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He sauntered toward me, solidifying that we were on our way to answers.
Answers that I might not like, and nausea curdled in me as I gasped for air. After all this time, after all hope had fled, coming here like Rooney had suggested had ignited that dwindling ember in me. This idea that I might not have completely failed, that someone else’s hand might have influenced the events of these past six months had finally become an option.
But what if…?
“Goldie?” Cassidy’s gruff voice seemed quieter, more complex, holding a deeper meaning than the simple word he said.
I blinked and attempted to peel my eyes up from my boots. Like Velcro, they did not want to leave the reassuring sight of worn leather, in fear for what Cassidy’s gaze might hold. But it was the thought of his hazel eyes waiting for me that eventually gave me the strength to finally meet his tender stare.
“Hey there,” he whispered, his brows knitting together.
His chiseled face blurred as tears welled up in my eyes. I shouldn’t be crying, but everything was so overwhelming, an emotion that I wasn’t used to feeling, but I think it had been flooding my senses on overdrive these past few months. This single emotion had pushed me to avoid Cassidy for five days and he didn’t seem to hold a grudge against me for any of my confusing reactions to him.
“Cassidy,” I hesitantly began, my voice trembling.
“I’ve got you, okay?” He reached forward and brushed some dust from my cheek. That simple touch pulsed a singular wave of reassurance through me like the ocean crashing against a rocky shore.
And I mindlessly leaned against his calloused palm, silently asking him to leave it there. His eyes briefly widened, evidence of some surprise, and I couldn’t blame him. After my bewildering reaction to him kissing me on the drive, then avoiding him once we returned, this was the second time in the span of a couple of hours that I voluntarily sought out his touch.
“I need a distraction because if this doesn’t result in answers that will help…” That was all I managed to say, unable to speak out loud the fear that swirled like a raging storm within my mind.
He nodded once, a deep breath filling his chest, and then he spoke, “You know, it is Friday night. There’s a rodeo happening in the town over.”
I studied him, caught up in the orange light of a nearing sunset dancing off his tanned skin, swirling deepened shadows along his jawline. “I do like rodeos,” I quietly muttered.
His gentle smile widened. “Let’s go get cleaned up. I’ll drive the eighteen-wheeler if you wouldn’t mind following in my truck. Doc says Shawn is good if we leave the semi at his butcher shop.” Cassidy’s fingers slowly slid away from my skin, taking the warmth with him.
“Not bringing a big rig to a rodeo would definitely be smart in keeping a low profile on this,” I answered.
He nodded, tugging his hat lower on his head.
“Wait, you can drive an eighteen-wheeler?” I asked, suddenly realizing what he had just insinuated.
“Goldie, I can drive anything on wheels. If I don’t have to walk somewhere, you best believe I’m not.” He winked, a single dimple appearing on his cheek.
“I’m meaning you’re licensed to do so.” I shoved my hands on my hips. This entire time, I’d thought Rooney was going to be tagging along.
“I’ve had my CDL since I turned eighteen,” he snarkily replied.
“Fine, fine. Give me the keys to your truck.” I pursed my lips and stretched out my hand.
He raised a brow and tipped his head. “Who says you get it anymore after that attitude?” he growled. A low rumble danced in my core as he took a step closer, leaving a mere inch between us. Heat swamped me, his shadow laying over my entire figure. A stiff swallow slid down my throat as my eyes flickered to his lips.
It wasn’t a conscious choice, but I made no effort to peel my gaze away from the satin kiss so close to my own mouth.
Something cold and hard brushed against my palm.
Snapping me away from the very brief trance, Cassidy released a set of keys into my hand. “Don’t you dare get a scratch on it. The paint job is relatively new,” he cooly cautioned, then sauntered past me, purposefully brushing against my side as he did so.
Turning on my heel, I paused and watched him walk away. With each powerful step he took, his jeans bunched just right, just enough to highlight the muscling that I shouldn’t have known was there but did. My mind drifted back to his thighs wrapped around his horse, his hips moving as if he was part of the saddle itself, and a long, unintentional, audible sigh left my lips.
Cassidy immediately stumbled, nearly tripping over nothing, and my eyes widened.
He’d heard it. He knew I’d been staring; he had to have known, even if he hadn’t looked back at me. And I ripped my gaze away from his broad, powerful back. What is going on? Such obvious ogling was not like me. I needed to grit my teeth and go get ready for our date to the rodeo.
Wait, hold on. Was it a date? Had he just asked me on a date and I’d accepted?
No, I’d asked for a distraction and he’d provided. That was it. And I hated to admit that I was a little disappointed. Dragging my feet after Cassidy, I frowned. Though, it wouldn’t hurt to get a little done up even if it wasn’t a date. We were going somewhere in public, what would be the harm in maybe putting a bit of effort into looking nice? Especially since it was with Cassidy—even as a not-date date.
