“You wish,” she managed. Just the tiny fleeting oh-so-wrong thought of slicked, muscled abs, defined arms, dripping curled hair, and intense blue-greenish eyes all surrounded by steam flitted through her mind. She swallowed down the lust and silently asked forgiveness.

  “Actually, I wish you’d leave. Go lock up and do your decorating stuff.”

  “I’ll go.” By all means she needed to. “But first I wanna know why now? Why see the room?”

  He huffed. “I haven’t talked to her all week because Lori says she’s been busy. So I can’t ask her favorite color. And then I got to thinking…I need measurements. The house looks big but her room might not be. I want everything to fit.”

  He was going to royally screw this up. The couple of times she’d been in the vicinity of him on the phone with Lori, it ended in disaster. In person? He’d be lucky to get through the front door. Maybe Cassie could keep him calm. “Pick me up in thirty minutes.”

  “For what?”

  “I’m going, too.”

  “You have a better chance of getting in that shower with me than you do of traipsing into my ex’s house.”

  She rose on her tiptoes, almost but not quite reaching eye level. “I’m definitely doing one of them.”

  ***

  Jax stared her down, his insides on fire. “It’s not a very big shower if you plan on getting rowdy.”

  “Pick me up in thirty minutes.”

  He worked his jaw and ran down every reason why she shouldn’t come. He only came up with one reason why she should. He wanted her to. “Twenty. And if you’re not ready, it’s on you.” He shoved her out of the door frame and slammed the door in her face.

  On the dot, Jax pulled into her drive. She wore a pair of leggings with a long shirt and short ankle boots. He probably ought to apologize for having thoughts he shouldn’t. Wasn’t like she knew what he was thinking.

  God did, though. And as angry as he’d been at God, he couldn’t believe he was feeling some conviction. Of all the times.

  She hurriedly locked the door. No real point. Anyone who wanted in her house was getting in. She rounded the truck and climbed in. She stared at him then reached over and smoothed down a patch of his hair.

  He flinched. Couldn’t help it. He was dangerously close to feeling things he couldn’t afford to feel with Cassidy. He’d been doing all right on his own. No one to fail or disappoint but himself and he’d gotten used to that.

  She retracted her hand and her face fell. Had he hurt her feelings somehow?

  “And to think just twenty minutes ago you wanted to shower with me.”

  Guess not. But it seemed like he had. He smirked, then sobered. Probably ought to apologize for that, too. It had brought all sorts of sordid thoughts. He hadn’t been with anyone since…well that wasn’t true. He’d gone out and had a one-night stand right after his divorce was final. Regretted it sorely. He hadn’t been raised that way. Knew it was wrong, but somehow in a twisted way, he felt like he was getting back at Lori. Even though she’d never even known and they weren’t married anymore. Since then, he’d been on the straight and narrow. Not that he didn’t admire women, but he’d never had the visceral pull to want a woman. Not like he wanted Cassidy.

  So he was keeping his distance. Because it wasn’t just her body he wanted. He wanted her company. Like the night at Little Italiano. Jax wanted to be with her. Listen to her jabber. He’d gotten used to it, especially because weaved in it was a lot of wisdom and definite entertainment. He admired her mind. Her easy way with people. Her laugh. The fact he found himself wanting her heart was the most dangerous. Nope. Not gonna happen. He’d break it. Even worse, she’d break his. When she discovered he wasn’t enough for her. And she’d leave.

  Cassidy fiddled with the radio.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Searching for truth.” She snickered. “What’s it look like?”

  “I don’t know what it’s like up here. But down south, you don’t ever touch a man’s radio.”

  “Or his hair, apparently,” she grumbled.

  “Or his hair.” He slapped her hand away from the radio, and she grinned.

  “Fine. But no country music. I can’t handle it.”

  “I knew something was wrong with you…if I put it on your favorite station will you keep your trap shut on the ride?”

  “Doubtful.”

  Good. “Country music it is.”

  “I plan to talk. I know you don’t. So one grunt for yes. Two grunts for no. Okay?”

  He grunted once.

  She chuckled and for most of the trip, carried the conversation. Which was fine by him.

  ***

  They entered a nice neighborhood. Very nice. Jax’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

  This couldn’t be easy. Seeing his wife and daughter in another man’s house. His nostrils flared. “We’re not…on cordial terms, really.”

  “You don’t say. I’ve heard you on the phone with her, and both times it’s ended in her hanging up on you. Unless, that’s the way she ends all her calls. You’re stalling. Let’s go. This is for Daisy Ray, not Lori non-Anderson.”

  “Why do you keep bringing up Lori Anderson? Who is Lori Anderson?”

  “The woman you’re not dating. Now come on Sir Stalls A Lot.” She jumped out of the truck and waited for him to lead the way to the front door. He rang the bell and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets.

  A few moments later, the door opened and one of the most beautiful women Cassie had ever seen stood before her with wide ebony eyes. Hair the same color shimmered down her shoulders. Like a glossy shampoo commercial kind of sheen. Tall and lithe, she was everything Cassie wasn’t. She was even taller than her own five foot ten.

  “What are you doing here, Jaxon?” She glanced at Cassie. Gave her a once-over and arched an eyebrow. “And you are?”

  “Cassie—”

  “Ah.” She nodded. “The secretary. I recognize your voice.”

  Jax stepped up, blocking Cassie from Lori, like a human shield. “I wanted to come by and see Daisy Ray a minute and measure her room.”

  Lori gave a slow, icy smile. “You want to measure her room. And see her a minute. You drove an hour for that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  Uh-oh. He hated that question.

  “I’m doing something for her birthday, and I want to make sure it’ll fit in her room.”

  “What are you making?” She glanced behind her.

  Jax rubbed the back of his neck. “Bedroom furniture.”

  Eyes narrowed, she stepped onto the stoop, barefoot. “She has bedroom furniture, Jax. She doesn’t need any more.”

  “Right, but…” He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw.

  This woman was about to do one of two things: eat him alive or tick him the heck off. And then it was going to get ugly.

  “Mama,” a little tinkly voice sounded with a sweet southern drawl.

  “Jeez, Jax.” Lori looked over her shoulder. “Just a minute, honey.”

  Was she not going to let them in? Was she not going to let him see his own daughter? Could she do that?

  “Look, if he’s here, I can come back. I didn’t think it through.”

  “Typical.”

  His cheek pulsed. “Is he here?”

  “No but—”

  “Mama?” A little head poked between the crack in the door and Lori non-Anderson’s yoga-pantsed leg. “Daddy!”

  Cassie’s heart melted.

  “Hi baby.”

  Nope. Now it melted. Baby. Hearing that big southern burly man with his deep raspy voice drawl that word. Knees. Weak.

  The little girl turned her attention to Cassie. Dark hair the color of her mom’s but eyes and lashes that mirrored her daddy’s. What a doll face. Cassie smiled.

  “Who are you?”

  “Cassie. I work with your daddy.”

  Lori looked at Jax and they held a conversation with their eyes. The sign of familiarity. Intimacy. Cassie felt a pang of jealousy.

  “You make stuff out of wood, too?”

  “No. I’m a decorator, and your daddy makes a lot of furniture that I use in homes. He’s very good.”

  Jax glanced at her and a soft expression filled his eyes. Appreciation? She wasn’t sure.

  Lori sighed. “Daddy’s only staying for a minute.” She swung the door open. Cassie looked to Jax but he stood ramrod.

  “Jax,” Cassie whispered. “Door open means go in.”

  “In your world, so does door shut.” He shook off his hesitation and went inside, keeping his eyes on his daughter.

  “Does B & E mean anything to you?” Cassie followed him inside the large foyer. Wrought iron staircase led to an open balcony.

  “You want to see my room, Daddy?”

  “I do, actually.”

  “Won’t make a difference, Jax.” Lori tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Go on, though.”

  Cassie wasn’t sure if she should go or stay. If she stayed she might punch the woman. She chose to follow Jax. Up the stairs, down a long hallway. Daisy Ray opened her door to creamy yellow walls covered in daisies. A cheery yellow bedspread and several flower-shaped throw pillows dotted the full-sized bed.

  Jax took it all in. “You like yellow,” he murmured.

  “I like lots of colors. What color do you like?”

  “Blue. I like dark blue.” He continued to scan the room. Shelves of piano trophies. Pictures of sunny days, flowery meadows, and a poster of a baby grand piano. He pulled out his measuring tape.

  “What’s that for?”

  “Well…” Jax stared at the measuring tape.

  Clearly he hadn’t thought it through at all. Another reason why Cassie needed to be here. “Daisy Ray, could you show me to the bathroom?”

  “Sure.”

  Jax gave her another soft expression, and she and Daisy Ray went into the hall. Now to stall her while he got to measuring.

  “So yellow’s your favorite color?” Cassie asked.

  “It was. I like green.”

  “Green is my favorite color, too! Grass green or bright green?”

  “Bright. And I like purple and orange. I like all colors. I like M&Ms, too.”

  She was a talker. Bet Jax just loved that. “I hear you’re an amazing pianist.”

  “Did Daddy tell you that?” Wide eyes blinked and a smile spread across her heart-shaped face. That, she inherited from her mother. But the nose and eyes. All Jax.

  Cassie nodded. “I’d love to see you play.”

  “I have recitals. You should come.” Her top teeth looked a little big next to the baby teeth she hadn’t lost. But by the time she hit puberty, Jax was going to have to swap out the measuring tape for a shotgun.

  “I’d like that.”

  Jax came out of the bedroom and nodded.

  Daisy Ray went on a tangent about what she’d been doing since the last time she saw him. She barely took a breath and Jax had the same deer in the headlights look in his eyes, but he nodded and grinned. And answered with a few words more than Cassie ever got.

  “Can you stay for dinner?”

  “No, baby. I just wanted to come by and see you a minute. I’ve missed you.”

  “I missed you, too. Can I come see you next time?”

  He sank to his knees. “Maybe. We’ll talk to your mom.”

  Cassie followed him and Daisy Ray down the stairs. Lori entered with a glass of Merlot.

  “I’ll see you this Saturday, okay?”

  “Okay.” Daisy Ray hugged Jax, and he picked her up and planted a kiss on her cheek.

  “Be good, okay?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Honey, go wash up for dinner.”

  Daisy Ray scrambled up the stairs, and Lori turned on Jax. “You can measure all day long. We have furniture.”

  Jax squeezed the tape measure in his hand. “I don’t see the big deal here.”

  “You don’t see anything, Jax. That’s your problem,” she hissed.

  “I saw him and you in our bed well enough,” he growled.

  Okay. Might be time to go.

  “You know what. You can forget Saturday. I don’t want her anywhere near you. Get out of my house. Now!” Lori pointed with the hand full of wine; it sloshed on the floor.

  “You can’t keep me from my daughter, Lori!” His voice echoed off the walls.

  “Jax,” Cassie murmured. “She’ll hear. Settle down.”

  “Are you hearing this craziness? Are you listening?” He stormed into Lori’s face. “I gave you everything! I let you take whatever you wanted including our daughter. All I want. Is. To. See. My. Daughter!”

  Cassie put her hand on his bicep. “It’s time to go. Now.”

  One more beat, and he barreled out the front door, slamming it. She turned to Lori. “He just wanted to do something nice for her birthday.”

  Lori’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I don’t want anything he’s made in this house.”

  “What about what your daughter wants?”

  “Let me give you a little free advice. I see the way you look at him. He’s a road you don’t wanna go down.”

  Cassie glanced through the front window. Jax sat in the truck. “I think you have the wrong idea. I work for Jax. I’m not dating him. Even if I wanted to, what road I go down is my business.”

  “He’s easy to fall in love with. Lot harder to stay in love with.”

  “Nobody said love was easy.” Although what did Cassie know about it? She’d never been in love with anyone.

  “No furniture.”

  “It’s just wood.”

  “No. It’s not.” She downed the rest of the wine that hadn’t sloshed onto the floor. “It’s a piece of him. A piece of his passion that he never gave me. Daisy Ray is part of me, I have her. And I don’t want anything in this house as a reminder of what I could never have. And that’s all I’m gonna say about that.” A streak of pain flashed across her face.

  Cassie nodded. “I’m sorry. I am. But Daisy Ray doesn’t deserve—”

  “You just met my daughter. You don’t know anything about me. Or her. Or probably Jax. No one does. So don’t come into my home and tell me what my child does or does not deserve.”

  That was fair. Cassie had overstepped. “You’re right.” She slipped out the door and climbed into the truck.

  “Have a nice little heart-to-heart in there?” He sneered and threw the truck in reverse. “Have a good laugh at my expense?”

  Cassie buckled her seatbelt and tried not to think of all the times her mom exploded on her when she was angry. Is that what Jax had done to Lori? Took out his frustrations on her in between grunts and growls? Like he was doing to Cassie now.

  “What… got nothing to say? No opinion on my fathering skills? My husband skills? Think she’s got it better now?” he bellowed and gripped the wheel as fury poured from his eyes. “How do you feel about that? You like to run that mouth and spout off your feelings. Let’s hear it.”

  Cassie closed her eyes and shifted toward the window. One hour. She could tune him out.

  But he was itching to pick a fight and Cassie had rarely backed down from one. It’s how she kept from getting roughed up all those years living with a temperamental mother.

  God, I don’t know what to do. She didn’t know the Bible super well. She’d only been studying it for two years. What Scripture applied here?

  Jesus was led before that judge or politician. He didn’t even speak. He just let them mock and yell. Was that the right thing to do now? How was she supposed to know when it was okay to stand up for herself or back down?

  “This is your fault, you know!”

  “What?” That got her attention.

  “I was gonna paint the thing pink and be done with it. But no. You put it in my head that I should see her room. See what she liked. Get a sense of who she is. She’s an eight-year-old girl. She likes girl stuff!”

  In her non-Christian days she’d have told him exactly where he could go. But she didn’t wish that place on anyone anymore.

  He cranked the radio up to deafening levels. All his steam seemed to evaporate and he heaved one last sigh. Part of her felt sorry for him but the rest of her was furious because she wasn’t anyone’s verbal punching bag. She’d been there, done that, before. Never again.

  Curling up next to the window, she imagined her dream home where she could look out and see the trees lush in spring and summer, a spray of color in fall, and iced over and glistening in winter.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Zzzz!

  Zzzzzzz!

  Zzzzzzzzzzzzz!

  Cassie pulled the covers over her head and rolled over on her side. The noise continued. Was she dreaming?

  No.

  Someone was cutting down a tree or something next door. Sounded like it’d made its way to her front porch. She cracked an eye open. Six a.m. On a freaking Saturday morning? Someone was going down for this.

  So. Tired.

  Cassie had opted not to go into work Friday. She’d needed a breather and she had some catch-up to play with her own business. Her paperwork had mounted. Jax hadn’t called to check on her. For all he knew she’d died. Maybe she had. The banging wouldn’t stop. She slid, literally, out of bed, the covers coming with her. Shoving back a mass of hair, she clambered into the living room.

  Wait.

  That was on her doorstep. She swung the front door open and shrieked. “What the mother is going on out here?”

  Jax looked up. Flannel shirt over a white tee. Work jeans and boots. Gloved hands holding some kind of power saw. He flicked a switch and the zzzz sound died. “Hey. Mornin’.”

  Morning? Frustration almost kept words from forming on her tongue. “You break in my house. You verbally assault me. And now you vandalize my porch? What the heck, Jax? It’s six a.m. On a Saturday.”

  “I know. Thought I’d get an early start. Your porch is a death trap. For all I knew you’d fallen through the boards and died. Didn’t see you yesterday.”

  “I have a phone.” He was fixing her porch? By sawing it in half? “I can’t handle this.” She shut her door and headed straight to the coffee maker. Maybe after a gallon of java, she’d have a clue about Jax Woodall.

  The sawing started up again.