by Beth K. Vogt
“And they were?”
“Neighbors. A military family that moved next door to my mom and me when I was ten. I became friends with their son, Drake. Man, they let me hang around all the time. Meals. Game nights. Took me to the base pool.”
Kade fell silent.
“Do you and Drake keep in touch?”
“I have no idea where he is now.”
“What? Why not?”
“When we were fifteen, Drake’s dad was diagnosed with cancer. He died six months later. The family moved to be near relatives. End of story.”
“Oh, Kade, how awful—”
“It is what it is.” Lurking behind the flat statement, Caron knew, were all sorts of stuffed emotions. “I joined the military right out of high school. Mr. Neilson had always told me that he thought I’d do well in the air force. I’d like to think he’d be proud of me.”
Caron brushed Kade’s hair back from his forehead—something she loved doing when they were dating.
She’d obeyed her father’s demand and ended the relationship when Kade decided to strike out on his own. But in doing so, she’d hurt Kade even more than she’d allowed herself to realize. She’d proven to him once again that people leave.
But how could she not do as her father expected? Kade knew how much she valued her father’s opinion. And he knew how invested she was in her father’s company. He knew she’d never imagined working anywhere else. She couldn’t stand up to both her father’s demands and to Kade’s insistence that he loved her—that they defy her father. So she’d simply not shown up for their next date. Never returned a single one of Kade’s what’s-going-on phone calls. Deleted his texts. Every single one of them.
Yes, it was easier. For her. And as time went on she’d convinced herself that her heart wasn’t broken. That what she had with Kade was nothing compared to what she found with Alex.
Then why were there times when she ached for Kade all these months later? Why were memories of their time together closer and closer to the surface of her heart? She couldn’t still be in love with Kade. She couldn’t be.
And what did a woman do if she realized she’d been wrong to walk away from one man in the hopes of keeping her father happy? That maybe . . . the perfect man for her . . . wasn’t the right man for her after all?
TWENTY-NINE
Caron backed out of the passenger-side door of Kade’s car, exhaling as she stood straight. At only nine in the morning, the cement of the driveway was cool beneath her bare feet, the sky overhead still a mix of blue skies and white clouds.
And thanks to a small piece of sleight of hand, she’d retrieved Kade’s car keys from the kitchen counter where he’d left them last night. Now the interior of his SUV gleamed. Maybe she didn’t own a car with leather interior. Yet. But she knew how to do the basic detail of one. She’d ransacked Kade’s garage until she’d found his plastic bucket of car-care supplies. If she was going to clean his car, she was going to do it right.
Of course, she could have just driven through a car wash, but there was no risking the muscle relaxers wearing off and Kade waking up to find his car missing and thinking someone had stolen it while he slept.
Her cell phone buzzed in the pocket of her jeans shorts. A text from Margo.
Where are you?
Instead of texting back, she opted for a phone call.
“You didn’t see my note, did you?”
“What note?”
“I left you a note—never mind. I’m going to miss church today.”
“Why?”
Caron shut the car door, wiping away the sweat beading along her forehead. “I’m cleaning Kade Webster’s car.”
“What? He’s paying you to stage a home, not clean his car—”
“I’m helping him out, Margo. He hurt his back running the obstacle course yesterday.” Switching the phone to speaker and setting it on the front hood of the car, she released her hair from the pigtails she’d adopted for the morning, her hair falling to stick to her damp neck. “His car is filthy after driving to Aspen and back yesterday. He’s going to want it clean come tomorrow.”
“You Realtors and your insistence that you have spotless cars.”
“Just part of the job. I’ve got the interior done, now all I need to do is wash the outside and I can get out of here before Kade wakes up.”
“Doing your good deed in secret, is that it?”
“I guess I am. I want to get this done and be gone before Kade wakes up. It’s . . . it’s best that way.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing.” Margo and she always spoke the truth to one another. Why was she hedging now? “I mean, nothing I can talk about right now, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I will talk to you, Margo—”
“I know. Just finish what you’re doing and then come on home. I’ll be here, ready to listen when you’re ready to talk.”
She should have gone to church with Margo today. Refreshed herself with the praise and worship music. Found some guidance from the pastor’s teaching. But surely God understood that she was helping Kade, stopping him from hurting his back any further.
She’d left the now-empty plastic bucket near the corner of the garage where she’d spied the hose. As she turned away from the car, Caron tripped over her bare feet at the sight of Kade standing in the open garage bay.
“Good morning.” His dark hair was tousled, and he wore his long pajama bottoms . . . and a confused smile.
“What are you doing out here?” Caron pushed her sunglasses back up on her nose.
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that question? I mean, my house . . . my driveway . . . my car.”
“It’s pretty evident what I’m doing. I’m cleaning your car.” Caron tried to keep things nonchalant. Go about her planned business of washing Kade’s car. Not stare at him in half of his pajamas. Watching Kade take on the Mudder yesterday had reminded her how he benefited from his frequent workouts. Now she had another unobstructed view of his muscular torso.
Focus on something—anything—else. Liquid soap in the bucket. Turn on the outside faucet, and place the bucket beneath the steady stream of water. “I know you need your car cleaned up after the drive through the mountains yesterday.”
“I can handle that myself.”
“With a strained back? I don’t think so.” Caron tossed a large blue sponge into the bucket. “Besides, I’m halfway done. I’ll finish what I started . . .”
“All right, then. How about I rinse the car off?”
Kade still had to be groggy because he wasn’t even arguing with her. With a swift motion, Caron retrieved the hose. “I’ll rinse the car off.”
“Caron, I’m perfectly capable of—”
“Kade, you’re barely awake, and besides, I know how sensitive you are to medication.”
“Hey, I’m awake. I’m walking.” He offered her a lazy smile that made it seem as if the sun had warmed her body. “Besides, I just invested in a fireman’s nozzle for my hose—”
“A fireman’s nozzle? Isn’t that a little overkill?”
“So I bought into the advertisement.” He held out his hand. “I’ll rinse the car and you can start soaping it down.”
“Bossy today, aren’t we?”
“My driveway—my car.”
“I know, your house.” Caron relinquished the hose. “This is probably safer than letting you wash the car. Just take it easy with that thing, okay?”
“Of course. I’ve washed a car before, Caron.”
Caron jumped back when Kade pointed the nozzle toward her. “Hey!”
“Sorry. I wasn’t pulling back on the grip.” His gray eyes seemed remarkably clear. “I promise to behave.”
For the next few moments, they worked in tandem, Kade moving around the car, aiming a steady stream of water at the exterior and the hubcabs, and Caron following behind him with the bucket and sponge, scrubbing the dirt off.
“I need some more water ov
er here, boss.” Caron stepped back, motioning to the bucket with the sponge.
“Sure thing. You want to add more soap? The bottle’s right near the rear tire.”
“Okay.” She squirted more soap into the bottom of the bucket. “There ya go.”
Kade aimed the stream of water into the bucket, adjusting the strength, but not before some of it splashed onto Caron’s bare legs.
“Hey! What happened to being careful?”
“Oh, please. It’s just a little bit of water.” Kade moved the hose so that the spray landed full force on her bare feet. “No big deal, see?”
“That’s cold water, Kade.” She picked up the bucket. “I think it’s time I took over rinsing the car.”
“You’re in charge of the sponge, Miss Hollister.” Kade backed up, positioning his hand on the grip that controlled the flow of water. “Don’t make me do something you’re going to regret.”
“You wouldn’t. And I seriously doubt that you could, with a sore back.”
Kade raised the hose, easing the handle as he pointed the nozzle directly at her heart. “Don’t be so hasty to throw down a verbal gauntlet, Miss Hollister.”
Oh no he did not! Caron took two quick steps forward and tossed the bucket of water straight at his bare chest—and then dropped the container onto the driveway and ran.
Kade’s bellow was followed by an immediate blast of water against her back that sent her running to safety on the other side of the car, her feet slapping on the wet cement.
“You can’t outrun me, Caron—”
She tossed the soggy sponge at him. “Drop the hose, buddy!”
“I don’t think so.” Kade rounded the front of the car, aiming a nonstop stream of cold water at her.
She had no water bucket, no sponge . . . nothing but bravado to try and get out of this one-sided battle. Putting her hands up in front of her face, Caron ran toward Kade, trying to grab the nozzle away from him. But the man only laughed as he pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist and anchoring her against him.
“Stop! You’re all wet!”
“I’m all wet, am I?” Kade’s words were laced with laughter. “And whose fault is that?”
“I’m sorry—”
“Oh, right. You sound sorry.” He directed the spray toward her again. “Ready to give up?”
As Caron sputtered and tried to squirm out of his arms, Kade held the hose over her head. He manipulated the grip, allowing it to shower down, dousing her with a cold spray that soaked her hair and T-shirt.
“Kade Webster, you stop right this instant!” She closed her eyes against the downpour and pushed against his shoulders.
A few seconds later, the stream of water stopped. She opened her eyes, and found herself staring into Kade’s eyes, tiny droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes. He dropped the hose, not even seeming to notice how it clattered to the driveway. He moved his arm so that it encircled her back, pressing her up against the length of his body. With one hand, he pushed her wet hair back from her face.
“Caron—” Kade’s voice pitched low, his fingers tangling in the wet strands of her hair and tugging her toward him with the lightest of pressure.
“What?” The one word was a mere whisper.
“Kiss me—please.”
Caron closed her eyes, her kiss an immediate yes to his request. His lips were damp and cold from their recent battle, but within seconds heat flared through her body as his mouth warmed, his kiss slow and insistent.
“Oh, how I’ve missed you—” Kade’s words were whispered against her ear, sending a shiver down her neck.
The embrace . . . the taste of Kade’s mouth . . . it was achingly familiar, causing Caron to press herself closer as his arms tightened around her and his mouth found hers again.
Kade’s kisses were so much more potent than Alex’s kisses.
Alex.
“What am I doing?” Caron pressed her hands against Kade’s chest, turning her face away from him.
“I think . . . it’s pretty clear what you’re doing.” Kade pressed his lips to her jaw, trying to find her lips again. “I asked you to kiss me . . . and you did. Amazingly well, I might add.”
Even as the huskiness of his voice lured her closer, she forced herself to step away. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry . . .”
“I can’t do this, Kade. I’m with Alex—”
His hands encircled her upper arms, pulling her toward him. “Don’t be.”
“Don’t be? That’s it? Just end my relationship with Alex like that?”
“There’s obviously still something between you and me, Caron—”
“And how would I explain this to Alex? To my father?”
“Fool me once . . .” The light disappeared from Kade’s eyes, his hands dropping to his sides. His inhale was sharp as he stepped away from her. “Our relationship never worked because there were always three people involved. You. Me. Your father.”
“Kade—” A shiver ran through Caron’s body.
“And ultimately, you chose your father. You just never bothered to tell me.” He stepped away, increasing the distance between them. “You’ll have to excuse me . . . the effects of those two muscle relaxers I took last night are wearing off. I’ll finish washing the car later.”
As Kade disappeared into the shadows of his garage, Caron wrapped her arms around her waist, water dripping from the hem of her T-shirt onto the ground. There was nothing else to say. No way to apologize for what had just happened . . . or to apologize for what had happened two years ago.
THIRTY
He didn’t know which hurt worse—the heat coursing through his back or the remnants of Caron’s kisses that scorched his lips.
The first kiss ignited all his longings for Caron like the initial spark of fire to an abandoned building. He wanted her even more fiercely than he had when they dated two years ago. Like a man who’d been locked in the darkness of solitary confinement and been offered an unexpected pardon, kissing Caron overloaded his senses. Was he shaking because he was wet . . . cold . . . in pain, or because he was resisting the urge to walk back outside and grab her in his arms again and kiss her until the ache lodged in his chest disappeared?
Not going to happen.
He wasn’t going back outside—and kissing Caron Hollister again wasn’t going to ease all the hurt that had surged past the protective barrier he’d thought would keep his heart protected.
He’d played a dangerous game, hiring her to stage Eddie Kingston’s home. But he’d been flat-out stupid to go outside when he saw her in his driveway this morning, washing his car. Why hadn’t he taken his meds and gone back to sleep? Let Caron finish her little good deed for the day all by herself?
Kade shrugged into his dry robe, tossing his wet pajama bottoms into his tub. It didn’t matter. The damage was done. He’d made a fool of himself over Caron Hollister—again.
He wanted nothing from Caron Hollister except for her to stage Eddie Kingston’s house. He couldn’t want anything more from her. All he needed to do was reestablish the professional boundaries and get through the next week. Pacing his empty bedroom, which was the room farthest away from the front of his house, Kade voice-dialed Mitch. Waited for him to answer. Groaned when it went to voice mail.
“Hey, it’s Kade. Hope you’re not too sore after the Mudder. I know it’s Sunday. I slept through church. Can’t go into the office, but I’m going to look at listings. Give me a call when you get this message, okay? Thanks.”
He might as well do some work—or try to before the muscle relaxers kicked in. Put his effort into finding his clients the houses they were looking for since he’d failed—again—at getting what he’d wanted. Who he wanted.
• • •
“Caron, you know I will walk all the way to Denver and back with you if it takes that long for you to talk to me. That’s what girlfriends do.” Margo matched Caron’s pace. “But I gotta admit I’m trying to figure out why you sho
wed up here soaking wet just as I was getting home from church.”
Caron paused on the sidewalk, her arms hanging by her sides, her T-shirt still damp. “He kissed me, Margo.”
“What? Kade kissed you?”
“Yes.”
“Glory hallelujah, girl!” Margo grabbed Caron’s arms and tried to twirl her around, but when Caron stayed rooted in one place, she settled for a modified happy dance. “Why aren’t you dancing in the street with me?”
“Because he kissed me. And I kissed him back . . . and it shouldn’t have happened. I’m almost engaged to Alex—the perfect guy for me, remember?”
“If you recall, I don’t think you should be marrying Mr. Perfect—and it’s nothing against Alex. Besides, kissing another guy should have you seriously rethinking whether you really want to say ‘I do’ with Alex.”
“The kiss was an accident.”
“On whose part? Yours or Kade’s?”
“Both.” Caron swallowed back a sob. “I forfeited any chance with Kade two years ago when I broke up with him, Margo. I made my choice—”
“Did you make the choice you really wanted to make?”
“I made the only choice I could.”
“Really, Caron?” Margo put a hand on her arm, stopping her from walking away. “You made the only choice you could? I’m going to have to disagree with you. A choice implies more than one option. You could have chosen to stay with Kade—”
“Not if I wanted to keep working with my dad.”
“Well, not to be obvious, but how did that work out for you?”
“It was going well, until he made Nancy Miller his partner.”
“So, you’re saying life would be perfect if you could go back to things the way they were before Nancy Miller? You working for your father and dating Alex—being almost engaged.”
“Yes.”
That was the right answer, wasn’t it?
“Then tell me this—”
“Margo, are we really going to do a Q&A out here on the sidewalk?”
