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Cassie gasped but didn’t have time to resist. His lips found hers, and she felt the warm, insistent pressure of his tongue against her teeth. Her mind spun out of control, her pulse began to thunder, and she closed her eyes, allowing herself this one, tiny taste of pleasure. She knew that Colton didn’t care for her—no more than he had all those years ago—and yet she couldn’t stop herself from tasting him, feeling him, enjoying the bittersweet pressure of his mouth against hers.
His hand became tangled in her hair, and he groaned. When he finally dragged his mouth from hers, he stared at her through passion-glazed eyes. “Some things never change,” he whispered raggedly before unlatching the door and sliding outside. “Good night, Cass.” Without waiting for a response, he slammed the door shut and turned his collar against the wind. He strode across the parking lot, mentally kicking himself. Why had he kissed her? Why? That was a dumb move.
He yanked open the door of his truck, climbed inside and thrust his key into the ignition, swearing under his breath. If he thought kissing Cassie would convince him that it was over between them, he’d been wrong. Dead wrong.
“Fool,” he ground out, flicking on the ignition. “Goddamned fool!” He glanced in the sideview mirror and watched as Cassie pulled out of the lot.
What would it be like to spend a night with her? A weekend? One kiss had only whetted his appetite for more. Would a weekend in bed satisfy him—fill his need so that he could forget about her? Or would being with her become an addiction—the more time he spent with her, the more he would crave?
“Don’t even think about it!” he growled. The woman was trouble. Big trouble. And for once in his life, Colton intended to keep himself out of trouble.
* * *
Her father was in the living room watching television when Cassie walked quietly into the house. She could hear the laugh track from a weekly sitcom and Ivan’s soft chuckle.
She could tell he’d eaten, as she glanced around the kitchen. Though most of the evidence wasn’t in sight, as he’d washed his dishes, she noticed the leftover chicken he’d forgotten to wrap and place in the refrigerator.
“’Bout time you showed up,” he said when she hung her coat in the hall closet and poked her head into the living room. “Where ya been? Emergency?”
“Not this time.”
He glanced up. His reading glasses were perched on the end of his nose, his stocking feet propped on an ottoman. Only one lamp was lit, and the morning newspaper was scattered across an end table with one page folded to a half-finished crossword puzzle.
Cassie decided to come clean. Three Falls was a small town, and it would be better for Ivan to hear the truth from her before someone else spread the news. “I had dinner with Colton.”
Her father’s bushy brows rose. “Did you now?”
“Uh-huh. He was waiting for me when I got off work, and we drove over to Timothy’s.”
“Any particular reason?”
Anticipating a battle, Cassie drew in a long breath. “Believe it or not, it was his way of apologizing.” She dropped onto the couch beside her father and grabbed the paper with the puzzle.
“McLeans don’t apologize.”
Cassie grinned. “Well, it was tough. Colton’s not very good at it, but he seemed sincere.”
“Bah!”
“Prevaricator.”
“What?” He twisted his head around, looking at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“Eighteen down—liar. It’s prevaricator.” She handed the folded newspaper to her father, who scribbled in the answer.
“Just don’t go trustin’ Colton,” Ivan said, glancing up at her before filling in a few more letters.
“Because he’s a McLean?”
“That’s a good reason.”
“Dad,” she said gently, “don’t you think it’s time to end all this nonsense about a feud?”
“Never!”
“But John’s dead now.”
“That doesn’t change what he did,” Ivan muttered, his color rising. “And as for Colton, he’s very much alive and he’s as bad as his uncle. I haven’t forgotten how he treated you.”
