Authors: Christa Maurice
Her stomach lurched. Living next door to her and Michael in New York, Paul had gotten a front row seat to every fight, heard every slammed door. He’d also seen their comings and goings, and who with. Michael didn’t think she’d known how often he’d held private rehearsals with the beautiful and exotic Sasha, whose real name was Sarah, and who worshipped Michael. Sasha’s number had appeared often on Michael’s phone, but Paul no doubt knew Sasha had been in their apartment many times when she hadn’t been home. And about the other women who’d come and gone, whose names were still a mystery. Huh, Paul was a better secret keeper than she’d given him credit for. “I have no idea,” she said, and hoped it fooled her mother.
“Oh, well, you know how dramatic Paul is.”
Growing up, Cass had thought dramatic meant homosexual. In college, she’d learned dramatic and homosexual were synonyms only in her mother’s thesaurus. No way to tell if her mother was referring to Paul’s sex life or his penchant for screeching and giving people the hairy eyeball.
“He broke Finn’s mug.”
So, broken dishes, after all. Apparently her mother was using the theatrical sense of the word. “Is that so?”
“He did. Paul just snatched that mug out of the case and threw it against the wall. Ida told him, Finn that is, not to worry about it.”
“Mom, I’m amazed at how you all can take nothing and turn it into high drama.”
“It’s a gift, sweetheart. We talked to Bill Wernick today, too.”
“Did he get to witness the mug smashing?”
“Yes, he was there. We asked him about that pasture.”
Though not keen on her parents running her business, if it got her mother off the subject of what might be happening on the mountain, she had to encourage it. Besides, she wanted to know what was going on in Bill’s mind. “And he said?”
“You know he’ll decide in the next few days. He’s getting so old, Cassie, and the price of mutton is just bottoming out. He said he might wait until after lambing and sell the flock and that pasture. His daughter wants to move home to take care of him, and her husband has a horse stable where he rents horses to tourists. They thought it might be a good thing around here, and they’re getting squeezed out, where they are. Too many other people in the business. Plus, his daughter would be right on hand to take care of him in his infirmity. We told Bill that he had to give you first crack if he did sell. He said he’d call you after the storm passed.”
“Good, as long as the lines don’t go down, I’ll be right here.”
“If the lines do go down, you’ll be right there, too. Do you have your cellular phone charged up?”
Damn. In all the arguing with Finn, running down the mountain for condoms and having sex in the hall, she’d forgotten to check her cellphone. “No, I didn’t. I’ll go get it right now.”
“Okay, honey, I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“We’re fine.” Cass bit her lip at the slip. We? As if the whole town didn’t already have her trysting with Jason.
“That’s good. You keep warm and don’t forget about your cellular phone.”
“’Bye, Mom.” She hung up and headed for the dining room cupboard, where she kept the phone.
“What’s the big news?” Jason asked.
“Oh, Finn is wild with jealousy about you being here on the mountain and he got into a fight with Paul about it at the diner today, probably while we were working at that tree. Anyway, Paul smashed Finn’s mug, which is sort of like being banned from the diner.”
“Sounds like a tribal ritual.” His lips thinned. Paul wasn’t the only one who didn’t like Finn.
“Sort of. Paul made an unfortunate comment to the whole world about me and my ex-husband.” She plugged in the phone on the sideboard. When she turned around, Jason stood behind her. He looked furious.
“What did he say?” His eyes narrowed to match his thinned lips.
“He just said he didn’t think I knew everything that went on between Michael and I. Paul lived next door, so he got to hear and see a lot. There was another woman or two.” Cass looked down. Michael’s cheating still humiliated her. She could read all the books she wanted on how it hadn’t been her fault, but if that were true, whose fault was it? If she had been a better wife or a better lover, Michael wouldn’t have had to go looking, would he?
“Your husband cheated on you?” Jason stood up.
Biting her lip, she nodded.
“What a bastard!” he shouted, which made her flinch. He put his hand on her shoulders. “Cassie, why did you let him do that? Why didn’t you kick him to the curb?”
“I wouldn’t say I let him.” She’d only left the apartment for hours, told Michael when she would return. When he’d straggled home after “late rehearsals” with cat hair on his clothes and the smell of cigarettes in his hair, she just hadn’t asked.
She’d just never stopped him.
“Cassie,” Jason said, “how could he?”
“Maybe he was missing something at home.” Cass gnawed her lip.
“What? Great sex? Home cooking?” His voice hitched. “Companionship? Come on. Cassie, as much as I know you, I know he had plenty of that with you. Did he tell you he was missing something?”
She shook her head.
“You can’t make a promise like marriage and not mean it.”
“I meant it,” she snapped. She’d stood at the altar, sworn to love and honor through sickness and health, for richer or poorer ’til death, meaning every word.
“You did, but he didn’t. He can’t have ever loved you. If he didn’t want to try and if he didn’t talk to you about what he wanted, then he didn’t fucking try.”
“He said I wasn’t cut out to be married to an actor.”
“Why?”
“I hated parties. We had to go to a lot of them to socialize and I hated it. He would leave me alone in a booth, and I’d spend the whole night miserable.”
“Why did he leave you alone?”
Cass opened her mouth and then closed it. She’d never wondered why Michael left her alone, he just had. While he networked, she nursed a Shirley Temple and talked to people who felt sorry enough for her they sat with her for a little while. “Didn’t Stella leave you alone?”
“We’re not talking about Stella, and no, she didn’t. She wore me on her arm like a giant piece of jewelry. The point is, I wouldn’t have left you alone. No gentleman would. He was a jerk, Cass. You’re better off without him.”
“Why do you care?”
Jason let her go and turned away. She waited for a long time, hoping he would turn around and say something stupid about how he’d fallen madly in love with her and wanted to take her away from all this. Or he wanted to stay here with her forever. Or just how he’d fallen madly in love with her. They could work out the details later. He walked to the fireplace, and leaning on the mantle, watched the flames. Moments passed, then he said, “I guess because I have four sisters. Two divorced. I learned all the names girls call rotten guys, and pretty much had it beaten into me that being one of those wasn’t acceptable.”
“I don’t think you are.”
He snorted, but continued to stare into the flames. Cass laced her fingers together. Maybe he was thinking about Stella again. Should she do something about it?
The set of his shoulders warned her off. He’d put up a barrier she couldn’t cross, one she couldn’t bear to live with for another moment. “Jason?”
“What?”
Good question. “Are you mad at me about something?”
“No.”
He sounded angry. “Are you sure?” Sweat drenched her palms, and she felt kind of sick that he might be angry because she hadn’t worked hard enough to save her marriage. There were things she could have done. She could have been more social at parties and more discerning about her taste in movies and plays. Made herself sexier. Confronted Michael about the other women and asked him what he got from them that she didn’t give. She could have learned to be the kind of woman Michael wanted even if that woman wasn’t her.
Would Jason want her to become someone else to please him? Or would he be happy with who she already was? Would great sex, home cooking and companionship be enough for him? Since he wasn’t staying anyway, none of that would probably matter.
“I’m not angry at you.”
He muttered something else under his breath, but she couldn’t summon the courage to ask him to repeat himself. “Well, I’ve got some work to do.” She shuffled into the kitchen and located the index cards. Working on the summer schedule would at least distract her. The papers together, she set everything on the dining room table. He was still standing by the mantle staring into the fire. The air crackled with tension, which could be coming from him, or her worrying about him.
She sat down. Michael used to give her the silent treatment, and it always made her feel small and worthless. Picking up the first blank card, she stared at it. She’d done this for the last three years yet couldn’t remember how to start. Sinking into a small dark place where all she could do was struggle not to cry was all too familiar, though.
“Stop it.”
Cass was on her feet listening to the chair bang into the cabinet behind her before she realized she’d shouted. Jason whirled around, eyes wide and mouth open. Her chest heaved with unshed tears. For a long moment, nothing moved but the fire.
“Stop what?” he asked.
“Shutting me out. You said I didn’t do anything wrong, but you’re not talking to me.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She knew how to roll over and be quiet, how to avoid a fight. Screaming and knocking over furniture wasn’t avoiding anything. He would leave. Pack his things and go, much sooner than she could stand.
Hide. She needed to hide. From him, from her life, from everyone. Wasn’t that the point of being here on the mountain? That’s why she’d never told anyone why her marriage came apart. But then she’d gone and invited the whole world in, in the form of Jason Callisto, and allowed him to see her mistakes. To judge her. Condemn her.
Dodging through the kitchen, she headed for her bedroom, where she might be able to hide, but Jason caught her at the hall door. She tried to pull away, but he dragged her against his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “I didn’t realize what I was doing. I was trying not to take it out on you. I was angry, but never at you.”
At last her tears dried and she relaxed into his arms. He didn’t seem upset about her crying. What was he trying not to take out on her? The thought of getting an answer frightened her. Everything seemed so nice right now and she didn’t want to screw it up again. He tilted her face up to his. His jaw flexed as he studied her face.
“I’m sorry, Cassandra,
bella
, for everything.”
“It’s not your fault I married badly.”
He winced. “Let me make it up to you.” Leaning down, he captured her mouth in a sweet, gentle kiss. Before she had time to recover, he’d lifted her in his arms and carried her into the bedroom.
Kissing away the last of her tears, he laid her on the bed, tangled his long fingers through her hair. Slipping her hands under his shirt, she caressed his warm bare skin. He sighed and moved away a little, pulled his shirt off. Then he captured her hand, guided it across the tight muscles of his abdomen and up his chest to his lips.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her palm. “So sweet. Cassandra.”
The low, intimate tone of his voice went through her and settled warmly inside. She still felt dried out and jittery from her tantrum, but he smoothed across her body, taming her nerves even as he pulled them tight. He began unbuttoning her shirt, kissing each new exposed bit of skin. When he reached her belly button, he dipped his tongue into her. Unable to gather breath, she clutched the bed. Heat welled through her. They’d had sex before, so why was this so dizzyingly new?
Jason unbuttoned her jeans and then lowered the zipper. Sliding up beside her, he slipped his hand inside her clothing, laid it across her stomach.
“Let me make love to you,
bella
,” he whispered. His hot breath caressed her ear. “I want to kiss every part of you. I’ll show you what a woman feels like when she’s with a man who loves her. Lie still and let me do everything.” He covered her mouth with his.
Eyes closed, she allowed herself to just feel. He inched her jeans over her hips and down her legs, dropped her jeans off the side of the bed, then knelt at her feet and rolled her onto her stomach. She pressed her face into a pillow as he kneaded her feet with his strong hands, rubbed each toe with exquisite care. Then he licked her instep, and when his mouth closed over her smallest toe, she couldn’t hold back a moan of pure delight. He suckled it as he massaged her ankle. When he shifted his mouth to her next toe, he moved his hands to the bottom of her calf. He worked across each of her toes and up her calf to her knee. She barely remembered how to breathe.
“Is it good?” he asked, setting her foot down.
Trapped between agony and nirvana, she could only reply with a whimper. Her feet felt lopsided, like one was jealous of the attention the other had received. Her heartbeat slowed to a languorous pace.
Her other foot, he rubbed with the same attentive care, then sucked each toe as he kneaded her calf. When he’d finished, he kissed the back of each knee, exploring the dips and grooves with his tongue. Cass dug her toes into the loose sheets, and as he started working his way up her thighs, clutched the edge of the mattress. He dug into the muscles, squeezing and releasing until she wasn’t sure she had muscles anymore. A low feral growl built in the back of her throat when he reached the tops of her thighs, in anticipation of his skilled fingers touching between her legs, massaging her, filling her.
He reached up and pulled her shirt off her back and unclasped her bra, allowing it to fall loose. Lingering for a moment, he traced her spine, then shifted forward, leaned down and kissed her buttocks. Just when she thought she couldn’t stand not feeling him against her anymore, he rested his body along the length of hers, keeping most of his weight on his knees and elbows. He kissed her shoulders. “You know you’re beautiful, don’t you,
bella
?” he murmured. “You know you’re completely intoxicating? You’re irresistible.”