Page 31 of Always Heated

“Two-sixty.” My lip tilts up while Cass’s gaze darts between me and the woman.

After a moment of standoff, she concedes. “Cash only.”

Cassidy reaches into her bag, but there’s no way in hell I’ll let her buy my furniture. I’m faster retrieving my wallet and pull out exact cash, but the woman gestures for us to follow her to the register. I figured this would be more of a swap meet situation, but after the additional eight or so percent tax, I take out an additional twenty bucks and tell her to keep the change.

I load the tables into the truck bed, strapping them down, while Cass gets in the cab. We visit four more shops and my stomach is grumbling, even after a croissant snack. “What sounds good for lunch?”

“Surprise me.” She offers me a sweet smile, but it isn’t one that meets her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

Cass chews on her lip. “I… I don’t want to talk about it. I’m fine.”

I huff a humorless laugh. “You sound anything but fine. Talk to me, what’s going on?”

“I’m just in a funk.” She then rushes out, “It’s not you! I forgot to pack my medication.”

“Which one?” I cock an eyebrow and tease, “Are we going to have a repeat of Ingrid and Cay?”

Reaching into her purse, she pulls out her birth control. “Not a chance. I keep these in my purse since my schedule is always different. When I packed my makeup, I forgot my antidepressants.”

I take her hand in mine, bringing her knuckles to my lips. “Want to go back home to get them?”

“You’re not weirded out that I’m on medication for…”

“Depression?” Shaking my head, I frown. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know. Zack used to?—”

“I’m not Zack,” I growl, taking my hand back for a moment to turn my key in the ignition. I slide it back into hers and squeeze. “I know we haven’t talked about this, but your mental health is just as important as your physical health. There is no shame in taking medication or going to therapy. I worry about you, Cass. You spread yourself so thin, it’s only a matter of time before you burn out.”

“I’m not quitting my jobs,” she huffs, trying to take her hand back, but I keep it firmly in mine.

“I would never ask you to. But I’m still allowed to worry. Let’s pick up lunch to go, and head back to your place.”

“No! I don’t want to ruin this weekend.”

“You’re not ruining anything.” I take her face in my hands and kiss her. “You’re perfect, and the weekend isn’t over when we are back home. What do you say we pick up Inferno and your medication, then have a quiet afternoon at my place? I have a tri tip in the fridge I was going to grill tonight.”

“Why are you so okay with this? I’m not sunshine and rainbows all the time; I’m a fucking mess.”

“You’re right. You’re not sunshine after it rains. You’re the fucking storm, Cass. But you’remystorm.”

She stops and starts a rebuttal that never comes. I pull out of the parking spot and drive to a taqueria down the street in silence. I don’t want her to change; I don’t want her to be anything less than her amazing self. What I do want is for her to be open and honest with me. It’s the only way our relationship will work.

After picking up burritos, we drive back to Sapphire Lake to pick up my pup and her meds; I’ll drop off the tables at the lake house in the morning. Once we’re at my place, I take the stairs two at a time to retrieve sweatpants and tees for us. Cass is always more comfortable in my clothes. Hell, I’m more comfortable when she’s in my clothes; she feels more mine. As much as I’d love to have her naked body pressed against mine, I need her to feel how much I love her—not just her perfect pussy. A nap date is a must, but my bed will lead to sex, not sleep.

I lay on the couch and Cass climbs on top of me. I love the feel of her this close, like a human weighted blanket. The downside of some SSRIs is they take a while to kick in, but if you miss a dose, you can notice very quickly. She won’t be her happy self today, but I don’t expect her to.

“I love you, Travis,” she whispers sleepily.

“I know. I love you too.”

cassidy

. . .

Two Months Later