The Ranch {16}
An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.
Collaboration: @snelbz x @tacmc
Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.
Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.
The Ranch Masterlist
Cassian stared at the broken window, his hands on his hips. Beau was groaning at his feet, fully aware that something had happened that was total shit. Nesta was cooking breakfast for the guests inside of the B&B. She decided that a daily morning breakfast would be a regular occurrence, and she wanted to make the first morning breakfast a grand occasion.
Even if she hadn’t slept at all the night before.
Every time she drifted off, she was panicking, which meant Cassian had stayed up all night comforting her. Which, he loved doing, loved being there for her, felt it was his duty to be there for her, but none of that erased the fact that he was completely, utterly exhausted.
A truck pulled up behind him and the engine turned off. A few seconds later, Azriel was standing beside him. With a whistle, he said, “Fuck.”
“Yeah,” Cassian breathed. “Just after midnight. Brick flew through the window, Nesta was screaming bloody murder, Beau nearly shot himself out the door and tore his balls off.”
“Maybe he should’ve,” Azriel muttered, stepping closer to the broken window, careful to avoid the glass shards, even though he was wearing his boots. “Tomas did this?”
“Who else would’ve?” Cassian grumbled.
Even Azriel couldn’t argue with that. “Well, let’s put some plastic over it, then I’ll bring you into town to get a new window and help put it in.”
Cassian didn’t have any plastic. If he had, he would have patched it up in the middle of the night. Instead, he had laid a thin piece of plywood over the hole.
“Probably best to just go ahead and get the window,” Cassian said with a yawn.
Azriel nodded and the two of them got in the truck, heading for the main house.
“Aside from that, how was the first night?” He asked, nodding towards the house in front of them.
Cassian blew out a breath. “Good, I think. Nobody called us about anything, but from what I can tell, nothing was done to the house.”
Just Nesta’s small house that the two of them had been occupying.
They parked in front of the big wrap around porch, heading up the stairs. A couple was sitting on porch swing, and they waved as Cassian and Az walked into the house.
There was sound everywhere, people bustling to and fro. It was almost unnerving after the silence of the house for so many months.
“Nes?” He called her name, even though he knew exactly where she was.
“Kitchen!”
Walking into the kitchen, they found the table full, both of food and people in the chairs. Nesta was still at the stove, happily stirring away at a pan of gravy while her guests stuffed themselves.
“Smells great, baby.” He pressed a kiss to her head and she smiled.
Her eyes were lit up. “Thanks. Az, are you hungry?”
“Elain fed me on the way out the door, but I might say no next time.” He was eyeing the spread of classic country breakfast on the table.
Nesta laughed, and turned to Cassian. “What’s up?”
He gently took her hand, rubbing small circles into the back of it. “We gotta go into town. I’m fixing that window today.”
He watched the color leech from her face.
“Please don’t leave me here alone.”
Cassian hesitated.
“It’s fine,” Azriel said, quickly. “Rhys has today off, I’ll pick him up on the way and we’ll get it here. I’ll let you know when we’re back.”
“Are you sure?” Nesta said, suddenly realizing that it took more than one man to get a window into the back of a truck.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Azriel said, with a genuine smile. “And, uh, now that I think about it, maybe I’ll take a biscuit to go?”
Nesta chuckled, although the light didn’t reach her eyes. She wrapped a biscuit in a napkin and handed it over, then Azriel was off.
Cassian looked around at the guests, chatting happily and stuffing their faces.
“You should be proud,” Cassian said, quietly.
Nesta nodded before turning back to the stove.
“I, um, want your blessing on something.”
Nesta froze before looking at him over her shoulder.
“Maybe we should talk alone,” Cassian went on.
She turned to look at him. “My blessing for what?”
Cassian hesitated, then sighed. “I want to go talk to Tomas.”
“No.” Nesta turned back to the stove.
Cassian gave her a look before walking away, into the laundry room that was off to the side, knowing full well she would follow. Nesta Archeron did not leave conversations unresolved.
She closed the door behind her before asking, “Why the hell would you do something stupid like that?”
“Because he threatened you,” Cassian said, through his teeth. “Because he threatened me, and our guests, and our unborn child, and he can’t do that.”
“You can’t just-.”
“I’m just going to talk,” Cassian said. “Or, I can go to the police for vandalism, but I’m going to do one of the two, it’s your call.”
Nesta crossed her arms over her chest. “I’d rather you fix the window and we pretend this never happened.”
Cassian stared at her. “I can’t do that.”
“You can’t fight your way out of this, Cass!” She said, beginning to pace in the small room. “Fighting with Tomas already ruined your roping career.”
Cassian’s jaw hardened. “I was defending you.”
“And I love you for that, but it doesn’t change the fact that what you did was stupid.” Nesta stopped and looked at him, putting her hands on his chest. “I’ve seen how good you were, you should’ve won that championship. But you didn’t. You let your anger and a stupid decision take that from you.”
Cassian sighed and said, “Make your choice: either I go to the police or he and I have a man to man talk.”
Nesta’s eyes, shimmering with frustrated tears, flicked down to his hurt shoulder. She opened the laundry room door, looking back at him, and said, “At least wait until Azriel and Rhys get back,” before shutting the door a little harder than necessary and walking back into the kitchen.
He felt guilty, but he wasn’t going to let that guilt talk him out of this. He had to talk to Tomas, had to let him know that this wasn’t okay.
Nesta had gone through enough.
She didn’t need to go through anymore.
So, he did as she asked and waited until Azriel and Rhys got back with the window before grabbing the keys without a word and driving himself into town, without so much as a goodbye to anyone.
He was seeing red.
Not only did this man make Nesta throw up out of fear at her own grand opening, but he threw a fucking brick through their window, scaring her even more, then Cassian was the one who got snapped at for wanting to correct it?
That wasn’t going to cut it.
He had finally gotten his happiness and Tomas fucking Mandray wasn’t going to take that away from him.
Cassian drove through town and to the other side, where he pulled onto the grounds of a small ranch. He spotted Tomas right away, working on a tractor just outside of the garage.
Cassian was opening the door before he even put the truck in park. “What the fuck is your problem, Mandray?”
“Don’t have a problem at all,” Tomas said, shit-eating grin on his face. “You got a problem?”
It took everything in Cassian to not hurl that brick back into his smug face. But he’d made a promise to Nesta. He was only here to talk, he wouldn’t start a fight with Tomas.
So instead, he very calmly reached into the truck, grabbed the brick off of the passenger seat, and lifted it up so Tomas could see it. “I think you left this at my girlfriend’s house.”
Cassian promised he wouldn’t start a fight with Tomas Mandray.
He didn’t say anything about finishing one.
Without another word, he launched the brick through Tomas’ workshop window.
“You fucking dick,” he yelled. “I’m going to fucking k-.”
“Heard you bought the old Carlson ranch,” Cassian interrupted. “Had to come give my congratulations.”
He swore he could see Tomas face change color as his own trick was used against him.
Cass continued, “You know, I hadn’t even heard you were back in town until just a week or two before Nesta came home.” He slammed the truck door and moved closer to the shop. Closer to Tomas. “Was that a coincidence or were you hurling bricks through her window in Paris, too?”
“Oh, fuck you.” The tone in Tomas’ voice… that was hatred. Pure and unadulterated hatred. “You think you get to come in, like some white knight? You’re saving the day again?”
Cassian wasn’t able to stop himself as he got in Tomas’ face. “You do anything to put my girlfriend or child in danger, ever again, and I will gladly reenact the ass whooping I gave you back at Worlds.”
His phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket, answering it without looking, knowing who it was.
“Yes?”
“That’s enough. Whatever you’ve said, it’s enough.” She had no idea how wrong she was. It would never be enough. “Please.”
With a deep sigh, he said, “Okay. I’ll be right there.”
Nesta’s relieved voice came across the ear piece, loud and clear. “Thank you, Cass. I love you.”
He stared Tomas down, knowing he’d heard every word of their conversation, and said, “I love you, too, sweetheart.”
He hung up and slipped the phone back into his back pocket. “Don’t ever come on our property again. It’ll be the last mistake you ever make.”
He turned and was heading for the truck, when Tomas spoke up. “Has Nesta ever told you how she found out she wasn't able to have kids? Or, well, wasn’t supposed to be able to.”
Cassian froze. Mostly everyone had guessed that Nesta’s pregnancy was an accident, but her supposed infertility wasn’t a known fact.
He turned. “How the hell do you know that?”
“Who do you think was holding her hand in a Parisian women’s clinic?”
Cassian blinked. “What?”
“She didn’t leave me here, Nazari,” Tomas said, with complete satisfaction that Cassian was caught off guard. “I was with her there, too, for a little while. I was there when we found out she couldn’t have kids. I was there when she cried, when she brushed it off and said it wasn’t a big deal. I was the one who dried her tears. Did she tell you that?”
No.
No she hadn’t.
Cassian’s jaw locked, but he said nothing.
“You’ve been with her for months,” Tomas spat, eyes turning cold, angry. “I was with her for years. She can try all she wants to, but in the end, she always comes back to me.”
“Stop talking,” Cassian warned.
“You sound worried,” Tomas crooned, eyes lighting with satisfaction. “Jealous, even.”
Cassian took a second to think about his next move, even as that anger brewed beneath the surface. He had already broken his window, had said what he had to say, and Nesta’s words replayed in the back of his mind.
Nesta.
Who apparently hadn’t told him the entire story of her and Tomas.
“Just stay off my fucking property,” Cassian said, meeting Tomas’s gaze as he climbed back into the truck, slammed the door shut, and made his way back to the road.
He kept the radio off as Tomas’ words came back to him. Tomas’ words, not Nesta’s. She had made Cassian believe that she had left Tomas here to begin again.
He felt foolish.
He felt pissed.
He took the turn onto the property a little too quickly and fishtailed, spitting rocks in every direction from the little gravel drive.
They were all sitting on the porch, his mismatched family. Rhys was the closest, leaning against the stair railing. Azriel was by the door. Feyre sat on the railing next to her husband. And Elain, sweet Elain was sitting on the porch swing.
Holding Nesta’s hand.
Cassian parked in front of the house and cut the engine. The silence was almost as defeating as the roar of the engine had been. He got out of the truck and shut the door with a gentleness he honestly didn’t think he was capable of in that moment.
Azriel said, “Give me my keys, asshole.”
Cass threw them to him, without looking, and started heading away from the main house, towards his cabin.
“Cass?”
The sound of his name from her lips clanged through him. He didn’t stop walking.
Light footsteps on wood. “Cass!”
Rhys called, “Cass, where are you going?”
He didn’t stop.
Her voice was hurt. “Cassian…”
He couldn’t stop.
Couldn’t stop because he couldn’t bear for them to see the silent tears streaming down his face.
Beau was at his side in an instant, trailing after his master with a soft whine as he made his way down the dirt path. He cursed himself as he angrily wiped at his face, steps hurried, urgent until he made it to his cabin.
Perhaps he should have locked it, but he hadn’t, and the door swung open easily. Beau laid on the couch as Cassian stomped to the fridge and pulled out a mostly full bottle of whiskey.
Tomas had been with Nesta in France?
The thought still echoed in his mind, leaving him breathless.
She would be here soon, no doubt, demanding to know what had happened.
Cassian looked at the bottle, unscrewed the top, and downed as much of the burning liquor as he could handle. He stopped, muttered a curse, and downed some more.
Beau only watched with concern in his pleading brown eyes.
It was only a few minutes before he heard footsteps outside, but the heavy, booted stride wasn’t the one he expected.
The door opened and Azriel came in. Cassian didn’t look up from the knot in the wooden flooring as it shut and Az made his was into the living room. He sat in the chair beside the couch.
“Your pregnant girlfriend is crying her eyes out right now. Any reason you’re not up there talking to her?”
Cassian looked at him then, letting him see the tears shimmering on his own face.
“Shit,” Azriel breathed, genuine surprise written on his face. “What happened out there?”
Cassian stayed quiet for a long moment, looking down at Beau while he fiddled with the top of the whiskey bottle. Then, he asked, “Did you know that Tomas was in France? With her?”
The stricken look on Azriel’s face told him that he didn’t.
“He was there with her for years,” Cassian said, that anger returning, fueling his words. “Living with her. She fucking stayed with him, Az. Which means that I not only lost my career, my dream, for fucking nothing, but that Nesta has been lying to me for months.”
Azriel opened his mouth to say something, but his words failed him.
“I feel like an idiot,” he said, taking another sip from the bottle. “I’m not up there comforting her right now because every word that’ll come out of my mouth will be one I end up regretting.”
Azriel stayed quiet for a few more minutes. Finally, he said, “She’s scared.” Cass looked up at him. “She thinks you did something stupid, that Tomas is somewhere laying in a ditch.”
Cassian scoffed. “Glad she’s so worried about him.”
“She’s not worried about him, you dumbass,” he said, disbelief coloring his tone. “She’s worried about you going to jail.”
Cassian didn’t answer, just took another swig from the bottle.
Azriel asked, “You’re not going to talk to her?”
“Not until I can be sure I won’t say something wrong.” He ran a hand through his hair, it had come loose from the hair tie at some point. “I just need to get my head on straight.”
“She’s carrying your child,” Azriel said, incredulously.
“Right now, all indicators are pointing to me being just a sperm donor so Tomas Mandray can have his perfect fucking life with the woman I’ve been in love with since high school.”
Azriel’s hazel eyes had gone cold. “I’m going to assume that’s the booze talking, because right now, you’re acting like a fucking prick.” He stood heading for the door. “She lied to you, yes, and that’s fucked up, but she didn’t do it on purpose. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt you because she loves you.”
He didn’t say anything else as he walked out, slamming the door shut behind him.
Cassian watched him go, not caring that Azriel was right. He was acting like a prick, but he deserved to be able to act like a prick.
He wasn’t in the wrong here.
He hadn’t fucking lied.
All she had ever told him about Tomas had pointed to the fact that she dumped him after that day at the rodeo, after she found out he was cheating, after Cassian had kicked his ass. And now he finds that all he had thought was complete bullshit? Had she thought she was pregnant with Tomas’s child at some point? Was that how they had found out she couldn’t have kids? Fuck, Tomas knew she thought she couldn’t have kids, a fact that hardly anyone knows.
Cassian felt fucking stupid.
And betrayed.
He finished off the bottle and tossed the glass onto the side table with a clatter, forcing Beau on his feet, instantly alarmed. Cassian pulled himself up from the couch and swayed, nearly falling back over. He steadied himself, though, and took one step forward, trying hard to clear his vision before taking another.
Azriel thought he should talk to Nesta so badly?
Fine.
He would.
If he could fucking make it there.
Cassian threw open the front door but misjudged the front steps. He tripped, and went tumbling down the three, his shirt ripping on his back over the bent wood.
“Fuck,” he yelled, the word slurred as he laid in the grass.
He didn’t feel much pain, though.
Shoutout to the whiskey.
Whiskey was a gift, making his body numb, like he was floating on air. His eyes fluttered open and he was staring up at the clear afternoon sky. The sun was bright, not a cloud in sight.
It was a perfect day.
Full of utter shit.
With a grunt, Cassian pulled himself into sitting position and pushed himself back onto his feet. Attempting to catch his balance, he looked up toward the main house.
None of them were on the porch now, and Azriel’s truck was no longer parked where he’d left it out front. He stood, wobbling slightly, planning to head to the main house, but he sighed.
They couldn’t hash this out in front of the guests, they very first guests they’d booked. No, he wouldn’t do that to Nesta, wouldn’t embarrass her like that, or tarnish her reputation.
So he stumbled to the small house by the river, window still smashed to hell and opened the door.
He wasn’t expecting to find Nesta inside, sitting with Elain and Feyre on the couch.
He cleared his throat, trying to make his intentions clear. Beau scurried off to the bedroom.
Her sisters didn’t move an inch. Feyre even looked like she was inclined to light him on fire.
“I need to talk to Nesta,” he said, making his voice as clear as possible. Neither made a move to stand. He added, “Alone.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered, squeezing Elain’s hand in her own.
Even Elain have him a distasteful look as they passed him, out the door. Cassian closed it behind them and turned to face his girlfriend.
She lifted her chin but said nothing.
“Tell me about France,” he demanded, voice low.
“You’re drunk,” she said, then nodded to his arm. “And you’re bleeding.”
He looked down near his elbow and, sure enough, blood was trickling from a scratch, thanks to his fall down his porch stairs.
“I’m fine,” he muttered. “Now, tell me about France.”
He could see the fear in her eyes that she tried to conceal as she said, “What about it?”
The question had been replayed in his head so many times that it didn’t sound right coming out loud now. “How long was he there?”
She blinked. “Who are you talk-?”
“Don’t bullshit me, Nes.” He leaned against the kitchen counter. “How long was Tomas in France? Hmm? Cause I sure felt like a dumbass when he was throwing your infertility in my face, something your own sisters didn’t even know. Telling me how he held your hand in the clinic and dried your tears and then fucked you to make you forget.”
She’d gone pale, the blood even leaching from her lips, and Cassian thought she might be about to vomit again. “He told you?”
Cassian could feel his heart breaking in his chest, thought he might audibly hear the crack, as she confirmed what he was hoping was a last ditch effort by Tomas to lie and get under his skin. “Sure as fuck did.” He tried to stop his voice from wavering, cleared his throat before he spoke again. But it didn’t stop his voice from breaking as he said, “Why didn’t you?”
Nesta tried to speak but a sudden sob came out instead. Cassian felt guilty for making her cry, but he didn’t show it. “He was there for just under two years,” Nesta said, at last, words quiet as tears streamed down her cheeks. “He came, asking for forgiveness, begging me to take him back, saying he wanted to start again. We had a scare. I...had thought I was pregnant but when we went to the doctor, that was when I found out I couldn’t- couldn’t have kids.” The words were barely audible through her sob, through her heartache. Cassian was breathing harder, but his feet stayed planted, just within the door. “He left me after that, weeks later. I hadn’t seen him again. Not until that day we went into town and ran into him at the hardware store.”
Cassian had nothing to say. She was the one crying, but Cassian just felt numb.
Nesta took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m sor-.”
“You lied to me,” Cassian breathed. “I’m the father of your child, and you fucking lied to me.”
“Cass, don’t-.”
“Stop,” he said, but there was no bite in his voice, only exhaustion from the whiskey, from the lies.
He turned to take a step toward the door, but Nesta was on her feet, her eyes narrowing. Her voice was quiet when she snapped, “Don’t you fucking dare walk away from me.”
Cassian stilled, slowly looking up to meet her gaze. “Seriously? You’re a fucking liar, Nesta! I gave everything to you! Even before you knew I existed, I gave everything to you! I don’t care that he was there, Nesta, if you wanted to repeat your mistakes, over and over again, that’s on you, but you lying about it to me? Making me think it never happened? Well, shit, Nes, if you’re always gonna go back to him, what the fuck am I even doing here?”
“Stop,” she seethed.
“When are you gonna get bored with me and go back to that trash?” He knew it was the alcohol speaking, but he couldn’t stop himself. “It seems to be a trend of yours.”
“You’re being an ass-.”
“Is he gonna be the one my kid calls dad, huh?” Cassian spat, and Nesta froze, her face paling, once more. “Or, were you lying to me about all that, too? Maybe Tomas is his dad, maybe you were fucking him-.”
Nesta’s hand came at his face so quickly that he couldn’t collect himself before her open palm came forcefully in contact with his cheek.
He couldn’t believe the words had come out of his mouth. Couldn’t believe he’d said them aloud. But he refused to see himself as the sole problem in the situation. He may not have been able to hold his tongue, but she was the one who had kept the truth from him.
That slap had all but sobered him up and he needed to go.
He didn’t say a word as he turned from her, walked into the back bedroom and start grabbing his shit, throwing it into a backpack he’d found in the closet.
“Are you leaving me?”
Her voice came from the doorway, and when he turned to look at her, the sadness on her face nearly brought him to his knees. Instead he continued to pack up his bag, grabbing necessities he couldn’t get from main house. “No. Of course not. But I’m staying in the cabin tonight.”
She begged, “Cassian, please-.”
“I can’t stay here tonight,” he said, voice breaking. “I’m going to keep saying things I’m going to regret. And I’m-.” He closed his eyes, fighting the moisture he felt threatening to spill over again. He couldn’t stop the break in his voice. “I’m so fucking hurt, Nesta. You, of all people, you lied to me. I need time to myself, to think.”
He ignored her protests, ignored her tears as he hauled the bag over his shoulder and left, hurrying past Elain and Feyre, who had been waiting on the porch, no doubt hearing every word he’d said. He strode into the cabin and threw the bag down before he started jogging down the path that led to the stables. Behind the stables was an old shed, which he pushed open with his shoulder.
His wood working supplies and a heap of wood laid just inside. He used to do it more, his wood working, before Isaac died, when he’d had more time. He’d sold quite a bit of the furniture he’d made through the years, leaving him with one hell of a savings.
He loved it.
And he was good at it.
And it took his mind off things.
And right now, there was only one thing on his mind.
He worked throughout the night, taking his aggression out on the wood, hacking and chipping and carving and sawing.
He didn’t even know what he was making until it took form in front of him. He just let the wood find itself in his skilled hands.
When the sun was breaking over the trees, he walked back to the cabin, carrying the piece in his arms. He was surprised to find Beau dozing on the front porch, locked out. “What are you doing out here, bud?” He asked, leaning down to scratch behind his soft ears. Beau whined at the door.
He opened the door and immediately knew why Beau had been forgotten outside.
Nesta was asleep on his couch, one of his team roping hoodies swallowing her. He softly closed the door and walked around the room, setting the piece on the wooden coffee table with a thud.
Nesta’s eyes opened and she blinked a few times, before her eyes focused on Cassian.
And then on the small, wooden cradle he’d set down on the table.
Nesta’s eyes slowly trailed up to Cassian’s as she brought her knees up to her chest. “What is this?”
“A bassinet,” Cassian said, his voice low, “and an apology.”
Nesta slowly reached out her fingers to brush along the smooth surface. It was flawless. Her lips parted as she took a deep breath.
“I’m not going to pretend I’m not pissed, Nesta,” he continued, his hands in his pockets, “but I didn’t mean the things I said. I was drunk and I was mad, but I was wrong to say the things that I did.”
She nodded, subtly, still staring at the cradle. Her eyes lined with silver. “It’s beautiful, Cassian.”
She still wouldn’t look at him.
His jaw tightened. He hated making her cry, but this wasn’t a conversation that they could sweep under the rug. He sat down next to her, not quite touching her, but also not far away.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, voice quiet.
He would keep his temper in check, he had no choice not to.
She just continued to brush her finger along the smooth, curved edge. “Where did you get this?”
“I made it.” There was no bragging, no pride.
“You…made it?” Her voice was incredulous. “How?”
He stood and held it out his hand to her. “I’ll show you.”
He lead her down the path, past the stables and to the workshop. He shoved the door aside and Nesta’s eyes didn’t know where to look first. “Cass…”
“Nesta, please.” His voice broke again. She turned to look at him, leaning against the open door frame, seeing the man in front of her, the man she loved, more broken than he’d ever been. His eyes were lined with silver. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
Nesta’s shoulders sagged as she looked away from him, eyes drifting around his little workshop. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Tomas in Paris. No one knew, because… because I was ashamed of it.”
Her words were near silent, but they filled the little shed. Cassian said nothing, and she didn’t dare look at him again as she went on. “I should have told you. And I’m sorry you had to hear about it from him. But you know, now, Cass. All of it, all my secrets. I continuously went back to a shitty, mentally abusive relationship because that’s what I thought I deserved for so long.”
Cassian couldn’t help the tear that fell from his eye. He blamed it on the fact that he’d gotten drunk and stayed up all night, that he was too old for that shit, but he knew that wasn’t why.
“I have always feared how much you love me,” she whispered. “Since the moment I met you… You’ve been so passionate, so genuine, and I didn’t know how to handle that. Then I learned that you were the one that beat up Tomas for cheating on me… I knew I shouldn’t have gone back to him, Cass, knew I shouldn't have taken him back when he showed up in Paris, but I was weak. And I didn’t care, you know? I didn’t care if I got into a relationship that wasn’t…ideal. I stayed with him because I deserved it after all I’d done throughout the years. My family didn’t talk to me. I pushed everyone away, for the most part. But Tom? He was my only consistency. After he left in Paris, though, I was done. I was content on being alone. And I always feared him, a little bit, even before I knew I had real reason to. He’s a cruel man, and I have had nothing to do with him for years.” She turned to meet him, then, her pale cheeks red and blotchy. “This baby is yours, and yours alone. Half you, half me. Tomas is dead to me, Cass. He haunts my dreams and plagues my memories, but he is not a part of my life or my future.”
Cassian didn’t speak. Nesta knew he was processing, knew he hadn’t ignored her confession, that he was turning it over and over in his head. So instead of interrupting him, instead of distracting him, she began to walk through his shop. There were things of every shape and size, from a towering wardrobe to the tiniest, most detailed figurines. She saw chairs, and platforms, pallets and easels. There were different tools used to shape and sand and manipulate the wood into whatever shape he wanted.
Her fingers were skimming across the surface of an unfinished kitchen table with thick, rustic legs, when Cassian’s voice came from right behind her. “You two are the most important things in my life.” She turned expecting to find him by the door, but he was in the heart of the workshop with her. “I said some shit that I didn’t mean, and I’m sorry.” He tucked some of her loose hair behind her ear. “I was hurt and drunk and confused and…” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Nesta. I love you and I’m so, so sorry.”
“I know,” she breathed, reaching up to cup his face in her hands. “I am, too.”
He leaned down and kissed her, softly, her arms wrapping around his neck as he did so.
“I promise to be truthful,” Nesta said, running her hands down his broad arms. “Always. Every day.” Her fingers stopped and grazed the cut on his arm, just above his elbow.
Cassian chuckled, surprising her. She looked up to meet his gaze, his tired eyes lit with amusement.
“I fell down my porch stairs yesterday,” Cassian mumbled.
Nesta, eyes still misty, broke out in a grin. “Your feet are too big to walk on when you’re drunk.”
“You know what they say about big feet,” Cassian said, wrapping his arms around her waist.
“They come with a cocky attitude?” Nesta asked, her arms resuming their position, hands clasped behind his neck.
Cassian laughed, breathlessly. “Close enough.”
He lifted her up against him, taking a few steps back until he was setting her on an empty spot on his workshop table. His rough hands ran down her thighs as he kissed her again, his teeth tugging gently on her bottom lip.
“I have to go make breakfast for the guests,” she said, quietly, not wanting to ruin the moment, but knowing her duties.
“What time?” he asked.
“Eight,” she said, quietly.
Cassian pulled his nearly-dead phone out of his pocket before shoving it right back in, his lips finding her neck. “That’s an hour from now.”
She laughed, but leaned her head back, giving him better access. Even then, she said, breathlessly, “One more day. Doctor’s orders.”
His hand wove into her hair, tilting her head down. He said, “Fuck the doctor’s orders,” and kissed her, hard, pulling her body against his.
Her arms tightened around his neck.
The hand that wasn’t tugging on Nesta’s hair lifted the hem of his sweatshirt she wore. His fingers skimmed along her back, every pass going lower and lower...
She wasn’t wearing anything beneath the hoodie.
He pulled back, eyes wide in surprise.
Her lips were swollen from his kisses, but he could see her cheeks redden. “I might have been planning to apologize myself. Yours was just better.”
“I don’t know, yours looks pretty good…” he mumbled, his thumbs brushing over her peaked nipples as he palmed her breasts. “The fact that you’re wearing nothing but boots right now is, like, the center of every fantasy I’ve ever had.”
Nesta laughed quietly as she wrapped her legs around Cassians waist and pulled him into her. She tugged on his shirt until his chest was bare and her fingers were exploring him hungrily.
They skimmed over that red, angry scar, barely eliciting a reaction from him. Just a slight pull of air through his teeth.
“Does it still hurt?” The words were a whisper, the early morning quiet this far from the city.
He shook his head. “No. It’s actually pretty numb now, just sore sometimes.” He took her hand, gently pressing the palm down over his chest, rather than her fingers above. She could feel the steady beat beneath his skin. “This is the only thing I feel there now. And it’s yours.”
A slow smile captured her lips as she kissed him, passionately, her mind empty of all thoughts except for one: how much she loved this man before her. Even with all of his imperfections, his anger being at the top of that list. But she knew that he loved her just the same.
With hasty fingers, she undid the button that held up his jeans, fully aware of how hard he’d become.
It had been a while.
Too long.
The low groan that escaped his throat as she undid his zipper told her as much.
He reached between them, wanting to work her slowly, to have her falling apart on his hand, to…
“You’re already soaked, sweetheart,” he breathed.
As if it were explanation enough, she tossed her head back and said, “I need you, Cass.”
That was enough for him.
He surprised her though, not by roughly slamming his cock inside her, like she expected - and wanted, truthfully - but by dropping to his knees and feasting on her.
The moan that left her was louder than it should have been. Anyone in the area would have known precisely what they were doing. But neither of them could really be bothered by anything taking place outside of the small workshop.
Within those walls, it was just the two of them, and that was all that mattered.
His tongue swept between her folds, hungrily, and found her clit with desperate expertise. With her slender fingers tangling into his hair, Nesta’s body clenched, overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving her.
If this was the way they made up, perhaps they should fight more often, Nesta thought. Over something small, miniscule, but she’d make a scene if this was the outcome.
She whispered his name into the silence, putting every emotion she could fathom into the syllables, that one word. Cassian gripped her ass, pulled her closer into his mouth. His fingers would surely leave marks, ones she gladly welcomed. Her legs wrapped around his neck, her boots hanging down his back, the thick, worn leather grazing his bare skin.
He worshipped her with his tongue, touching and biting and kissing until Nesta was a whimpering mess.
Her back arched and she groaned, the words rushing out of her on a heavy breath. “Cassian, gods, please, don’t stop.”
He obeyed, one of his thumbs rubbing slow, torturous circles on her clit while he fucked her with his tongue. He groaned as she shuddered, her legs like a vice around his head, his name like a reverent prayer, repeated over and over again.
She was on the edge, hardly managing to hold on as Cassian's mouth fell away, leaving her suddenly cold and bare, and just as she was about to protest, he was thrusting his cock into her, being anything but gentle. His pace was quick, steady, rough, his hands still holding onto her ass as his head fell back, his long, damn hair hanging loosely, brushing along his shoulders as his eyes rolled back into his head.
Nesta leaned back, trying to find something to hold onto as he shook her body with his, leaving her off balance. She found nothing but the hard table beneath her, but Cassian's grip tightened against her skin as he cursed, brutally, beautifully.
“Fuck, I’ve missed your body,” he said, panting heavily. He looked down, watching as she unraveled around him. Her breasts shook and Cassian couldn’t take his eyes off of them.
Nesta leaned back on her elbows, letting her head roll back. “Baby. Hold on, wait, wait,” she said, sitting up and gently pushing his chest.
He froze, loosening the grip on her ass, but holding her tighter to him. “What? Are you okay?”
She pushed him back and he shuffled back, jeans still around his legs. She hopped off the table and turned around, rising up on her toes and lifting her ass. She looked over her shoulder at him, wiggling slightly.
Cassian nearly came at the sight of her in those boots, bent over his work bench, everything on display for him.
He hesitated, but not because he didn’t want to, but because he wanted to drink the sight in before him for as long as possible.
But she was waiting.
And he wouldn’t make her wait.
He took her ass into his hands and positioned himself just right before pushing himself into her, slowly. A long, quiet moan fell from her body as her back arched and her ass lifted further, and Cassian reached around her, one hand finding her breast, the other rolling a slow, taunting finger over her clit as he found a slow, steady pace, thrusting his cock into her. He breathed in her scent as his teeth found the back of her neck, nipping at her skin.
“I love you so much,” Cassian breathed, resting his forehead between her shoulder blade. He pressed soft kisses up her spine until his mouth was by her ear. “Fuck, marry me, Nesta. Be my wife. Make me the happiest fucking man in the world.”
She gasped lightly and reached backwards, grabbing for his hip. He slowed and stopped, cock filling her as he paused with his hips flush to her ass, and she looked back at him, whispering, “What did you say?”
He brushed the loose hairs off her face and caressed her cheek softly. “Marry me, sweetheart. Not because of the baby, not because I think it’s the right thing to do. But because I love you. I will never love anyone the way I love you. It doesn’t have to be right now, it doesn’t even need to be soon after the baby comes, just…” He pressed another kiss to the middle of her back. “Say you’ll marry me, Nesta.”
Her breathing was ragged as she swayed her hips, a gentle movement that forced a moan to fall from his lips, muffled against the skin of her back.
“Of course I’ll marry you,” she breathed. “There’s nothing I want more. Soon, later, whenever. Yes, yes, yes.”
He kissed her neck, and down her spine as the breaths she took grew shaky, pulling out slowly as he did so. Then he slammed his hips into hers and she cried out his name as that pace resumed, his mind a mess of beautiful things and chaotic emotions that could only be brought on by the woman before him.
His future wife.
“I’m close,” he grunted, his fingers digging into her hips. “I want you to come with me, baby.” She whimpered, her head resting atop the table. “Let me feel that perfect pussy come on my cock.”
“Please, Cassian, please,” she panted. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
Her knees began to quiver and Cass slipped his hand around, furiously rubbing her clit and it was only a matter of seconds before she was shattering around him, his name falling from her lips in a breathy moan.
Cassian’s heart was pounding inside of his chest as he spilled himself inside of her, his eyes falling shut as his head fell between her shoulder blades, his breath heavy, hot, against her skin as he moved in her, riding it out. For a moment, neither of them said a word, neither of them moved. The silence was filled with panting breaths and soft curses.
Nesta could feel his heart thrumming against her back, wild and alive.
Her knees still shook, ever-so-slightly, and when he pulled himself out, she had to bite her lip from whimpering from the absence of him. Cassian gently pushed on her hips so that she'd turn to face him, and when she did, his hands met her abdomen in a gentle, tender touch. Then he met her gaze, and his hazel eyes were soft, thoughtful, not at all like they had been only moments before - wild, reckless.
He kissed her, slowly, and whispered against her lips, “I love you.”
Her arms wrapped around him, burying her face in his chest. “I love you, too.”
They cleaned up in silence, Cassian helping her pull the oversized sweatshirt back over her head. They were walking back towards the cabin when Nesta yawned and said, “I need to go make breakfast.”
Cassian kissed her forehead and said, “Go sleep. I’ll handle basic breakfast and let the guests know that we’ll be unavailable today.”
She nodded and rose up on her toes, kissing him. He watched her walk down the path before he turned and made his way up to the house. As he got closer he took a deep breath and realized he was smelling bacon cooking.
He entered through the back door, finding Feyre and Elain feeding the guests. He blinked. “Uh, good morning.”
Feyre refused to look at him. Elain sighed and asked, “Did you two make up?”
He looked at the clock above the stove. “Just spent the last hour and a half doing just that, yeah.”
“Gross,” Feyre mumbled, but she shot Cassian a smirk and he knew that he’d been forgiven.
Yesterday would not be forgotten. No, it was a very important moment in the story of who they were, but it was a day that would be treated as a lesson.
It was also the day that Nesta agreed to be his wife. But they didn’t need to know that yet.