Shrinking Violet (Colors #2) (4 page)

His deep chuckle sent a shiver through my body. “She seems to have him wrapped around her little finger.”

My grin turned into a full-blown smile as I thought about my little girl and how loved she was. “You have no idea. Kal and about every single man who works on the ranch would give their left arm for that little girl.” I couldn’t help it; I looked up and gave him a conspiratorial wink. “She gets a kick out of playing them for suckers.”

His penetrating gaze lingered on my face a few seconds longer than necessary, those jade green eyes darkening just slightly before moving down and focusing on my lips.

“Damn, you should really do that more often.”

“Do what?” I asked far too breathily.

His eyes darted back to mine, rendering me immobile even though my body was screaming at me to run. “Smile. You’re beautiful already, but when you smile…Jesus, Violet, you’re gorgeous.”

I took a step back, unable to take a full breath under the weight of the intensity that seemed to be surrounding us. “Violet? My name’s—”

Carson cut me off. “Cassidy…I know. But I thought the nickname suited you. You come off like a shrinking violet.” My cheeks heated under his scrutiny, but it was what he said next that had me stunned speechless. “But something tells me it’s all for show, that you tend to act shy to divert attention. Am I right?”

I stared at him wide-eyed, mouth agape. How was it possible that a man I’d just met, a man I’d spoken a handful of words with managed to see beneath my exterior so easily? It was shockingly frightening.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” A knowing grin spread across his lips while I struggled to find words.

“I…”

“Cass, can you help me…Oh, I’m sorry dear, am I interrupting?” Milly’s disruption was exactly what I needed to put some much needed distance between Carson and me.

“No!” I responded a little too enthusiastically. I tried again in a calmer tone. “No, not interrupting. I was just…I mean, Carson was…”

What the hell
! Carson Langford had miraculously managed to revert me back into a stuttering pre-pubescent middle-schooler in less than a day.

I was so screwed.

“I just stepped in to use the bathroom, ma’am.” Carson’s voice was full of humor as he strode past me, toward the downstairs washroom. He made a concerted effort to brush his body against mine as he moved, causing goose bumps to break out across every inch of exposed skin he touched.

I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath until the pressure in my chest became too much. I exhaled audibly just as the bathroom door shut. My heart was beating like I’d run a marathon as I turned to see Aunt Milly looking at me with a calculated grin on her face.

I held my hand up to ward off any unwanted comments. “Don’t even start.”

She chuckled, following behind me as I headed back for the kitchen to clean up the mess Willow made. “I didn’t say a thing,” she teased smugly, having clearly witnessed my downward spiral in Carson’s presence.

“And please keep it that way. I don’t want to hear it.”

She placed a warm hand over my forearm. “Cassidy, honey, there’s nothing wrong with being young and having fun.”

“Milly,” I started with a head shake. “I’m not a typical twenty-two-year-old. I have a
child
.”

“But that doesn’t mean you have to stop living. That boy’s attracted to you…and you’re attracted to him! What’s so wrong with that?”

I grabbed a damp dishrag and began sweeping up all the spilled sugar on the marble countertop. “I can’t turn back into the person I was when I first got here, Milly. I just can’t.” I knew my eyes were pleading as I stared into hers, so desperate for her to understand. “I was an
awful
person whenever a guy was in the picture. I won’t go back to that.”

“Good Lord, girly. When are you going to forgive yourself and finally move on? You were a girl. You’ve grown since then. You’ve matured! You can’t spend the rest of your life punishing yourself!”

“I’m not!” I yelled, my carefully maintained control slipping for just a moment before I was able to reel it back in. “I’m not punishing myself, Aunt Milly. I just know myself. And I’m not ready for any kind of relationship.” I went back to scrubbing the counter as I finished softly, “They bring out the worst in me.”

Aunt Milly grabbed my arm and turned me around, cupping my cheeks in her soft hands. “Baby girl, how are you ever gonna know if you don’t try? Take a leap, sweetheart. The fun is in the fall.” She placed a kiss on my cheek and walked out of the kitchen.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I whispered.

I stretched my body, relishing in the ache in my muscles from being so well used. It was just as perfect as it had always been.

The smile that had spread across my face as I watched Parker come out of the bathroom after disposing of the condom slowly started to fade as he reached for his jeans and began pulling them on.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

With his brusque answer, that familiar pressure in my chest—the pain I’d felt from the moment we’d broken up—began to build again. My breathing became shallow as panic formed deep in my gut.

“What? Why? I thought…I mean, we’re back together now, and my parents won’t be home for a few more hours…” I tried my best to plaster a seductive smile on my face, desperate to do anything to get him to stay. I rose to my knees and let the blanket fall, revealing my naked form to him. “Why don’t you stay for a little longer?” I purred.

I hated this. The desperation, the fear of being alone.

Always so alone.

I’d been born to two of the most selfish people in existence. My mother spent every hour of her days shopping or taking trips across the country to spa retreats. When my father wasn’t traveling for ‘business’, he didn’t have the time or inclination to deal with his own daughter. Vacationing typically meant the two of them going off somewhere on their own, without me. To assuage any guilt they felt at leaving me alone, they showered me in expensive gifts and materiel possessions, things I couldn’t care less about.

But I’d learned a long time before, that crying about being left out was pointless.

“Oh, Cassidy, your father and I just need some time to ourselves. I don’t understand why you’re so upset. You’re acting like a selfish brat.”

I could never understand why two people who detested being parents ever bothered to have a child together in the first place. I was nothing but an inconvenience to the both of them, something they could throw money at to get me out of their hair.

When Parker and I started dating two years ago, I was so thrilled to finally have someone in my life who was just mine, someone who was there because they wanted to be with me. Being with him meant I had someone to lean on. I filled the hours that my parents were absent with Parker. With him, I never had to be alone.

When we broke up, I was devastated. I’d poured everything I had into being with him. I didn’t know who I was if not Parker Owens’ girlfriend. The thought of the only thing that was truly mine being ripped away from me had terrified me.

But when he showed up on my doorstep earlier that evening, the anger and fear had slowly crept away. I thought I’d gotten him back.

As he reached for his t-shirt and pulled it on with a put-out sigh, like I’d somehow inconvenienced him, that fear came rushing back, crashing into me like a tidal wave.

“Cass, we aren’t back together. It was just sex.”

Dread coursed through my body like poison as I jumped from the bed, wrapping the sheet securely around me. Hysteria wasn’t too far behind. “What are you talking about? Of course we are!”

“Jesus Christ, Cassidy. Chill out!”

“No!” The panic quickly began to dissipate, morphing into the one emotion I’d learned would protect me from the crippling loneliness of my life.

Anger.

If my life had taught me anything, it was that sadness and hurt never helped anything. But anger brought results.

“You’re an asshole!” I raged, using fury to mask the ache in my chest. “Get the hell out of my house!”

“Shit, Cassidy, if I’d known you were gonna turn into such a bitch, I never would have come over!”

“GET OUT!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

“Gladly!” he shouted back, grabbing his shoes and storming from the room.

I stood still as a statue, waiting for the sound of the front door opening and slamming shut before I lost it.

Deep, gut-wrenching sobs broke free as I fell back onto my bed. God, how I hated feeling that way. I hated my life, my parents, and my cold, quiet house.

I hated that I would have to wake up the next day and go to school, pretending my life was so perfect and I didn’t have this hole deep inside of me that couldn’t seem to be filled. I hated that I let my anger get the best of me. Every. Single. Time. I hated the loss of control I always seemed to feel.

I hated that I would eventually let Parker back in again. And again, and again…just so I could drown out the loneliness, no matter how temporary it was.

But mostly, I hated myself.

Because I knew I wasn’t a good person. I knew I’d do anything to fill that void…even if it meant hurting someone else.

Since Carson had come to work on the ranch, I’d been having dreams about my past. Dreams that dredged up memories I wanted to forget all about. So I’d made an extreme effort to stay away as much as possible.

It took more work to actually
avoid
a person than I typically put in during my full eight hours, but by some miracle, I managed to prevent any run-ins with Carson for three days.

Not that it was easy.

I lost track of the number of times Milly or one of the other workers caught me staring at Carson…particularly when his back was to me and he was bending down working on something.
Dear Lord in Heaven. It should be illegal for a man’s ass to look that good in a pair of jeans.

Gardening had been an escape for me ever since coming to Willow Ranch. It was something I’d never done in my life, but I took quickly to it once Milly showed me the ropes. I used the time for reflection, to think about all the mistakes I’d made in my life and how I’d take the new opportunity handed to me in Texas as a way to turn myself into a better person. In the quiet, among the plants I worked tirelessly to grow and cultivate. I would allow myself to remember the life I used to live. The person I used to be. It was a type of therapy for me. Catharsis via fruits and vegetables.

How ironic that I spent the first eighteen years of my life balking at the thought of getting my hands dirty and the past four cherishing the feel of the soil beneath my fingers. How times had changed. Gardening cleansed my soul. It was as if I could bury my past sins in the earth and turn them into something better, growing something nourishing in the process.

Creating something good from bad.

But for the past three days, my time for self-reflection had morphed into a chance to shamelessly gawk at the unattainable man who had taken over my late-night fantasies.