Authors: Zena Wynn
“No sense both of us paying parking,” she said, hoping she sounded practical.
“Then I’ll see you at three. Eat or you’ll be late,” he said, gathering up his papers. Cassidy wondered what he was working on. They looked like legal briefs, but to her knowledge, Max no longer practiced.
He was dressed in blue denims and a soft, gray, button-down shirt that brought out the blue in his eyes. Those eyes met hers again. “Three o’clock,” he reiterated.
“I’ll be ready.”
As he left the kitchen, Cassidy had the thought that maybe, just maybe, Max wasn’t as detached as he pretended to be. It gave her hope.
In his room behind closed doors, Max braced his hands on the dresser and breathed deeply. She’d said yes. Cassidy was going to be his wife.
The next couple of days were going to be tricky. She’d agreed, but Max could tell she was still leery of the idea. He couldn’t do anything to spook her.
One step at a time. First, they’d apply for the license. Then, he had to make it through the five day waiting period without Cassidy changing her mind. Once she signed her name on the dotted line, she was his—Mrs. Max Desalvo.
Max played it cool for the next five days. He didn’t pressure Cassidy. He didn’t push. In fact, he stayed out of the way as much as possible. In short, he didn’t do anything that would result in her changing her mind.
Saturday and Sunday passed without incident. He spent most of the time in the basement, preparing the space for the work to be done. While he wasn’t a contractor, he knew how to hang drywall and do simple wiring. After multiple trips to the local home improvement store, Max made sure the walls and ceiling were properly insulated, and not just for heating and cooling, but for sound as well.
Cassidy went about her normal weekend routine. He didn’t ask where she was going when she left the house or show any interest when she returned, though curiosity was burning a hole in him. He tried to be the perfect, unobtrusive roommate.
He cooked breakfast every morning. Not only because he was a breakfast eater, but also because it pleased him to provide this small service to Cassidy. Max paid attention to Zoe’s eating habits without appearing to do so. He wanted to learn his daughter and figured, for now, observation was the tool he’d utilize. When Cassidy was in a better mood, he’d go back to asking questions.
Though she hadn’t said anything, Max knew she wasn’t happy with him or her decision. He thought—hoped—she was too honorable to try to find an out once she’d given her word but wasn’t willing to take any chances. Just like he was learning Zoe, Max watched and learned Cassidy.
She said she’d changed, that she wasn’t the same woman he’d been before. Max said bullshit. If anything, Cassidy was even more that woman she’d always been. A little more guarded, maybe, and not as quick to laugh. But otherwise, Cassidy was the same compassionate, lead-with-the-heart, stubborn, sometimes-exasperating female she’d been two years ago. Her body had been damaged and the scars on it spoke of the ordeal she’d been through. She’d matured because of her experiences, but hadn’t he as well?
Deny it all she wanted to, Max knew Cassidy was still the woman for him. The one he’d love for the rest of his life.
The morning of their wedding day dawned crisp, cool, and clear. The time had changed over the weekend, falling back an hour so the sun rose earlier in the eastern sky. By seven-thirty, Max had a hearty breakfast of grits, eggs, bacon, sausage, and biscuits on the table, along with coffee, juice, and applesauce and Cheerios for Zoe.
Some of it was nervous energy. Mostly he wanted today to be as special for his ladies as it was for him. No, Cassidy wouldn’t be donning a fancy gown and walking down a crowded church aisle filled with their family and friends to meet him at the altar. Max didn’t need it, and to be honest, didn’t want it.
She’d had all that with Phillip. Max knew how beautiful she looked, dressed in a fancy white gown with her gorgeous, long hair piled on top of her head. He knew how her face glowed with love and a hint of nerves as she locked gazes with the object of her affection on what would be the first day of their new lives together. He’d been standing there at the altar next to Phillip as his best man all those years ago as Cassidy’s father escorted her to her groom and gave her away.
Call him selfish, but Max didn’t want any reminders of that previous marriage today. This was his, Cassidy, and Zoe’s day. The first day of the rest of their human lives as a family. So, with a bought of cheerful determination, he decided they’d start the day as he hoped it would continue.
Cassidy, still dressed in her robe, came into the kitchen with Zoe, attired in the footed pajamas she wore to bed, trailing behind. “Something smells good.”
“Have a seat and I’ll serve you,” he said, tossing the dish towel over one shoulder.
“You don’t have to do that, Max,” she protested.
Smiling gently, he crossed over and held out her chair for her to sit. “Please?”
Watching him warily, she did as he bid. “You’re in a good mood this morning,” she observed.
He took her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss on it. “Today is our wedding day. I’m happy and want to share my joy. Unless you’ve changed your mind?” Max paused, waiting until she shook her head. Exhaling a breath of relief, he released her hand and bent, holding out his arms to Zoe. Her big blue eyes gazed at him, seeming to measure him, but she lifted her arms, giving him permission to pick her up. Max gathered her close and planted a kiss on her forehead before setting her in her high chair. Cassidy hadn’t changed her mind and his daughter had allowed him to pick her up. Today was shaping up to be a magnificent day.
He placed the food on the table and came and sat. “When we leave the courthouse, if you don’t mind, I’ve arranged for us to go to a photography studio and take family portraits. My face should have healed enough for the camera, but if not, I’d still like to have pictures of you and Zoe.”
Cassidy paused, spoon full of eggs mid-air. “Pictures?” Suddenly she looked stricken. “Oh, Max! I’m so sorry. I didn’t think.” She dropped the spoon into the bowl and bolted from the table, shouting, “Be right back,” over her shoulder.
Max gazed after her rapidly retreating form. What had he said to set her off this time?