He stroked her cheek as he shook his head. “I gave it to you, to keep you warm.”
She’d never felt so cared for, not in all the intervening years. The man who had consumed all those years came to mind, and she gave a sudden shake of her head.
“You okay? I didn’t mean to bring up unwelcome memories.” His gaze held nothing but concern, even though he frowned and released his hold on her a little bit.
She instantly missed his warmth.
“You didn’t. Like you said, it’s been a lot of years.”
He nodded, as if to himself, and his brows furrowed just a bit before the expression smoothed out and became unreadable. Did I ruin the moment? Could he tell I was thinking of Bill? She’d missed Samson all those years, and she hated to think she’d fumbled the moment. What if he pulled back because he’s noticing all the changes in me now that he’s up close? Is he missing the smaller version of myself I used to be? There was no judging by his expression.
“Ivan surprised me when he sent me a friend request on Facebook. Things got busy, so I didn’t have a chance to look over his profile, though. What’s he doing these days?”
“He’s executive chef at Hermione in Morehead.”
Her brows shot up. “In Morehead? And he never got in touch!” She missed a step in the dance, and he caught her before she slipped. “If I’d known he was so close, I would’ve visited him—and you—for that matter.”
His hand slid down her back, the caress drawing her gaze to his serious blue eyes. “We didn’t think you still lived here. After everything had happened, and after we…talked about what the future held, I assumed you were in New York or LA or in Europe. You had a gift.”
She shook her head, pained by the disappointment in his eyes. “I never left Divine. I said I was sorry, Samson,” she added, embarrassed by the way her voice cracked a little.
As it had turned out, the only time she’d ever played an instrument was to either soothe or entertain her kids when they were itty bitty, by playing her guitar and singing for them. Once they’d learned to walk and then started school, she’d been too busy to get it out and play or to attempt to write any songs. The guitar had gathered dust in her closet during the years that had raced by.
“I’m the one who’s sorry, Cassandra. You have nothing to apologize for.” He let out a sigh. “I keep putting my foot in my mouth and making you uncomfortable. Let’s talk about something safer. I understand you have grown kids.”
She nodded. “Tamara and Joseph.” They were the lights of her life and her biggest accomplishments next to owning and operating Divine Drip.
“Joseph?” he asked with a grin, and she smiled back.
“Yes, small world.”
She spent the next minute or two telling him all about them and what they were currently doing before veering to other subjects, such as his career as a military police officer in the Army. Even in civilian life, his career choice had involved law enforcement, as an officer for the Morehead PD before being injured in the line of duty and taking on the role of emergency dispatcher in Morehead.
“I can’t believe you were so close all that time and never came to see me.”
He gently squeezed her hand. “I doubt your husband would’ve appreciated me showing up on your doorstep for a visit, Cassandra.”
“My marriage ended a few years ago. I don’t mind if you call me Cassie. Everyone does.”
He gave his head a definite shake. “To me you will always be Cassandra.”
Suddenly brave, she said, “Remember what else you called me? Usually when you wanted your way.”
“Chiquita. I didn’t forget. Although…”
“What?” she inquired softly.
“I lost the right to call you that, or gave up the right, when we left.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say he hadn’t lost the right, but she didn’t want him to think she was coming on to him. Some ingrained patterns never died. She looked up at him.
As if searching for something to say, he stroked the strap of her red dress. “Did Bunny want all of you to dress like bridesmaids?”
She shook her head, not sure what he was getting at, but the discomfited feeling returned. Bunny and Grace had sworn the style fit her well, and she liked the bright red color.
“No. We wanted to buy dresses in the same color because we thought she’d like it. Do you not like my dress?”
“I do, but—”
“But what?” One of his dark eyebrows arched momentarily at her interruption, and she arched both of hers in response. “What is it? Do I have something on it? Oh gosh, did I sit in something?” She looked behind her, worried she’d embarrassed herself.