her head, nuzzling the puffy softness of her hair. His eyes started to close. Just before they shut completely, he saw Cassidy’s face. Her unguarded expression, full of love and longing, pierced his soul.

  “Come on back,” she said softly. “You can lay her down.” She looked down at Jamal. “Finished?”

  “Yep. Torque checked it. He said it was okay.”

  “Take a quick shower and brush your teeth. I’ll be in to kiss you good night in a minute.” She turned and led the way back the short hall to a dimly lit room. Two cribs hugged one wall. A small bed, that Torque realized after a minute must be hers, rested against the opposite wall. Two dressers filled the room to bursting. There was barely enough room for him to squeeze between the cribs and the bed.

  “That one.” She pointed to the farthest crib in. He watched her set the other twin down and imitated her movements. Both babies whimpered a little as they settled in.

  Torque’s arms felt cold and empty. Funny how ninety seconds of holding a baby could make such an impression.

  Cassidy stood between the door and him. Without giving it any thought, Torque took the short step that separated them. He leaned down. “You’re not married to their dad?” He meant to ask gently, but the words came out harsh and low.

  “No,” she said. Her face turned up to him, but he couldn’t read her eyes or see her expression.

  He didn’t think about it. He took a small step forward and slid his arm around her shoulders. She melted into him immediately. His other hand came up, and he dropped his face into her hair, inhaling deeply. Her body, tall and slim, fit perfectly against his. It always had. But he kept his arms on her shoulders and didn’t try to pull her closer. Just holding her was enough for now. More than he ever thought he’d have again.

  A delicate little snore interrupted their peaceful interlude.

  She pulled away, and he didn’t try to keep her.

  His hands fell. Their arms slid down. Her hand caught his and held. She tugged, a little more gently than her daughter had. He followed just as easily.

  “Come on,” she whispered, pulling him out of the room and carefully shutting the door behind them. “I always read Jamal a story.”

  “I have all night.” His voice floated out of his throat, low and deep and wishing.

  He stood in the doorway while she chatted for a few minutes with Jamal. Then she picked up a book, turned to the page marked with a bookmark, and read a chapter.

  He’d heard about families like this. Families that read together. Ate together. Did things together. He never thought to be part of one.

  He wasn’t part of one, he reminded himself roughly. Just watching. He hadn’t expected to stay this long.

  They prayed together, and she kissed Jamal on the forehead before standing up and flicking off the light.

  He backed into the hall, and she slipped out, closing the door. She stood close again. He breathed deeply of her scent, pulling it in, craving more. He fisted his hands to keep from reaching for her, drawing her to him. Wanting her like the last ten years had never happened. Like they were teens again and she was all he thought about day and night. She was in every motor he worked on. The glint of sunlight on metal like her flashing eyes, the softness of polished aluminum like her skin, cylindric pistons like her slender legs. Big diesel motors and Cassidy, he’d spent years with his brain full of both.

  He realized they just stood in the dark hall. Close but not touching. Hearing each breath. His mind full of memories, his hands aching to hold her again. His heart thumping painfully, weeping for every second he’d lost with her.

  But his twenty-eight-year-old mind was a little smarter and slightly less susceptible to his raging hormones than his seventeen-year-old mind had been.

  She’d moved on with someone else and hadn’t wasted any time. He couldn’t stand the pain of watching her walk away from him again. He’d had an enjoyable evening, but he was here on business. It was time he got down to it.

  “You have a minute to talk to me?” His words came out with a sharp edge.

  “Yes.” She led him back to the kitchen.

  Chapter 9

  “Tea or coffee?” Cassidy asked, proud that her voice did not tremble. Having Torque in her home, beside her, helping with her kids, his presence at once overwhelming and soothing, had been so much more than she’d hoped or dreamed.

  She shouldn’t have done it. She risked his future with the mentor program, and she owed him a fresh start. A better start.

  Plus, she had to figure out something with her kids. That was more important than anything else. No matter how amazing it had felt to be almost like a family with Torque.

  She eyed him as he leaned a hip against the counter, two mugs set down in front of him. He’d be a great dad. Patient. Considerate. Hands on.

  Her eyes dropped to his hands. He’d had them in dishwater earlier. Big, strong hands, with long, capable fingers. Tough enough to earn a living, but they could be careful too. She remembered the gentleness of his hands. She shivered and gripped the coffeepot carefully. He didn’t move as she stepped closer and poured the brown liquid into both cups.

  She set the pot down and placed cream and sugar on the counter. He didn’t touch them. She poured cream into her cup, the clink of her spoon as she stirred the only sound. Somehow the air around her felt heavy.

  “I’m sitting, if you don’t mind.” She carried her cup to the table. He followed silently, sitting across from her. Their knees bumped under the table. His expression didn’t change. She moved her leg.

  “You wanted to talk,” she prompted.

  He looked down at his coffee, then his dark brown eyes drilled into hers. “Where’s your man?”

  “This is what you came to talk about?” Heat climbed up her neck. She wanted to feel outrage that he would be so nosy, but she buried her nose in her coffee cup. Why would his question embarrass her?

  Maybe because it was so direct. His brother Tough barely talked at all. Torque wasn’t that quiet, but he never wasted words.

  “No.” He put his hands on the table, next to his cup but not touching it. She’d noticed his tendency, a new one since she’d known him before, of spreading his hands out in plain sight. “But the question occurred to me, since every time I see you,
you’re doing the work of three people by yourself.”

  She sighed. “After I graduated from law school and landed the county defender’s position here in Brickly Springs, I fostered Jamal for a year before adopting him this past spring. His mother had the twins, and once Jamal found out about them, he begged to be with his sisters.” She twisted her coffee cup around. “They’ve allowed me to foster them.”

  The tension seemed to drain out of him, and he looked more relaxed than she’d seen him since he’d gotten out. Still, he prompted her. “But?”

  “But yesterday they made a home visit, and I found out today they feel it’s best if the twins go to a home with a mother and a father.”

  “You’re not gonna take that sitting down.”

  Her head snapped up. Even after all the years apart, he knew her so well.

  He wasn’t looking at her though, seeming to find his coffee cup extremely interesting. Finally, he picked it up and took several big swallows. When he set it down, it was almost empty.

  She stared at her own mug, lost in thought. What could she do to convince them to let her keep the twins? There had to be a way.

  “You’re a lawyer.”

  “Yes. You sound surprised.”

  “On the ride home from Pittsburgh, I saw you...” He paused there, his eyes never leaving hers.

  The heat that had crept up her neck earlier hit the flash point and burst into flames. Her entire body burned. She knew exactly what he was talking about, she could read it all in his eyes. Admiration. Confusion. Even jealousy. Lust burned there too. Banked. But hotter and deeper than the other emotions.

  “...Hard to miss.” He blinked slowly. His mouth flattened. “I assumed you were a model.”

  “Modeling earned me money in college and law school.”

  “You’re more than a pretty face.”

  “I’ve had to fight to prove that to everyone but you.”

  “Parents cut you off?”

  “I cut myself off, I guess you could say.”

  His head tilted a miniscule amount. She read the question in that tilt and found she wanted to give him the answer. “After I found out your sentence, I couldn’t eat or sleep. My grades dropped, and I almost quit school. The guilt was overwhelming. That you were where you were, and I was living, maybe not the high life, but a life of ease, for sure.”

  His eye twitched. “That was the point.”

  “I hated it. I hated myself.” She laughed without humor. “I had a lot of hate. Guilt. Self-loathing.”

  He made a noise, and she looked at him, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t move.

  She continued. “I did a few other things,” the least of which was to visit Miss Betty, whose husband she had killed in the crash, “but basically, I stopped living like a spoiled rich girl, spent only what was necessary, got a job—modeling—and...”

  He stood abruptly, his chair flying backwards and landing with a crash on its back. “That’s why you’re living in this dump.”

  She eyed him as he paced to the counter, slamming his hand down on it.

  “Basically, you’ve been living below the poverty line since I went up.”

  She stood slowly. He wasn’t going to intimidate her with his anger, whatever the cause. “I bought a new outfit before I went to pick you up. They were the first new clothes I’d bought for myself since the day you were sentenced.”

  His teeth ground together. A vein in his temple throbbed.

  “I assume you hadn’t bought anything either.” She tilted her head and tried to smile.

  He breathed through his nose. In and out. Slow drags.

  She couldn’t stand it. She stomped a foot on the floor and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why are you angry? Doesn’t it bother you to think that you were inside, your life on hold, and it should have been me? Wouldn’t you be happier to think that I wasn’t running around living the high life?”

  “No.”

  She threw her hands up. “Then why did you do it? I never understood. Couldn’t ever figure out why you sent me away and lied about the whole thing.” Her voice was raised to a pitch she never used when the twins were sleeping, but she barely noticed. “You knew exactly what was going to happen. Maybe you didn’t think the sentence would be so long or that you’d serve it all, but you knew. Still, you stayed that night and took my place. Why, Torque?”

  He shook his head. Either he couldn’t or wouldn’t tell her.

  Maybe her anger had drained away some of his. He lifted a finger and brushed a hair away from her face, allowing his finger to slide down her cheek. He cupped her jaw. She closed her eyes, fighting for breath.

  “It wasn’t so that both of us had to suffer,” he said, his voice even and low.

  “I couldn’t be free as a bird, with no cares in the world, while you sat in a cell for me. I had to make those years count for both of us.” Her words came out through clenched teeth, her eyes still closed.

  “You got your law degree. That’s not slouching.”

  “I felt guilty,” she whispered.

  A heavy pause filled the room. He breathed out. “Me too.”

  Her eyes popped open.

  “I could have stopped the truck, Cassidy. Look at us.” He found her hand, pressing the palm against his, lifting them up and comparing them. “Your will might be as strong as mine, but I wasn’t sitting helpless in the passenger seat.”

  “So why didn’t you?”

  He dropped her hand and looked over her head. “Loved seeing you drive my truck.” He swallowed. “Did something to my chest to see you sitting behind the wheel. You looked so happy.” His hand came back up, gently cupping her cheek. “I never wanted to hurt anyone. Least of all you. But I wasn’t able to resist you. Never have been.”

  Her heart flipped, and her stomach clenched. Heat pooled in her belly, low and deep.

  “Nor I, you.” She leaned into his hand. “Why were you angry? What do you want from me?”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I always wanted more than you could give. Still do.”

  “Whatever it is, I’ll give it. Whatever it takes.”

  He put a finger over her lips. “Shh.” He watched as his finger traced the outline of her lips. “You’re right. There isn’t any money in the world that could pay for what I did. I don’t want money, never have.”

  “Then, what?” she asked. Her tongue slipped out to touch his finger.

  He hissed.

  “Can’t ask for it. Can’t demand it. It has to be freely given, or it’s not worth anything.”

  “What?” she cried, frustrated tears singeing the backs of her eyes.

  Their heads were close, their breaths mingled. She slipped her hand around his neck and tugged. His hands slid to her waist and rested there.

  The air between them charged. Time hung, suspended, as they searched each other’s faces. The attraction between them almost sizzled.

  Her fingers tingled, and she wanted nothing more than to tilt her head and press her lips to his. But she was his mentor. She had her children to consider. Like he read her decision on her face, his hands slipped away and he stepped back. If he would have leaned forward, she couldn’t say she wouldn’t have met him halfway. But his movement precluded her own.

  She turned, her hand falling from his neck, the soft hair at his nape slipping through her fingers. Blindly, she grabbed the cream and turned toward the fridge, more to give herself something to do, to keep herself occupied until she had her rioting emotions back under control.

  Grabbing the sugar, she put that away too.

  After slapping the cupboard closed, she turned to him. He’d walked to the door and had his hand on the knob.

  “What did you come here for? You said you wanted to talk.” She sounded waspish and hated that, but she didn’t know what to do about it.

  His lips flattened. “Buy yourself a house. A nice one. The kind you deserve. Same with a car. BMWs have the highest safety ratings in crashes. Hire a nanny. And
stop working so freaking much.”

  “You don’t have the right to come in here and tell me what to do.” The words flew out of her mouth, clearly enunciated, and hit him like hail on a roof.

  “I just did.”

  She shoved her tender feelings down deep. “Take your opinions and leave.”

  “They’ll let you keep the kids. If you have a house and some help and don’t look like you’re going to fall asleep on your feet.”

  Drat him. He knew her weakness. “No. The only way they’ll let me keep the kids is if I have a husband or the strong potential for one.”

  “You’ve never had a problem finding boys who would fall all over themselves to spend just a few minutes in your presence.” His expression seemed self-derisive, almost. Like he had been one of those boys.

  But he never had.

  She rolled her eyes. “You make that sound simple.”

  “I’m saying you have the pick of the litter. So pick.”

  She ran her eyes over his face, older, harder, but still the same. How could she tell him that she’d rather have no one if she could never have him? She looked away, running her finger over the edge of the counter.

  He walked forward and leaned over the other side. “I’m out, Cassidy. Free. You can stop punishing yourself. And Jamal. And Nissa and Nessa. You do realize that you’re punishing them now too, right?”

  She hadn’t thought about it, and it was one more thing for her to feel guilty about. She could have been giving her kids so much more—a nice house, a meal service, a housekeeper at the very least. She was the freaking pickle heiress. She had more money in her trust fund than she could ever use.

  “Take the money from your trust fund—you still have your trust fund?” Torque’s eyes narrowed, and she wished that she hadn’t told him so much about her life back when they had slipped out together. He hadn’t forgotten one detail.

  She nodded.

  “Buy a house. And a car. Hire a nanny. Cut your hours back to part-time, and relax with your kids for a while.” He stared at her for a full minute before he turned and opened the door.