Page 55 of Dust Storm

I didn’t know why, either.

But the way her lips parted with a soft exhale of shock made my dick wake up and press against the towel.

I hid it behind my hand as I stood there, dripping from the shower.

I cleared my throat. “I know it’s after your working hours. But if you’ll give me a second, I’ll throw on some clothes and we can talk.”

Cassandra stammered for a moment. “Right. Talk. Okay.”

I hid my laugh until I made it back to my room. I liked seeing her flustered.

There were so many sides to Cassandra Parker. She was a consummate professional. A dedicated publicist. A savvy businesswoman.

But she was so much more than her job, and maybe that’s where I had gotten it wrong when we first met.

She was fiercely protective. She didn’t pick her battles; she fought every damn one.

Cassandra wasn’t necessarily flexible, but she was willing to storm a castle, plop down on the throne, and stake her claim.

She didn’t mind sticking out like a sore thumb. She was who she was, and I respected that.

Hell—I liked it.

A lot.

Not that I would do anything about it.

She was prickly when it came to kids. I understood that some people weren’t “kid people,” but I didn’t put up with unwarranted attitudes aimed at my girls.

My mind wandered back to Cassandra’s inquisition when she rode along with me to take the girls to school. I had bristled at the way she pressed Gracie for answers, but Gracie wasn’t bothered by it.

In fact, she came back from school a whole new kid.

Parenting was fucking hard. Bree and Gracie had gone through the full spectrum of pain and grief when we lost Gretchen. I wanted to protect them as much as I could. I wanted to shield them from being hurt.

But Cassandra… Her little speech hadn’t shielded Gracie.It armed her.

I finished throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a clean shirt, grabbed a couple beers from the fridge, and found Cassandra on the porch.

She had changed too, wearing cream colored yoga pants and a loose matching sweater that slumped off her shoulder.

Her skin peeked out, a warm ivory that looked smooth as silk.

God, I wanted to run my hands over it.

I lifted the beers, offering her one. “Sorry I don’t have anything nicer. I drink the cheap stuff.”

Her smile was seductive and dangerous as she took the bottle. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t usually drink beer and won’t know the difference.”

She had perched herself on one side of the porch swing, tucking her legs beneath her, so I took the other half.

“Everything get taken care of today?”

“Yeah,” I grunted. “They were having trouble moving the herd and needed another body.”

Cassandra hummed as she wrapped her lips around the mouth of the bottle and took a drink. “Gentle pressure, right?”

“That’s right.” I kept one foot planted on the porch, gently rocking us back and forth as the crickets sang. “You ready to show me what you’ve got in there?” I asked, using the bottom of my beer to tap the manila folder in her lap.

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