Resisting Cassidy (A Forbidden Romance)

Cassidy

As the only girl, the youngest one to boot, growing up with six brothers, I had it easy. Sure they cajoled me, teased me and argued with me, but my brothers always had my back. But I was stubborn.

I wanted to be tough on my own. One time in Grade two, a boy had pushed me off the swing. I went flying out and landed face first on the ground. My first instinct was to cry but I pushed off the ground, wiped the blood that trickled from my busted lip and jumped at the boy. He was two years older than me, taller, bigger. But I pummelled him, my fists flew out, hitting whatever I could.

Soon after my first hits landed, hands wrapped around me and pulled me off him. It was Jason. He had seen everything happen. He told me to go home, wash my face and treat the cut. I fumed and hissed but he had been so much older. When I continued to refuse, he'd asked Tate to bring me home and make sure my parents didn't know I'd been in a one-sided fight.

Tate rushed me home, found a first aid kit while I washed my face. He came back in the bathroom, sat me down on the closed toilet and treated my wounds. He didn't say much. He was gentle. I knew then he'd be a great doctor and told him as much. He smiled at me. I knew then that I liked him. A lot. But not in a weird gross way. He was much older and what did I know about crushes and puppy loves then? He mussed up my hair and told me never to fight boys again. I listened because it was him who had said it.

Looking back now, I realized that hadn't been a request. It had been an order.

Jason showed up and when Mom saw my cut lip, he told her I'd fallen off the swing. Not exactly a lie, not the complete truth either. I learned later he'd told the kid to never touch me again. And he'd told him to tell all his friends, all the boys at school that if ever anyone put a finger on his little sister, they'd have him (and all my brothers) to contend with. Boys avoided me like a plague for years. Girls too, except for Chelsea because she didn't care.

Then high school came and I turned pretty. Boys still avoided me, even more than before. Until Brandon asked me out. He'd somehow became a hero to others after that. I just saw him as a boy who'd wanted to kiss me. But he'd avoided my brothers, Jason especially. When we broke up, he'd asked me to not sic my brothers at him. I laughed and told him I didn't need them to fight my fights. It turned out, I sometimes did.

When I smelled trouble, I called one of them. It was a rare thing. I stayed away from trouble, but it didn't mean trouble didn't find me.

After Tate peeled out of the beach parking lot, I called Jason and told him what I'd witnessed. He'd been out with Marianne and his boys. He'd told me to get to Tate's and look after Maddy and he'd take care of everything. Jason was my nicest, kindest brother. He'd been married forever and so friggin in love with his wife that it boggled me how he could stand being a divorce lawyer. But I'd also seen him in action, defending his clients.

He was cool and collected dealing with Cindy outside the house. And I knew he'd keep that chill attitude when he went inside with her too. Jason didn't fight with fists. He fought with words. He could easily destroy anyone with so few words.

When Cindy came out with her luggage, looking all pretty and prim, smiling like a Cheshire Cat, I caught the fear in Tate's eyes. He turned to me with so much apology written in his face. His lips were flat. His face pale. He looked older than he was. He looked down to Maddy in my arms, then back to me, spreading his hand on the window again. I wanted to reach out and hold his hand. Intertwine our fingers. Fight with him. Face the truth with him. Let him know I was here for him and Maddy. He mouthed stay. He'd probably meant stay in the car, but with the intensity in his gaze, and the dread creeping to his face, I almost felt like he was asking me to stay with him no matter what was about to happen. I nodded, not sure which I'd agreed to.