she thought, suddenly remembering the time she’d stopped off at Gran’s after drinking the bridal shower punch. Was she drunk? Shoot.
“Get a plate of food and a bottle of water. And when you’re finished eating, go home. That’s the plan.”
It would have been a good plan, too, if Cain hadn’t been standing just outside the ladies’ room door waiting for her.
As it was, she didn’t expect anyone to be standing just outside the restroom, so she plowed into his chest when she exited. Suddenly engulfed in his familiar smell, an ache started in her heart that hurt so much, her breath caught.
“Cain,” she sighed, her voice almost a purr.
“Ginger,” he said in a much less besotted tone, steadying her by putting his hands on her upper arms.
She finally exhaled and took another breath, bracing herself before lifting her eyes. His ice-blue eyes, which she’d known since her earliest days, which she still saw every night in her dreams, seized hers, searching them, unblinking. She heard the small gasp he made, felt the pressure of his fingers around her arms increase. But then he jerked his hands away from her like they were on fire and narrowed those cold eyes to slits.
“What do you want?” she asked, stepping away from him, back against the bathroom door.
“I thought we should get this over with.”
“Get what over with?”
“Let’s just say hello and agree to be civil,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “For Woodman’s sake.”
There were a million insults and put-downs winging through her fuzzy head, but the reality was that his words were well chosen, and they resonated. As far back as she could recall, Cain had never set out to purposely hurt Woodman. And Ginger knew, from the look in Cain’s eyes, that whatever affection he bore his cousin was as strong and solid as ever.
Civility for Woodman’s sake.
“Fine,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.
“Fine,” he answered with an edge in his voice, still standing before her with his arms crossed.
It was the very definition of a standoff, she thought—neither of them looking away, neither making a move to leave.
She reached for her arm and rubbed it meaningfully. “Don’t ever touch me again.”
“No problem,” he sneered, his mouth a thin slash of disgust.
The last time she’d seen him, he’d called her a “cock-teasin’ bitch,” and apparently his opinion of her hadn’t changed since. Still, his words felt like a slap and hurt just as much, but she lifted her chin and remained impassive, refusing to let him know he affected her at all.
“Great,” she said. “Hello, Cain. Goodbye, Cain. Civil enough for you?”
She edged around him and walked away, ignoring the trembling of her fingers and raging thunder of her heart.
“Ginger,” he said in a voice so low and lethal, it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She stopped. But she didn’t turn around. “He deserves better than you.”
She flinched, cringing at the hateful tone he used. But her anger at him—seething and raw—rose up within her and she whipped around to face him.
“How dare you! What gives you the right to judge me? To . . . to even speak to me! Who do you think you are, coming back here and—”
“Who am I?” He covered the distance between them in two long strides, his eyes almost white with fury. “Last time I checked, you were pourin’ out your heart to me, offerin’ your pussy to me like a little slut, and then . . . then you—”
“You rejected me, Cain! You told me to fuck off!”
He pointed his finger at her. “I never used those words. And I had my reaso—”
“I don’t care about your goddamned reasons! You made me feel like trash for bein’ honest, and I hate you for it, Ca—”
“Woman, are you pure crazy? You hate me? You were the one who left that barn and marched straight—”
Suddenly the lobby door opened, and they both turned to find Woodman just inside the firehouse, staring back and forth between them. Ginger had her hands on her hips, and Cain still had his index finger jabbed in her face.
“What the hell is goin’ on here?”
Ginger blinked rapidly, stepping away from Cain and staring down at the floor.
“Cain?” Woodman said.
He exhaled shakily but somehow managed to keep his voice level. “Nothin’, cuz. Just . . . catchin’ up.”
Ginger flicked a glance up at Cain, annoyed to find him mostly composed but for two bright spots of red in his