Page 3 of One Night Redemption

Is he right? Is it in my favor? Or does she not care either way. "I guess so."

"It really is." Troy laughs.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because you're looking down at your feet, and you can't see what's in front of you." He smacks me on the back of the head.

"Fucker ..." I mumble, but it's then that I see what he's talking about. There, in the parking lot, next to my Bronco is Cassie. She's standing in the sun like some fucking apparition of the most beautiful person I've ever seen. It's shining down on her like a spotlight from God, himself. From here I can't tell if she has a smile on her face or not, and damned if I'm not scared to know why she's here.

"Who's a fucker now?" he quips, a laugh bubbling up from his chest.

"Still you," I say softly, as we come to the end of our run, and we approach her.

"Hey, Cassie." Troy waves. "Good to see you."

"Good to see you too. You look like you're doing well." She tucks her hands into the hoodie she's wearing, her eyes cutting over to mine before going back to Troy.

"I am, but right now I need to head out to meet Lizzie for lunch. I'll see you later?" He looks over at me.

"Yup, see you tomorrow for briefing."

He waves at both of us. "Be safe, Cam."

"I will. You be safe, too."

Cassie and I stand there in silence as we watch Troy get in his truck and leave. Now that I'm left alone with her, I don't know what to say, don't know where we are.

"So." I kick some of the loose gravel from the asphalt. "What are you doing here?"

She rocks back on her heels, blowing out a breath. Her dark brown hair flutters in the wind, hazel eyes meet mine. "I thought about everything you said in the parking lot. I did nothing but think about it last night, and I realized that if I were in the situation you'd been in, I would be thinking about you too. So, if you're serious? Then I'm serious. Let's give this a shot, Cam."

Those are the words I've been waiting to hear, and damn if they don't sound like a bunch of answered prayers.

Chapter

Three

Cassie

It took everything in me to utter those words. Cam is the ultimate heartbreaker. And maybe he didn’t pulverize mine before, but he certainly left it bruised. Taking a chance on him again … it’s big. Huge. Terrifying. But I haven’t been able to get him out of my head. He’s been front and center in there since the second grade for fuck’s sake. And our all too brief dating debacle didn’t exactly exorcize him. Having that little glimpse of just how good it could be? I’m pretty sure it’s no longer cool to say you're jonesing for something, but cool or not, it’s the truth.

“I’m on shift tonight,” Cam says. “When are you off again?”

“I’m off till Thursday,” I tell him. “Twelve-hour shifts means I only work three days a week.”

“Then I’ll pick you up tomorrow night. Seven o’clock. And I won’t be late,” he says solemnly, dragging his finger over his heart in an X. “Promise.”

“Don’t promise me anything. I can’t trust your promises, Cam. We are very much in the ‘I’ll believe it when I see it’ era.” I know I’m being kind of a bitch. But I don’t like him thinking I’m some kind of pushover or that I’m desperate. I’d rather be alone than be a doormat. I saw too much of that shit growing up. I’m way more like my Mamaw than my mother and I thank God for that every day. My mother would have sold her soul for any man who was even just polite to her.

“Cass … I know I said it before, but it’s worth saying again. I’m sorry. Sorrier than you’ll ever know. Me not showing up that night didn’t hurt just you.”

“I should hope not. I’m worth missing, Cam. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

With that mic drop, I get in my pink Caddy and drive off. I’m gonna go see Lizzie and get my hair done. I’m gonna get a manicure and a pedicure and a bikini wax and I’m not doing any of that for his benefit. It’s for me. All of that shit—it’s just armor. And I need all of that I can get.

“I think a glaze just to boost the shine, and maybe some lowlights underneath with a few money pieces to frame your face.”

Lizzie is analyzing me like she’s building an atomic bomb. She takes her work seriously and I am eternally grateful for that. I made the mistake of coloring my hair on my own one time. She threatened my life if I ever did it again. Since it turned a muddy, swamp-water brownish green, she was perfectly entitled.

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