Page 23 of Cassie
Cassie
Hoss stood with her in his arms, turned and sat on the couch, lifted and arranged her until he was satisfied, then rumbled at her to, “Sleep, babe. I’ll be here.”
I know you will be, she wanted to say. Wanted to repeat back to him all the reassurances he’d just offered her, but didn’t have his courage. The panic attack had begun three days ago when she’d had to work extra on a manuscript, canceling an evening in she’d been looking forwards to.
Not much at first, just the sharp annoyance of anxiety. More a buzzing between her ears that kept her from resting, but it had then built slowly from that to tightness in her throat, then a full-blown frenzy she couldn’t control. Because of how they made her feel, she’d always hated to take the prescribed meds, so Cassie had tried to beat it back this time, as she’d done so many times before. Her fears hadn’t soared out of control like this in a long time, and as things intensified for her, she’d desperately wanted to phone Hoss, but following a long-standing protocol had dialed her doctor instead.
The doctor had been out of town when she called, and Cassie had forced a false brightness into her voice as she’d reassured the call service she didn’t need an emergency referral. She’d managed before and hadn’t expected this to be any different.I’ve got this, she’d told herself, as she’d tipped her head back and swallowed the pills.
But something had gone wrong.
Instead of helping create a buffer between her brain and the panic, the medication seemed to ramp up her fears until even the memory of them was overwhelming. After not sleeping that first night, exhaustion had caused the feelings of impending doom to escalate as her psyche went from telling her not to bother a busy Hoss with her problems, to the certainty that he’d be better off if he’d never met her. She knew he wouldn’t have accepted a brush off as an answer, so caught as she’d been between an unreasonable terror of losing him and the psychological imperative to be alone, the only solution seemed to sell everything and leave town.
Thank God Tugboat hadn’t listened when she’d ordered him out of her house.
Cassie winced at the apologies she needed to make. She’d yelled at the man, screamed at him to leave her alone, threatened him with arrest. He’d ignored it all, as well as every shout of profanity she’d directed his way. At least by the time Hoss showed up, she’d dropped from whatever agitated, manic state she’d been in to a more passive one, exhausted from three days and nights of continued terror.
And now, here he was. She didn’t understand how he’d known she needed him, but from the moment he’d walked into the room, the earth under her feet felt steadier. She’d felt stable, anchored by his wordless acceptance of whatever was making her afraid. His arms around her hadn’t been confining but freeing, holding her in place with an unstated promise he wouldn’t let go.
She took in a deep breath, relishing the looseness of her lungs. Pressure on the top of her head signaled another gentle kiss from Hoss, and she draped her arm across his gut and squeezed.
“Thank you.”
She was nearing sleep when he softly said, “I’m honored to be here, babe.” His chest rumbled and she smiled tiredly as her eyes drifted closed. “Do whatever you need, Cassie.”
She woke the next morning before the sun was up. He was sleeping beside her on the couch, arms still tightly around her. Her first thought was to control her attack, only to realize there was no panic. Through several false starts when she was certain he’d wake, she eased up on one elbow and studied his face in the faint light coming in from the kitchen. Even in sleep he wore a frown, brows furrowed so a thin line formed between them. She reached up and traced a tentative stroke along his hairline, surprised at how soft his skin was. She caressed his temple, then continued to explore, her thumb and forefinger applying gentle pressure to an earlobe. His jaw and cheeks were scruffy with beard stubble, and she scratched softly, enjoying the rasping roughness against her fingertips.
He cleared his throat and hummed for a moment, then his chin angled down and his eyes were blinking sleepily up at her. Lips pursed, he stared at her. She laughed softly when he ordered, “Kiss,” through nearly closed lips. Cassie bent to him and brushed her lips across his mouth. “Mmmm.” His eyes closed and breathing turned heavy again, and she thought she’d lost him to sleep. Then one hand moved down her back, over the curve of her ass, cupping where it met her thigh. He tightened his grip and pulled, shifting her so she slid up and across his chest, putting her mouth in close proximity of his. “Kiss.”
She complied with his demand again, lingered for a moment as their mouths pressed together. “I have morning breath,” she whispered, laying her cheek against the base of his neck.
“Me, too.” She tipped her head to look at his face, smiling at how he pouted. “This is nice.”
“My couch?” Cassie grinned as she joked with him, because she knew what he meant, and it wasn’t how good her couch was to sleep on.He’s just so easy to be with.
“Not hardly.” Eyes still closed, he scoffed and grinned. “I meant waking up holding you.”
“You like me all sprawled out across you?” She rolled closer, mouthing the side of his neck, smiling when he groaned.
“Yeah,” he said softly, arms tightening around her. “I like you right where you are.”
