Working Stiff(106)
Under her fingers, gnarled skin marred Cash’s cheek like wood knots growing under his skin in an area just below his cheekbone.
Even though she had felt it, seeing the damage on what had been perfection was shocking, like seeing someone slash a painting in a museum. “Oh, Cash.”
His voice was quiet as he asked, “Are you going to leave?”
She glanced at the window. Scarlet light trickled though the blinds. “It’s five in the morning.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
She looked at him, startled. His green eyes almost glowed with the red light staining his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He was watching her eyes very closely. “I mean, me. Are you going to leave me?”
Good Lord.
Heat flashed on her skin. “Do you actually mean, would I break up with you because you have a silly ol’ scar on your face?”
Cash still didn’t say anything. He just watched her, his emerald eyes wary in the brightening sunlight.
Righteous country anger began to simmer in her blood. “Are you saying that you think that I am so damn shallow that I would see a little scar on your face and take off for the hills?”
Confusion creased the skin between his eyebrows, and his lips opened.
Her voice hardened as the anger boiled up. “Casimir Friso van Amsberg, I have never been so insulted in all my life!”
His eyes widened. “I did not—”
She yanked her hands out of his and held them up by her shoulders, fingers splayed to strangle him. “You think that I am so damn superficial that I would give a fig—no, that I would give a nit on a gnat’s ass—about that little pucker on your face and that I would walk out on you, that I would take my cats and depart as if you were a leper or an atrocity.”
He sputtered, “That’s not what I—”
“That is entirely what you meant and you know it. You have a lot to learn about me, Casimir Friso van Amsberg. I am not some fragile, inbred, hairless mutant cat who would keel over at the sight of blood or a bit of scar tissue. That is ridiculous.”
The corners of his mouth rose just a little, and he turned his chin to look at her out of the corners of his eyes. “I’ll have to make you angry more often.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea at all, Casimir. I will whup your effete Euro butt if you say something like that to me ever again.”
His smile curved more. “I like it when you say my name.”
“I say your name all the time. I’ve yelled it across the office and screamed it at the ceiling once or twice, too.”
“Casimir. You’re calling me Casimir.”
“That’s right. I am angry enough to call you by your full and legal name. You had best beware.”
He blinked, looking at her face. “I like it when you call me Casimir.”
“Well, that’s neither here nor there. I am so irritated with you that I could spit.”
He stroked her arm, his smile warming. “If all this has persuaded you to call me Casimir instead of Cash, then it was worth it.”
“I declare, I will go get a horsewhip if you do not stop provoking me.”
“You do have a temper, don’t you, lieveke?”
“Oh, you have no idea. Once I get riled up, I stay riled up. Watch out when I go biblical, and let me assure you, I am nearly there.”
He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his whole body against hers. The heat from his flesh warmed her long tee shirt and her skin underneath, and he kissed the tender spot where her neck met her shoulder. “I won’t bring it up again.”
“That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said all morning.”
He chuckled against her skin and held her more closely. “I want you to come to Amsterdam with me next weekend.”
So this was it, the start of the whirlwind-travel phase of their relationship, where they jetted off to Europe for no good reason.
At least it meant that he wasn’t ghosting on her just yet.
She asked, “Why Amsterdam?”
“There are some people whom I want you to meet.”
“Your sister, Ana?”
“Among others.”
“It would be nice to meet her.” Ana had known to send Maxence and Arthur, the perfect foils for Cash’s downward spiral. Rox should thank her and tell her that it had worked.
Maybe she should bake Ana some brownies or something.
“She’ll love you,” Cash whispered.
“She seems nice. I’m sure I’ll just love her, too.”
Cash rested his forehead on the side of her head, his lips near her ear, and he whispered, “I love you.”
Rox’s throat collapsed. She couldn’t speak or breathe.