by Leanne Banks
“Future? How do you know I don’t have a boyfriend right now?” she asked. “I don’t, but I certainly could. There are even some men who think I’m attractive, some who ask me to go out with them.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. And you be careful about those guys. You make sure they have the right intentions.”
She shot him a playfully sly look so seductive he almost dropped his beer. “What would you say are the right intentions?” she asked.
His tongue stuck in the back of his throat for a few seconds. “I mean just that—you need to make sure they have the right intentions. You shouldn’t let anyone take advantage of you.”
“Unless that’s what I want him to do, right?”
He choked on his beer. Where had this vixen come from? Although she’d been a spirited competitor whenever she’d played games and been far more knowledgeable about sports than most females he knew, Cade had always seen her as Laila’s sweet little sister. “I think it’s time for you to go home. I’m starting to hear things come out of your mouth that aren’t possible.” He waved for the bartender to bring the bill.
“Oh, don’t tell me I scared big, strong Cade Pritchett,” she teased as he finished his beer and tossed some bills on the counter.
“There’s more than one way to scare a man. Let’s go,” he said and ushered her through the bar to the door.
Abby felt higher than a kite. She’d been waiting forever for the time when it was just her and Cade. She’d had a secret crush on Cade since even before her sister had dated him, and watching Laila’s wishy-washy attitude toward Cade had nearly put her over the edge on more than one occasion during the past few years.
But now, she thought, her heart beating so fast she could hardly breathe, she had Cade all to herself, if only for a few more moments. “So is most of your work right now for people who want to get special Christmas gifts?”
“A good bit of it,” he said. “But there’s a potential for a big order. We’ll find out soon.” He stopped abruptly. “Is that old man Henson trying to change a tire on his truck?” he asked, pointing down the street.
Abby tore her gaze from Cade’s and felt a twist of sympathy mixed with alarm. “I think it is. Isn’t he almost eighty-five? He shouldn’t be changing a tire during daylight let alone at this time of night,” she said.
“Exactly,” he said and quickened his pace. “Mr. Henson,” he called. “Let me give you a hand with that.”
Abby joined Cade as they reached the elderly man, who’d already jacked up the truck. “I’m fine,” he said, glancing up at them, his craggy face wrinkled in a wince of pain. “It’s these dang rusted bolts.”
“Let me take a shot at them. Abby, maybe Mr. Henson might like a cup of that hot chocolate I was talking about earlier.”
“I don’t need any hot chocolate,” Henson said. “I’m fine.”
“I’m not,” Abby said. “Would you keep me company while I drink some to warm me up?”
Henson opened his mouth to protest then sighed as he adjusted his hat. “Well, okay. But make it quick. I gotta deliver some wood in the morning.”
Abby shot a quick look at Cade and shook her head. Mr. Henson was legendary for his work ethic. She admired him for it, but she also knew he’d gotten into a few situations where he’d had to be rescued. Flashing Henson a smile, she hooked her arm through his and walked to the café.
She made chitchat with the man while they sat in a booth and waited for their hot chocolate. She noticed Mr. Henson kept glancing out the window. “Your truck will be fine. It’s in good hands with Cade.”
“Oh, I know that,” Mr. Henson said. “Cade’s a fine young man. You’ll do well with him.”
She dropped her jaw at his suggestion then gave a wry laugh. “I think so, too, but I don’t believe he sees me that way, if you know what I mean,” she said and took a sip of the hot drink.
He wrinkled his already deeply furrowed forehead and wiggled his shaggy gray eyebrows. “What do you mean? You’re a pretty girl. I’m sure you turn quite a few heads.”
“Thank you very much,” she said. “That means a lot coming from you.”
“It’s true. I’ve never been known for a silver tongue. My Geraldine, rest her soul, would tell you the same. Although she was the prettiest woman to ever walk the streets of Thunder Canyon. I still miss her.”
Abby slid her hand over Mr. Henson’s. “I’m so sorry. How long were you married?”
“Fifty-three years,” he said. “That’s why I keep working. If I sit at home, I’ll just pine. Better to be moving around, doing something.”
“But you could afford to take a break every now and then. We don’t want anything happening to you,” she said and made a mental note to stop in and visit Mr. Henson. His loneliness tugged at her heart.
He shrugged. “I’ll go when the good Lord says I’m ready, and not a minute before.” He glanced outside the window. “Looks like Cade’s finished changing my tire. We should go now. Let me pay the bill. And don’t you argue with me,” he said when she’d barely let out a sound. “I don’t get to share some hot chocolate with a girl as pretty as you very often these days.”
“And you said you didn’t have a silver tongue,” she said. “Thank you.”
The two left the café and caught up with Cade, who appeared to be looking for a place to wipe some of the grease off his hands. Abby offered the paper napkin she’d wrapped around her cup of hot chocolate.
He made do with it. “Thanks,” he said then glanced at the truck again. “It’s no wonder you had trouble with those bolts. I had to bang on them to get them loose. You’ll get that tire repaired soon, won’t you?” he asked.
“I’ll get to it. I’ll get to it,” Henson said in a testy voice as he inspected the job Cade had done changing his tire. “Thank you,” he said with a nod. “What do I owe you?”
Cade shook his head. “Nothing,” he said.
“Aw, come on. I gotta give you something for your trouble,” Henson said.
“Okay, I’ll tell you what you can give me,” Cade said. “You can stay out of trouble.”
Henson glared at Cade for a moment then laughed. “I’ll see what I can do. Thank you again. And, uh—” He glanced at Abby. “Take care of that pretty girl. You shouldn’t let a good one like her get away.”
Abby shot a quick look at Cade’s disconcerted expression. Her face flamed with heat and she quickly focused her attention on her hot chocolate—blowing on it, sipping. “Thanks for the hot chocolate, Mr. Henson. Good night, now,” she said.
She stood beside Cade as the old man got into the car and drove away.
“I’ll give you a ride home. My car’s just down the street. That Henson is a character, isn’t he?” Cade muttered, leading her to his vehicle.
“I have to agree. So are you,” she said, wishing the evening wouldn’t end.
He opened the car door and glanced at her. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” she said. “You’re always trying to stay in the background, but here you go again saving the day.”
“What do you mean?” he asked as he started the car.
“I mean you’re always rescuing somebody. It’s just what you do. White Knight syndrome?”
He looked at her for a long moment with an expression on his face that made her breath stop in her chest. He looked at her as if he were seeing her as more than Laila’s little sister. “I didn’t think anyone noticed,” he finally said.
“Of course I notice,” she managed in a voice that sounded breathless to her own ears.
He glanced away and put the car in gear, driving toward her home. Abby was torn between relief and disappointment. She had wanted that sliver of a moment to continue, yet she could breathe a little better now.
“Is that an official diagnosis? White Knight syndrome?” he asked, his mouth lifting in a half grin of amusement.
“No. I don’t think you’re clinically maladjusted. You’re just a good man,” she said, although good wa
s putting it lightly. Cade was much more than a good man.
He glanced at her and chuckled. “Thank you. I feel better.”
“That will be five dollars,” she said and laughed at his sideways glance at her. “Just kidding. I’m not licensed to practice.”
They approached her street and her stomach knotted. She tried to think of a way to continue this special time. She didn’t want it to end. “I always thought that was strange. A doctor practices medicine. An attorney practices law. What if they have a lousy day practicing?”
Cade pulled the car to a slow stop and shifted into Park. “Good point. I try to avoid both if possible.”
Abby drank in the sight of him, meeting his watchful blue gaze and noting the vapor of his breath from his mouth. His strong chin matched his character and determination and his broad shoulders had always made her think he could carry anything life threw at him. He’d suffered some deep losses. She knew that beneath that sheepskin jacket, his muscles were well developed from the times he’d played touch football with her extended family in the backyard.
She knew a lot about him, but she wanted to know so much more. She wanted to slide underneath that jacket and feel him against her. Maybe it was time to take a chance. A crazy chance. Her heart raced so fast she felt lightheaded.
“I’ve always liked your eyes,” she said in a low voice.
His gaze widened in surprise. “What?”
“I’ve always liked your eyes,” she repeated. “They say so much about you. You have this combination of strength and compassion and the first place you see it is in your eyes.” She bit her lip then leaned closer to him. “Of course, the rest of you isn’t bad, either.”
“It’s not?” he echoed. She saw a lot of curiosity and flickers of sensuality in his gaze.
“Not bad at all,” she said, sliding her hand up the front of his jacket. Taking her courage in her hand, she tugged at his jacket to bring his head closer to hers. Then she pressed her mouth against his, relishing the sensation of his closeness and his lips meshed with hers. He rubbed his mouth against hers and she suddenly felt his hand at her back, drawing her breasts against his chest.
His response sent a flash of electricity throughout her and she opened her lips to deepen the kiss. He took advantage, sliding his tongue inside her. Craving more, she gave what she knew he was asking. Despite the cold temperature, she felt herself grow warmer with every passing second of his caress. Warm enough to strip off her coat and…
Cade suddenly pulled his mouth from hers and stared at her in shock. “What the—” He shook his head and swore, taking a giant step away from her. “I’m sorry.” He swore again. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“But you didn’t start it,” she said, her heart sinking at his response.
He held up his hands. “No, really. I shouldn’t—” He cleared his throat. “You go on home, now. I’ll watch from here.”
“But, Cade—”
“Go inside, Abby,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument.
Still tempted to argue, Abby had pushed her courage as far as it would go tonight. She swung away from him, hopped out of the car and slammed the door behind her. Striding home, she was caught between euphoria and despair. He had kissed her back and he sure seemed to like it. For those few seconds, he had treated her like a woman he desired. This time she hadn’t imagined the way he tasted, the way his lips felt against hers, his hand at her back, urging her closer. This time, it had been real.
But then the man had apologized for kissing her. The knowledge made her want to scream in frustration. Was she back where she’d started? Was she back to being Laila’s little sister?
Chapter Two
Cade would have mainlined his third cup of coffee after lunch if it had been possible. He hadn’t slept well last night and had felt off all day. He stripped another screw for the designer desk he was making for an entertainment hotshot in L.A., and swore under his breath.
His father and partner, Hank, was talking, but Cade was trying to focus on the desk instead of the way Laila’s sister had kissed him last night. And worse yet, he thought, closing his eyes in deep regret, the way he’d kissed her back.
Cade tried to shake off the thoughts and images that had been tormenting him since he’d apologized and burned rubber back to his house. Thoughts about her had haunted him. Her wide brown eyes, her silky, long brown hair and her ruby lips swollen from the friction of his mouth against hers. His own lips burned with the memory, and he rubbed the back of his hand against them, trying to rub away the visual and the guilt. What the hell had he been thinking?
Impatience rushed through him and he grabbed a file. His mind torn in different directions, he stabbed his other hand. Pain seared through him, blood gushed from his hand. Cade swore loudly and stood.
“What are you doing, son?” his father demanded, striding toward him to take a look at Cade’s hand.
“It’s fine,” Cade said. “I’ll bandage it and it will be fine.”
“You better be up-to-date with your tetanus shot,” Hank said.
“I am,” Cade said. “I’m not that stupid.”
“Based on your performance this morning…” his father began.
“Lay off, Dad,” Cade said, looking down at the man who had taught him so much about carpentry and life, the man who’d never recovered from the death of his wife several years ago. None of them had really recovered from the death of Cade’s mother. She’d balanced her husband’s stern taskmaster nature with softness and smiles.
“Son, I don’t want to have to say this, but you need to snap out of your funk. Laila is getting married to someone else, and you’re just going to have to get used to it,” Hank said bluntly.
Shock slapped through Cade as he stared at his father. He opened his mouth to say he hadn’t been thinking about Laila then closed it. He sure as hell didn’t want to tell his father he’d been thinking about Laila’s little sister Abby.
“You bandage up that hand and go check in on the community center. They’ve requested a few things for their Thanksgiving program.”
Cade shook his head. “We don’t have time for me to go to the community center now. We have too much work.”
Hank shook his head. “Get some air, do something different. You’ll come back better than ever.”
“You know that since we’re equal partners, you can’t be giving orders,” Cade said.
Hank sighed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, consider it a request from your elderly father.”
Cade felt a twitch of amusement. His father was still a hard driver, especially in the shop. “Elderly my—”
“Get on out of here,” Hank said.
Cade pulled on his jacket and walked out the door, feeling his father’s gaze on him as he left. He didn’t want his father worrying about him. With a few exceptions during his teen years, Cade had made a point of not causing his parents much grief. Once his mother had gotten sick, his younger brothers had acted up, and Cade knew his father had needed to be able to rely on him. Work had gotten them through the rough times, and for Cade, the loss hadn’t stopped with his mother. There’s been Dominique and he’d felt the promise of happiness with her before she’d been taken from him.
Stepping outside the shop, he walked toward the community center a few blocks away. He shook his head, willing the cold air to clear it. He shouldn’t be thinking about Abby. It was wrong in so many ways. Putting his mind on the community center’s Thanksgiving needs should point him in a different direction. He welcomed the change.
Cade walked inside the glass door of the community center and headed toward the gym at the back of the building. He pushed open the door and his breath hitched at the sight before him. The object of his distraction handed a baby to the community center’s children’s director, Mrs. Wrenn, and began to climb a ladder holding a humongous horn of plenty.
“What the hell?” he muttered, walking toward the front of the room.
Abby continued to climb
the ladder while she lugged the horn of plenty upward. Cade couldn’t permit her to continue. “Stop,” he said, his voice vibrating against the walls.
Abby toppled at the sound of his voice and whipped her head in his direction. “Cade?”
“Stay right there,” he said, closing the space between him and the ladder. He grabbed each side of the metal ladder. “Okay, you can come down now.”
Abby’s hair swinging over her shoulders, she frowned at him. “Why? I’ve just got a little farther to go.”
“Not while I’m here,” he said, his voice sounding rough to his own ears.
Abby shook her head. “But it won’t take another minute for me to finish—”
“Come down,” he said. “It’s not safe. I’ll handle it.”
She paused long enough to make him uncomfortable. “Abby,” he said.
“Okay, okay, but I was doing fine before you got here,” she said, descending the ladder.
“That’s a matter of opinion,” he muttered under his breath as he watched her bottom sway as she wobbled.
She missed the last step and fell against him. He caught her tight and absently grabbed the horn of plenty, his heart pounding.
“Oops,” she said after the fact.
Some part of him took note of the sensation of her breasts against his chest, her pelvis meshed against his as she slid downward. His brain scrambled, but he fought it.
“I really would have been fine,” she insisted.
“Yeah,” he said, unable to keep the disbelief from his voice. “I’ll handle the rest of this.”
“You’re not being sexist, are you?” she demanded. “Because I really can do this.”
Cade felt his heart rate rise again. “Not sexist,” he said. “Just practical. I’m more athletic than you are.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I played soccer and—”
“I have more upper-body strength,” he said, deciding to end the argument once and for all.
He felt Abby’s admiring gaze over his broad shoulders. “I can’t argue with that,” she said.
