Page 49 of Cajuns. Love. Curves.

Cassie: About like you’d expect. He’s grim. Quiet. Determined to walk again. Convinced he’s going to blow through PT like he’s breaking the land speed record.

Nick: Lol. Sounds about right.

Nick: Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.

Cassie: I wish you were here to just give me a hug.

Nick: Isn’t that what your boyfriend is for?

Cassie: Actually, we broke up.

Cassie:

Nick: Sorry. Was away from my phone for a bit there.

Nick: I wish I was there to hug you. And your boyfriend is an idiot.

Cassie: That’s the point. He’s not mine anymore.

chaptertwenty-four

Nick

I jog halfway around the island before I calm down enough to think straight.

And, yeah. It’s jogging. I’m not running away. It’s part of my normal fitness routine. And even if it wasn’t, part of winning is knowing when to make a strategic retreat.

Eventually, I stop running, plant my palms on my knees and take one deep breath after another. Here, the beach is narrower, the water calmer. There’s no breeze coming off the Caribbean sea and as soon as I stop moving, the mosquitoes swarm.

I feel like there’s a joke in here somewhere… something about lawyers being blood suckers, but I don’t think I have the clarity of mind to pull it out.

It’s not Cassie I’m mad at, so making jokes at her expense—even in my mind—doesn’t help.

No, I’m mad at myself. I knew going into this that she was going to be a tough nut to crack. I knew she had a hard, crusty outer layer that came from being the younger sister of two badass Navy SEALS and having to fight for every ounce of attention and respect in a busy household. And then going off to college and law school and having to fight even harder to hold her own against people with private school educations and family connections. And that was before that asshole broke her heart.

I knew all that.

I knew it would take time and hard work to worm my way past her defenses. I knew that.

I knew going in. I thought I was ready to play the game.

And then I blew it.

The moment she was standing naked before me, the taste of her on my lips, begging me to fuck her, I lost all my common sense and what few brain cells I had left.

Yeah. I fucked up.

But that doesn’t mean I’m backing down.

But it does mean I need a plan. I need to regroup.

I love Cassie—all the stubborn, brilliant, defiant parts of her. I just need to convince her of that.

So I do the only thing I know to do. I call for backup.

An hour and a half later, Jonah picks me up in his boat and takes me back to Libélula Caye. The boat ride is predictably loud and Jonah isn’t particularly a guy who talks a lot anyway, so he doesn’t even ask why I needed him to come get me.

Jonah and I met during BUD/S, the brutal six month training all SEALs go through. He had the nickname Silent Bob, after some character from a Kevin Smith movie I’ve never seen. Jonah is a big fucker, but also about the quietest guy I’ve ever met.

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