Loving Cassie

Take Your Time

Take Your Time

The man leaning against my door frame had me at a loss for words. 

From the top of his stetson to the base of his boot covered feet, he was a walking fantasy. He stood nearly six-five in his well worn boots, and was nearly as wide as my doorway. His forearms were muscled, but not overly so, and his thighs were thick beneath his dark wranglers. His face was a work of art. Thick jaw with a light dusting of facial hair, high cheekbones, slightly crooked nose, and expressive silver eyes stared down at me.

A throat cleared, making me jump lightly and I blushed brightly under the amusement in his gaze.

"Howdy," he mumbled, his deep southern drawl teasing my senses, "I wanted to come over an' introduce myself. I'm Ward Montgomery, and I'm your neighbor across the way." His thumb jerked over his shoulder toward the closed apartment door -- he was the owner of the big black truck. He opened his mouth, his beautifully shaped mouth, and was about to say something else when I remembered my pot of potatoes on the stove. Eyes bulging, I held up a single finger and rushed back to my kitchen (a whole ten steps) to make sure I hadn't ruined my meal. Luckily, the potatoes had been on low and the green beans were soaking in a nice Italian dressing, not anywhere near the stove. I sighed, stirred the nearly boiling pot and returned to the front door. 

"I'm sorry," I squeezed out, nibbling on my bottom lip as I turned back to Ward, trying not to blush under his heavy gaze. "Ah, why don't you come on in, Mr. Montgomery, have a drink and we'll get acquainted. You're the first person I've met since I moved out here." I was slightly shocked by my own invitation, but it was too late to take it back. Plus, I could use a little adult company since talking to Walker had been the extent of conversation outside of work. I probably should've put something a little nicer on, considering his clean looking t-shirt and jeans made him seem like he'd put effort into being dressed, but I figured since it was my house I could totally rock the yoga pants. 

A smile was my response and damn if I didn't have to lock my knees to keep from falling on my ass. I scooted aside and allowed him to come in, gesturing to the bar stool on the opposite side of the island. I fumbled for a moment, before offering him one of the beers my Dad had tucked into my fridge as he picked Walker up -- a way to celebrate. 

"Anyway I can get your name, ma'am?" He murmured over the neck of the bottle, his lips tipped in a sexy half-smile. I flushed in mortification. I hadn't introduced myself? What kind of moron invites someone into her home and doesn't introduce herself! I mentally kicked myself. Stupid!

"I'm sorry, normally I'm not so scatterbrained. I'm Cassidy Holland. You're welcome to call me Cassie." I said, but I was suddenly unsure. Should I introduce myself as Holland since I wouldn't be for much longer? I wasn't sure. Instead of dwelling on it too much, I studied Ward under the veil of my lashes and went about heating the stove top grill for the beans. 

"Nice to meet you, Cassie." 

Oh, he had no idea.

 * * * * *

I ended up inviting Ward to stay for dinner and it turned out to be one of the best nights I'd had with a person of the opposite sex in years. He was intelligent, kind and charming -- he had something about him that put me at ease, all the while setting me on edge. I plied him with beer, since that was pretty much the only way I was going to get rid of the six pack Dad had bought me, and asked him about himself. He was nearly thirty, never been married, no kids, and no pets. He owned his own construction company and loved his work, he wasn't shy about that fact either. Without thinking I asked why a man with who owned his own company lived in an apartment when he could afford to build his own place, but he just laughed and stated he didn't want to build a home until he had a family to build it for. My insides quivered with his answer and I nodded lightly before asking him about his favorite part of what he did. His silver eyes nearly glowed with pleasure as he spoke about the jobs he'd worked. It was a wonderful sight. I was convinced that we were going to be great friends. Friends being the key word. When dinner had finished and I'd made a plate for him and placed it in front of him wordlessly, while getting my own together. His moan of appreciation had me freezing. Yeah, friends my inner voice whispered sarcastically. 

"Damn, this is good. Is that cream cheese and spinach?" I beamed under Ward's praise while nodding, all the while digging around trying to find a memory of the last time Dalton had actually taken the time to savor a meal I'd made. Looking back, I couldn't really remember any distinct moments. My eyes dampened lightly and I covered it by swinging around to face the fridge and digging out a pitcher of fresh tea. I was actually enjoying myself and didn't want to ruin it by thinking about my soon to be ex-husband and I was lucky because the mood was gone by the time I turned back around. 

Twenty minutes later, I had to warn Ward not to fill up on thirds of the chicken because I had desert. His look of surprise was comical and I nearly chocked on my sip of tea. There was a pleading gleam in his eyes that urged me to reveal the sweets and I decided to put the man out of his misery. 

I unveiled the confection with a dubious smile.

"It's my chocolate fudge cake. It's filled with raspberry mousse, covered in white chocolate Italian meringue buttercream and topped with curls of white and dark chocolate." I cut him a hefty slice and had to resist the urge to clench my thighs when he started moaning once again. Those little sounds were so ruining all of my good intentions to be completely platonic friends. I was graced with another panty melting smile. 

Friends, friends, friends...

Oh, boy.

Ward Montgomery 

Papaw Ward, my namesake, always said that he knew he was meant to marry Mamaw the moment he tasted her cooking. He said all it took was a single bite. And, apparently it worked for them because six weeks later they were married and still were to this day -- nearly sixty years of marriage and still madly in love. I shivered. Though no one wanted to know how I knew they were still goin' strong. And if I were to judge based off of Papaw's criteria? 

I'd get down on one knee right now and beg the dark haired nymph to marry me. 

But, I wasn't that impractical, no matter how tempted I was.

I studied her as she scurried around the kitchen, tucking all but one slice of the cake into a carrier and placing the single slice in the fridge. Dinner was over, dessert was demolished and I was uncertain how I was supposed to play out the rest of our visit. My intention when I knocked on her door was to simply introduce myself. I had been curious about the newest addition to the Bachelor Pad, expecting another single for life business man -- only to be floored when the door opened to reveal a five foot goddess with head full of dark curls and a mouthwatering smile. Her invitation to enter her home was unexpected, but I couldn't turn it down. Only a stupid man would have.

I hadn't expected her to push a plate at me when the food had finished, but was grateful. One, I was starving and two, it smelled delicious. I listened as she spoke in between bites, telling me of her son and her Daddy  both of whom she clearly adored. Her new job and wonderful new bosses, I smiled fondly as I listened to her gush about my cousin and his husband. She didn't speak about a husband and there was no ring on her finger, and believe me I checked. I wanted to ask but considering this was the first time we'd ever really talked, I figured it was too invasive. She chatted on about her love of being in the kitchen, she even went as far as to dub herself a kitchen mouse. After trying that cake, I definitely believed her.

"So," she began, locking the carry lid to the cake stand. "I'm going to send the rest of this home with you since you seemed to enjoy it so much. I also placed a healthy serving of leftovers in a container for you to snack on. I'm not a reheat kinda girl." A blush lit her cheeks and her eyes widened. "I mean, uh, if you want to take-" the uncertainty in her whiskey eyes alarmed me and I rushed in, assuring her that I was grateful to have it. And, I was. Now I didn't have to schlep together two bologna sandwiches for lunch tomorrow. 

We shuffled around awkwardly and finally, I took my leave. I had to force myself not to lean down and brush my mouth against hers as I leaned against the doorjamb once again. With a soft goodbye and light kiss to her cheek, I turned around, kicking myself. 

When I laid down for bed that night, my lips still tingled and I could taste the sweetness of her skin on my tongue.

Maybe Papaw's advice was solid.