How Cassie Got Her Grind Back by Heather Rainier Page A

her.
    “Cassie.” Ivan stroked the top of her hand. “You remember Mom had peach trees, right?”
    She blinked and then smiled. “Interesting change in subject, but yes, I do.”
    “She loves feeding people, just like you. In the dead of summer, she’d take her bucket into our orchard and come back with it filled full of peaches so ripe the juice was practically seeping through the skins. Another hour and they’d have fallen from the trees and been no good for anything but the wildlife. She’d come back, a little sunburnt and windblown, with bees buzzing all around her. She’d take a bath to cool down, and when she was done, she’d peel, pit, and slice those peaches and then leave them to simmer on low, low heat while she got supper ready. The scent of those simmering peaches would make my mouth water something fierce.”
    He chuckled when he heard Samson swallow. “Is there a point to this story, or are you just trying to make me hungry?”
    “Yes, let me finish.”
    Cassie took a sip of her drink when Samson slid it closer to her. “You were saying?”
    “She’d roll out pie crust dough and take those nearly ruined peaches anyone else would think were past their prime, and she’d make a peach cobbler out of them. You’d take a bite, and it didn’t just make your mouth water or your taste buds twang. It pulled at something much deeper, almost…painful the flavor was so good. To this day, I’ve never been able to replicate it and never tasted anything else like it. Mom saw the value inside those peaches, and she could bring out that beauty because she understood timing and when to make her move.”
    Samson nodded and grinned at him and remained silent, as if giving him the go-ahead.
    “Cassie, I know you’re probably surprised by what we’ve told you, and you’re worried about all the reasons you think you’re not what we want or need, but we know what we’re asking—and who.”
    A little furrow formed between her brows as she gazed at him, and he couldn’t look away from her beautiful, intense eyes. “Women my age, with my issues, sometimes have trouble with…things that aren’t a problem for younger women.”
    “You mean with sex?” Samson asked as he leaned toward her, not wanting their conversation to be overheard.
    She gave a barely perceptible nod, and her eyes widened. “I get the impression sex with two men is hot, like off-the-charts kind of hot, and that there’s lots of it, which might be difficult…and extra stuff like…” She put her hand to her lips and darted her eyes around. “Anal?”
    “There can be,” Ivan said, noticing the way she squirmed in her seat. He didn’t want her to be apprehensive, but the dark flush in her cheeks and the smile she hid with her hand said that wasn’t an issue. “And you’re worried about anal?”
    “ Yes , but I’m also trying to tell you my meter is ticking and the shelf life for stuff like that would be much longer with a younger woman.”
    “But she’s not you. And all the sex is consensual, Cassandra,” Samson murmured. “It’s you we want. Not just sex with you. Hell, if all you could handle was sex with one of us per night, that would be fine, although I’d prefer sleeping with you snuggled up to me every night—”
    She held up a finger. “Can we back up for just one minute?”
    “Sure.”
    She sipped her drink, and there was a fine tremble in her hands as she set the glass back on the table. “I haven’t agreed to date anyone, much less agreed to a sexual relationship. You both live in Morehead, and I’m not moving away from Divine or giving up Divine Drip. I love my shop and Divine. The two of you profess to hate this town, though after what happened, you can’t be blamed for how you feel.
    “The real issue isn’t whether I’m capable of taking on the two of you but whether all of it would work logistically. And it wouldn’t hurt if one or both of you told me how you feel , either,” she added with a