by Cindy Kirk
It was almost as if she worried he might change his mind.
There wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening.
“Bed,” he finally managed to utter when they came up for air.
“Too many clothes.” Marigold’s hands stole between them to fumble with his belt buckle.
He brushed her frantic fingers aside. After shutting the blinds with one flick of the wrist, Cade made quick work of shedding his clothes.
Hers hit the floor a second later.
They stood staring at each other for several heartbeats.
Cade let his appreciative gaze linger. Marigold was toned and fit, a petite dynamo with a body designed for long nights of making love.
Her chin lifted, those blue eyes glittering in the light.
Stepping forward, Cade lifted a hand and trailed a finger lightly along that stubborn jaw. “You’re every bit as lovely as I remember.”
Marigold’s gaze dropped. “You’re just as impressive.”
He grinned, then slanted a glance at the bed, frowned. “It’s—”
“Too lovely to mess up?”
“I was about to say ‘too froufrou.’”
She laughed as she turned to carefully pull back the duvet.
Cade supposed he could have waited, but the sight of that gorgeous, naked body bent over the bed was much too enticing. He stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
Evidence of his arousal pressed against her backside as his hands closed over her breasts.
“Ah.” Her breath came out in a shudder. She straightened and arched back against his chest, eyes half-closed.
He nuzzled the sensitive skin behind her ear. When she moaned, he realized this was going to move at warp speed.
Condoms.
He groaned. Swore.
Marigold lifted her head, her breath now coming in little puffs. “Problem?”
“No protection.” He started to step away, but she turned, encircled his neck with her arms.
“I’m on the pill.” She bit the lobe of his ear. “But I also have condoms. Just picked them up today.”
“At the general store?” Cade wasn’t sure why he found the thought so horrifying.
Marigold laughed, a full-throated, husky sound that turned Cade’s blood to fire. Everything about this woman stirred him, from toes painted a sultry red to that mane of tousled blonde hair.
“No, silly. I swiped them from my sister. She doesn’t need them now.”
Relieved, Cade tugged her even closer. “Be sure and say thanks next time you see her.”
“I’ll leave that to you.”
The teasing lilt to her voice had him nipping her shoulder.
Her fingers returned to play with his hair. “I put the condoms in the top dresser drawer. Do you want to get them? Or should I?”
“Stay right here.” Even though the dresser was mere steps away, he brought his lips to hers for another scorching kiss before retrieving the small box. He tossed it on the nightstand before pulling Marigold to him again. “Miss me?”
“Like you’ve been gone for years.” This time when she lifted her face to his, the kiss was warm and sweet and tender.
A reunion kiss, the kind two lovers might give each other when they’d been apart for a long, long time. As he continued to kiss her, Cade realized just how much he’d missed her. It was as if he’d been waiting for this moment ever since she’d left his bed eighteen months ago.
I was waiting for her.
He found the thought troubling, so he pushed it from his head and concentrated on pleasing the woman in his arms.
Marigold allowed him to lay her on the bed. Looping her arms around Cade’s neck, she pulled him down beside her.
For several heartbeats she stared into his eyes. “From the moment I saw you at Ami’s house on New Year’s Eve, I knew we’d end up here.”
His gaze never left hers. “Why did you kiss Travis?”
“Why did you kiss Eliza?”
“She kissed me.” That steady gaze never wavered. “It didn’t mean anything.”
“I’m not sure who kissed who first with Travis. But I kissed him the second time because I knew you were watching and I was pissed about Eliza.”
“Fair enough.” With one finger, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You appeared to enjoy it.”
“It was like kissing my brother.” She wrinkled her nose. “If I had a brother, which I don’t.”
The tension in his jaw relaxed.
“Now that we’ve got all that settled.” Marigold planted kisses along his jaw. “How about we quit talking?”
He trailed one hand all the way down to her hip, then back up again, his thumbs resting just under her breasts. “Your skin is as soft as these sheets.”
“Kiss me.” She breathed the words, her eyes dark with desire. “Touch me. I need—for you to touch me.”
“Let me compare.” He brushed the palm of his hand against the sheets, then returned it to her body, placing it just below her belly. He smiled. “Yep, just as soft.”
Marigold groaned. “If I had a gun, I’d point it at your head and tell you to quit joking and get to work.”
“Ah, Goldilocks.” His hand moved lower. “Your words are music to my ears.”
Chapter Eight
“Definitely looks like the business is taking off.” Marigold stood with Cade at the bottom of the steps leading up to Bayside Pizza.
Though the building was new, it had a rustic look with weathered wood siding and a deck that encircled the entire building. Heat lamps were strategically positioned, but missing were the tables and chairs that would dot the deck springtime through fall. Winter still held a grip on Good Hope, and even the hardiest of residents wouldn’t opt for an outside table with temperatures dipping to the twenties at night.
The windows facing out over the water, triple-paned and large, allowed diners to be comfortable while enjoying a stellar view of Green Bay.
“Now, are you glad we decided to come out?”
“I wasn’t averse to leaving the apartment.”
Cade shot her a skeptical glance.
“I wasn’t,” Marigold insisted. “I simply didn’t want you to feel obligated to take me out because we had this scheduled for tonight.”
“I wanted to take you out on a date.” He grinned at the glance she sent him. “Okay, I’d rather have stayed in, but this way we can pick up a take-out menu for future reference.”
Marigold liked the sound of for future reference. Although their relationship would soon come to an end, that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the moment. “I can’t believe they don’t have a menu on their website.”
“What website?” He chuckled.
“I know. What business doesn’t have a website?” Her smile faded. How could she have forgotten something so basic. “Which reminds me. I need to update mine. It still shows I’m with Steffan.”
A blast of wind off the bay had her shivering and climbing the stairs to the restaurant’s entrance. Looking forward to getting inside out of the weather, she reached for the door handle. Cade beat her to it.
Marigold stepped inside and simply stood there for a moment, reveling in the air pumping like a steam engine from a heat duct overhead. Once sufficiently warmed, she slowly unwound the black scarf curled like a python around her neck and let it hang loose.
Cade took her coat, stuffed the scarf into one sleeve, then draped it over his arm.
“You have a website?”
“I do.” Until this moment, she hadn’t given a single thought to all the changes that would need to be made. “I even have a blog incorporated into it, one I’ve seriously neglected this past week. It’s called Naturally Curlylocks, and I give advice to clients with—”
He held up a hand, stopping her. “Let me guess. Those with curly hair?”
“Ding. Ding. Ding.” She smiled. “We’ve got a winner.”
“What’s my prize?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.<
br />
“I’ll give that some thought and let you know.” She stepped into the line that snaked to the reception stand. “In the meantime, I don’t suppose you could give me the name of someone who does website updates? I used Steffan’s guy before, but . . .”
Marigold let her voice trail off. While she’d been an employee of the Steffan Oliver Salon, Steffan had covered all costs of not only the salon’s website but those of the individual stylists, as well. Now that train had left the station and she was on her own.
“I bet your father or your sisters know some tech-savvy kid looking to earn a few bucks.” Cade rested his palm against the base of her spine as they moved slowly forward in line.
Marigold’s heart performed a series of flutters, and she found herself leaning back slightly, reveling in the touch. Perhaps they should have stayed in bed . . . she shoved the thought aside and refocused. “Did you say you knew someone?”
“No. I said you should ask your family.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Marigold ignored the puzzled look in his eyes. Her mind had been elsewhere, that’s all. When she was young, mishearing what she’d been told had been more of an issue. It rarely happened now. “I’ll check with the family tomorrow.”
Cade was still looking at her oddly when Marigold heard her name. She turned to see Vanessa Eden, stylish as always in a wool jacket the color of ripe plums, striding toward her.
Max’s mother gave her a quick hug. “My son mentioned you were back. It’s so good to see you.”
Though the woman had to be close to fifty, Vanessa could easily pass for forty. Fit and trim, there wasn’t a single bag or sag visible. The blunt-cut blonde hair that brushed her shoulders flattered a pretty face, free of lines.
The wrap coat emphasized her slim figure and long legs, encased in black leather boots. From behind thickly mascaraed lashes, she gave Marigold the once-over, nodded approval. “I hear you’re opening a new salon.”
Marigold tried not to wince.
“While I’m in town, I’ll be seeing clients in the location where”—she swallowed hard and forced out the words—“Carly’s Cut and Curl used to be.”
“Poor Carly tried. Hair just wasn’t her thing. Between those dancing scissors and poodle paper . . .” Vanessa grimaced ever so slightly. “Even if she’d been the best in town, I couldn’t get past the ambiance.”
Though Marigold heartily agreed, she settled for a simple smile. She’d learned long ago it was best not to say anything negative about another stylist—or her digs—no matter how well-deserved.
An attractive, dark-haired man in his midthirties who’d been weaving his way through tables in the dining area approached Vanessa with a broad smile. “I worried you weren’t going to make it.”
“Busy day at the Garden.” Vanessa sighed, referring to her business, the Garden of Eden, a full-service garden center and nursery at the edge of town. “Paperwork is just not my thing.”
“You’d rather stab an ice pick in your eye,” the man teased.
“Exactly.” Vanessa laughed and slipped her arm through his. “You know me so well.”
“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Marigold had racked her brain trying to place the attractive man with the broad shoulders and brown eyes but came up empty. He and Vanessa seemed well acquainted. Could he be a friend of Max’s? “I’m Marigold Bloom, Max’s sister-in-law.”
Before she could continue and introduce Cade, the man extended his hand. “Adam Vogele. I farm between Good Hope and Egg Harbor. I grow organic produce.”
“I bet those crops include cherries.” As red tart cherries were the main crop on the peninsula, Marigold didn’t know of a single farmer who didn’t set aside some land for orchards.
Adam nodded, his brown eyes warm with good humor.
“Adam and I are here to do some strategizing with Travis Forbes and a group of other Good Hope citizens on what we can do to help get our local boy elected.” Vanessa smiled. “You and your friend are welcome to join us.”
Only then did Marigold realize that Cade wasn’t acquainted with Vanessa. When she glanced in his direction she saw amusement, rather than annoyance, in Cade’s gray eyes.
“I don’t think so, but I appreciate the invitation.” Marigold slipped her arm through Cade’s and smiled brightly at Vanessa. “I don’t believe you’ve met our current sheriff, Cade Rallis.”
“It didn’t take them long to beat a hasty retreat.” Marigold spoke quietly to Cade as the hostess showed them to a rustic wooden table that still had bark on the legs.
“They appeared embarrassed, but there’s no reason.” Once seated, Cade lifted one of the menus and handed it to Marigold before opening his own. “I knew coming in I would likely face an uphill battle in retaining the position. When I met with Len, he told me straight out that one of his deputies desperately wanted the position. In the end, he and Jeremy felt my experience in managing a squad and the wide breadth of my background made me a better choice.”
“They made the right decision.”
He smiled. “That’s kind of you to say.”
“I’m rarely kind, but I am honest.” Marigold studied his face. “What are you going to do if you lose the election?”
He flipped to the next page in the menu without glancing down. “I’m not going to lose.”
“I admire confidence as much as the next gal, but surely you have a contingency plan.”
“Welcome to Bayside Pizza.” The waitress had dark, curly brown hair and a bright smile. “May I get you something to drink while you look at the menus?”
A flicker of recognition stirred, but Marigold looked to the woman’s name tag for confirmation. “Izzie Deshler. How are you?”
A startled look crossed the woman’s face before a smile blossomed. “Oh my goodness, Marigold. I didn’t expect to see you. I thought you were back in Chicago. What brought you back so soon?”
Marigold ignored the question and turned to Cade. “Izzie and I are part of a crew that serves Christmas dinner at Muddy Boots. She’s also the one who did the mural on the café wall.”
Surprise skittered across Cade’s face. “You’re the one who painted the girl in the raincoat splashing up water?”
Izzie flushed. “Yep, that was me.”
“It’s amazing.” Cade’s brows pulled together. “You’re the one I read about in last week’s Gazette. You’re the one Jeremy appointed to spearhead the alley art project.”
“That’s right.” Pride filled Izzie’s voice. “I was honored to be asked.”
Apparently noticing Marigold’s puzzlement, Cade explained. “The mayor and town board obtained permission from merchants to use the walls of their buildings—the ones facing alleys—as canvases. Izzie here will do some of the art but will also recruit national artists as well as local ones to paint the murals.”
“Wow. I’m even more impressed.” Marigold sat back in her chair and simply stared.
“It’s a fabulous opportunity.” Izzie’s dark eyes snapped with excitement. “If you know any talented locals who might be interested, send them my way. Beck has my contact information. It was in the article as well.”
“I recently came across some really impressive graffiti on one of the alley walls—” Cade began.
“The black-and-white screaming faces?” Izzie interrupted.
Cade nodded.
“If you run across the artist, send him or her to me.”
“I’ll have to arrest them first.”
A startled look crossed Izzie’s face.
“Ma’am.” A woman at a nearby table lifted her empty glass.
“I’ll get you more tea right away.” Izzie offered the woman a bright smile before turning back to Cade and Marigold. “It’s extra busy tonight because we have a group working on some election stuff that’s taking up a number of tables. If you know what you want to drink—”
“Really quick. In terms of the election,” Marigold met Izzie’s gaze and gestured. “This is Cade Rallis and h
e’s running for sheriff. He has my endorsement and the backing of the entire Bloom family. I hope you’ll consider him when it’s time to vote.”
“Pleased to meet you and I definitely—” Izzie paused, sighed when the woman at the nearby table jiggled the ice in her glass. “Do you know what you’d like to drink?”
While something warm sounded good, Marigold was in the mood to venture on the wild side. Or at least as wild as it got in Good Hope. “I’ll try the maple lemonade.”
Cade closed his menu. “Make that two.”
Marigold’s surprise must have shown, because Cade grinned, then shrugged. “Always good to venture out of your comfort zone.”
On that they were in total agreement.
After writing down their drink order, Izzie glanced up from her notepad. “I don’t want to rush you, but if you know what you want, I can get your order in before the large group. Otherwise it may be a while for your food to come out.”
“Appreciate the heads-up.” Cade met Marigold’s gaze. “Why don’t you order for both of us? Anything is fine with me.”
“Are you sure?” Marigold’s brows drew together. “You might not like what I choose.”
“It appears we’re both in the mood to live dangerously.” He relaxed back in his chair, shot her a warm smile. “As evidenced by the maple lemonade order.”
Thirty minutes later, Cade finished the last bite of his goat cheese salad and reached for another piece of the lobster pizza. Instead of cutting off a bite, he simply lifted a slice in his hand.
He let the lobster and asparagus with ricotta linger on his tongue for a moment before swallowing. “I don’t know if it’s this mix of ingredients or that they bake it in a wood-fired oven, but this pie is tasty.”
Marigold considered telling him he should let her order every time they came here but swallowed the words along with another bite of pizza. There was no way of knowing how long she’d be in Good Hope. This might be the only time they’d share a meal.
“Seriously, you hit it out of the ballpark with this selection.” Cade smiled as a high-school-aged boy scooped up their empty salad bowls and hurried off as if racing toward first base. “The goat cheese salad was another home run.”
