Catching Cassidy Page 24

  “But you said you liked accounting.”

  “Yeah, because I didn’t ever have anything to compare it to.”

  “But I asked you a million times if you liked your major.”

  She nods and her eyes dampen. “All those times, Wyatt, I must have been trying to convince myself, because I don’t enjoy it. And do you want to know the worst part of it all?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “I thought if I did all those things, they’d spend more time with me or love me more or—”

  I pull her into my arms and hold her as she cries. “Babe, they love you.” Even as I say the words, I know her parents have never taken care of her the way they should have, like ours did. They are absentee parents at best and neglectful at worst.

  She wipes her eyes. “That’s why I have to make this decision about my job separate from everyone else. I need to figure out if I love it here so much because of you or because of Harborside, and if I love my work because it’s not accounting or because I really love what I’m doing. I won’t make this decision based on us, Wyatt. I can’t do it, and I know you said you don’t want me to, so we’re on the same page. It would be like putting my fate in another person’s hands. I never want anyone having that power over me again.”

  “Wow, Cass.” I let go of her to give us both some space. “I don’t want power over your life. I just want to be in it.”

  She smiles, then drops her eyes. I can see this is as hard for her as it is for me.

  “Tell me what I can do to help you with this.”

  “This is going to sound horrible, but just stay out of it. Completely. That’s the only way I can make this decision free and clear of us.”

  Her words pierce my heart, even though I understand where she’s coming from. I never imagined that words could hurt so much, but I don’t want her to see the way they slay me. That would only make her feel guilty, even though she hasn’t said one thing about wanting the job or going to New York. I can’t figure out why she’s even considering it if she doesn’t like accounting, but I respect her need to make the decision on her own.

  “Okay. When you’re ready to tell me your decision, I’m here. And you know I support anything you want to do.”

  Her eyes soften, and she cuddles up against me again. “I know,” she says just above a whisper, like she’s a balloon and all of her air deflated. “I’m sorry, Wy. I didn’t even realize I felt all of those things, but I do. I really, really do.”

  “Today has definitely been a day of revelations for both of us. I get it. You said you didn’t want anyone having power over you again, and I hope you know that while I may be a little jealous when it comes to you and other guys, I’m not a control freak.”

  “Of course I know that. And…you have been jealous over me and guys forever.” She giggles, and I give her a questioning look. “Come on. You know you found fault in every guy who ever asked me out. Why do you think I didn’t go out with most of them?”

  “I did not.” Did I?

  “Jon Delleux, eighth grade. Terry Crom, ninth grade. Oh, and let’s not forget Clay Morton, when I was a senior. Do you want me to continue?”

  “Jesus. They were all douche bags.”

  Her eyes widen. “They were not. Clay was a linebacker on the football team. You said he was cool until he asked me out, and then you changed your tune.”

  I tackle her beneath me, and she laughs and struggles to get free. I pin her to the sand with my body weight. “Okay, so I’m jealous. I can’t help it. Maybe I was in love with you then and I just hadn’t figured it out yet.”

  She leans up and nips at my chin. “Why do you think I never went on the dates?”

  “You told me it was because you didn’t want to.”

  “No, silly. It was because they weren’t you. I guess I accepted I’d never have you.”

  Finally, my beautiful girl is wrong about something. I seal my lips over hers and wrap my arms around her, kissing her until our hips are grinding together and we’re swallowing each other’s moans of pleasure. When our lips part, I gaze into her eyes and trace her cheek with my finger.

  “You didn’t really like me like that back then, did you? I never got that vibe from you.” I wish I had.

  She rolls her eyes. Aw, man. I touch my forehead to hers.

  “Babe, I had no idea. And you never said a word about the girls I hooked up with. God, Cassidy. Most girls would have given me all sorts of shit or called the girls whores.”

  “I’m not most girls,” she whispered.

  “No, you’re not.” As I gaze into her eyes I know it’s more than her just not being like most girls. Her parents really did a job on her, and I never realized how their lack of love had affected her until just now. Did they make her repress her feelings for everything in life, or just people?

  “Tell me why you never said anything.”

  She swallows hard. “At first it was just because I figured you were so popular and so cute, you’d never want someone like me.”

  “You mean I wouldn’t want the prettiest girl in school?”

  “I was not. Anyway…”

  I cup her cheek against my palm. “You were. You always were, Cassidy, but you were also my best friend. So I never looked at you like that.”

  She blushes and looks even more beautiful.

  “I was so stupid.” I smile, and she laughs.

  “And in college…”

  There’s a hint of mischief in her eyes. “In college…”

  “I, um. On some level I wanted to be all those girls you hooked up with, but I didn’t know how to tell you or if you’d reciprocate, or anything. So I basically spent years trying to ignore that I felt that way, and most of the time it was such a habit to push away the thoughts that I didn’t even know I was doing it.”

  “You know what I think? I think you were so busy trying to do the right thing that you wouldn’t have let yourself chance the wrong thing.” I pause, because reality creeps in and I don’t like it. “And I probably—no, I definitely—would have been the wrong thing.”

  Her lips curl downward into a frown. “Why?”

  “Because I was too wrapped up in me. It took Kyle, or Kyle and my parents dying, to pull me from my selfish place and see what was really going on around me, Cass. I think we’re together now for a reason. As wrong and chaotic a time as this is, it’s the right time for us.”

  “And what if I go to New York? Will it still be the right time for us?”

  I smile, because as much as I know it will kill me if she leaves, I don’t think anything could ever really tear us apart.

  “There will never be a time that isn’t right for us.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  ~Wyatt~

  CASSIDY MOVED INTO my bedroom the night after we made love for the first time, and I can’t believe that it’s been only four days since she moved in. I’m already used to waking up with her in my arms and falling asleep with her body nestled against mine. I really don’t want her to go to New York, but I’m doing as she asked and not saying a word about it. Last night we had a bonfire on the beach and she took loads of pictures. She’s so happy when she’s got the camera in her hands. I hope if she does go to New York she makes time for that, too. She sang several songs while Brandon played the guitar, and I heard Tristan tell her that if she moved to New York he’d never hear her beautiful voice and that he’d miss her. I was hoping she’d give some indication of what she was thinking, but she just smiled and told him that if she went, she’d still visit and sing for him. She’s obviously still considering the move.

  She’s working with Brooke today, and a few minutes ago she texted to say that another lady asked her and Brooke to coordinate an event. She sounded pretty excited in the text, considering she added three exclamation points. It’s hard not to get my hopes up about her staying. I try to keep my mind busy with other things. I can’t completely erase Tim from my thoughts. I wonder how he’s doing and what he’ll do if he gets clean. I know my father woul
d have had no reason to talk to me about the stuff with Tim, but I wish I’d had some warning.

  Jesse’s back, but he’s pretty busy overseeing the renovations of his restaurant, so he stops in and touches base when he can, which is fine. That’s how it should be, I guess. It’s strange how I went from being a college kid with no responsibilities to a guy who owns a bar, two houses, two cars, and is head over heels in love. I’m not complaining—well, except about losing my parents. That part sucks big-time. I miss them, and there are times when I expect a text to come through from my dad or when we’re sitting on the deck of the house and I expect him to crack a very dry joke. But as each week passes, the hurt becomes less of a gaping wound and more like a paper cut—ever present but not life stopping.

  It’s late afternoon and Jesse, Delilah, and I are sitting at a table in the bar. Tristan is bartending, and Livi’s waiting tables. Cassidy taught me how to use QuickBooks, and I’ve been putting together a filing system that is organized and easy to navigate as we move forward. Jesse has already reviewed the schedules Delilah made, and now the elephant in the room needs to be dealt with—filling Tim’s position. I know we’re all thinking about it, because Delilah keeps stealing looks at me and Jesse isn’t looking at me.

  Delilah gets a text, and when she reads it, she smiles. She responds and sets her phone on the table. “How late do you think we’ll be?”

  She dealt with Tim’s gambling well enough. She was shocked and angry, but after a few hours she and I were making plans about what needs to be done now that he’s gone for good. She hasn’t wanted to talk about our parents much, but I know when she’s ready, she will, and I know she’s planning on meeting Ashley on the boardwalk tonight. That friendship seems to mean a lot to her, too, and I’m glad Ashley’s filled whatever emptiness Delilah feels.

  “I’ll stay, Dee. You can go.”

  “You sure you don’t mind? I want to run home and shower before I meet Ash.”

  “Jesse?”

  He looks up from the report. “Sure. We’re cool. You’ve got a handle on the inventory and deliveries, and your schedules are meticulous. Even your backup schedules are great, Delilah. I want to talk about Tim, but Wyatt can fill you in later.”

  “Great. Thanks.” She heads to the back room.

  Once we’re alone I fill Jesse in on what I’m thinking. “We need to hire a bookkeeper, but I don’t want to do it yet.”

  “Why not?” Jesse sets down the reports and crosses his arms.

  “I want to rework the filing system and make sure every step of our accounting system is transparent. Then I think we can get away with hiring a part-time accountant. We don’t have that many monthly transactions, and they come on a consistent schedule. We’ll need more hours at month’s end, but I want to keep my eyes on the reports on a weekly basis so we don’t fall behind again. I also want to hire an outside accounting firm to audit every six months. We have the money, and it’s a good safety net. I’m not sure why my parents never arranged for it.”

  “Your mom was pretty good about handling those things.”

  “Except when she was too busy. I want to do this right.” From what I can tell, my mother kept good tabs on the books most of the time. She obviously trusted Tim, but I guess she’d been busy with other things the last few months before she died, and that’s when Tim fell over the edge and began embezzling. I have no way of knowing if my father told my mother about Tim, but I assume he did. I guess there are some things I’ll never fully understand, but in the grand scheme of what we’ve been through this summer, if she knew or not, what she thought about it, or how she planned to handle it, all seem like small potatoes. I can’t change the past. I can only deal with what’s happening now and try to safeguard us from the same kind of thing in the future.

  Jesse leans on the table. “And what about the money Tim took?”

  I shrug. “I’m not pressing charges, and I told him to stay away from the bar and from me and Delilah. Let’s see how he does with rehab and if he pulls himself together. I’m inclined to write off that money. Assuming he cleans up his act, I don’t want him to start off with one foot in the hole. He’s already going to have to find a new career. It’s not like I can recommend him for an accounting position after what he’s done.”

  “Your dad was a hard ass for rules, but he had a soft spot for those he loved. I have a feeling you’re a softy like your dad.” Jesse smiles.

  His words warm me. I’d like to think I’m something like my father. At least the good parts of him. “I’m a realist. Tim fucked up, but hey, I did, too. I could have been thrown in jail for beating up Kyle or the other guy. Sometimes good people do bad things.” I shrug as he nods. “Jesse, I probably never thanked you the way I should have. You protected me from being arrested. Thank you. I think my father’s soft side rubbed off on you, too.”

  “Luckily, a lot of your father rubbed off on both of us. He was a good man.”

  “I know. Thanks.”

  “You know, Wyatt, you can lean on me anytime. No one expects you to deal with all this stuff on your own right now.”

  People who don’t know Jesse tend to give him a once-over because of his biker image. This is understandable, because most people don’t wear jeans, boots, leather, and chains around the beach, but as I meet his empathetic dark eyes, I can’t help but think how his image and his sentiments are like a square peg going into a round hole. Then again, maybe we’re all square pegs just trying to fit into round holes.

  I smile, knowing Jesse is sincere and not caring if he looks like a biker or a baker. I’m just thankful he’s in our lives.

  “My father would have, and it’s not even about that anymore. I want to do this. I want to be part of something he built and believed in. It makes me feel like I didn’t lose them for nothing. I know he’d be proud of me and Dee.”

  “Okay, let’s do it. Let me know what I can do to help. I’m going to be pretty busy with the restaurant renovations, but I’ll still be around if you need me.”

  “Just let me know if I do anything that seems way off base. I’m sure there are things that I don’t realize I don’t know, and that’s the trouble zone.”

  Jesse pats my shoulder. “Your father had nothing but confidence in you, and I can see why. There’s nothing you can’t do.”

  ~Cassidy~

  WHEN I GET off work I walk down to the Taproom to see Wyatt. He’s been so good about not asking me about New York. So much is happening so fast that it’s exciting and scary at once. Brooke and I have been going over budgets and schedules and trying to figure out if we can really pull off an event-planning business along with the café. The idea of doing more photography is really exciting to me, and I find myself daydreaming about it. Brooke obviously needs the help at the café, and I love working with her. We make a great team, but I’m not sure I’d want to work in a café my whole life, and I am trying to be smart about the decision. I need to have a long-term plan. My father always says that the only way to succeed in life is to plan. I’m trying, but the more I think about leaving Harborside, the more I don’t want to, and the more I want to stay in Harborside, the less I want to plan. Maybe I’ve been planning for way too long and it’s time to live on the edge a little.

  I try to imagine not having the next step in my life planned out. What would it be like to just be content being with Wyatt, working, and enjoying life a little without a corporate ladder to navigate and plan for?

  The idea is tantalizing.

  Wyatt and I have breakfast on the deck most mornings. I’ve taken so many beautiful pictures of the sunrise, and it always leaves me wanting more, just like Wyatt does. I can’t get enough of him. I love our walks on the beach, and I am happier than I’ve ever been. And with Tristan living with us and Brandon sort of living with us, it’s like we have our own little family. A family of friends who really care about one another. Everyone helps with keeping the house clean, and when Wyatt’s working late, I hang out with Tristan or we go listen to
Brandon’s band.

  Sometimes I sit on the deck, trying to figure out my life, and I wonder if I really need to figure it out. I’m finally working at a job I really want, and I’m in love with the man I’ve adored for years—and can finally admit it to myself and out loud. It’s so freeing, allowing myself to act on feelings I’ve repressed for so long.

  I fill my lungs with the crisp evening air. When I reach the pier I turn toward the ocean and smile as the breeze stings my face. I love that feeling, and I know if I go to New York it’ll be ages before I feel it again. Ugh. I hate thinking about it, and I’m not even sure I want to keep considering that job, but I feel like I should.

  I continue walking toward the sound of music coming from the bar, remembering that night when the guy wouldn’t stop kissing me and the way Wyatt rescued me. I’d like to believe that I don’t need rescuing, but I think there are times in all of our lives when we do need to be rescued. Wyatt and Delilah needed rescuing that night they climbed into my bed when their parents were killed, and on some level, I think Wyatt needed rescuing from his own internal torture. He had convinced himself that loving me was too risky, and I think he might have stayed in that lonely place for a long time, just like I would have. But my heart has belonged to Wyatt for too many years to allow that. I don’t think I would have let anyone into it the way I let Wyatt.

  A few minutes later I walk into the Taproom and see Wyatt standing behind the bar, talking with a blond girl who’s wearing the tiniest miniskirt I’ve ever seen. “Babe!” he calls when he sees me, and waves me over.

  My heart skips a beat every time I hear him call me Babe, and to hear him say it when there’s a hot girl standing in front of him makes me feel even better. I trust Wyatt, and I know that’s weird, since he hasn’t ever had a long-term girlfriend before, but he’s been the most loyal friend to me for seventeen years. That speaks volumes about his character in my book.

  When I reach the bar, Wyatt leans across it and kisses me. “Cassidy, this is Samantha. She runs a bridal shop in town, and she said Brooke sent her here to find you. I was just giving her your cell number.”