Melt Your Heart
Chapter 42: January Friend
After the brightness of Christmas, January started grey and gloomy as it often does. Even the snow had stopped falling and what remained had been churned into dirty brown slush at the sides of the roads.
It should have been a miserable time of year, but Cassie Nightingale was happy.
Every day, after she dropped the twins off at school, she would pick up a steaming cup of tea from Stephanie's and take it to her shop with her. Calling it a shop was still an optimistic description, but Cassie was feeling upbeat so she continued to do so. And she liked having something that was just hers.
She didn't even mind too much when Ryan came by for the occasional visit, surveying the work she was doing with a critical but unprofessional eye. God forbid he ever pitched in and offered to help, though. His chivalry only knew certain bounds, though he had stopped asking if, and when, she was going to hire a crew.
Even if Cassie had the funds for that, she wanted to do the work herself. She liked how physically strong it was making her and, when it was finished, she would be able to proudly look around at something she'd made all by herself.
She minded even less when Sam decided to drop by. She enjoyed the way he looked at her progress with a keen eye, making suggestions that more often than not she took on board because she trusted his opinion and knew he was speaking from experience. He never looked at her in disgust when her sweaty hair was dishevelled and pulled back in a messy knot, or when her threadbare plaid shirt was splattered with varnish or grease.
Sam wouldn't tell her so, but he kind of liked seeing her like this. She looked so different from her usual perfectly, polished self, and he found her equally as irresistible in ripped jeans and a dirty vest.
They were doing pretty well at this whole friendship thing, and he intended to keep it that way. The interruption on Christmas Day had served as a wake-up call to both of them.
Now just wasn't the right time.
"When you're finished in here, there's a lovely property on the other end of Main Street that could use some work," he suggested when he arrived at Cassie's shop on the second Thursday in January, still dressed in his work outfit and carrying two takeaway cups from The Bistro along with a bag of blueberry Danishes.
"Ha, that's funny," Cassie quipped from the other end of the building where she was removing the rotten wooden door that separated the back room from the rest of the property.
"You've got the contractor look down," he said, stepping further into the space and setting down his haul on the rough wooden table in the middle. "All you need now is a tool belt."
"Santa didn't bring me one, unfortunately," she replied, wanting to loosen the final stubborn screw before she took a break but the smell wafting from the paper-bag was distracting her. There was nothing like Stephanie's pastries.
"I guess you weren't so good after all," Sam said, throwing it back to the afternoon of the Middleton Christmas pageant, and belatedly realising that it was a mistake to bring that up again when they were essentially alone. It wasn't like they were going to make out when any passing Middletonian had a front row view, but still, they'd mostly avoided being alone together since their almost kiss on Christmas Day.
"I suppose not," Cassie replied, cheering quietly as the final bolt came loose and she was able to carefully remove the door from its hinges. "But I do deserve a break."
"Your wish is my command," Sam replied, holding out the beaker of tea to her. She sniffed gratefully, inhaling her favourite blend. Ryan had a habit of bringing her coffee, even though she'd mentioned on several occasions that she didn't do caffeine.
"Thank you," she said, sighing gratefully as she removed the lid and took a restorative sip. Sam was already holding open the bag of pastries. He really was the perfect man.
He waited patiently while Cassie drank her tea and devoured the pastry, averting his eyes when she dusted the flaky crumbs from her chest. Apparently plaid shirts turned him on now, which was new. He absolutely definitely shouldn't be wondering what she had on underneath it, or what her creamy flesh would look like if he popped open the buttons down the front. Or whether it would be more effective to unbutton it slowly, one at a time, or to rip the whole thing down the middle…
"Earth to Sam!"
It was only his lightning reflexes that stopped him upending his still steaming hot coffee into his lap. Perhaps he should have purchased an iced latte instead.
There was amusement in the way she said, and in the way she waved her hand in front of his face, almost like she could read exactly what was going through his mind.
Oh, shit.
Caught in the act, Radford.
"Sorry," he said, concentrating on putting the lid back on his coffee, because better safe than sorry. "It's been an interesting day; my brain isn't firing on all cylinders."
"Sam, it's only eleven o'clock, how interesting can your day have already been?" she asked, a careful mix of playful and concerned.
"I tendered my resignation today," he told her without preamble, meeting her gaze.
"Oh, wow. That's huge. I don't know whether to congratulate you or commiserate with you." Cassie had set her tea down too, so she could give him her full focus. This felt like another moment when their relationship would change and grow again.
He wanted to squeeze her hand, but he'd decided that touching her when it wasn't strictly necessary was not a good idea.
"Thank you," he replied instead. "The hospital didn't take it well."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Cassie said, wanting to reach for his hand equally as badly. She had her own rules on the subject. "But I can see why they wouldn't want to lose you."
"I don't think they're so worried about that," he continued bitterly. "I thought they'd want me to stick around until they found a replacement but, basically, I'm already on my two weeks' notice."
Cassie stared at him open-mouthed. "But there's no way your practice will be up and running by then." She hated to be the one to state the obvious, but she didn't feel like it could go unsaid either.
The building Sam was moving his practice into was certainly in a better state than Cassie's shop, but there was still a lot to do to get it fitted out and ready to be a serious medical establishment.
"I know. For the first time since I was fifteen, I'm going to be unemployed for a while." Sam was still trying to wrap his head around that, let alone figure out how he felt about it.
"It's not so bad," Cassie reassured him with a smile.
"Oh, please," he protested. "You're hardly unemployed. You run a B&B, you help Abigail in the flower shop, you're a full time single mom to two wonderful kids…"
Cassie smiled, flattered by the force with which Sam was defending her.
She lowered her voice to a stage whisper. "No one pays me for those things, Doctor Radford."
He wished she wouldn't call him that, because it made him think of stethoscopes and hospital gowns and careful, thorough physical examinations. She was slowly making it impossible for him to think about anything without making it relate back to her.
"I see your point," he admitted. "Maybe when I'm finished at the hospital, I could give you a hand here. And when we've got this place shipshape, I could pick your brains about my building?"
Cassie nodded slowly. "Yes, I'd like that." She had some reservations about working with him, not because she didn't trust him (no, it was the opposite), but because she wasn't sure how much time she could spend alone with him before she went certifiably insane. At least she knew a good doctor who could make a referral for her.
Sam broke his promise to himself and offered Cassie his hand to shake.
"It's a deal," he said.
Cassie pressed her palm against his and returns the handshake, breaking her own promise not to touch him.
The world didn't blow up, fire didn't rain from the skies, but both of them went about their day with a tingle where their skin had brushed.
It had been almost two weeks since Stephanie's assertion that she was quote done with men end quote, and Abigail had never seen her friend look happier.
"Hey, Abigail!" she called the moment the brunette stepped into the Bistro. "You have to try my new avocado and feta puff pastry tart."
"I…well, okay," Abigail replied, a little baffled. "Wait, feta and avocado?"
"Just trust me," Stephanie assured her, her blue eyes gleaming like a chaotic genius.
"I do," Abigail muttered, following Stephanie through the back to the kitchens. "I do."
"Here," Stephanie said, carving off a piece with her fork and effectively jamming it into Abigail's face.
"I can feed myself you know," Abigail protested. "I've been doing it for a good couple of decades now."
But Stephanie was not to be deterred, so Abigail acquiesced and parted her lips, letting the blonde slide the morsel of her new lunch special into her mouth.
"Oh, okay, that is good," Abigail mumbled around the mouthful of crispy pastry, soft cheese, and the hint of avocado. The surprising deliciousness of the combination distracted Abigail from the intimacy of being fed by someone while the kitchen was strangely completely empty.
She licked her lips, chasing any stray crumbs with her tongue, and saw Stephanie flinch. It might have escaped the notice of anyone else, but Abigail's gifts were back to full power. She did it again, moaning a little, ever so softly, and she dragged the last tastes of the tart into her mouth.
Stephanie finally blinked and turned away, making Abigail think she'd put on too much of a performance. But when Stephanie came back to her, she was offering another forkful of food to her friend.
"Cherry Bakewell cheesecake," Stephanie said, offering the utensil to Abigail a little less forcefully this time.
The pornographic sound that Abigail made when the flavours exploded in her mouth was spontaneous. She'd never tasted anything better.
"Oh my god, that's amazing," she said, desperate to be alone with the rest of the cheesecake. "I think it might be better than sex."
Stephanie chucked even as she blushed. "I know you don't work in marketing anymore, but I might use that to promote this as the daily special."
"Please just don't attribute it to me, I'll never hear the end of it from Martha if I sully this town's good name. Again." Abigail's eye roll was spectacular.
"Is it really that good though?" Stephanie asked, looking over at the remaining cheesecake a little sceptically.
"Oh, yes," Abigail replied, wondering if she could cause some kind of distraction and hot foot it out of the kitchen the remaining cheesecake.
Stephanie forked up some cheesecake for herself, oblivious to the fact the utensil had just been in Abigail's mouth.
Abigail waited until Stephanie had finished sampling her creation and had set the fork down on the surface.
"So, what's your verdict? Better than sex or not?"
"Isn't food - good food anyway - always better than sex?" Stephanie asked.
Abigail smirked. "Depends on the sex, I suppose. But if I had the choice between sex or another piece of your cheesecake, I know which I'd pick."
"Really?" Stephanie asked, with hope and relief.
"Really," Abigail replied. "Now," she said, picking up the fork. "Are you going to let me have another piece or not?"
"How do you and Sam do it?" Abigail asked, flopping down on the couch in their private sitting room after the kids were tucked in for the night.
"Excuse me?" Cassie asked, looking up from a catalogue, her eyes wide.
Abigail chuckled, nearly choking on her hot chocolate. "Sorry, let me rephrase that ."
"Please do."
"How do you and Sam cope with being friends when I catch one of you looking at the other like you want to jump them right then and there at least once a week?"
"We made a pact to stay just friends," Cassie replied. "Is it difficult sometimes, yes? But we both know that it's not the right time to start a relationship."
Abigail huffed out a breath and busied herself with picking a marshmallow out of the whipped cream in her mug.
"Why do you ask?" Cassie pressed when her cousin stayed uncharacteristically silent.
"Oh, no reason," Abigail replied too quickly and too brightly.
"Would this be about Stephanie by any chance?" Cassie asked gently, not wanting to push Abigail into talking about something she wasn't ready to discuss but wanting to give her the chance all the same.
"What do you mean?" Abigail shot out defensively, pushing her drink away and standing to pace the room.
"Well," Cassie began carefully. "She's single now. You're single…" It hadn't taken a genius or a Merriwick to notice that Abigail's impromptu overnight stays away from Grey House had stopped after Stephanie's break up.
"Stephanie dates men," Abigail countered. "I date men."
Cassie shrugged, going back to her magazine. "Sounds like you've got it all worked out, then."
Abigail huffed and threw herself down on the couch again.
"I did date a woman once," she finally said in a quiet voice once the storm of her emotions had passed. "When I lived in New York for a while after college. She broke my heart, and I've only ever dated me since."
"Oh, Abigail," Cassie said, setting aside her magazine and reaching her cousin's hand. "I didn't know that, I'm so sorry."
"I never told anyone, I just packed my things and decided to settle in Middleton. I didn't want to be hurt like that again, so I just date men from time to time, but I don't think I've ever loved one," she squeezed Cassie's hand. "The only man I think I've ever loved who wasn't family is Sam, and probably George, too."
"Good choices," Cassie admitted. "But what are you going to do about Stephanie?"
Abigail sighed. "Nothing. We're just friends, and that's the most she feels about me."
"If you say so," Cassie replied, picking up her catalogue again. It was funny, she thought, as she flicked through the pages of paint samples and wooden panelling, how even with their Merriwick gifts, there will still things they just couldn't see.