Heaven Beside You (22 page)

“Oh, I promise you, that gets old real fast.”

Turned away from the window, she leaned on the wall. “There isn’t time for anything to get old. He’s going to leave, and what am I going to do then?”

“You’re going to do what you did before. You’ll run your camp and be adored by your whole town,” Gretta told her.

“That’s the other problem.” Cass slumped and closed her eyes. “The town. What if they find out what’s been going on up here?”

“They’ll assume you’re a perfectly normal adult female who had a shot at the hottest male on Earth. Give them a little credit.”

“Gretta, this isn’t New York. This kind of behavior just isn’t done around here. Not when you’re a responsible adult.”

“Can I remind you that when you were in New York, the best you managed to do was get drunk with a gay man and learn to cook better than Betty Crocker? Cassie, your little home town is cute and everything, but they’re not totally stupid. They won’t shun you or make you sew scarlet
A
s on your clothes.” Gretta sighed. “Look, I don’t want to burst your bubble, but you’ve given me no choice. Repeat after me—I am not in love with Jason.”

“I am not in love with Jason.”

“I don’t have to be in love with a man to have sex with him. Especially not if he’s Jason Callisto.”

Cass repeated after her. Gretta was right. That’s why she’d called her. She’d known Gretta would be right.

“I deserve this and I’m not going to ruin it with a bunch of emotional horse shit.” Gretta said.

“Horse shit?” Laughing, Cass looked out the window. Jason had gotten out a trowel. His pyramid now stood about five feet tall with a flat top and he seemed to be adding tiny steps.

“You heard me. Let it be what it is. If you want to make him feel better, do it by being the rebound relationship and envy the heck out of the next girlfriend.”

Cass twisted the phone cord around her finger. “So how do I make myself stop feeling like…like…”

“A whore?”

“That’s a little strong, but kind of. I just feel cheap about the whole thing.”

“How so?”

Shame clawed at her chest. “I can’t help feeling like he thinks he paid for me along with the cabin rental.” She could see his cabin from her window, too. She should drain the pipes and close it up again.

“You can’t pay for what’s given freely. Were sexual services itemized on the bill?”

“No.”

“Then stop being so guilty and relax. You’ve been half dead since Michael dumped you. So Michael didn’t want you. Look who does.”

Outside, Jason knelt in the snow, looking up at the third side of his temple. His shoes, gloves and coat weren’t up to this kind of biting cold. She should warm a blanket by the fire for him. “Okay.”

“And you call me if you need me.”

“Yes, mother.”

“Damn right. You take care of yourself first. Worry about what he thinks, and what the town thinks later or not at all. Preferably, not at all. If they can’t handle the fire, they need to climb out of the Victorian Era already. And I’ve met some of those folks. They are not as uptight as you think. All they might be is really jealous. Then you have my permission to revel in it.”

“Revel?”

“Sure, what good is other people’s jealousy if you can’t enjoy it?”

That made her laugh. Basking in the beauty queen’s jealousy would be better than skulking around, guilty, for the next sixty years.

Jason stood in front of the last side of his Aztec pyramid. It hadn’t started out to be one, but once he’d found the shovel so he could make the sides nice and square and the trowel to carve out the steps, it had seemed appropriate. The Aztecs ripped out peoples’ hearts on these things anyway. He’d been at the bottom of the third side, working with numb fingers, when he’d realized this whole mess was his fault.

He’d been sent here to get his head together.

Instead, he’d pursued her then teased and seduced her.

He couldn’t expect her not to take advantage of the situation.

But, he was going home in about a week and a half after a short, torrid, very satisfying affair, and no law said he had to take her with him.

Jason looked for the trowel to carve out the steps. She hadn’t torn out his heart, Stella had. Stella had been wrong for him. Cass had shown him what he wanted in a woman and a wife. Somebody to take care of him who would allow him to take care of her, who didn’t expect to be entertained and wasn’t trying to entertain. A woman who could stand on her own, but didn’t feel like she had to do it all the time. Who thought about him and not just about what he could do for her. He would have to go home and find that woman. She had to be out there some place.

By the time he went inside, he couldn’t feel his fingers and his feet were a memory, but his heart was somewhat less battered. He stamped snow off his shoes as he walked through the garage. About now, a hot bath would do the trick. Afterward he could lure Cass to bed and make love to her for the second time today. His appetite for her was insatiable. He hadn’t had this much stamina at eighteen.

“Stop right there.”

When he turned away from the door he’d just closed, Cass stood blocking the other end of the hall. A smear of paint smudged her cheek, and she looked deadly serious. A flash of fear hit him. The way he’d stormed out, had he hurt her? His temper had gotten him packed off here in the first place, maybe it had pissed off his refuge, too. “Listen, Cass, I’m—”

“Off with everything.”

If she meant to seduce him, this was a really funny way of handling it. “What?”

“You’re dripping wet and I don’t want you dragging it all over my house. Take off all your clothes and hang them in the bathroom. Then come out here by the fire.” She started to turn away.

“I was going to take a bath to warm up.” Jason stripped off his gloves, hoping they weren’t ruined. They didn’t look healthy, all shriveled with half the fingers turned inside out. He’d forgotten how it felt to be unsure of a woman’s reception. Most women fell all over themselves to please him.

Now she looked at him with one eyebrow raised as if he were a bug in her garden. “You’ll burn yourself before you warm up enough to realize it. Come on. Get out of those wet things and come out here. I’ve got some blankets warming by the fire.” She disappeared from the end of the hall.

Jason slunk into the bathroom, wondering how much trouble he was in. He’d treated her pretty badly, throwing her cards in the fire and stomping out. Even if she were trying to manipulate him, he didn’t have to act like a jerk. He leaned on the wall and tried to untie his sneakers, but his numb fingers couldn’t grasp the laces, so he sat down on the edge of the tub, hoping for a better grip.

“Aren’t you out of those clothes yet?” Cass asked from the bathroom door.

Jason looked up. The snow was melting down the back of his neck. An icy drop slid down his spine and made him shudder. As the temperature of his body registered with his brain, his teeth chattered.

“Oh, look at you.” Cass sighed. “You’re hopeless.”

She stepped forward, grabbed a towel from the rack, draped it over his head and rubbed his wet hair. Wanting to lean forward and let her minister to him, he closed his eyes. Quickly she dried his hair and tucked the towel around his neck. Then she knelt at his feet. “I’ll get the shoes. You get that coat off. Just toss it in the tub. I’ll hang it up in a minute. You should have taken a break to warm up. The snow will still be there.” She tossed his shoes in the corner and reached for his sweatshirt.

“If I’m going to undress anyway, I know of something more fun we could do.” Jason tried to grin, but his teeth were chattering in earnest now.

With a snort, she brushed his clumsy fingers away from his fly. “I don’t want your hands on me until they’re at least room temperature.”

“Are you sure?” He reached for her and she leaned away.

“I’m positive. I’ll take a rain check.” She pulled him to his feet and pushed his soaked jeans and underwear down to his ankles, ending up at eye level with his erection.

“I think I like you there,” he said, and patted the top of her head.

“I’ll bet. You can still forget it.” A pretty flush bloomed on her cheeks. Her breathing seemed a little shallow, too. Perhaps with a nudge in the right direction, she would change her plans.

“I promise not to touch you with my cold hands. In fact, I won’t touch you with any of my cold parts.”

“That’s almost impossible.” Cass stood up. “Every part of you is a cold part.”

“Not all of them.”

“Enough to make me not want you on top of me.”

“That’ll make it more interesting.” Despite what she’d said, when he cupped his hand around her cheek and kissed her, she leaned against him, welcoming his cold lips on her warm, soft ones. Her sweater and jeans rubbed his cold flesh as her hands danced across his shoulders, and he eased a hand around her waist, under her sweater, on her hot bare skin.

Yelping, she jumped away.

“I thought you weren’t going to touch me with your cold hands.” She pressed herself against the bathroom wall.

“I already was.”

“Well, not under my clothes.”

“It’s hard to resist touching you. What can I say?”

She stepped away, and he felt colder than he had before. The shivering returned with a vengeance.

“Come on, you need to get warmed up for real.”

“I was getting warmed up for real,” he protested, but followed her down the hall. It felt good to be naked in her house. He didn’t like to leave his bedroom naked at home, but walking around her house seemed perfectly comfortable. There wasn’t any chance of paparazzi catching him and putting him in
Playgirl
between Sting doing yoga and Brett Michaels doing Pam Anderson. The house was warm and, even though his feet felt like half frozen hams and his hands had started to throb unpleasantly, he liked the touch of the air on his skin.

“Here,” she said as she draped a soft, warm blanket across his shoulders. The heat coming from the fibers enclosed him in a cocoon of warmth. “I warmed it in front of the fire for you. You sit down here and I’ll wrap up your feet, and then I’ll get some hot chocolate for you.”

“Such service, you provide here. I’ll have to tell all my friends,” Jason said settling on the couch. He thought she flinched, but decided he was wrong.

“This service is special to you, my dear.” With another blanket from the hearth, she wrapped his feet. Whether from the chill on them or the warm blanket, his feet throbbed to life. He closed his eyes and let the skirl of sensation run through him.

A beautiful woman tended to him without the usual demands for sex in return. Most women he met did things for him because they knew they would get some and could then go brag to their friends. Because she’d wanted to take care of him first, she’d turned down an invitation for sex. He’d have to add that to the list of things he wanted in a wife. Someone more interested in his well being than in getting the all-important notch on her bedpost.

“Here, drink this.” Kneeling on the couch beside him, she cradled a steaming mug in her hands.

“What is it?”

“Hot chocolate.” She settled the warm cup in his hands and brushed her fingers through his damp hair. “I’ll have to remember to call you in when it gets cold outside. You’ve been living in California too long.”

The hot chocolate tasted sweet and rich, and going down, was as comforting as the feel of her hand in his hair. “This isn’t the cocoa mother used to make.”

“Depends on the mother.” Cass stood up. “Mine always put a shot of brandy in it when we got really cold.” She walked out and he heard her in the bathroom, hanging his clothes to dry.

The fire on the hearth crackled, the flames leaping wildly around the log, pumping out heat. She’d built it up for him. Would she be interested in a mistress arrangement? He could come out here for a couple of weeks every year. Closer to the end of this trip he’d propose it and see how she took the idea. He leaned his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes.

* * * *

Cass carried his shoes and mangled gloves to the living room. “Jason, these look like driving gloves.”

Asleep. Setting the gloves and shoes on the hearth, she went over to rescue the half-empty mug from his lax fingers. She’d figured he would drift off, but hadn’t realized it would happen so fast. While settling the blanket more securely around his neck, her fingers strayed up his neck, and she stroked his cheek. He was going to wake up sore and hungry. Maybe cranky, too, which made her smile. Somehow, as nervous as she became when he got moody, it was still endearing to watch. Gretta was wrong. This was not simple lust, and Cass was knee-deep in “emotional horse shit.” Possibly deeper.

She downed the rest of the hot chocolate in three large gulps then turned to the shoes and gloves. Thin, leather driving gloves. If she’d known, she’d have insisted he wear Dan’s work gloves. They would have been better suited to snow sculpting. These were for piloting a Ferrari with a good heating system. And the shoes. Canvas sneakers. Not that she could have done anything about his shoes other than force him to come inside and warm up every fifteen minutes. She arranged his things on the stone hearth where they would dry.

As she walked behind the couch to her easel, she couldn’t resist running her fingers through his hair again. She’d have to keep the depth of her feelings under wraps until he left or he might leave before the two weeks were up. It was going to be a long enough winter after he left without hurrying that inevitability.

Out the window, the storm had started, blocking her view of the valley. It didn’t matter. She could paint the scene from memory.

* * * *

The next morning they woke to another eighteen inches of snow sitting atop the two feet they’d had yesterday. The new snow covered Jason’s ziggurat, leaving it looking more like an Egyptian pyramid. Over breakfast, he announced he wanted to build a life size Olmec head.

“Dan’s gloves are by the front door in the basket, and don’t forget to come in to warm up when you start to get cold,” she reminded him as she handed him a coffee table book on archeology.