55 - Why Him?

“We’re not in love.”

The near-simultaneous denial from both Cassidy and Jon had David’s eyebrows drawing down in disbelief and the corner of his mouth kicking up with a skeptical smirk. 

“Yeah, okay.  Whatever.”

Who the hell did they think he was?   Some slobbering moron who was blind in one eye and couldn’t see out of the other?  That’s pretty much summed up the profile of the only guy who could miss the obvious feelings these two shared. 

If they didn’t want to call it love, fine.  They could call it whatever they wanted, but it was well-beyond a simple physical attraction.  He probably should have guessed that when Jon had admitted she was his “sanity” and brought “peace and mental clarity”. 

“We’re not in love, goddammit,” Jon insisted, glancing in Cassidy’s direction and she supported him with a silent but emphatic nod of affirmation.  “End of discussion.”

Oh, no.  It wasn’t even close to the end.  It was merely the semi-colon in the middle of the sentence.  David had plenty more to say to his friend on this particular subject, because Jon didn’t look as though he realized what kind of potentially fucked-up pile of shit that he was standing in. 

The woman who had made Jon happy now held in her hands the power to make him more miserable than he’d been in the beginning.  It sucked that David was obviously going to have to explain that in great painstaking detail, but he felt obligated. 

It sucked even more than Jon wasn’t likely to listen. 

Tomorrow’s flight is going to be just swell.

“No, buddy,” he sighed, pushing to his feet and dropping the coffee cup to the table.  “We have much more to discuss but, since I don’t want to bore Cassidy with the details, I’ll pick this back up at a later date.  I know you’ll excuse me to do my sleuthing.”

Without offering anything further as a formal goodbye, he scuffled flip-flopped feet scuffled across the carpet and twisted the knob that would allow him to exit the room.  The heavy door closed automatically behind him with a muffled ‘bang’.

Well, that was awkward, Cassidy thought as she determinedly extracted her hand from Jon’s.  This time, he allowed it.

“Cassidy, don’t let that-“

Pasting on a bright and sunshiny smile, she stood and quietly requested, “Jon, please don’t try and tend something’ that doesn’t need tendin’ to.   We both know where things stand.  Just let it be.”

You know where things stand.  Feelin’s that aren’t gettin’ labeled doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

Feelings were simply that – feelings.  Sometimes they needed to be overlooked for the greater good and, considering the state of affairs, this was one of those times.  He wasn’t good for her secret life right now, because he was such a public persona and she wasn’t good for him because a public persona had a hard time keeping a secret life. 

That’s the way the fortune cookie crumbles.

“Hey.”  Jon popped to his feet, attaching firm fingers to her elbow so that he could turn her to stand in his looming shadow.  “I’m not ruling it out.  It’s just too soon to make that decision.”

Chuckling quietly, she shook her head at him in amusement.  “Baby doll, I can’t say as I’m an expert, but I’m of the opinion that bein’ in love ain’t a decision you make.  It’s one that gets made for you.”

“I disagree,” was his quiet rebuttal and crystalline blue eyes illuminated with a soft glow.  “Lust.  Chemistry.  Those things control you, but loving someone is a choice that’s made every day.  Every goddamn day, you wake up and consciously decide whether you’re going to overlook another person’s faults in favor of the good shit.  You choose who you want by your side when everything goes to hell.”

Damn his tone of voice.  What should have sounded like an assassination of Cupid and his quiver full of heart-tipped arrows was anything but.  Jon’s normal speaking voice would’ve conveyed that but, when offered so thoughtfully and with such an attentive gaze, it felt a whole lot like he was choosing her.

Stop wool-gatherin’ from Mary’s little lambs and focus on reality. 

“Are those the choices you make about your wife every mornin’?” 

Asking made Cassidy both a bitch and a glutton for punishment, but it kept things were they needed to be.  She needed that more desperately right now than she did the butterflies dancing in her stomach.

“Most days I don’t choose at all and simply ride the wave.”  One shoulder lifted lackadaisically as if trying to diminish the significance of the admission.  “I’m sure you did the same with your husband.”

Then he would be wrong, because Cassidy had never had a husband, despite the multiple offers.  There was probably an assortment of deep-seated psychological reasons for that, but she chose to summarize by saying that it never felt right.  In recent years, she had come to accept that she was meant to go through this life solo and that was fine.  It was still a beautiful life.

His though, she wondered about.  Why had he stopped choosing to love his wife? 

None of your business.

“I’ve never been married.”

“Never?”  His eyebrows skated upward, clearly surprised.

“No.”

“Well, damn.”  His fingers finally went lax, releasing her elbow to delicately dust along her jawline.  The clouds that swept in with her question about his wife were gone from his eyes again and they shone with… interest?  “All this time I’ve avoided asking about the man who was dumbass enough to let you go and there isn’t one.  Guess I shouldn’t be surprised that nobody is that stupid.”

No. 

His unintentionally appealing Cupid-bashing was one thing, but he could not touch and look at her that way.  He couldn’t flirt with her so sweetly.  Not today.  Not now, when she had to walk away for both their own good. 

Absolutely not. 

“Jon, don’t.”  Cassidy pulled away from the touch and he didn’t force it on her.  “On any other day I can keep all this shit in perspective and disregard your meanin’less flirtin’ without a second thought.  Considerin’ that it’s only nine-thirty in the mornin’ and this has already been one of the longest days of my life, that task becomes a little more challengin’, so please don’t.”

Biceps bulged and rippled as he crossed muscular arms and glowered.  “I’m well beyond the age of meaningless flirting, unless it’s directly attached to my paycheck.  If I say something you happen to find flattering or what-the-fuck-ever, that’s dumb luck on my part and a byproduct of simple honesty.”

Lord, why?  Why this man?  Why is he the one You sent to show me that solo isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?  Why not somebody I could actually have?  Huh?

“Alright.”  She mimicked his pose, deliberately crossing her arms and putting an end to this train of thought before she ended up on another flight of fancy.  “So be honest with me some more.  Why’d you stop choosin’ your wife?”

If there were simple clouds in his eyes a moment ago, the ones gathering there now carried rain – and maybe a little thunder.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Perfect.  That mulish response – or something like it – was exactly what Cassidy had anticipated.  It was also exactly what she needed to direct the conversation away from things that she found flattering, like his thinking that someone would be a fool to leave her.  She was trying to keep a respectable mental distance and if she had to push him into being a grump-butt to accomplish that mission, then so be it.

“As you wish.”  She uncrossed her arms and smiled pleasantly.  “What’s on deck for you today?  Buyin’ a football team?”

He lifted a wide palm to cover his Adam’s apple and fingers angled to touch upon morning stubble that hadn’t yet been shaved away as he contemplated.  The sun was now high enough above the Nashville buildings that it could find their window, and it bathed him in its glory while he tried to determine why she accepted his refusal so easily.

Adam’s apples, stubble, the man, the scene.  It was almost enough to take a girl’s breath away.

Well hell’s bells.  So much for keeping my distance.

That golden sun shower also allowed her to see every fine line and crease that came to rest on his face in the wake of wary confusion.  He couldn’t understand why she wasn’t pushing the issue about his wife but, fortunately for Cassidy, that lack of understanding wasn’t enough to entice him into his own round of pushing. 

“Phone calls,” he intoned, unaware and uncaring that he was a gorgeous display.  “Accountant, lawyer and all that shit.  Buying a team isn’t going to be as simple as writing a check.”

“I don’t expect it will,” was her demure agreement as her spine straightened with determination.  It was too damn bad that his desirability didn’t change their situation in the least.  “I guess I’ll go get my things.”

“We haven’t decided what you’re going to do yet.”

“Sure we have, baby doll.”  Cassidy quickly prayed for the strength to get through this.  “I’m gonna get out of here, buy some hair color, go the cabin, transform myself, dig up the gold, put it in the Jeep and head out.”

“No.”

“Yes,” she countered, stepping close enough to lightly run a hand over his cheek and let the soft whiskers prickle her palm.  It was just one more touch.  She was entitled to one more touch, wasn’t she?

“Wait until tomorrow.”  He didn’t ask and his words weren’t timid.  It was quite obviously a demand and she frowned up at him even as he qualified it with, “Give Dave today to find something and, in the meantime, we’ll finish talking about what will get your uncle off your back.”

Lord, this wasn’t hard enough as it stood?  He has to throw up objections, too?

Cassidy tried not to sigh with frustration, but a little one slipped out, anyway.  “Honey, do you know how easy it would be to find me by lookin’ for you?”

“They aren’t going to find either of us if we stay in all day.”

He was awful stinking cute when his chin jutted stubbornly and he flexed those once-again crossed arms, but logic didn’t find him as cute as she did.  It wouldn’t simply bend to his will because that’s what he wanted.

“Pretty sure the hotel knows you’re here,” she drawled, patting his cheek before taking a step back and turning toward the bedroom.  “And I’m bettin’ rock star confidentiality doesn’t extend to the police.”

“Then I’ll officially check out.  Dave will put the room in his name for me.”

Cassidy paused mid-way to the bedroom door.  Okay.  That was a little logic that didn’t need bending and she almost hated how much she wanted to cling to it.

It ain’t the logic you want to cling to, it’s him, so there’s no point in pretendin’ otherwise.  He’s offerin’ you one more day.  Live it as though it’s your last.

One ruby-red heel dug into the hotel carpet and she pivoted on it ever-so-slowly, sizing up the handsome fellow that was eyeing her with expectation.  The grin stealing over her lips was every bit as slow in its progression and Cassidy batted her eyelashes at the man who – for reasons still unbeknownst to her – wanted her to stick around. 

Yes, he’d said they still had things to talk about, but that hadn’t been the case the first morning he’d ordered her to come back.  Ever since that first day, she’d been dying to know why.

“I’ll stick my head in the sand like an ostrich and stay until tomorrow under one condition.”

As upturned as the corners of her mouth were, his turned down twice as fiercely and it amused Cassidy.   He obviously didn’t like a negotiation in which he wasn’t dictating the terms.

“What?” he bit out distrustfully.

“Brevity’s not sexy when you’re poutin’.  Now ask me nice.”

His snort was loud and rude.  “You’re pushin’ it.”

“Oh stop bein’ all macho,” she chuckled quietly, cheeks aching from the intensity of her smile.  “You want me to stay so you can get laid again and a man will do a lot of things for a little hoo-ha.  What I want isn’t even dust in the wind.” 

“What’s the condition?” he asked again, only a bit more nicely. 

That’s okay.  She would accept it, because she was a kind and generous soul. 

Sidling up to him, she coasted a hand up each bare bicep to the shoulders of his sleeveless tee.  Flirtatious fingers skated up his neck and into the back of his hair as she coaxed, “I wanna know why you keep wantin’ me around.  Tell me why my hoo-ha is so special."

His answer wasn’t immediate, but the bottomless blue eyes that were riveted to hers weren’t trying to come up with an answer.  They were chastising her for not knowing it.

“A pussy is pretty much just a pussy,” he finally admitted, curving his arms around her waist and settling them there.  “But yours is attached to a kind and beautiful woman who makes me feel better than I have in years. Why wouldn't I want you around?” 

Cassidy should have been elated at finally receiving her answer, but it had quite the opposite effect.  Her smile fell completely away, her stomach fell to her knees and her heart…  Well, it just hurt.

Lord, You’re killin’ me here, so I’m askin’ again.  Why?  Why is he the one?