“I don’t know. Only you know. You knew my name before I even gave it to you.”
“Still haven’t given it to me.”
“That’s right, I haven’t. But somehow you know it. You know where I work, and I just started here.”
“Just coincidence.”
Cassie dropped her head slightly and stared straight into those green eyes. “Bullshit.”
His lips twitched slightly before he pinned them together.
What the hell was he hiding?
Probably no more than she was.
Damn.
“Beer?” She didn’t wait for his answer and spun on her heel to head back to the bar.
A few minutes later, she returned, mentally cursing the tremble in her hand as she placed the full glass down in front of him. She avoided his eyes. “Would you like to start a tab?”
As her fingers slid from the cold glass, he snagged them, making her gasp.
“Still afraid of me?”
It was no longer fear but more like worry he might know things about her that he shouldn’t. He might know where she’d come from and why she’d shown up in this town. Why she’d been running away. Possibly even from whom.
“No.”
His fingers were warm, long and strong as they held hers. But when his thumb brushed over the spot where her wedding ring used to be, ice slid down her spine and her breathing became hitched. It was like a ghost had walked straight through her.
She yanked her hand, but he didn’t release it. “Let me go,” she whispered, the shake in her words now unmistakable.
Did he somehow know she used to be married? Was it the same way he knew her name?
Who was he and why was he interested in her?
This wasn’t just a man interested in a woman. This was more.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood.
His thumb slid over the spot on her ring finger again. She stared at the slow, precise motion. That little movement was him asking a silent question and he was hoping her finger would give him an unspoken answer.
No indication remained that she used to wear a ring. None. Her wedding ring had been gone long enough that no indentation was left. Her finger showed no evidence of her marriage at all.
None.
However, what kept her still tied to Dennis was his financial and criminal mess. And Daisy, of course.
Hopefully soon it would only be their daughter.
She just needed him to sign the damn divorce papers so she could be free. Problem was, the attorney had stopped looking for him. With their assets frozen, she no longer could pay him. Not only couldn’t her attorney locate Dennis, neither could Dennis’s.
She was told he’d skipped bond.
Which meant this whole thing would be dragged out longer than it should.
Even if she wanted to find him on her own, she couldn’t. She had no funds to do so. She couldn’t pay her attorney. She couldn’t hire an investigator to find Dennis. She was in limbo.
Right now, she was hating with every fiber of her being the man she used to love. If he showed up, she’d kick him right in the damn balls for all the problems he’d caused her. For deceiving her. For betraying his family.
Husbands who loved their wives and children did not do the things he did. He should have walked away, or sought out help, when issues began to arise. Not dragged his family into it with him.
If he had loved them, that was what he should have done.
Which proved the only person he’d loved was himself.
He could’ve saved her and Daisy. He chose not to. He chose to keep her in the dark.
Until it was too late.
He finally released her hand. “Where’s your ring?”
Her heart stuttered. She wasn’t sure whether it was from his question or from that deep voice.
But either way, that simple question didn’t have a simple answer.
And that answer wasn’t one she was willing to share.
Chapter Seven
Judge watched her face carefully as the blood rushed from it and she pulled the hand he’d released into a ball against her chest.
Like it had been singed.
Like his touch had burned her.
Her throat worked and his eyes followed the movement. He wanted to taste her there. Scrape his teeth along that delicate line. Groan against it when he came deep inside her. Grip his fingers around it as he stole the breath from her with his mouth.
That throat belonged to another man. But he wanted it to be his.
He wanted to be the only one to touch it.
He wanted it to be the “property of Judge.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He jerked his head toward her curled up left hand, still held tightly against her chest as it rose and fell at a quick pace. “Your weddin’ ring.”
The pulse in that throat, the one he wanted to make his, pounded so hard, he could see it. “Where is it? Why aren’t you wearin’ it?”
“I’m... I’m not sure who you are, or who you think you are. Or even why you know...” She squeezed her eyes shut and dropped her hands to her sides, pressing them against her thighs. When her blue eyes opened, they seared him. “If you want a beer, I’ll serve you a beer. But that’s it. Just wave me down when you need something.”
As she turned, he simply said her name. “Cassie.” She froze in place. “We need to talk.”
She turned her head, glancing at him over her shoulder. “No, we don’t. Please sit at the bar and let Dodge serve you.”
“Not here to drink.” Which was true. He could drink at The Barn for free. Hell, he could knock a few back out in the courtyard or in his apartment. Or even burn a fatty in peace at the farm.
But that was not why he was there. He also shouldn’t blow his cover. He didn’t need Cassie telling Lange that someone was looking for him in Manning Grove. That would screw his chance at that twenty percent.
Though, suddenly it was no longer about the money.
And the reason it wasn’t was because she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring.
Not just that, but because there was no mark where a ring would be.
It hadn’t been taken off recently.
It had been gone for a while.
It had taken some time before any sign of his own wedding band had disappeared. The ring he’d been forced to wear even though he hated most jewelry. He’d only worn it to keep the peace.
But that ring had left a mark.
In more ways than one.
“Why are you here, then?”
“To get to know you.” That wasn’t a lie.
“I’m not interested.”
He tilted his head and let his gaze run over her from the top of her blonde head to her booted toe. “Kinda gettin’ that.”
“Then you can be a gentleman and respect that.”
One side of his mouth curled up and he stroked his beard. “Oh, baby, I’m no fuckin’ gentleman.”
A flush rose into her cheeks and her mouth flattened. “Call me if you need me.” She turned her head and began to head back to the bar again.
“Cassie,” he called out, making her freeze once more. This time she didn’t look back.
He rose from his chair, pulled a wrinkled ten from his front pocket and approached her.
When he stepped behind her—not touching, but close enough to feel each other’s heat—her spine snapped straight. He leaned down and put his mouth near her ear, murmuring, “Said call you if I need you.” He tucked the ten into a pocket of the little black apron wrapped around her waist.