by Jen Talty
A long comfortable silence settled over them as the night sky darkened. She knew she should excuse herself and go home. The longer she stayed in Cade’s presence, the more she wanted to snuggle up against him, resting her head on his strong chest. To feel his comforting arms around her body, holding her.
She blinked.
Cade wasn’t the man for her. He was the kind of man who wanted someone he could protect and take care of. He needed a woman who wanted to make him the center of her world.
She wasn’t that woman.
“What are your bringing to the barbeque tomorrow?”
His husky tone lulled her from the insanity that was her mind.
“We’re just supposed to bring a small side dish that we could share with four or five people and our own drinks, right?” A slow smiled spread across her cheeks. The excitement of being at a relaxed neighborhood picnic bubbled in her tummy. The normalcy of it all made her want to skip down the street. Seeing Jeff again tonight made her realize how much she hated his lifestyle, but because she thought she loved him, she did her best to fit in.
The only problem with that was Jeff never tried to fit into hers. He didn’t like her friends and certainly wouldn’t spend any time with them, demanding she spent her spare time with the wives of his friends, all of whom were members at the country club.
“That’s right.”
“What are you bringing?”
“I was going to bring those ribs we ate for dinner, but now I have no idea.” He smiled like a little boy with his fingers caught in the cookie jar. “Maybe I could just go in on your dish, you know, since we’ll be sitting with one another.”
“Well, since I already ate your dish that you were planning to take, I guess it’s only fair.” She laughed. “But you have to help me make it.”
Oh, no he doesn’t! Why the hell did she say that?
“Do you have all the ingredients?”
“You’re not suggesting we make it now, are you?”
“No time like the present.” He leapt to his feet, holding his hand out. “I’ve got a nice bottle of red. I’ll bring it over.”
“Maybe you should save the wine for tomorrow?” The way her hand fit in his sent a warm tingle across her skin like warm chocolate sauce drizzled over a cake.
“Good idea.” He held her hand as she rose, not letting go when she was on her feet.
He gazed into her eyes and her toned muscles turned to soft butter.
“I’ll just get a couple more beers,” he said softly.
His warm breath tickled her skin, causing a slight shiver.
“Sounds good.”
He squeezed her hand, then let it go. “I’ll be over in five minutes.”
“Come in the back door.” She stepped around him and headed for home. Her heart hammered in her chest in rhythm with the crickets. She should yell back and tell him it was too late. That they could make it in the morning.
But damn it, she didn’t want to.
For the first time in a long time, she was enjoying herself, and Cade was her neighbor and her friend. That was it. Nothing more. Tomorrow wasn’t a date, they were just going to sit together.
Yeah, right.
She pushed all the crazy thoughts from her head as she hurried to get out all the ingredients. Guacamole was such an easy thing to make, she almost felt guilty that was all she was bringing, until she looked at the pile of avocados on her counter.
Her kitchen had been recently updated with all new stainless-steel appliances, which was nice, but she wasn’t overly fond of the burnt-orange tint of the cabinets that cast a fiery glow on her black, speckled countertops. As soon as she had the money, she’d be replacing those ugly cabinets for white ones, which would look gorgeous against the granite top.
“Knock, knock,” Cade said, holding two bottles of beer in his hand as he pulled open the back door. “What shall I do?”
“Chop onions.” She pointed to the cutting board with five red onions and a knife waiting to make a grown man cry. She giggled at the thought.
“What’s so funny?”
She looked up at him and his soft smile sent all sorts of tingly messages to places in her body a man had not touched in a long time. “You chopping onions and crying.”
“If you don’t touch your face while chopping them up, your eyes won’t water.”
She glanced between the onions and Cade. “Might work for one onion, but I’ll bet you tears will be rolling down your cheeks by the time you hit the fifth onion.”
“Oh, you are so gonna loose,” he said as he lifted the knife, slicing down the middle of one of the onions. “But let’s make this fun. If I don’t cry, you have to wash my truck.”
“That’s an odd bet.” She cut open an avocado, focusing on the task at hand, not the man handling an onion.
“It’s dirty and I was planning on doing it in the morning. If you do it, I can watch some college football before the picnic.”
“I’d have to do it in the morning?”
He nodded.
“And if you cry, and I win?”
“Name it.”
“Hmmmmmmm. My car isn’t dirty, so…” Mentally, she went through her long to do list around the house, but nothing really jumped out at her, until she moved her thoughts to her office. “Do you know anything about commercial fire alarms?”
“A little. I have cousins who own a security company. Why?”
“The one in the office is busted. I have to get it fixed and the company that does the monitoring says it’s not their equipment, so they’re not responsible for it.”
“I don’t know if I could do that tomorrow and I work Sunday, but I could stop by on my way home on Monday and take a look.” He nudged her with his hip. “But only if I cry.” He waved the onion under his nose. “Smells so good.”
“You’re so weird.”
He laughed.
Minutes ticked by and the man hadn’t shed a single tear. Not even a little water pooled up in the corner. She mashed the avocado in a big bowl, adding in the other ingredients, including some of the onions he’d chopped up. Tears stung her eyes.
He set the knife down and leaned against the counter. “Looks like someone’s going to be washing a truck in the morning.”
“Wonderful,” she said as she put the guacamole in containers.
Cade moved to the sink. She was about to tell him not to bother with the dishes, but then she remembered she’d be washing his truck. “I can only imagine what Mrs. Baker is going to say about me cleaning your vehicle that Suzie will misconstrue.”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Cade said, his biceps flexing as he scrubbed the cutting board. “It will have something to do with my hose. Like how you were playing with it.”
“I can’t believe you just said that!” She snagged a dish towel and tossed it at him.
“Wait 'til I hand you my hose tomorrow morning.” He looked over his shoulder and winked.
“A fireman who tells hose jokes about himself, how novel.”
He laughed. “You don’t have to wash my truck. I was half kidding.”
“Nope. A bet is a bet.” She breezed by him, patting his shoulder. She couldn’t help it. She gave it a little squeeze, then headed to the fridge in hopes to cool down her flushed cheeks.
Oy.
After putting all the dip in the fridge, she turned and gasped as she walked right into Cade’s sold chest. “Shit, sorry.”
He set something down on the counter. “No problem.” His hands gripped her arms, holding her steady as she lifted her gaze. “I should have warned you I was standing behind you.”
His dark eyes drew her in and she found herself leaning toward him.
She licked her lips, wishing she wasn’t so aware of the action, much less that when she took in a deep breath, her breasts brushed against him.
“I find myself liking you,” he said softly. His husky voice laced with a tinge of vulnerability. “And not because your pretty, though you are, but becaus
e you’re nice to be around. Fun. Easy to talk to.”
Her head spun as he spouted off all his reasons in rapid fire succession.
“I sound like an idiot.” His hands rubbed up and down her arms like her favorite blanket wrapping her body. “I know you’ve been through some tough times and maybe you're not even interested, but I really want to kiss you right now.”
She opened her mouth to tell him no, but nothing came out.
She tried again.
Nothing.
Maybe the third time would be the charm.
“Okay.” That was not the response that had formed in her brain.
The corner of his mouth tipped upward as he lowered his lips to hers. Blinking her eyes closed, she tried to relax her body, which had to be stiffer than a piece of fiberglass.
His hands slipped down her shoulder blades, to her lower back. His lips, barely touching hers, moved over them in a slow, controlled motion. His tongue darted across her lips, parting them, and damn, she responded an urgent hunger.
Another response she didn’t expect.
She placed her hands on his chest. His pecs jerked at her touch. She’d meant to push him away, but instead, she roamed his chest and shoulders, gently massaging his firm muscles.
He increased the pressure, his tongue firmly entwined with hers, as his hands cupped her ass, splitting her mind between the passionate man who held her so tenderly, and the ex-husband who’d put bruises on her body.
She stiffened as she pulled away, letting her hands fall to her side. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let you do that.”
To his credit, he took two steps back, putting a fair distance between them. “Don’t be sorry. I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Maybe not all of it, though I understand betrayal, and it takes time to work through that, but trust me, there will come a time when you'll trust your instincts about people again.”
Blood raced through her body. She wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe he was indeed one of the few good men left.
He gripped the doorknob. “I had a really good time tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stepped through the door, then paused, looking over his shoulder. “Don’t forget to lock up. You’ve got my number if you need me.”
And with that, Cade disappeared into the night, taking her common sense with him.
5
Cade tapped on Heather’s front door, staring at his shiny, clean truck. He had no idea what time she’d gotten up, but by the time he’d rolled out of bed at ten that morning, his truck had already been washed and it appeared she’d even waxed the hood. He’d wanted to talk to her before now, but her SUV had been gone all morning.
Now, two in the afternoon, it was time for the barbeque.
And their date.
His lips warmed as he remembered their earth-shattering kiss.
The front door squeaked opened. He’d have to get some WD-40 to fix that.
“Hey,” she said.
Her sweet smile sent his heart racing. He no longer cared that her hands were instruments of agonizing pain because the rest of her brought his body, mind, and soul to heights of pleasure he’d long forgotten about.
“You’re right on time.”
“I’m known for being punctual,” he said.
“Good trait to have.”
The ease at which they fell into a light conversation, as if they were old friends, stunned him, considering sweat had formed on his palms.
“You did a nice job on my truck, thanks. But I had wanted to watch you.” Geez, he sounded like a rude, horny little bastard.
Thankfully, she let out a small laugh as she pushed open the door letting him in. Last night he’d only seen her kitchen, which the previous owners had partially redone. He glanced around the living room, enjoying her simple, yet elegant taste in décor. The hardwood floor shined as if it were new. Not a speck of dust to be found. A single painting of two chairs looking over a lake lined the wall behind the sofa. A few trinkets and pictures had been placed on a bookshelf.
“Not sure the top of your truck is all that clean. I don’t have a ladder, but I did hose it down.”
He bit his tongue, keeping himself from making a typical fireman and his hose joke. “I have a confession to make.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“I’ve always been immune to onions. I have no idea why, but as a kid, onion chopping was always my job.” He ran his palm over his mouth.
“I’ve learned my lesson to never make a bet with you again.”
He followed her through the house, trying hard not to ogle her ass as it swayed back and forth. “What time did you get up anyway? I was shocked to see a clean truck first thing.”
“About eight. I had some things I had to get done in the office, so I figured it best to get my washing duties out of the way.”
“Mrs. Baker goes for her walk every day at eight.” He cringed. Mrs. Baker was a sweet older lady, but she liked to gossip.
And play matchmaker.
“She made it to your house, stopped, and chatted with me until I was done.”
“Oh, no. What did she say?” he asked, watching Heather duck into the fridge, eyeing her as she bent over. His fingers twitched, wanting to curl around her soft hips again.
STOP!
“What didn’t she say, would be easier to answer.” Heather handed him a couple containers of the Guacamole they’d made the night before, along with a bag to put them in. “If she were thirty or so years younger, she’d be trying to get you into bed.”
He laughed. In her day, he bet Mrs. Baker had been a real looker. “She’s always trying to fix me up.”
“She’s very protective of you.” Heather waved her arm in front of her.
Cade took the hint and headed toward the front door, and his rolling cooler filled with drinks. The barbeque generally lasted till ten in the evening, though families came and went, depending on their schedules.
“She’s that way with everyone.” He held open the door for Heather, wishing his other hand wasn’t filled with food so he could offer it to her, feeling her soft skin against his. “But after my ex-wife cheated on me with someone in the neighborhood—”
“Excuse me? With a neighbor?” Heather stopped at the bottom of the steps and stared at him with wide eyes.
He’d never blurted out who Kim had been sleeping with to anyone. Sure, people in the neighborhood knew. His family knew.
He suspected Kim had been cheating for a while. He figured it had been with someone she worked with or some random stranger. He never imagined it would be with one of their closest friends.
He set the food in the cooler, closing the lid. The anger and betrayal he’d felt the day he found out had long dissipated into blips of sadness that he chose not to let linger in his mind and soul. He wanted to love again. He wanted a partner in life. Only, he hadn’t found anyone he felt he could trust, so he’d given up the hunt.
“Not just a neighbor, but one of her closest friend’s husband, who used to be a friend of mine.”
“What a bitch.” Heather scrunched her nose and pursed her lips as if she’d eaten a rancid pickle drizzled with turpentine.
He laughed, but at her expression more than her words. “My language was a little more colorful than that, and unfortunately, Mrs. Baker heard every word as I tossed my ex-wife’s stuff onto the front lawn.” He glanced over his shoulder, remembering how Kim scrambled to collect her things, screaming back how she never really loved him anyway.
“That had to have caused a ruckus with everyone on the street.”
“Most excitement this neighborhood has seen in a long time.”
“That had to have been hard on you, having the breakup of your marriage displayed like that for everyone to gossip about.”
He sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The humiliation he felt had been the hardest. Not so much that his wife cheated, but that it had been going on for months and he'd had no idea. “Mos
t everyone didn’t say much to me about it at first, but I hated those pathetic looks of pity.”
“Those are the worst,” she said, shaking her head. He yanked at the cooler, making sure it was on his right side, and Heather on his left. He contemplated for ten steps on whether or not he should try to hold her hand. However, during his intense thinking on such an important concept as hand holding, she tripped on a crack in the sidewalk.
“Whoa.” He reached out, grabbing her by the forearm and pulling her toward his chest. “You okay?”
“I hate it when the ground jumps up out of nowhere.” She tucked some of her hair behind her ear, while he laced his fingers between hers, trying not to smile.
He kept his chin held high and his gaze straight forward until she tugged at her hand.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He squeezed her hand, then released his grip, dropping his hand to his side. “People hold hands on dates.” He might have stopped looking, but no way could he resist the charms of the woman next door. “And giving our neighbors something to talk about.”
“I don’t want the neighbors talking.” She lowered her head, raising her gaze in a look that would render a small child into submission. “And it’s not a date.”
“If I kiss you goodnight again, then it’s a date.” He really needed to stop pushing her buttons. Thus far, she’d been playful enough, but if he was going to get her to agree to a real date, he needed to play his cards like the adult he was, and not willy-nilly like an impatient boy.
She waggled her finger in front of him. “If I let you kiss me again, it’s a date, but don’t hold your breath,” she said with a smile.
“So, there’s hope for a date after all.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head.
He opted to keep his mouth shut.
A large, grassy field, freshly mowed, stretched out in front of the lake. The neighborhood put together multiple events, from parents versus kids’ soccer games to movie nights. Today, the field was lined with chairs, blankets, and families enjoying a warm summer day.
“Over there.” Cade pointed to the Texas A&M blanket nestled near the trees, not far from the pool, but with a great view of the crystal blue waters of Lake George.
