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The world spun around me, dizzy from the rapid movements that I took to reach her, but I ignored it. “I’m sorry, Goldie, I should’ve waited to ask,” I whispered against her head and buried my face in her hair.
“Why do you have to go and do this?” she mumbled against my chest.
“Do…Do what?” I hesitantly asked.
“I should hate you. I shouldn’t want to be comforted by you, but I can’t help it. I can’t help the fact that no matter how hard I try, I seek you out when I’m feeling upset. Those five days where we barely talked sucked, even though it was my choice to push you away and shut you out.” Her sobs increased, and her body trembled against mine.
“I’m sorry?” I replied, more as a question than anything else, and she manically chuckled between her cries.
“I don’t like you.” She slid a hand out from against my chest and lightly slugged me against my arm. “And I don’t want to meet my mom. I feel like I’ve hardly had any say in my life, in what has happened since coming here, but this, I do have a choice in.”
My entire body stiffened, tightening around her thin frame. “You sure that’s what you want?”
She nodded against my chest, not moving away from my body as she pulled her arm back between us. “She abandoned my dad and I. The people that care, that are worth my time are around, so yes, I don’t want to see her.”
Pressing my lips against the top of her head, soaking in the silky feel of her beautiful hair she’d braided back once again, I nodded slowly. “Whatever you need, Goldie,” I whispered, and her fingers suddenly fisted the front of my shirt.
“Lunch first, then let’s move Sundance,” she quickly said.
“Sandwiches sound perfect.” Cupping her cheeks that were soft against my calloused hands, I gently pried her away from my chest and placed my lips against her forehead. She didn’t open her eyes and didn’t pull away from the kiss.
Warm and tender, I prayed that her heart would somehow eventually mend.
Chapter 24
CASSIDY
Denial.
That was where her head seemed to be as she put the last bite of sandwich in her mouth. Denying how devastating the news was, or denying how much pain she was in, that was the only explanation I had for her over-the-top giggling and flirting.
Part of me didn’t mind because, well, her hands were all over me, but at the same time, it didn’t quite feel right. Leaning back in my chair, I grinned at her, not letting on that I could see the stormy anguish behind her gaze. Silence draped upon us like a gentle blanket warmed in the dryer.
Tell me, I silently begged. I wanted her to tell me how she felt about me, wanted to pretend just as she was that a bomb hadn’t been dropped in her lap. But this wasn’t the time.
“Stop,” she muttered, her cheeks blooming bright red.
“Stop what?” I asked, feigning innocence. This darn concussion certainly had put a damper on my ability to regulate my expressions and keep any emotion that wasn’t cool, calm, and collected at bay.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“I’m just lookin’ Goldie,” I whispered.
Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth, and she pulled her gaze away from me. “I’m not trying to pretend like this news about my mom doesn’t hurt, Cassidy,” she mumbled.
“That ain’t why I’m lookin’, but you sure?” I tenderly asked.
A slow nod rocked her head up and down. “Then why are you looking?” She brought her eyes back toward me, not really answering my question, but if she didn’t want to discuss it right now, then okay.
“Just don’t want to forget.”
“Forget what?”
“What you look like sitting right here at my table.”
Her brows knitted together, and she turned to face me entirely. “What’s so fancy about how I look right now?”
“Nuthin’.” I smiled gently. “And everything.”
