Cassie crossed the room, plucked a slice of red pepper from the board, and popped it into her mouth.“What about those greasy-ass butter bombs from the Quick Stop off Route 15?”
Nash barked out a laugh.“Christ.That shithole closed ’bout six years back.”
“Seriously?Oh man, I loved those things.I’d eat like six at a time.”
“And when you were hungover,” Nash added, scraping the vegetables into a cast-iron skillet, “six fuckin’ dozen.”
“Yeah, but in my defense, drinking that much of your daddy’s shine would’ve killed most people.I just wanted biscuits.Lots of ’em.”
“That ain’t all you wanted,” Nash drawled.Oil snapped in the pan, the smell of garlic and peppers unfurling through the kitchen.
Cassie rolled her eyes.Nash’s dick had gotten more than enough credit for one day.
“Speaking of Mav,” she said dryly, “that smells familiar.What’d he call it—mountain man hash?”
“Only thing he could cook.Now it’s the only thing I can cook.And probably the only thing Junie’ll cook.Girl thinks seasoning means salt.”
She pressed her lips together.There it was again—the kid-shaped fact still wedged between them.She exhaled slowly.
“Listen.”Her gaze slipped to the skillet.“I didn’t know about…Junie.Connor never told me.So when I saw her at the clubhouse…” She exhaled softly.“I’m sorry for how I handled that.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Nash muttered.“Him keepin’ that from you.He didn’t talk much about you either.Not with me around.”
She cocked her head.“Did you ever ask?”
“I said things.He’d toss some bullshit back.”
“Maybe he figured you’d short-circuit if someone said violin,” she said at last, trying for teasing and failing.
Nash’s eyes cut to hers.“Guess he figured you’d do the same if someone said ‘kid’.”
Neither of them spoke; off to the side the skillet hissed.
“He wasn’t wrong,” Cassie said finally.“When he told me you and Addy were getting married…” She shook her head.That had been the last time she’d let herself fall apart over what could’ve been.
“I think that’s why we started drifting,” she went on.“He knew I didn’t want to hear anything about…you.And you—the club—that was his whole world.”Her hands lifted, then fell.“Eventually, our worlds were so far apart there wasn’t much left to say.”
“And that’s on me,” she added, quieter now.“I let my…issues…get in the way.”
Nash went still.
He set the spatula aside and moved down the counter.Leaning over it, he tugged gently at her hair—enough to tip her chin, enough to make her meet his eyes.
“Cas,” he said quietly.“That ain’t just on you.’Fore Con wrecked, he was good.Better than good.Seein’ this waitress up near Buckeye.Pullin’ shifts at the garage, goin’ on runs.Maybe y’all grew apart, but shit happens.The man never had a bad word to say.
“To him,” Nash went on, “you walked on goddamn water.”
“I thought he was keepin’ quiet around you,” she whispered, her throat gone tight.
“Don’t mean I wasn’t listenin’ to what he told everyone else.”
“Hear anything good?”she asked, a slight smile in her tone.
Nash huffed.“All I ever heard was Cassie doin’ this.Cassie goin’ there.Cassie winnin’ somethin’ else.”
“What?”Her eyes lifted to his.“You wanted it to be bad?”
“Sometimes,” he admitted, thumb brushing over her lower lip.
