After getting ready, I go to the living room and then the kitchen. I realize I’m holding my breath in anticipation and let it out in a long, steady breath. Because I don’t know what else to do, I prepare the turkey and put it in the oven for dinner later. When I hear a cracking noise outside, I go to the window and look. Gavin is standing there, an ax over his head before he smashes it down to break the wood. Over and over, he does the same movements, and I just stand here and watch him. His face seems locked in a permanent scowl as he wipes the sweat from his brow.
My stomach starts to turn, and I’m wondering if he’s regretting last night. I guess there’s only one way to find out. I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator, put my shoes and jacket on, and walk outside.
He sees me. I know he does. But he doesn’t stop working. My heart seems to drop in my chest, but I keep moving until I’m standing next to him.
“Hey!” I say when he briefly looks up at me.
“Hey,” he says and brings the ax down on another piece of wood.
I feel like a fool to keep holding out the bottle of water and him not taking it, so I finally set it down against a rock. When I look at him again, he’s staring at me, but quickly averts his eyes. “You okay?” I ask.
He nods his head. “You okay?”
I just shrug my shoulders because honestly I feel like my heart is breaking in two.
He winces and swings on another piece of wood with more force, a grunt filling the air between us.
So this is it. I wondered even last night if he would regret it all this morning. I hoped not, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. I stand and watch him, committing it all to memory. The way his hair lies over his brow, the stubble of his chin, the dark blue of his eyes that seem darker than they did yesterday. The way he moves and the way his muscles flex. Watching him reminds me of last night in his arms, and I try to hold on to those feelings too. I don’t want to forget a thing.
“Well, I guess I’ll go in,” I tell him, again hoping that he’s going to say something.
When he doesn’t, I turn and walk slowly toward the house. As I get to the door, I turn and look at him one more time. He’s standing, leaning on the ax, not saying anything, just watching me.
I walk in the door, go to the guest bedroom, and slam the door before sliding to the floor. Sobs wrack through my body, but I have no choice but to let it all out. My hopes of there being something between us is gone now. He can barely look at me.
I stand up and go to pack my things. I wash my face to try to calm myself down. I have to leave now. I don’t have a choice.
10
Gavin
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” I ask her as I come back into the house. She’s wheeling her suitcase through the living room, and I have to run to get between her and the front door.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I’m leaving.”
She moves to walk around me, but I slide in front of her. I put my hands up, but she jerks herself away from me. “Please, Gavin. I’m barely holding on as it is. Don’t make it worse.”
I cross my hands over my chest. I want to pick her up and carry her to the bedroom and show her exactly why she can’t leave. But she looks like she’s about to start crying, and I have no experience with crying women. I hold my hands up. “Fine. You want to leave, I’ll let you leave. But give me five minutes. Please,” I beg of her.
She looks between the door and then back at me before she sniffles and finally nods her head.
I gesture to the couch and have her sit down. I sit beside her. “I’m sorry for last night. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She juts her chin out. “You can be as sorry as you want to, Gavin. I don’t regret it. Not a second of it.”
I hang my head, remembering the way that I gripped on to her waist. I’m sure she has bruises. And the way I took her too many times, sometimes roughly. “Well, I do. If I could go back and do things differently, I would.”
She draws back from me, pain etched on her face. “Noted. Can I go now?”
“Dammit, Cassie, talk to me. I’m sorry for being too rough. I’m sorry if I hurt you.” I get off the couch and start to pace the room. “I wouldn’t hurt you for anything.”
I don’t know how long I pace back and forth before she gets up and stands in front of me. “What exactly do you regret, Gavin?”
“Fuck, where do I start?” I look into her hazel eyes, which are red-rimmed, and it guts me to know that I’m the one that made her cry. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. I knew you were sore, but I took you anyway. And now that you’re leaving me, I regret not holding you in my arms longer this morning.”
Her hands slide up my chest, and I gasp at the contact. “Why, Gavin? Why didn’t you stay in bed with me this morning?”
My head falls, and I rest it on her forehead. Filled with shame, I admit to her, “Because I wanted you again, and I couldn’t hold you without being inside you. I’m a fuckin’ soldier. I’m disciplined. But you’re an addiction, Cassie.”
I wrap my arms around the back of her neck, fighting the urge to kiss her.
She tilts her head to the side. “So you don’t regret sleeping with me?”
I am taken back. “Is that what you thought?”
She nods her head sadly.
“It’s not that. It was never that. I love you, Cassie. I think I always have. Every time we made love last night, I was hoping that I made you pregnant. I knew I couldn’t have you again, so I had to force myself to get out of bed this morning. I know I’m too old for you, and I’m a gruff bastard most of the time, but I want you in my life. I’d do anything to keep you.”
Cassie
“Anything?” I ask him.
He puts his lips to mine gently. “Anything.”
I run my hand across his cheek, my thumb across his lower lip. His breath is heavy and nostrils flared—there’s no denying that he does in fact still want me.
I take a step back, and he reluctantly lets me go. I start to undress, and with each piece of clothing I discard, I tell him, “I love you, too, Gavin Dawson. I don’t want to leave you. I’d give anything to stay here with you.”
“You can. I hope you will,” he says in a heartfelt tone.
“Okay,” I tell him. Of course, I have a job that I just can’t quit, but all that can be worked out. “So what I want is you inside me. Right now.”
He shakes his head. “Cassie…”
“No, that’s what I want. I’m fine, and after all the emotions I’ve felt this morning, I need you, please.”
He walks toward me with big heavy footsteps. The look in his eyes has my stomach doing somersaults. When I kick off the last piece of clothing, I turn around and bend over the couch. “I’m ready.”
His hands slide across my ass. He kicks my legs apart and doesn’t waste any time pulling his cock out of his pants. He slides into me, and a long, low groan leaves me. He fills me up, his hands on my waist as he moves in and out of me. “Yes,” I moan.