Chapter 6 "Nick! Grab the door please!" His Dad yells from upstairs. Unfolding himself from the couch, Nick heads for the door shoving his phone into his pocket. Through the window he sees Cassie standing outside, and he swings open the door. "You don't have to ring the bell, you know." He steps out of the doorway, heading back into the living room. "Dad! Cassie's here!" He yells, flopping back down on the couch. Cassie closes the door behind her, following Nick into the living room. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to just walk in." Nick shrugs. "You're not exactly a guest, Cassie. You and my Dad are dating." She nods. "Well in that case, know that you can do the same at Grey House." Nick gives her a sheepish look. "I kinda already do….Grace said it was alright." She smiles, happy that he and Grace are such good friends. "I'm glad you feel comfortable to do so….I came by hoping that you could help me with something?" "Sure." "I want to plan a special dinner for your Dad, and I was hoping you could help me with some of his favourite dishes." "Easy: chicken Alfredo, yellow cake with chocolate frosting….do you want to do it here? Grace and I are working on our trig assignment later over at your place; you guys could have the house to yourselves?" She's a little surprised at how easy going he is about all of this. "You don't mind?" He breaks out into his signature crooked grin. "Beats walking in on you two making out in the kitchen," he teases. Laughing, she offers him a sympathetic look. "That's fair." Sam makes his way downstairs, his shoes heavy on the hardwood. He's doing his tie, his jacket slung over his arm. "Hey." "Hey," she greets back. "Are you heading out?" He nods, tossing his coat on the arm of the couch. "Yeah, I've got a meeting at the hospital." Without a mirror, he's got his tie uneven, and he unties it, tying it again. "What are you doing later?" Rising from her seat, she goes to him taking the tie from him. She folds it under his collar. "Not sure yet," she answers casually. "I'm going to go now," Nick announces. "Before you two…you know," he jokes. Sam shakes his head at his son. "I'll see you later!" "Yep!" Nick calls after him, taking the stairs two at time up to his room. "I didn't think he'd be this uncomfortable," he comments. She takes her time with his tie. "He's a teenager, Sam," she laughs lightly. "Everything you do is going to be awkward and weird to him…I think he just likes to tease us." "That would be something he would do," Sam agrees. Straightening the knot, she admires her work. She loves this particular tie and the way it makes his eyes brilliantly blue. His arms slide around her waist and she steps into him, landing into his chest. "What are you doing later?" She questions back. "Not sure yet…I was hoping to see you." "I was hoping to see you too." "Yeah?" She smiles. "Yeah." Pulling away, he grabs his jacket, slipping into it. "I'll call you later then?" Taking hold of his tie, she tugs him back towards her. Mating her lips to his, she nods. "Do that." He kisses her back gently and as he pulls back, the words form, but fall unspoken between them. He holds her gaze for a minute and it's there, all in his eyes, and she waits with bated breath. "….I better go." Exhaling, she nods with a smile. "Of course. I'll see you later." . . . . . . . . . . . . His gaze may be on the file in front of him but his attention is elsewhere, currently trying to analyze the feelings that have caught him completely off guard. He had almost said it. I love you. He rubs his forehead, trying to concentrate. He can count on one hand the women he has said those words too and looking back on it now, he's not entirely sure if he understood the magnitude of them then because this feels different. The words were there, on their own and it had felt natural. Right. Was it too soon? It had to be. They had only been dating a few weeks, but yet he has felt connected to Cassie almost immediately since moving to Middleton. He smiles to himself, quickly trying to hide it as he steeples his hands at his mouth. Seeing her with Ryan never sat well with him, and even though he had never acknowledged it then, he can recognize it now for what it was; he was jealous. When he had found out he was behind her potentially loosing Bell, Book and Candle, it took every fibre of his being to not confront him. With John he had felt as if he was in constant competition for her friendship. At least that's what he had told himself. He loved her then. Rubbing his face, he exhales audibly. "Dr. Radford, are you alright?" He refocuses on the meeting carrying on around him. "I'm fine, please, continue." . . . . . . . . . . . . She's just pulling the cake from the oven when she hears him making his way through the front door. His keys clatter in the bowl in the hallway, his briefcase dropping with a thud on the floor. "Nick, are you baking?" He calls. As he enters the kitchen loosening his tie, he stops short at the sight of her. "Cassie," he greets, surprised. "Hi. How was your meeting?" Approaching the island, he leans against it. "Long…is that yellow cake?" The smile reaches his eyes and she gives him a coy one of her own. "Maybe." He takes stock of his kitchen, the pasta boiling on the stove, the chicken browning in the cast iron pan he's sure he doesn't own himself. "Are you making Chicken Alfredo?" "I might be," she smiles. "Any particular reason why?" He presses. Wiping her hands, she circles the island, leaning against it next to him. "There have been…a lot of things that I've been unsure of the past few weeks, and that's something I'm not used to," she begins. "…and you've been, so steady and so reassuring." He reaches out, rubbing her arm gently. His touch ignites gently on her skin and she recognizes the familiar burn in the pit of her stomach, the awakening it's caused inside of her. It's the sureness in which he soothes her, the warmth and weight of his hands that steady her when her thoughts are scattered. "I wanted to do something to show you how much that's meant to me." As he holds her gaze, she's certain of the feelings that are settling inside of her. The ones that she's felt for a while now. His hand slides down to take her own in his. "I appreciate it, I do, but I want you to know that you don't have to thank me, and you don't have to have it all together with me; you can let me carry the load sometimes, Cassie. " She's never thought herself to be a hesitant person, especially when it came to her own feelings, but she feels it now. After Jake had died she had told herself that she wouldn't close herself off, that she would open herself up that way again when the opportunity presented itself. She's gotten used to baring it all herself. "Noted," she says softly. He gives her a reassuring look before changing the subject. "How long until it's ready? I want to grab a quick shower." "You've got time." His gaze holds hers for a brief second before he pecks her quickly on the lips, heading upstairs. . . . . . . . . . . . . When he finally returns to the kitchen, she's just finished plating the pasta. The remnants of his shower linger with him and she inhales the alluring smell she's come to recognize and find comfort in. "Perfect timing," he comments, pushing the sleeves of his sweater to his forearms. Sam can carry a suit, and surprisingly, scrubs, but there's something about the way he dresses down. As much as being a doctor is a part of him, she's certain he's always been meant to live in a small town like Middleton. Sporting a pair of jeans and a simple sweater, she takes a minute to just appreciate him. His shoulders are broad and his arms sculpted, but she loves his hands. The whether from years of scrubbing in. The strength and skill they wield on a daily bases. The way their presence lingers across her skin. He grabs the glasses and the bottle of wine from the counter, pouring them each a glass before pulling out her chair. She sits and he tucks the chair in under her before taking his own seat across from her. "This looks great, Cassie." She folds her napkin into her lap, taking a sip of her wine. "Here's hoping it tastes as good." He gives her a look. "You're an excellent cook, unlike me." He takes his first bite, savouring it. "So, where is Nick?" "Oh, he's next door with Grace; they had a trigonometry assignment they were working on." "Nick chose trig over this?" He questions, taking another bite. Using a fork and spoon, she twirls a forkful of her own pasta. "He actually offered to give us the evening alone." Sam pauses, his eyebrows shooting up. "He did?" She nods, taking a bite. He reaches for his glass, taking a sip. "How were things at Bell Book today?" "Great; Tara did such a fantastic job taking over yesterday. She's such a great help. How was your meeting? You never said what it was about." He takes a minute to chew. "You know how we've been searching for a new cardiologist?" She nods. "Well, the recruitment team thinks they might have found someone." "That's great!" He bops his head back and forth. "She's not sold on Middleton yet….the board actually wants me to show her around when she gets here at the end of the week." "I think that's a great idea, Sam. I can't think of anyone better." "You, maybe?" He counters with a smile. "I don't know if I can sell this place, Cassie…she's young and single; Middleton isn't exactly up and coming." She twirls more pasta onto her fork. "Well, I think Middleton just might be what she's looking for." "Maybe. Who knows." . . . . . . . . . . . . He's just finished loading the dishwasher, and he grabs the bottle of wine off the table heading into his living room. She's made herself comfortable on the couch and he likes the sight of her in his space like this. He refills both their glasses before settling in beside her. "Dinner was fantastic. Thank you." She angles her body in towards him and he rests a hand on her thigh. "You're welcome," she says softly. It may be the wine, but her eyes have softened to a smooth chocolate. They're more settled than he's seen the past few days and that familiar sparkle has turned to a soft ember. "So I was thinking." "What about?" "The potential new cardiologist. Do you have any rooms available at Grey House?" "I do at the end of the week. She's more than welcome to have a room." He settles back into the couch, taking a sip of his wine. "I don't know how to convince her that Middleton is the right place for her." Her hand interlaces with his at her thigh, and she rests her head on his shoulder. "What was it that convinced you?" "Besides Martha's Pumpkin Pie?" She laughs. "Besides that." He presses his lips to the top of her head. "You." It's a minute before her head lifts from his shoulder and her gaze meets his. "You're what convinced me." "Me?" "You," he repeats, nodding his head. Her gaze is expectant and he opens his mouth, only the words don't come. "DAD!" She unfurls from him just as Nick barrels into the living room, Grace, Brandon and Derek right behind him. "What's wrong?" She questions. "It's the Bell Book," Grace blurts, looking over at Brandon. "Brandon?"Cassie prompts. Brandon shifts on his feet. "It's been vandalized." He rises from the couch just as she does. "How bad?" Brandon looks down, and Derek clears his throat. "It's extensive," he answers. . . . . . . . . . . . . The car is silent as he pulls up behind the police cruiser in front of the Bell, Book and Candle. He hasn't come to a full stop when she opens the passenger door, climbing out. As he circles the car, the full scope of the damage slams into him. The store windows have been smashed, the front door dangling precariously on its hinges. Black spray paint covers the store front in bold, repeating script. Fraud. Lair. Thief. He can't read anymore as his blood boils. There's police tape blocking off the entrance, but she ignores it and Dereks protests as she ducks underneath it and inside. He does the same and the broken glass crunches under his feet. There's not much to salvage inside. "Cassie, this is an official crime scene," Derek begins gently. "You can't touch anything." She nods silently, the tears welling in her eyes. He can feel the weight of her pain filling what's left of her shop, and he turns towards Brandon and Derek. "Could you give us a minute?" They both nod, stepping outside again. He steps over broken vases and glasses, standing beside her. Sliding his hand up her back, he settles at the nape of her neck, pressing his lips to the side of her head. "Let me carry this, Cassie," he whispers. She turns into him and he cradles her in his arms, holding her together as she falls apart. tbc.