Cassidy Harte and the Comeback Kid Read Online Free PDF

expected, she didn’t look exactly thrilled to see him. Her eyes turned wintry, her mouth went as tight as a shriveled-up prune, and her spine stiffened, vertebrae by vertebrae.
    Even so, she looked so beautiful he had to shove his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for her.
    She must have only just climbed out of the bath. Her still-damp hair, a few shades darker than normal, clung to her head, and she had wrapped herself in a silky robe of the palest yellow. The delectable smell of peaches wafted to him on the cool, early-summer breeze, and his mouth watered.
    Framed in the light from inside her cabin, she looked warm and soft and welcoming, just as he had imagined her a thousand times over the years.
    Her voice, though, was as cold as her eyes. “What do you want?”
    Just to see you. To hear your voice again. He shiftedhis weight, alarmed at the need instantly pulsing through him just at the sight of her. He would have to do a much better job of controlling himself if he wanted this plan to work.
    â€œI just spoke with Jean.” Despite his best intentions, his voice came out a little ragged. “She said you tendered your resignation.”
    He didn’t think it was possible, but that prune-mouth tightened even more. “What else did you expect?”
    â€œI expected you to show a little more backbone.”
    She stared at him for several seconds. In the porch light her eyes looked huge, those dark lashes wide with disbelief, and then she laughed harshly. “Oh that’s a good one, coming from you. Really good. Thanks. I needed a good joke tonight.”
    Okay. He deserved that. He had no right to lecture her about staying power when he had been the one who walked away just days before their wedding. Still, that was a different situation altogether.
    He plodded gamely forward. “So you’re just going to walk out and turn your back on Mrs. Martineau when she needs you?”
    Her gaze shifted to some spot over his shoulder. “Jean has nothing to do with this. You’re the new owner. That means I’m turning my back on you. ”
    â€œWe need to talk about this.”
    â€œNo, we don’t.” She started to close the door, but his instincts kicked in and he managed to think fast enough to shove a boot in the space. Still, she pushed the door hard enough to make him wince.
    â€œWe don’t have anything to say to each other,” she snapped.
    â€œI think we do. Come on, Cass. Let me in.”
    After a long pause where she continued to shove thedoor painfully against his foot, she finally shrugged and stepped back. He followed before she had a chance to change her mind.
    Inside, he saw the cabin’s floor plan matched his. Here, though, it was obvious Cassie had decorated it to suit her personality. It was warm and comforting, with richly textured rugs and pillows and Native American artwork covering the walls.
    Cassie was a nurturer. She always had been, even as a girl just barely out of high school. She used to talk about her brothers raising her, but he had spent enough time with the family to know she took as much care of them as they did her. The Hartes looked out for each other.
    The cabin reflected that nesting instinct of hers.
    He smiled a little at an assortment of whimsical, ugly, carved trolls filling an entire shelf above her mother’s rocking chair. She’d been collecting them since she was a girl and he recognized several new ones since he had last seen her collection.
    He narrowed his gaze, looking closer. Where were the little kissing trolls he’d given her as a gift during their first month together? He couldn’t see the piece here with the rest of the figurines.
    He almost asked her what she’d done with it—why she hadn’t set it out, too—but then clamped his teeth against the question. He had no right to ask her. Even if she burned it and flushed the ashes down the toilet, nobody would have