Page 28 of Because of Her

After turning the alarm off, I look back up to see Cassidy picking at the plastic wrapped around the boxes.

“Will you wait here while I get my car?”

When my brows pinch and a gruff sound escapes my throat, she adds, “Not for all the trips, just to help me figure out the best way to get as much in the car in one go.”

“Wait here.”

Racing up the stairs, I grab my keys and phone from my apartment before heading down to the parking garage. I send a quick text to my assistant, asking him to reschedule all my morning meetings, before jumping into my oversized SUV.

As I pull up out the front of the building, Cassidy’s face twists. Frustration melts away as her cheeks puff up and the corners of her lips start to turn.

“You have a big car,” she squeals. She leaps towards me and I throw my arms up to catch her. She stops herself though, stepping back before our bodies collide.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, her cheeks red as she stares at her feet.

I wrap my arms around her and pull her body against mine. I soak in the feeling as she relaxes into me. Her closeness warms a part of my heart I thought had been frozen forever. When the thawing spreads lower in my core, I force myself to think of anything but how Cassidy feels in my arms, but I can’t seem to let her go. The sweet smell of her hair wakes me up more than my run did, more than a coffee ever could. It speaks to my soul.

“Morning, love birds!” The old lady from apartmentthirty-one whistles as she exits the building. There’s a spring in her step as she walks off down the street, crochet shopping bag swinging on her wrist.

“Morning, Mrs Kelly!”

Cassidy pulls away from our embrace, and I allow her to drop. She slides down, creating friction in all the best places. All the places that don’t need that sort of friction while wearing running shorts.

She turns away, and I reach down to tuck my growing length away before striding over to help her.

We unwrap the pallet and move all the boxes to my car. The boxes are light, but even with the seats folded flat, the boot space fills quickly. I break into a slight sweat under the autumn sun, but Cassidy grins the whole time. Knowing I’m the reason her morning mood shifted, adds another layer of heat to my body, this one spreading from my heart.

Once the car is full, I look down at the empty pallet.

“Do you need that?”

She shakes her head, so I drag it around the back corner. I lean it against the large blue dumpster, hoping someone picks it up for firewood. If not, I’ll have to pull it apart to fit it in the bin before collection day.

“As much as I want to ride in a Mercedes, I need my car at the shop,” Cassidy says as I head back to my SUV. “I texted you the address and I’ll meet you there.”

I wave her off as she heads toward the car park. I climb into the car that yesterday felt a bit old but now feels too flashy.

Betty Blooms Boutique isn’t far from the apartment building, but by the time I pull up, I’m beyond late for my workday. A hint of concern over my tardiness furrows at my brow, until I see Cassidy inside her shop. The way her hair shines in the morning sun, the way her face lights up when she sees my car parked out the front, it makes everything else melt away.

I leap out of the car when she opens the boutique, gesturing for me to come in. The space is perfect. White, pink, and neutral flower decals scatter the front windows. The double wooden doors reach the ceiling, opening inward to create a passage past the windows. I can picture the fresh blooms spreading into the space, and pride swells in my chest. I can’t believe she created all this from nothing.

Cassidy was always creative, and as a teenager I admired her ability to turn the mundane into something beautiful. Napkins folded into swans, receipt roll snowflakes decorating the tearoom at Christmas, collages of magazine cutouts that looked suspiciously like annoying customers. The break room used to be filled with her creations. It seems fitting she built a career in such a creative industry.

“This place is amazing,” I tell her as I haul the first two boxes out of the car.

She shrinks a little, picking up a box of her own and following me in.

Inside is somehow even more perfect. The walls are lined with exposed brick, and a large modern chandelier hangs from the centre of the ceiling. A wooden slab bench forms the counter to one side, and large low tables are dotted through the rest of the space. Metal buckets filled with various flowers and greenery are scattered through the space.

“I still need to set up after the weekend,” she mumbles as she places her box near the back wall.

I empty my arms and pull her into an embrace. My hands caress her back, moving up into the hair at the nape of her neck. When her shoulders begin to relax under my arms, I spin her around and hold her back to me. One hand splays across her front, holding her in place. Her breath hitches.

“This is all yours,” I whisper in her ear. “Look what you created.”

Cassidy scoffs, but her breaths are forced. Slow and long. Pulling away, she turns to face me.

“If I can keep it.” Her whole body drops, shoulders curling inward as she hangs her arms by her sides and stares at her feet. “I don’t think I’ll be able to afford the rent with no winter weddings booked.”

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