"So, go sock it to him, boss. Make him realize what he's missing, and what he could lose."
"But does he want it enough? That's the sixty-four million dollar question."
* * * *
The noise was the same. The crowd, even the gentle breeze embroidered with the salty tang from the nearby waves was the same. Everything was exactly the same.
Except you, Sullivan.
She was different.
She'd made an exciting, thrilling, but scary discovery and fallen in love with a man who actively shied from love.
Tonight, however, she was here to have fun, and if that meant she teased and taunted Cade into a spin, well and good. She wanted him to come to grips with what he could lose—had lost because of fear—unless he dug deep into his past. He needed to deal with it, before the future could begin.
"Hey, Taylor, looking for Cade?"
Taylor jerked back to reality, attacked by a sudden onslaught of nerves. She pulled the edges of her coat a bit closer, aware of her near nakedness beneath as the wool brushed against her overheated skin.
"Hi, Harry."
Harry Fontain had already cornered her elbow and was leading her inside, giving her no choice but to follow. But then, wasn't this why she'd come?
Harry scanned the bar. “Can't see him, maybe he's out back. Want me to check?"
"No!” Taylor caught his hand. “I mean, not right now. Leave him be. I thought I might um...” She spied the pool table. “How about a game of pool?"
"You play?” Harry seemed surprised, but then so was she. She didn't a have a clue how to play.
"Sure. I was brought up on the game,” she lied. “Come on, how about a little one-on-one?"
"That's basketball."
"Pardon?"
"One-on-one is basketball."
"Oh.” Damn. And she thought she'd been so clever. “Nevermind, you get my drift."
"Sure thing."
Taylor eyed the pool green with suspicion. The only time she'd tried the game, she ended up sending the pool cue through the green and been ordered out of the youth club.
"So, who starts?"
"Better take off your coat, this is going to be a hot game."
"Here goes.” Taylor undid the last button and let Harry lift the coat from her shoulders.
"Wowee. Does Cade know what you're wearing?"
"Should he?” She turned and flashed a bright smile over her shoulder toward Harry. The man's expression turned crimson. “Let's play, Harry.” And she picked up the cue stick, aware that as she circled the table, every man in the room eyed her from top to toe. The leather shorts rose up her rear, and she would swear the waistcoat was a size smaller than when she tried it on. Her breasts were almost popping out. Forcing back the tangle of nerves, she tried to wiggle them back in, without drawing too much attention.
Failed on that score.
Harry and his cohorts exhaled a collective breath of beer-tainted air.
Being ogled didn't feel great. In fact, Taylor almost turned tail and ran. But she was on a mission. One last shot.
She bent over the table, aware the shorts rode up even further and her cleavage was on view for the nine o'clock news. She tried to remember what she'd seen on Pot Black.
"That's an idea.” She hesitated; the cue tucked under one arm. She flicked a strand of hair back from her face and eyed Harry. “How about a bet?"
"What ya got in mind?"
Yeah. What? From the corner of her eye, she saw Cade walk into the bar from the back room. He looked haggard, as if he hadn't slept for days.
Good job. Neither had she. Now, she intended to give him another sleepless night, something to think about—hopefully.
"How about a kiss?” And she gave Harry her best smile, making sure he heard her every word.
Poor Harry. The man's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
* * * *
"What the hell are you doing here, Taylor?"
"It's a bar, isn't it?"
Cade grabbed Taylor's arm, but his gaze fixated on her breasts, more than visible above the deep V of the buttoned leather waistcoat. Skin he'd kissed.
"Shit,” he bit out. “Dressed like that, is what I mean."
She batted her lashes at him. Damn, they were long. Too long. Too seductive. Adrenaline and arousal kicked in, his swollen groin making him instantly uncomfortable.
"Having fun, Cade darling,” Taylor almost purred. “Doing what you said I should and catching up on four years.” She trailed a scarlet talon down the center of his T-shirt.
Cade gritted his teeth. He wanted her. Bad. Real bad. “Not here you're not."
"You kicking me out?” She smiled at him. Teasing him. She knew it, and he knew it.
"I'll go with you,” Harry Fontain edged forward.
"Keep out of this, Harry. This is between Taylor and me."
"Taylor and I,” she corrected sweetly.
"Stop doing that."
"What?” Her eyes widened with feigned innocence.
"That! With those lashes of yours."
"You mean this?” And as she blinked several times, a soft peal of fluttery laughter escaped her ruby red lips. Her wide smile bared her teeth—teeth she'd used on him, nipping him.
Oh, hell. He was definitely in deep trouble.
"A girl can go out and have a drink with friends."
"And these are your friends?"
Cade glanced around. Harry, Roger, Ted Samson. The usual crowed hovered around, all eager to see what was going on. He bristled at their intrusion.
"They are, actually.” She nodded towards them, before returning her direct gaze at him, challenging his sanity. “Any problems?"
His grip on her arm tightened. “This isn't the sort of place for you."
"Why not?” she taunted. “What's wrong with it? It's a good bar, pleasant company. Besides, you own it, so I'm safe, aren't I?"
"You tell him, Taylor."
Cade shot the interloper a scathing glance.
"Point one to me, I think.” She smiled, running a hand through her long hair. A silken strand brushed against Cade's cheek, and he stilled.
Memories.
Taylor's hair abrading his sex-dampened skin, trailing over him as she licked him, teased him into oblivion.
Damn, this was hard. More than hard. It was pure torture. “This isn't a game, Taylor."
"No. It's life, and I'm living it, Cade. Just as you said I should.” She blinked again and smiled sweetly at him. Sweet. Hell, it was temptation and agony all rolled into one.
"It seems to me you don't want to share. I wonder why that is?"
* * * *
Cade couldn't believe it, come midnight, Taylor had beaten every guy in the room at pool. Mind you, most of them couldn't see the balls for ogling Taylor. She looked hot. Too hot for them.
"Closing time, folks.” Cade eyed the clock above the bar.
"Five minutes to go,” Harry called.
"Forget it, Harry. Time's up. Everyone out."
Grumbles aside, Cade hustled everyone out. Taylor walked to the door, her coat draped over her arm.
"Not you."
"I beg your pardon?"
"So you should; you've given me a hard on all night, and probably every other man in the room."
She smiled—that sweet innocent look again. Sweet nothing. Tonight, Taylor was sex on heels, and he wanted to kiss her, over and over until he could expunge her from his brain and his body.
"I need a drink. Fancy a nightcap?"
"Sure.” Dropping her coat on a nearby chair, Taylor followed him to the bar. “You know, this is all your fault,” she said, propping herself up on a barstool.
"You reckon."
"Absolutely. You helped me find myself."
"Good ‘ol me. Mr. Helpful."
"Mm.” She took a sip of the French blackcurrant liqueur, smiling up at him through those blasted lashes again. His body heat skidded past boiling.
"Maybe I should set myself up as a shr
ink."
"Why won't you talk about your past, Cade?"
He skulled the remainder of his beer before answering. “Some memories aren't worth remembering."
"If you don't deal with it, it'll haunt you."
A cracked laugh rumbled from his chest. “You trying analyze me again. Thought we'd passed that phase."
"Oh, I've passed the lot, Cade. But you, you're still back in the past."
"How do you figure that, sweetheart?” he said, trying for nonchalance, but coming up empty. He cared. But didn't want to. Caring that much hurt like hell.
"How about some music?” Taylor gestured towards the jukebox.
"Sure."
Still switched on, the garish lights zinged in the dimmed room. Cade poured them both another drink, swallowing back half of his in one gulp. He needed it.
The sultry sounds of a blues number echoed around the room. Cade grabbed their glasses and walked over to Taylor. “Your drink, madam."
She smiled, but didn't move. “Thank you."
"For?"
"Everything."
Cade's throat thickened. “Ms. Sullivan,” he said, virtually holding his breath, “would you care to dance?"
Taylor's nod was imperceptible, but the only encouragement he needed. He took her hand in his, spikes of desire ripping through him with vicious need at the first touch. He gritted his teeth. It's over. Remember, that.
Yet, it didn't feel over—but that it had just begun.
Effortlessly, Taylor stepped into his embrace and moved to the rhythmic chords of the music. “How is it that we know each other so intimately, yet I don't know what music you like?"
"I'm easy to please,” she said, smiling.
"Easy? Never that, Taylor. You're sweet, hard working."
"And out of here?"
"What?"
Taylor pulled herself from his embrace, snatching herself away, hugging her arms around her chest.
That same old action again. He'd come to recognize it as the moment when she shut down, turned away from him.
Damn. Cade sucked in a lungful of oxygen and found his gazed fixed firmly and definitely below her shoulders. The way she folded her arms did sort of squishy, sexy things to her breasts so that they rose above neckline of her vest.
Very enticing. And hell, it made him very horny.
Taylor took a few steps back, eyes scouring the room for her bag. “I can't do this,"
"You keep saying that, then you come back,” Cade countered.
"I know. I'm sorry. It's just that you made me realize what my past has done to me, stifled me. So now I want to live, to experience love, marriage and babies and the whole white picket fence thing. You don't want that."
Nope. No way. “It only leads to heartache."
"Hearts ache no matter what, Cade. I might not have much experience in life, but believe me I know that is a definite."
"Yeah, but I've lived it, seen it first hand. People think they love someone, get married, then it falls flat. Lust and love get confused."
"Well, that's something you should know. You sure as hell know lust."
"We both do. That's why we're good together. We understand lust."
"But that's it, Cade. Together for how long? What future is there in that? As you say, lust doesn't last, then where would we be?"
Where?
Cade's gut zinged, and his groin, and every damned part of him ached as he watched Taylor shut herself away from him, the lowering of her lashes as they shadowed her thoughts.
Going away. Leaving. The thought stuck in his throat, his chest tightening. This was it. She was leaving tonight and he'd probably never see her again. She didn't want him anymore. She'd used him for her own needs. That was it.
Just like his ex-girlfriend, Tania, and his mother. See—use and leave.
* * * *
"Damn. Damn. Damn. This wasn't how it was meant to go.” Taylor thought she'd planned for every eventuality, that she could tempt him. Obviously she wasn't woman enough for him, even in less clothing than a Barbie doll. But even as these thoughts crowded her brain, Taylor realized it was she who pulled back. She who'd stopped dancing. She was running scared.
Again.
"Sorry Cade, got to go. Wedding tomorrow,” she offered as an excuse. Gathering up her coat and bag, she quickly shucked it on before he could reach her. She turned to him, willing the fresh tremors that threatened to leave her in a heap at his feet to dissolve.
"I...” she stuttered. “How do I say thank you?"
"You just did,” he said. But there wasn't an inch of humor in his expression.
"It doesn't seem enough. You've given me a new start,” she said. One she now knew she didn't want to go alone, but had to. Cade had to make his own decisions, his own path in life. Taylor swallowed hard, trying to clear a suddenly blocked airway. “Take care, Cade. You'll be a success. Good luck.” And with that, she wrenched the door open, tottering into the dark, lonely night, before she allowed herself to think. Besides, thinking hurt.
With the engine running Taylor sat in the car, staring out blankly at the inky darkness. The sound of the waves were a soft slap against the wharf and from the distance where the Harbor Bridge spanned the isthmus came the incessant hum of vehicles crossing its length.
"Damn you, Cade Harper.” Taylor slammed her hands down on the steering wheel. But it wasn't Cade's fault. “I shouldn't have opened a can of worms. Should have left everything as it was.” The status quo had worked for years, why change, she reasoned into the silent night.
But Taylor knew the answer. Just as she had known from the moment she spied Cade haloed by the rays of the sun beaming through the church's stained window—he was the one. The man for her.
Trouble was, Cade didn't know it, nor did he want to. He didn't trust enough to let the barriers down.
* * * *
"Why does love hurt so much?” Sitting in her office the next morning after zero sleep, Taylor hugged a cushion to her chest. Through eyes that stung, gritty and tear-filled, she looked up at the concerned face of Nita.
"I suppose that's what makes it worth while,” Nita said and replenished Taylor's third cup of straight black coffee. She passed Taylor the mug which she gratefully accepted and took a draught of piping hot liquid, hoping it would fortify her morbidity.
"Maybe a hit of double caffeine will bring me back to life,” she mused, trying to dig herself out of a stupor. “How can it be worthwhile if the other person doesn't figure it out?"
"I don't know, Taylor. I'm sorry."
Taylor blinked back another bout of tears. “Yeah, me, too."
"But at least you can answer those sex questions now."
"Yeah, orgasms, vaginismus, or how big is big?” she said, grinning despite herself. Her eyes lowered as memories of Cade holding her, his fingers exploring and lips kissing her, washed over her. It was too much and, for the umpteenth time in forty-eight hours, tears began.
Nita plunked herself down beside Taylor. “That's right. Cry. Let it all out."
"How long, Nita? How long until it gets better?"
"A while."
Left to her own sadness, Taylor mulled over what Nita had said. A while. She hoped so, but right now it felt like it was forever. It hurt. Deep down inside, where she'd never let anyone in. Until now. ‘Til, Cade Harper.
"Big mistake."
Chapter Fourteen
"You are one fool, Cade."
The pile of accounts Cade had been working on fell from his hands to his already over crowded desk. He stood up and scowled. “Get out of here, Zane."
"Not until I've given you a piece of my mind."
Cade gritted his teeth. “Do I have to listen?"
"If you know what's good for you.” Zane thrust him back into his seat. “Now sit there and keep that trap shut, brother."
"Get it over with quick.” Cade eyed the blueprints scattered over his desk. His dream project. But not his real-life dream. That space had been taken.
&
nbsp; Cade choked back an oath and squashed that thought. “I've got to see the builders at the new site,” he informed his brother, ever hopeful Zane would turn tail and walk right out of his office.
"Yeah, and isn't that just convenient. Business and more business. What else is there?"
"Exactly.” Cade folded his arms across his chest.
"Life? Love? Have you heard of those words?"
"I'm in no mood to listen to your ramblings, Zane."
"Haven't been in any mood since Taylor walked out on you,” his brother cut in. “Now why would that be?"
A heavy sigh slid past Cade's grim down-turned mouth. He eyed his brother. So like himself, yet very different. “You may be my brother, but right now I want to punch your lights out."
"Bring it on,” Zane chuckled and flexed his fingers back and forwards.
"Yeah, right. Anyway, I presume you're going to tell me something."
A familiar smile spread across Zane's face, and for a split second, fear knotted in Cade's gut.
"Now, that is where you're wrong. I'm not telling you anything."
"Great. About time.” Cade shoved his chair back and stood up. Zane was tall, but he was taller.
"Don't try and intimidate me, Cade. Won't work. Hasn't since I hit thirteen,” Zane said as he opened the door to the bar. “You're my big brother. I look up to you. I used to think you knew everything. I guess I was wrong.” He shrugged. “You've got to work this out for yourself, mate."
"There's nothing to work out,” Cade said flatly.
Zane made a clicking noise with his tongue. “Now that is definitely where you're wrong. So, I'll say goodbye. Happy analyzing, Cade."
Zane stepped through the door and closed it behind him, but just as the latch went to click, he popped his head back around the door. “One more thing, Cade. Our mother left because Dad didn't care enough. Do you care enough?"
And with that, the door shut with a resounding click leaving Cade alone—finally—to think. Something he was very uncomfortable doing.
* * * *
Sleep again proved elusive, and Cade tossed and turned as the hours ticked by until he heard the birds’ first call and daybreak tipped over the conical peak of Rangitoto Island in the harbor.
He's the One Page 16
