Saved by the Single Dad (12 page)

His sweet Cassandra. The words echoed in his head for a moment as he saw her break, coming apart at the seams so completely that she took him with her. And, when he came, the sudden violence of each sensation robbed Jack of everything. He belonged to her now.

* * *

They rested a little, grinning breathlessly at the racing beat of each other's hearts. Jack folded her in his arms and they lay staring into each other's eyes.

It was still early, though, and they both knew that this wasn't even close to being over. A murmured conversation, stretching like cats in front of the fire. A bottle of chilled Prosecco from the kitchen, which popped satisfyingly, the cork hitting the ceiling. A book, chosen at random from the shelf, which turned out to be a collection of short mystery stories.

He propped the book on her hip, their limbs tangled together. He loved this simple pleasure. Reading to her in front of the fire, feeling her intent gaze.

‘Had enough?' Jack got to the denouement of the first story and she moved, sending the book slithering to the floor.

‘Not nearly enough.' She picked up his glass, holding it to his lips, and he took a sip. Then she ran the cool rim across the heated skin of his chest.

‘Hey... Two can play at that game...' He grabbed the glass from her, touching it to her lips and then her nipple and she yelped, laughing. And then everything else was forgotten as he rolled on to his back, pulling her astride him.

‘How many times...' She leaned down to kiss him and he cupped her breasts in his hands. ‘How many times can you do it in one night?'

An hour ago, Jack would have said that he wasn't going to be able to move for at least another two days. But Cass had a way of confounding every expectation. ‘I have no idea.'

She shook her head in smiling reproof. ‘Everyone should know that.'

‘Yeah. I guess everyone should.'

* * *

No one should have that kind of stamina. The man should come with a warning, stamped across his forehead.
Danger. You will be putty in my hands.
By the time Jack tipped them both out of bed and into the shower, late the following morning, he'd pushed her to her breaking point. Then past it, into a rose-tinted world that seemed to revolve entirely around his smile.

Cass started on Sunday lunch while Jack went to pick Ellie up. That afternoon he set about hanging wind chimes in the little girl's room, positioned so that they sounded every time the door opened. Ellie loved them, and Jack's grin made it quite clear that the loud jangling sound wasn't intended solely to amuse his daughter.

He didn't need to ask whether she would come to him that night, and Cass didn't need to answer. He was waiting, his eyes following her every move as she walked towards the bed. Jack's hand trembled as he pushed the silk wrap slowly from her shoulders.

During the day they never spoke of it, even when they were alone, and hardly even touched. Jack was a friend who had offered her a place to stay while her house was flooded. When darkness fell and the house was quiet, he was her lover. It was simple, intoxicating and they both knew that this relationship, with its split personality, couldn't last.

But for two weeks it did. A secret from everyone. Untouched by the past, because they both knew that there was to be no future to it.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

‘W
AKE
UP
.
W
AKE
UP
...
' Jack whispered into her ear, jerking the coffee out of Cass's way as she suddenly sat bolt upright in bed. That hadn't been quite the reaction he was looking for, but he'd watched her eyes flutter slowly open once already this morning.

‘Uh... What's the time?'

‘Eight-thirty.' She looked gorgeous when she woke. Particularly like this, the bedclothes slipping down to her waist, her hair in disarray.

‘What?' Jack reared backwards as she shot out of the bed, affording him an even better view. Then she stilled. ‘It's Saturday, isn't it.'

‘Yeah.' He smiled. ‘Coffee?'

She took the mug from his hand and took a sip. Then another thought occurred to her. ‘Where's Ellie?'

‘Downstairs. I heard her get up about an hour ago. I told her you were probably sleeping and not to come up here and disturb you.' Cass was up before Ellie during the week, and at weekends the wind chimes gave Jack a chance to head her off before she came into his bedroom. It had worked so far.

She took another gulp of coffee. ‘I should be getting going.'

‘Not without us, you're not.' Martin had called last night to say that the flood water had receded from around Cass's house. He wasn't letting her go back there alone a second time.

‘But I said—'

‘Yeah. I said too.'

‘Thought you might have forgotten that.' She pushed his legs a little further apart with her foot so she could perch on his knee. Jack took the cup from her hand, taking a sip.

‘Post-coital memory loss isn't permanent. I'm coming to help. Whether you like it or not.'

‘Too bad.' She took the cup back, raising it to her lips. ‘It'll be cold and wet...'

‘Are you even listening to me?'

She leaned forward, brushing a kiss on his brow. ‘Yes, I'm listening. I'm just not sure how I'll feel about it all.'

‘Then let me feel it with you. Whatever it is.' Jack stood up, tipping her off his knee and kissing her cheek. ‘Get dressed.'

* * *

They were on the road by nine o'clock. The water had begun to drain away from the motorway and it was possible to take Cass's SUV across, Jack walking ahead to check the surface of the road for potholes while Ellie stared out of the window at the water swirling around the wheels. They drove up to the vicarage first to see Sue and Martin, and found Miss Palmer, drinking tea in the kitchen.

‘I happened to pop in.' She addressed Cass, giving Jack a smile. ‘Is this Ellie?'

Ellie clung to the bottom of Jack's jacket, trying to slide behind his legs. Miss Palmer smiled at her then bent to draw what looked like a large bundle of green felt out of a carrier bag at her feet. ‘I can't get this quite right, you know. Oops.'

Something fell to the ground at her feet. Ellie peered at it then stepped forward to pick it up. ‘Ah, thank you, dear.' Miss Palmer took the plastic toy away from her and put it on the table.

‘It's a dinosaur...'

‘Yes, dear. I've got some more here somewhere.' Miss Palmer fiddled with the bundle of felt and another plastic dinosaur fell out. ‘Ah, there it is.'

Ellie's shyness was no match for Miss Palmer and the little girl was hooked. She climbed up on to a chair next to Miss Palmer, craning across to see what she was doing. Sue went out into the hallway, calling up the stairs, ‘Hey, you two. Dinosaur Park...'

Jack raised a questioning eyebrow in Cass's direction. ‘Bit of a tradition around here. I used to love Dinosaur Park.'

By the time they'd drunk their tea, the felt had been rolled out on the table to display an impressive landscape—grass, rivers and desert—all sewn in a patchwork of colours. Ellie was wide-eyed, clutching a surprisingly lifelike volcano made out of fabric, and Sue's children were carefully arranging a waterfall made out of sparkly thread, which came complete with a pool at the bottom. Miss Palmer was talking to them quietly, lining up plastic trees and a variety of prehistoric creatures on the table, ready to complete the scene.

‘She can stay here if she wants.' Sue nodded towards Ellie. ‘I doubt they'll be finished before lunchtime, and then there's the battle to do.'

‘Battle?'

‘Yeah.' Cass grinned. ‘Don't you know anything about dinosaurs?'

Ellie had to be prompted to give him a hug and a kiss goodbye and turned back immediately to the task in hand. Jack followed Cass down the steep path that led to her house.

She was quiet, seeming to be preparing herself for what was ahead of them. Walking with her head down, across the mud which led to her house. Jack followed, wondering when she was going to stop and take a look around at the damage.

Clearly not until she got inside. The front door didn't move when she tried to push it open and Jack put his shoulder to it. It slowly opened, scraping across the carpet and making an arc in the sticky mud which covered the floor. A foul smell of damp and decay hit them.

* * *

This was worse than she'd thought. She'd expected the mud everywhere, the damp and the disgusting smell. Known that the plaster would be bulging and waterlogged, and that there would be brown watermarks on the walls.

And she'd known that it would be upsetting, but Cass hadn't prepared herself for feeling physically sick. She routinely saw a lot worse—homes that had been burned out or flooded. She hadn't lost her home and neither had she lost most of her possessions, as so many had. It was just a bit wet.

She produced a notepad from her pocket. ‘Front door.' She wrote the words carefully, the first on a list that was undoubtedly going to get very long. But she was doing okay. She was getting a grip.

Jack followed her in silence as she walked through the hall, stopping to write things down as she went. In the kitchen it was the same story—mud, watermarks on all the floor cupboards and the same horrible smell. Cass had disconnected the cooker unit and propped it up on the worktop, but the unit which housed it was ruined, the particle board swollen and blown.

‘Not so bad.' She tapped the floor tiles with the toe of her boot. ‘I wonder if I can salvage these and re-lay them.'

‘Cass...'

Not now. Not here. If he was too supportive, then she'd just want to cry. Then he'd hug her, and that wouldn't do because they'd agreed that the pleasures of the night shouldn't leak into the day.

She turned abruptly, marching back into the hall and through to the sitting room. Forming most of the large extension at the back of the house, it was usually a great place to sit and relax—large patio windows which looked out on to the river and the trees beyond it. Now it was ruined. The empty bookshelves and TV cabinet were practically falling apart and the same oozing mud disfigured the carpets and walls.

She tasted bile at the back of her throat. Retching and crying, Cass made a run for the kitchen, wrenching open the back door.

‘Don't touch me!' She was bent over, the fresh air stinging her wet cheeks, and Cass felt Jack's hand on her shoulder. She heaved in a couple of breaths, beginning to feel a little better.

When she straightened up again, she saw him standing by the back door. ‘Sorry about that. Must be the smell. Turned my stomach.'

‘Yeah. Must be.' He was watching her intently.

‘I'll...get some water from the car.' She walked past him into the kitchen, wondering what Jack was thinking of her.

‘Cass.' His voice behind her. ‘What we have. It's only nights, right?'

She froze. Cass had known it was a mistake to let him come here. Talking about it was sure to mess everything up. ‘Yes...'

‘I want one day too. Now... Today...' When she turned, his eyes were dark, with the same intensity she saw in them every night. Jack walked slowly towards her and wrapped her in a hug.

Without any warning at all, she started to cry. Big choking sobs, while she clung to his jacket. Jack soothed her, kissing the top of her head, holding her tight.

* * *

She'd cried for a long time. Blown her nose and cried a bit more. Jack had fetched water for her from the car, along with the flask of hot tea, and they'd sat on the kitchen doorstep together, sharing a cup of tea. Despite the devastation around them, Jack was beginning to feel that he could get used to this daytime thing.

Someone banged on the door. ‘Stay here. I'll get it.' Jack hurried through to the front door, heaving it open.

Martin stood on the doorstep. On the road a small group, mainly men but some women as well, all shod in wellington boots. Jack recognised Ben's parents, his father carrying a couple of shovels to help clear the mud from the floors.

‘I know Cass doesn't want any help.' It seemed that Martin had been appointed to take the first crack at persuading her otherwise.

‘She's taking any help she can get. Come in.' Jack stood back from the door and Martin beckoned to the group behind him.

What's going on?
She mouthed the words at him as he entered the sitting room.

‘Your friends have come to help you out.'

‘They don't need...'

‘Yes, actually, they do.' Jack put his arm around her, bundling her through to the hallway, which was filling up quickly.

‘Martin...' Tears welled in her eyes again and she clutched hold of Jack's sweater.

‘Thanks for coming.' Jack voiced the words for her and Martin gave a small nod.

‘Where are we going to start, then?'

* * *

The amount that could be achieved by a dozen people in less than four hours was amazing. The house had been aired through, and mud shovelled into buckets to be carted out. Carpets had been taken up and some of the mud had been scraped from the floorboards. In the kitchen, the cupboards and floor were washed clean and the smell of disinfectant started to permeate the air.

The furniture left in the sitting room was beyond repair, and was dismantled and removed. At two o'clock Martin received a text, and called for everyone to down tools.

‘Lunch in the church hall, ladies and gents. Half an hour.'

Cass had slipped from tearful and embarrassed, through red-cheeked and into beaming. Then back to tearful again as she stood at her front door, hugging everyone and thanking them as they filed out of the house.

‘I don't know what to say...' She stood in the doorway waving as everyone made their way back along the track to the village.

‘I think you said it, didn't you? Anyway, I think this morning was all about what the village wanted to say to you.'

‘It was so good of them...'

‘What goes around comes around, Cass.'

‘Thank you. For today.'

He nodded. ‘Do it again tomorrow?'

‘No. You spend tomorrow with Ellie, and I'll come here. I feel better about things, seeing how much difference we've made today.'

‘All right.' Jack would have a quiet word with Martin and make sure that Cass wasn't alone tomorrow. And maybe she was right. He'd asked for one day and she'd given it, and maybe that was enough for now.