Page 59 of Crazy Little Thing Called Love

No one would be on his side once the dust settled. He knew that with bone-deep certainty. When picking sides, there was no way he’d come out looking like anything but the bad guy. No one would pick him over the sweet, generous, hardworking Cassie. A problem he hadn’t thought of going into all of this.

Didn’t matter. The townspeople could think whatever they wanted. He’d take their disapproval, couldn’t hurt his reputation any worse than it already was. Besides, he’d gladly take their disdain as long as none of it fell on Cassie.

Dammit, he was in deep.

He was on a dangerous slope with this woman. As much as the idea appealed to him, he needed to make sure he didn’t slip and fall. Because he damn sure knew she wouldn’t fall with him.

When he arrived at her house, he paused for a moment, taking in the charming old house. He could see why Cassie felt such a connection to this place. The white Victorian with yellow trim was so picturesque. Like something out of a storybook. He could see a family living in this house. The kids running around the yard while the parents watched from their relaxing spot on the front porch, rocking away in the deck chairs while sipping tea or a delicious Old Fashioned.

The image started to morph, shift into one of him and Cassie gazing lovingly at two little dark-haired children with their mother’s trademark curls and his bright blue eyes. He shook his head, dispelling the daydream and heading up the front porch steps.

Oddly nervous, he ran a hand through his hair before knocking lightly. When the door opened, he sucked in a sharp breath. Cassie stood in the doorway in shorts and a T-shirt, hair haphazardly piled on her head in some kind of messy bun that made him want to pull it apart and run his fingers through her bouncy curls. She looked soft and comfortable and so damn sexy his body ached to take her. But that wasn’t why he was here.

“Del? Um, hi.”

Not exactly the warm welcome he’d hoped for, but after the way they left things this morning, he wasn’t surprised.

“For you,” he said, holding up the box of chocolates.

Her eyes lit with hunger. “Are those Fannie’s dark chocolate raspberry truffles?”

“Yup.”

She grabbed the box from his hands, bringing it up to her nose and inhaling deeply. “They’re my favorite.”

“I know.” He chuckled as her eyes widened in surprise. “You keep a box of them in your freezer. I saw it was running low the other night.”

“You bought me more.” Her gaze fell to the box and then rose back to him. “Why?”

He shrugged, hoping to come off more casual than he truly felt. “I’ve heard the best way to apologize is with chocolate.”

The corner of her lips quirked up in a small smile. “And what do you have to apologize for?”

“I’m not sure, but I do know whatever I did I’m sorry about it.” He pasted on his most charming grin, the one that got him out of bad trouble as a kid and got him in fun trouble as an adult.

“Del.” She laughed when he winked, but then her expression turned serious. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. This morning I… I don’t know, I guess the stress of everything just got to me, and I took it out on you. Which wasn’t fair.”

“What’s stressing you out? Maybe I can help.” He wanted to help, that was the weird thing. All his life he’d gone the easy route. Quit school when it got too hard, traveled around when he got bored, left relationships when they became too real. But he was done with all that. He wanted to do more. He wanted to be more. Finishing his degree was only the start. Now he wanted to prove himself with the restaurant, with Cassie. He wanted to help her, however she needed it.

“No. It’s fine.”

Bull. He had a sister. Fine in woman-speak meant anything but. He couldn’t force her to talk if she didn’t want to, so instead he asked, “You still up for that movie? We can grab a bite to eat too if you haven’t had dinner yet.”

She glanced down at herself. “I’m kind of a mess—”

“You look beautiful, Cassie.” And she did. No matter if she wore a ratty pair of shorts and an old shirt, dolled up in a sexy dress, or nothing at all—his personal favorite—she always looked amazing.

She smiled, shaking her head. “You’re just saying that because I’m your fake fiancée and you have to.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true.”

Her smile faltered, eyes gazing into his, seeing something in them that caused her to let out a small gasp. He was trying to keep things light and fun, hide his confusing emotions, but he knew some of it must have shown because she swallowed hard, biting her bottom lip. He thought he saw some of the same struggles in her gaze.

He was too much of a chicken to ask. Whatever her answer was, he didn’t know if he could handle it. Hell, he could barely handle the perplexing feelings kicking around his own brain.

“Just give me ten minutes,” she finally said, motioning for him to wait in her living room. “I’ll throw something more appropriate on and be right out.”

Something in his chest eased. He hadn’t screwed everything up. Good, because he was coming to realize hanging out, making love, even sitting around doing nothing with Cassie was a blast. Never had he felt this content around a person, like he could be his true self. Not even with his siblings did he open up as much as when he was with Cassie. With her, he felt comfortable, safe.

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