Sherryl Woods - The Calamity Janes - Cassie & Karen - Do You Take This Rebel?

Clearly sensing a powerful ally, Jake nodded eagerly. “I’ll get permission next time.”

“Not likely,” Cassie muttered. She leveled a stern look at Jake. “There will not be a next time, period. End of discussion.”

Cole stared at her, curious about what had infuriated her so much. Was it Jake’s disobedience? Panic over what could have happened to a kid out hitchhiking, even in this relatively safe community?

Or did it specifically have to do with him? This was the second time he’d gotten the feeling she didn’t want him spending time with her son.

There could be any number of reasons for that, of course. A lot of responsible single mothers tried to keep some distance between their children and the men in their lives, at least until they knew if the relationship was going to lead somewhere. That didn’t seem to apply here, since he and Cassie weren’t exactly having a relationship and she’d stated quite clearly that she didn’t intend for that to change.

Maybe it was just a case of protecting the boy from being disappointed by a man who had disappointed her in the past.

Still trying to figure it out, Cole gave her a penetrating look, but her face was giving away nothing. Because he found that annoying, he deliberately set out to provoke an honest answer out of her.

“What was that you said, Cassie?” he taunted mildly. “Something about there not being a next time?”

She gave him a sweet, completely insincere smile. “That’s right. Jake knows he shouldn’t be bothering you.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Well, I do,” she said, her look meant as a warning that he wasn’t to contradict her. “We have to leave now. Jake, go to the car. I’ll be there in a minute. Cole and I have a few things we need to clear up.”

Cole could hardly wait to hear what those were.

“But, Mom—”

“Go,” she repeated in a way that had her son scrambling from the chair.

Jake skidded to a stop as he reached the door. “Bye, Cole. Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he said, deliberately defying Cassie, his gaze locked with hers.

There was no mistaking the storm brewing in her eyes. He felt a rare spark of anticipation. He’d been itching to get into a good old-fashioned, rip-roaring fight with her for days now. It was the only time she let down those rock-solid defenses of hers. This seemed as good a battle as any, especially since she appeared as eager as he was to start it.

The minute Jake was out of sight, Cassie marched up to the desk, then leaned down until her face was just inches above his. The effect was ruined somewhat by the way her sundress gaped, but she was clearly oblivious to that. She would have been appalled had she known.

“I will not have my son out here, do you understand me?” she snapped. “Where he goes and what he does are my decisions.”

“You are his mother,” he agreed.

She scowled at him, then added, “He is my son and my responsibility.”

“No question about that,” he said, then locked gazes with her. “Where’s his father? How much say does he have in things?” He’d let that issue pass once before, but he’d concluded it was time to get it out in the open.

Dismay flickered briefly in her eyes, then vanished. “None of your business. All you need to know is that when it comes to Jake, I make the rules.” She shook her head, regarding him with evident distaste. “I can’t understand how I overlooked this years ago. You Davis men are all alike.”

He stared at her, startled by the very real venom in her voice. Clearly he’d missed something. “What the hell does that mean?” he demanded. “Does this have something to do with the argument you and my father were having out there in the hall?”

Something that might have been panic registered in her expression for just an instant, long enough to betray the fact that she wasn’t nearly as calm as she pretended to be when she shrugged. Then that cool mask he’d come to hate slid back into place.

“Just a difference of opinion,” she said mildly.

“About?”

“I don’t want to get into it now.”

“I do.”

“Then this will be just one more instance in life when you don’t get what you want. Get used to it,” she said.

The woman had developed a lot of spunk over the years; he had to give her that. Back when they’d been dating, she had been all brash bravado. Few people had ever seen past it to the vulnerable girl inside. Cole had. Now, though, her feistiness ran deeper, carried more conviction and self-confidence.

Still, he couldn’t seem to shake the memory of that tiny, fleeting glimpse of fear he’d caught earlier.

“I’m sorry if my father said something to upset you,” he offered, treading carefully, still hoping to get an honest explanation.

“He didn’t,” she insisted. “Your father doesn’t scare me. He never has.”

“But he tried to,” Cole guessed. What he couldn’t understand was why his father would do such a thing. For days now he’d been doing everything in his power to bring the two of them together. Was he just trying a different tactic with Cassie? Maybe a little reverse psychology, since his blatant scheming obviously hadn’t worked on Cole?

“I have to go,” Cassie said, ignoring his question. “I need to get out there to Jake before he gets it into his head to hitchhike back home.”

“I imagine my father’s keeping him company.”

The color drained out of her face at that. “All the more reason for me to go. I don’t want him influencing Jake in any way.”

“Are you suggesting he did a lousy job with me?” Cole said.

She shrugged. “If the shoe fits...” Her expression turned intense. “I meant what I said earlier, Cole, I don’t want Jake out here. And I don’t want you encouraging him to come. Are we clear about that?”

Her implication—that he and his father were somehow lousy role models for her son—grated. Added to the heat and tension that swirled in the air every time he and Cassie got together, it was more than Cole could take. He was overcome by a need to do something about it, to rattle her so badly she would lose that distant, disdainful expression.

Before he could consider the ramifications, he reached out and hauled her into his lap and settled his mouth over hers, muffling her gasp of protest.

She tasted of cinnamon and maybe a lingering hint of mint. Her lips were as soft as he’d remembered, if not nearly as willing as they had been even the other day at the picnic. She struggled in his arms, bit down on his lower lip. He winced at the taste of blood, became more determined than ever to tame her, to remind her of the way she had once melted in his arms.

He framed her face with his hands, looked long and deep into her flashing eyes, waited for the anger to die, then slanted his mouth over hers once more.

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