Shoulda Been a Cowboy. Maisey Yates
her real, physical.
He shook his head. What was it about her? What was it about here?
He grabbed the bottle opener off of the fridge and popped the top on his beer. Taking a sip, he turned to look out the window. His view was of Old Town’s main street. Painted clapboard buildings, with red brick interspersed. An American flag rising up above City Hall. And beyond that was the ocean. Without seeing it he could still picture the coastline. Evergreen trees, yellow bursts of Scotch Broom, and weedy blades of grass with edges sharp enough to cut into your skin.
Across the street, behind the apartment building he was currently residing in, was a long stretch of winding highway, forest, and ranches. Yeah, he knew all of that, could picture it all without having to look.
Copper Ridge hadn’t changed, but he had. He wasn’t the same Jake Caldwell he’d been.
He wasn’t a juvenile delinquent who couldn’t do a damn thing right to save his life. Hell no. He managed a successful business in a very competitive environment. His boss trusted him, and he had done everything he could to earn that trust.
Unlike his old man, his boss actually believed he could do things right.
Which made him wonder yet again why he was here and not back in Seattle in the mechanic shop.
He sighed heavily. That was all because of John too. The older man, who was, unquestionably, a mentor to Jake, had told him he had to come back and handle his family affairs himself. He’d said that was what a man did.
So he was here, handling his family affairs like a man.
And there would be no handling of pretty female tenants while he was at it. So his body was just gonna have to calm down.
He had a feeling this was going to be a long couple of months.
WHEN CASSIE FINALLY made her way back up to her apartment she was exhausted. She also had no fewer than three missed calls from her mother. She kept her phone on vibrate during the workday, which probably gave her mom fits. But then, her mom was the main reason she kept it on vibrate.
Work hours seemed to mean nothing to the woman.
Cassie was about to call her mother back when the phone started to shiver in her hand, the screen lighting up and her mother’s picture appearing on it.
Cassie groaned and hit “accept.”
“Hello?”
“Cassie, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day.”
“Yeah, Mom, I’ve been working all day.”
“Did you just get home?” The note of worry in her mother’s voice did not inspire any warm fuzzy feelings in Cassie. Not at this point. Not considering Cassie lived directly above her workplace. Her commute was a staircase. “It’s late, Cassie.”
“I know, Mom. But such is the hazard of running your own business. Anyway, I walked back up to the apartment using the interior stairs. Nothing is going to happen to me between work and home.”
“But you work too much. How in the world are you supposed to meet anyone when you’re working all the time?”
Ahhh, and here we came to the bottom of mama Ventimiglia’s worry. Not so much for Cassie’s safety, but for her singledom.
The guilts would come next. They were her mother’s specialty. A single mom, she’d always been hyper invested in keeping her daughter from making the same mistakes she had.
The biggest mistake being getting pregnant without securing a man. Cassie was always thrilled to be numbered as one of her mother’s mistakes, even if the other woman didn’t really mean it that way.
“You know, Mom, I serve people coffee all day. I talk to people all day. I meet new people every day.”
“But I bet you’re going to tell me you can’t date a customer.”
Cassie sighed heavily. “You never know. Never say never. Never assume windows are locked when doors are closed, or something like that.” What she really wanted to say was absolutely no, never, no. But she knew that would only keep her mother on the phone longer. And it wasn’t like she didn’t enjoy talking to her, sometimes. Her mom was nothing if not well-meaning, but when it came to the topic of Cassie’s love life, or lack thereof, Cassie would rather she left well enough alone.
“I worry about you. I don’t want you to end up like I did.”
Alone. With nothing but a daughter and no man. “I know. But I’m fine. I really am. I’m happy.”
“I don’t see how you can be happy, losing Allen like you did.”
Cassie fought the urge to scream and hurl the phone across the room. “I don’t feel like I lost much of anything divorcing him. He was a dud. Better to have no potato chips than broken potato chips, or something.”
“It’s still a potato chip, Cassie.”
Cassie sighed. Hoisted by her own bad analogy. “Right. Well, I’m on a diet.”
“Do you still have the meals I sent for you in the freezer?”
“Yes, I do. I’ll have one of those, thank you.”
“I only say these things because I worry. Because I love you.”
“I know.” Cassie sighed again, heavily. “I love you too. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Talk to you tomorrow.”
Cassie disconnected the call and flipped it from her hand onto the couch, walking through the open floor plan living room and into the kitchen to rummage around for dinner. There was meatloaf in the freezer. Along with frozen mashed potatoes all portioned up for her already, and cooked with love by her mother. So yeah, she could be a bit overbearing, but there were some things Cassie really couldn’t complain about.
She put the plastic container in the microwave and started it, then wandered over to the couch and flopped down. The couch butted up against the connecting wall to Jake’s apartment. She heard a squeaking noise, then the sound of running water and realized it was the shower. She and Jake must typically run on different schedules, because she hadn’t heard his shower noises before.
She’d never lived in this place while someone else lived in the adjacent one. It had originally been open space, and at one point in time, both units had been rented out. Then it had sat empty for ages before Cassie had rented it from Dan Caldwell, and until now, she’d never realized how thin the walls were.
And now she was terminally distracted wondering if Jake had taken his clothes off yet. Realizing that he was naked just on the other side of the wall. She jumped up off the couch and scurried back to the microwave, tugging open the door and closing it as loudly as possible in a vain attempt to drown out the sound of running water.
She pulled the lid off the Tupperware and grabbed a spoon, stirring the potatoes with much more vigor than was necessary.
Taking a bottle of wine and a glass out of her cabinet, she poured herself a generous amount. The wine would help. It would dull her senses. Hopefully make her slightly less edgy, and slightly less aware of what was happening in the apartment next door.
She took a sip of wine, and eyeballed the couch. That was usually where she ate but she wondered if she was inviting disaster by moving back over there.
But then the alternative was huddling in a corner of her kitchen just because she couldn’t get a handle on her hormones. That was ridiculous.
She sniffed and collected her dinner, walking back over to the couch and setting the plate on her coffee table. She startled when she heard what sounded like his shoulder bumping up against the shower wall. It sounded very slippery. And solid.
She took