Page 53 of Ordered Home for the Holidays
She gulped, because she hadn’t expected this conversation to come so soon. And because this version of Cass Trenton, charming and solicitous and penitent, could tempt the very devil.
She angled her head away from him and stared into the darkness. “You broke me in more ways than one when you left, Cass. I mended things to the best of my ability, but I can’t afford to do it again. We can sit here and share a dram and a tart. I’ll even let you wash and dry the dishes on the sideboard as payment. But we can never be what we once were. We’re too different now.”
“Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“But you still somehow mustered the strength to do it. And you don’t seem to be any worse for it.”
“Wildflower, you were everything to me. I left because of that.”
Deirdre turned to face him. “You could have deceived me. Not a word in seven years, Cass. Not a single word. When I stopped to think about you, I could do nothing but cry. Because I didn’t even know if you were still alive.”
It wasn’t until she’d settled back in Willow Creek and renewed her friendship with Perry that she’d discovered he was out west. And still alive. Paddy had given her space when the tears came- he’d sensed she didn’t want to share her misery or doubt. And he’d probably suspected that she was mourning her son’s father.
She wondered if Cass would have been as patient or understanding if the situation were reversed. If he’d wed her when she carried another man’s child. If he’d raise the child as his own without blinking an eye.
Her mother still said that Patrick O’Shaugnessy had been a saint. When he’d proposed he’d told her he knew she didn’t love him as he loved her. He’d said it didn’t matter because his love was so big it was more than enough for the two of them. He said his love was big enough to keep her safe. And it had been - until he’d been killed. Now it was up to her to ensure her children were safe and secure. She wasn’t going to jeopardize them by surrendering to the tender feelings of her foolish heart.
“I never forgot us.” He held out the last piece of apple tart- and closed his eyes when she took it, her lips brushing against his knuckles.
“You have a crumb. Here.” He gestured toward the corner of her mouth.
She licked her lips.
“It’s still there.”
The moment he dipped his head, Deirdre knew what he intended. She knew she should protest. Or move away. But it felt as if her heart had awakened in her chest after a long sleep. She felt pinned in place - like a butterfly she’d seen displayed in the naturalist museum.
When his lips landed on hers, it felt like coming home. She knew all the contours of his kiss. The soft sighs it evoked from her, the way it tickled the corners of her mouth as he licked away the crumb that had moved him to action.
His name was still written on her skin, his touch still painted there. All the lines and curves that had shaped her since she cradled their son in her arms for the first time, belonged to him. When she felt the strength of his long fingers against her scalp, buried in her hair to hold her in place, Deirdre knew she needed to break the kiss. It was too fiercely violent and made her want things she could no longer run to.
“You’re dangerous, Cassius Hannibal Trenton.”
She felt his mouth curve into a smile against hers. “So are you Deirdre Elodie Flaherty.”
“I haven’t been a Flaherty in seven years,” she murmured against his cheek as she fisted his shirt.
“I know, but I can’t bear to think of you belonging to anyone else.”
She wrested away from the kiss and let her forehead fall to the space just beneath his collarbone. “I am no longer a girl. Sometimes I wonder if I ever was.” She moved away and held her hand out, twisting it about in the moonlight. “Look at the callouses on my fingers, how chapped my skin is. And this is only one of the things that’s changed on the outside. There are hundreds of them. And I’ve changed even more on the inside - behind my skin.”
He grabbed her hand before she could continue. He dusted his lips across every whorl of the pads of her fingers, and set his teeth on the mound of her palm biting it gently.
Chapter Five
Cass
How was she so oblivious to her own perfection? How was she unaware that even the mountains, majestic as they were, couldn’t compare to the soft curve or her cheek or the bow of her lips or the way sunset framed her hair and set it on fire? He’d never be able to outrun her magic, or the claws it had in his soul. No matter how far away he found himself.
“These hands have made a life. They may be changed, but they are still you. And nothing on earth could happen that would shake my faith in what you’re capable of, or the strength I see inside you. That magic, strong enough to turn the world inside out and shape it to something of your own making, is why I fell in love with you, Wildflower.”
She flushed. “I can’t deny the history between us, Cass. When you kiss me it feels like you never left. That I’m still seventeen and the summer night is full of promise. But I’m not seventeen. I’m twenty-four and a widow. I’ve known sorrows and burdens I cannot share. And winter is upon us.”
Cass watched as she pulled her shawl tighter, her expression hardening. He knew he shouldn’t blame her for donning the mask that now obscured her features. He knew she was passionate and warm beneath the grim line of her lips. Lips that had been kissing him only a moment ago.
“Winter isn’t just about the cold, Wildflower. Things can be born in that season too. Revived even if they’ve withered or been smothered beneath a mantle of snow.”
“Cass, we had our season. It has long since passed and neither one of us is what the other needs.”
