How Cassie Got Her Grind Back(Divine Creek Ranch 23)(18)
Samson had called and left a couple of messages, confused as to why she’d walked away and trying to make amends, but she hadn’t called him back. First her father and grandfather, and then her husband, had always talked her around to their way of thinking because it was convenient for them. She was done with manipulative men telling her anything.
She tugged on her dress and bit her lip, wondering if Samson would approve of the more reserved attire she’d chosen for tonight—and then wanted to kick herself. Old habits died hard.
Hank cut in with the next dance. “You having a good time?” She nodded, and he said, “You should tell your pretty face then. Don’t let Dorene’s pettiness bother you. She’s jealous.”
“Jealous? What could I possibly have that she’d be jealous of?” The thirty extra pounds that had crept on a bit at a time over the decades sure wasn’t it.
Hank looked at her and exhaled slowly, and she had the distinct impression she was testing his patience for some reason. And he didn’t answer her question but asked another. “Why haven’t you talked to Samson?”
Because I’ve been depressed, and it wouldn’t matter what he said. I’m blaming my hormones. And he hurt my feelings, and I have a right to be pissed. In the end, she kept it simple. “I don’t wanna.”
“You should. He cares about you. They both do—”
“Not helping, Stinson,” a growly voice said from behind her. “May I cut in?”
Hank looked pleased with himself as he grinned and nodded, just in time for the song to change. Couples left the floor, and she felt more exposed as she looked up at Samson as Luke Bryan’s “Strip It Down” began playing. He looked so sexy in his jeans, cowboy boots, and white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and she imagined herself doing as the lyrics dictated, under his direction.
“Don’t talk. Just listen, okay?” Samson said as he took her right hand in his left and gently but firmly pulled her toward him. He was so solid, and he smelled so good. And then she realized he’d given her an edict. She opened her mouth to speak, and he stopped her.
With his lips.
She squeaked. Actually freaking squeaked. He kept the kiss chaste and short. She heard a giggle-snort and glanced to the right in time to see Grace and Jack sail past them on the dance floor. Cassie licked her lips and tasted a hint of mint with a tinge of whiskey. Had he fortified himself out in the parking lot before coming in? If she’d thought to bring a bottle, she sure would’ve.
“I’m sorry, Cassandra. Very sorry. I’ve had time to think about the wedding reception, what I said to you, and what I remember about the way you were raised. I apologize for speaking critically of your dress. I wasn’t criticizing you, honey. And I didn’t dislike the dress or how you looked in it. I disliked the way I felt as I noticed how many men were staring at you that night. Not noticing or observing you. Staring at you. One was even ogling. I know I didn’t have the right to be territorial. I still don’t. I understood when you didn’t return my calls that you had your reasons. But I’m here right now, telling you I’m sorry.”
His eyes were shadowed pools of blue, and she saw his sincerity in the slight furrowing of his brow as if he wasn’t sure she would forgive him the slight.
“You’re forgiven. And I apologize for the silent treatment. But just so you know, I had to talk myself into that dress for the wedding reception. I was already sensitive about it. And once I found out you were there, I was even more self-conscious. It wasn’t an easy thing to wear something so…”
“Seductive? Jessica Rabbit didn’t have nothin’ on you in that dress.”
Cassie laughed at his reference and said, “Jessica Rabbit? You’re exposing your age.”
He maneuvered her in a perfectly executed circle, and she recalled what a good dancer he’d always been. “I can’t help it. I’m getting old, and I’ll use whatever tools are available.”
She snorted at that ridiculous statement about his age. “You’re not getting old.” You’re mellowing just fine, handsome. “And you cut your hair since the last time I saw you.”
“It was time for a change. Like it?”
“I think it’s nice both ways. The long hair was striking but this new shorter style works well with your facial features. I like your beard, especially since you keep it neat and stylish.”
“Lotta gray in there, though,” he said with a chuckle.
“Not gray. Sexy silver, maybe.”
“If you say so. You forgive me?”