Perfect Sense (Perfect Series Book 1)

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Perfect Sense (Perfect Series Book 1) Page 17

by Amanda Cowen


  “It’s the best view in all of Thompson.” He shrugs and looks back at me letting out a deep sigh. He watches me for a moment then glances out the window, staring off into the distance. “There were a lot of good times had on that lake.” He leans back against the wall, propping one foot back behind him. “My brother, Cory, and I spent our summers swinging off an old tire swing into that water and our winters playing hockey with our buddies once it would freeze over.” He looks lost in the memory. “There were a lot of fists thrown, bloody noses and fat lips. It drove our mother crazy. And when things were getting out of control, she would come up to this window, open it up and yell across the yard at us to stop dicking around and start playing some real hockey. She loved the game, but she hated the fighting.” He lets out a sigh and turns his gaze back out the window.” She would be rolling in her grave if she knew the player I’ve become. Growing up, she was what kept me grounded. She was my biggest fan.”

  “She sounds like a great mom.” I take the seat across from him, on the opposite side of the window.

  He nods. “Damn right she was.”

  “How long ago did she pass?” My tone is careful, worried I’m asking him to share too much information too soon.

  “A year ago.” He lets out a hard breath and I remain silent for a full minute before he finally continues. “When my Mom was six years old, she was diagnosed with Leukemia. She spent the next few years of her childhood fighting cancer and she won. But when I was in the eighth grade, she was diagnosed with stage one Lymphoma. Cory and I watched her suffer and fight for her life for a whole year. It was the worst fucking year of my life, but she fought it and beat it. Then one year after the accident… just when I thought things couldn’t get any fucking worse, her Lymphoma came back. This time it was a stage four. The worst stage.” His voice turns low, his eyes filled with unshed tears. He swallows hard, gains composure and looks out the window and away from my eyes. “She finally lost the battle.”

  Sympathy engulfs me as I think of a talented little boy with bright blue eyes playing hockey on that ice. I think of all the love and nurturing his mother gave him and the haunted hole in his heart from her loss. Her unconditional warmth and love fills every inch of this home. From the countless family pictures hanging on the walls, to the warm and welcoming interior, I can envision her standing at this window, silently admiring her sons playing hockey on the ice below. Tears sting my eyes.

  “Don’t look at me that way.” Cash abruptly straightens, putting space between us. “Those big green eyes of yours are full of pity. I’m not looking for your sympathy. Forget I even said anything about her.”

  “If anyone understands how you feel, I do.” I take a cautious step towards him and he responds by taking a step back. My heart sinks in my chest. I don’t understand him. One minute he opens up to me and the next minute he shuts me out.

  “I’ll let you unpack,” he murmurs and turns his back to me, closing the door behind him.

  While I’m unpacking, I watch Cash from the window walk across the yard and step into an old wooden boathouse. About fifteen minutes pass before he reappears and I’ve tucked my last sweater into the top drawer of the dresser. I scurry down the stairs, wanting to meet him outside on the porch, but by the time I step into the living room he is already standing there, smiling back at me.

  “Come see my boat,” he says, opening the doors leading out onto the porch.

  “I thought you weren’t trying to impress me,” I tease as I walk past him onto the deck and straight to the railing. The breeze off the lake catches my hair, and it dances around my shoulders.

  “If I’d known an old StarCraft aluminum liner fishing boat was all it was going to take; I would have brought you here a long time ago.” Cash walks up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. “God. You look so sexy when your hair blows in the wind like that.”

  I turn around, letting him cage me against the railing. If I shift even an inch, my entire body will brush up against him. Before I have to decide, Cash moves closer, and the warmth from him makes me want to never leave this porch. His eyes meet mine, and he smiles—a slow sexy smile that doesn’t help my weak knees.

  “Fuck, Mittens, I told you I planned on being a gentleman this weekend. But it’s becoming next to impossible. Especially with you looking at me like that.” He stokes my hip. “I’m dying to kiss you.” He brushes his finger over my lips. “Touch you.” He slips his hand up the back of my shirt. “Hear you scream my name.” His other hand cradles my cheek, his lips hovering over mine.

  “Then what are you waiting for?” I ask.

  He pushes me against the railing and covers my mouth with his. I open to him with one probe from his demanding tongue. Both his hands find my hips and he hoists me up on top of the railing, shifting me until his throbbing mass settles between my open thighs. His mouth tastes so good. His kiss takes my breath away.

  His mouth leaves mine and I close my eyes, tilting my head back and reveling in the tiny kisses he presses along my neck. I fist my hands though his hair and he moves slowly, past my collar bone and along my shoulder. When I open my eyes, I see a blonde girl about my age with her hair pulled into a low ponytail walking up the porch steps with a guy with short, dark hair. Cash turns around to face the couple approaching us as I slide down from the railing and stand behind him. Their eyes are on us. Not moving or shifting. A small smile is on her lips, but his expression as he watches Cash looks like he’s seen a ghost.

  Cash takes a step towards them. “Anna? Jake?”

  “Shit, Brooks. I told Anna I saw a limo driving through town.” He cautiously approaches Cash. “God it’s been a while, eh? What are you doing here?”

  Cash looks back at me, his eyes apologetic. For what, I am not quite sure. “Quinn, meet Jake and his twin sister, Anna. Jake, Anna, this is Quinn, the Marketing Coordinator for the Bruisers. I brought her here for the weekend to give her a little taste of Newfie life.”

  Anna takes a step forward and holds out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  I slip my hand into hers and shake it. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

  “We’re old friends of Cash, you know, before he became all famous,” Jake teases, wiggling his eyebrows at him.

  “It’s good to see you, man.” Cash lets out a nervous sigh and runs his hand through his hair. “You too, Anna.”

  “I’m sorry we just dropped by like this, but we had to see if it was you. We haven’t seen you since Danny’s grandmother’s funeral,” Anna says in a concerned tone. Cash shifts uncomfortably and clears his throat. An awkward beat of silence descends before Anna asks. “So…how long are you two planning on staying in Paradise?”

  “Till Sunday.” Cash nods over to his boat. “We were about to take a spin on the lake, cast some rods and hopefully catch some fish.”

  “Do you have any plans tomorrow night?” Jake asks, oblivious to Cash’s attempted dismissal.

  “Actually, we were going to—”

  “You should come by Mike’s place,” Jake says, cutting Cash off mid-sentence. “Everyone would love to see you. He’s throwing one of his epic parties.”

  “Who’s Mike?” I ask, intrigued.

  “Another old friend,” Cash leans back against the deck, annoyed. “Do you really think that me going to Mike’s is a good idea? Will Billy be there?”

  “Probably. They are brothers.” Jake inhales before blowing air out long and slow. “It’s been three years, Cash. Come by, please. Mike will want to see you.”

  “I’d like to go,” I pipe up, seeing Cash’s jaw tick.

  “I like this girl already,” Jake says, and a smile spreads across his face in an approving way.

  “We can pick you guys up, if you want to come with us.” Anna shifts her eyes between me and Cash with a cute and convincing smile on her face. “Come on, Cash. We never ever see you anymore.”

  Cash shrugs with a reluctant nod.

  Anna squeals and gives him a hug. He stiffens at
her embrace. “Relax, Anna, it’s just a party.” Letting out an awkward chuckle, he pushes her back a fraction.

  “I know, but it’s nice to have you back.” She smiles, then looks over at me and gives me a wink. “And it’s nice to see you with someone who isn’t—”

  “Alright, Anna.” Jake cuts her off and wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her backward. “We’ll pick you up tomorrow night at eight. Have fun on the lake. See you tomorrow.”

  I wave. “Bye, it was nice to meet you.”

  “See you tomorrow night,” Anna calls over her shoulder as they walk down the steps.

  When they are out of sight, I turn and look at Cash. His eyes are focused and staring into the distance. His hands grip down onto the railing and his shoulders are hunched. He looks like he is in thought, mulling and reeling over something. Stepping towards him, I take a deep breath. “You okay?”

  He shakes his head. “No, I’m not okay. Why did you say you wanted to go?”

  I shrug. “They seemed really nice and they sounded like they really wanted you there. They are your friends, right?”

  Cash turns around to face me and his hands slip around my waist, until his fingers brush the curve of my bottom. “Did you ever think that maybe I wanted to be alone with you?”

  “You’re the one who said you brought me here to give me a taste of Newfie life, so wouldn’t a party with a bunch of Newfoundlanders seem like a good place to start?” I glance up at him through my long lashes with a coy smile.

  He lets out a throaty growl and slips his hands lower until they are cupping my ass. “Alright Mittens, point taken. Now get your sexy little ass on my boat. We have some fishing to do.”

  Naturally, like any other city girl sitting on a boat holding a fishing rod in her hands I have no idea what I am doing. Cash sits at the bow and places a minnow on the end of his hook. He casts it into the water then takes my rod from my hands and baits it with a minnow and gives it back to me.

  I will never ever get used to him as an outdoors man even though he looks extremely hot in a flannel shirt rolled up to elbows and a backwards baseball cap. My eyes absorb every inch of him from behind my sunglasses. The scruffy jaw. The piercing blue eyes. A sexy smirk. A crooked nose. He turns to me with a smile on his face, his expression telling me he’s enjoying the thought of seeing me adapt in the wilderness.

  “Do you even know how to cast a line?”

  My face heats when those dancing blue eyes start scanning my face, silently laughing at my inexperience. He’s clearly amused by my lack of country living.

  “I’m a city girl. I know how to buy it. Not catch it.”

  He climbs across the boat with fluid movement and then slides in behind me, slowly, placing his powerful legs on either side of me. His hands cover mine and his mouth presses against my ear. “Lift, pull back and release.”

  Just like his words, he pushes my index finger upward to slack the line. He guides my hands as we pull back the rod and then flick it forward to release the line into the water. The air between us is charged as he pulls away freeing me from his distracting and intoxicating scent.

  “Congratulations on casting your first line.”

  “Thanks,” I reply.

  I sit motionless in my seat, watching the line sink lower and lower into the calm dark waters. So here I am, on a boat, alone, in Canada, with Cash Brooks, my body acutely aware and my heart pounding at how surreal this is. If someone had told me yesterday that this is how I would have been spending my Friday night, I would have told them they were crazy.

  “You okay, Mittens?” he asks, tossing a bunch of trail mix into his mouth from the other side of the boat. “You’re not a fish lover are you? Because we’re going to keep them once we catch them, and eat them. You know that, right?”

  My mouth is dry and a thousand and one conflicting thoughts swirl in my head about how scary and real my feelings are for him. I turn to face him. And then, he’s beside me.

  “I’m not a fish lover,” I ramble, watching his blue eyes studying me. “I mean I like fish. Eating it. I haven’t caught one yet. But I’m sure I’ll like it.”

  He runs his thumb slowly along my cheek. “Really? Because you still look terrified.”

  I helplessly let me gaze run up and down his perfect athletic form. I am terrified. He makes me want things and feel a way I’m not ready for. Suddenly, my hands are jerked forward and my rod bends, pulling me slightly off my seat.

  “Shit, Mittens. You got one.” Cash’s hands clamp around my reel and he tugs hard at the rod, mounting the fish on the end of my hook.

  Seeing him so excited for me makes me want him like my next breath. He starts cheering me on and moves away from me to let me reel in my catch. The fish fights back dragging me closer to the edge of the boat. I shriek a bit from the force, but my body wakes up with sensation as his strong and powerful arms wrap around me. He tugs my rod with me, successfully reeling in my first catch.

  In one swift motion, Cash leans forward and grabs the flailing fish with his bare hands, pulls out a mallet and whacks it over the head. In its now lifeless state, he tosses it to me and I catch the huge ugly and slimy thing with a smile.

  “It’s disgusting!” I laugh. “What is it?”

  “It’s a lake trout.” Cash beams at me. “And it’s huge. I can’t believe your pretty manicured hands are holding that mammoth fish right now. It’s pretty sexy if you ask me.”

  I blush and toss the fish back at him. “This is fun. I want to catch another one.”

  He tosses the fish to the bottom of the boat and steps forward without removing his gaze from me. My breathing hitches as I watch his face harden and his eyes flash as he takes me in, wearing an oversized sweater and one of his old baseball caps.

  He reaches for my cap and removes it from my head, and my airway constricts when I feel his large hand move around my neck as he pulls me against his chest and parts his mouth on mine. Our breaths mingle, and a delicious shiver runs through me as his lips pull me apart and our tongues flick out. He draws back with a wicked grin on his face.

  He runs his hands up my body. “God Quinn. I could watch you catch fish all day. Hell I’d watch you do pretty much anything if I could see you smile like that again.” He softly laughs and hands me my rod.

  Blushing, I wrap my finger around the rod and gently tug it from his hands. “Then move out of my way and let me catch another.” I grin and make my second cast.

  Six fish and two hours later, gray clouds start rolling in and a misty drizzle moistens my face. With our fish strung along the side of the boat, Cash begins driving us back to shore. He tosses me a bright yellow rain poncho from one the secret compartments at the sight of me shivering with frizzy hair sitting at the stern.

  “You okay?” He asks over the roar of the motor.

  I nod, feeling raindrops hit the tip of my nose.

  “We’re almost there,” he says with a wink. “You’re a trooper, Mittens.”

  Ten minutes later, Cash pulls us into the boathouse and docks the boat. The rain is pounding down on us and Cash is sopping wet. My poncho doesn’t cover my bottom half and my legs are freezing from being pelted by the cold droplets. We run as fast as we can up onto the porch. Cash yanks open the sliding glass doors and we step inside the warm interior, laughing.

  When our eyes lock, he pushes back my wet and mangled hair placing his hands on either side of my face. I’m dying with want. With recklessness. With anticipation. He smiles down at me and his rough voice whispers against my lips. “I’m done with being a gentleman.”

  The instant he takes my lips; fireworks shoot off from my body.

  All the pent-up fear of becoming lost to him disappears in this one moment. I was never going to be able to win against this connection between us. No matter how hard I fight it, it will never go away. Everything that I have worked so hard for, is lost in this moment. Nothing could ever tear us apart. I grip his face between my hands and smile devilishly against his
lips. “You were never very good at being a gentleman, anyway.”

  Chapter 13

  My hands roam Cash’s body frantically, reaching for the hem of his wet shirt and peeling it off in one easy swoop. He sucks on my bottom lip, kissing me with a hunger that is almost strong enough to be frightening, pinning me against the sliding doors and driving his mouth into mine. His hands run down my sides and grip my hips before he unzips my jeans and drops them to the floor. I wrap my arms and legs around him, running my hands through his wet and mangled hair. We bump into the wall, the record player and the couch, shifting and pulling at each other in desperation. Our kisses are frantic, our touches wild.

  The pressure of his throbbing cock against my sex feels amazing and the way his lips and the coarse stubble on his face rubs roughly against my lips, chin and neck is overwhelming. Cash is all around me, tasting me, feeling me, kissing me, but it’s not enough. I want more. Harder.

  I run my hands along his stomach and reach for his belt. I unbuckle it as fast as I can, dropping his pants to the floor before slowly sliding my hand down to his throbbing mass, stroking it. He groans into my mouth from my touch, pulls me closer and guides me onto the couch.

  “I’m dying to be inside you.” His voice is rough with need. My breathing catches at feeling his finger slide along the wet silk crotch of my panties. “Is that what you want?”

  I squirm against him, those words amp the fire inside of me to new heights. “Yes,” I pant out, breathless.

  He slides his fingers inside my sex and leans down and kisses along my neck in a single, smooth movement. His touch sends a wave of pleasure to sizzle through me. He slides another finger inside me and all I can stifle out is another pleasurable moan, grinding myself against him.

  “Promise me something,” he whispers along the crook of my neck, slowing his rhythmic movements against my clit.

  “Anything,” I say, arching my back to feel him push deeper inside me.

  “Promise me, you’ll never forget this moment.” He withdraws his fingers, sweeping across my sensitive skin, eliciting an involuntary shudder. I look up at him and his eyes are hooded with worry and maybe even a sliver of guilt as they stare back into mine. A tiny beat of silence passes between us as he gently places a kiss on my lips. “No matter what happens after this weekend, promise me you won’t forget,” he whispers.

 

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