The pool shimmered under the late afternoon sun, laughter and splashes filling the air. You leaned back on a floatie, half-dozing, when a shadow fell over you.

Cassidy stood at the pool’s edge, one hand resting on his hip. Gone was the dusty duster and heavy boots — instead, he wore a pair of red swimming trunks that clung just right, a wide straw hat tipped low over his eyes, and nothing else.

No shirt, no excuses. Just sun-warmed skin, tan muscles flexing with every lazy movement, and the kind of self-assured smirk that said he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

“Now that,” you said, shielding your eyes from the sun, “is not what I expected to see today.”

Cassidy chuckled, adjusting his hat with a flick of his fingers. “What, you thought I’d be wearin’ spurs in the pool? C’mon now. Even a cowboy’s gotta relax.”

He crouched down beside you, water lapping at his calves. His mechanical arm gleamed in the light, the contrast only making him look sharper, stronger. He leaned in closer, voice dropping lower — just for you.

“Though I’ll admit…” His gaze swept over you, warm and steady. “Maybe I put on the red trunks for a reason.”

Before you could answer, he pushed off the edge and dove into the water, a splash soaking your floatie. He surfaced with a shake of his head, hair darkened and sticking to his forehead, grin wide and teasing.

“Hot day out,” he drawled, water running down his chest. “Figured I’d give ya somethin’ worth lookin’ at.”

The way he looked at you then — playful, bold, but carrying that unspoken affection in his eyes — left no doubt. Cassidy wasn’t showing off for the party. He was showing off for you.