by Tawny Weber
“Thanks for the welcome home,” he murmured, immediately leaning back. He kept his expression light. Amused even. As if his own body hadn’t just gone into overdrive at the taste of her lips under his.
“Anytime,” she murmured, draping the huge cat over her shoulder and sliding from the car as if in a fog. He waited until her friend was out, too, then shifted the car into gear.
A quick glance in the rearview mirror confirmed that both women were still staring.
Cade grinned.
Maybe the next couple of weeks wouldn’t be so bad after all.
* * *
THERE WAS NO WAY in hell he was sticking around another couple of weeks. Cade clenched his teeth to keep the fury inside, both because spewing it would upset his grandmother, and more to the point, because he refused to let his father know he was pushing buttons.
“You need to step it up, put in more effort,” his father lectured from the crisp white sheets of his hospital bed. A chorus of beeps and buzzes accompanied his rant, medical equipment proving that a man could have a heart and still be a heartless bastard. “You’ve been doing the same thing for years now. When are you going to get a promotion? What’s it take to get a raise in that military you serve? Don’t my tax dollars pay enough for you to make a little more? Call up your ambition, boy. Push harder.”
It didn’t stop there. Cade made a show of inspecting his boots while Robert droned on.
And on and on.
And on.
It was like he was trying to spew out every demand, every put-down he could as fast as possible because he knew the drugs and his body’s need to heal would soon take over and knock him back out.
Cade wished they’d hurry the hell up.
At first, he’d listened in sympathy to the slurred words dragged down by drugs and age. He’d stared at the man lying in the hospital bed, trying to reconcile the sagging gray skin and fragile appearance with his no-bullshit father. Seeing him tapped every which way into wires and machines, for the first time in his life, Cade had felt sympathy for his old man.
Once Robert had awakened, that sympathy had lasted about five minutes.
Now, an hour later, Cade was once again asking himself if his mother, rest her soul, had bumped her head a few times before agreeing to marry such a tyrant. He’d served under some hard-asses in his years, had worked with egomaniacs and assholes. But none held a candle to his old man.
“You hear me, boy?”
“I’m not the one under medical observation,” Cade said laconically, rocking back on the heels of his boots and giving his father the easygoing smile he knew irritated him the most. “My hearing is just fine.”
The older man’s eyes, just as green as Cade’s though blurred now, narrowed.
“I wasn’t sure. You’re always being shot at, or surrounded with bombs going off all around you. You might have lost a few brain cells.”
Cade’s smile slipped a little. Nope. All he’d lost was one of his best friends. But Robert Sullivan wouldn’t give a damn about that.
Hell, the loss of his wife had only slowed him down a few weeks. If he missed her now, Sullivan-the-elder never showed it. Cade wished, for the first time in his life, that he had a little of that distance, that he could tap into that emotional void and just not care. Not feel the pain. Not carry the almost too heavy to bear weight of responsibility.
Gut clenched, he stared at the tubes pumping health into his father, focusing on the slender plastic until he could slam the lid shut on the gnawing pain.
“I’ve got to say, I find it difficult to believe you haven’t made Commander yet. You clearly aren’t applying yourself. You want me to die here, knowing my son quit for nothing? That he walked away from his familial obligations to play soldier and then didn’t get anywhere?”
Cade’s fists clenched and his blood boiled. He took a step forward, not caring that he was teetering on the edge of an explosion.
“Robert.”
That’s all it took. One word from Catherine to settle her son against his well-fluffed pillow. And, more likely her goal, to make her grandson stand down without challenging his father’s obnoxious remarks.
Cade hated that the old man got to him. He didn’t have a damned thing to prove to anyone. Still, he couldn’t shake the tension knotting his shoulders or the fury coiling in the pit of his belly. Why had he come back? Why wouldn’t his grandmother let him fly her to San Diego once in a while, or at least listen to his oft-repeated advice that she give up on that crazy illusion that they were a cozy family.
He needed to get out of here. And, if he was smart, he should go call Eden and cancel drinks. A night of thinking had provided plenty of reasons why it was a really bad idea. Mostly because all the images he’d had involved stripping those pink cotton panties off her.
“I’ll be back to pick you up in a couple hours,” he told his grandmother.
Catherine patted his hand with her own gnarled one, her expression peaceful, even with the tiny line of worry creasing her brow when she gazed at her only child. It must be a mother thing, Cade thought, shaking his head. That ability to see something positive where nobody else could.
“I have a job you need to do,” his father called out when Cade’s hand closed on the doorknob. “I loaned one of the neighbors some money with their property as collateral. Turns out they took out a loan with the bank, too. If the bank decides to foreclose, I’ve got no leverage to get my money back. So I need you to collect before that happens.”
Since there were only two tracts of land close enough to be considered neighbors, and one belonged to Cade’s grandmother, that meant Robert was talking about the Gillespie property.
Cade was surprised his fist didn’t crush the knob.
With the same caution, vigilance and care he’d take in facing an armed enemy, Cade slowly turned around.
“I’m not available for side jobs,” he said, keeping his tone light, his expression neutral. Both because he didn’t want to upset his grandmother, and yes, because he knew it’d piss his father off even more. Petty, he acknowledged, given that the guy was in a hospital bed. But he couldn’t help himself.
“You need to do this one. If you don’t the bank is going to take the property. I’ll lose my money, and the Gillespie girl will lose her home.”
“Eden borrowed money from you?”
“Eleanor did.”
Robert didn’t meet the shocked looks of his son or his mother. Looking frail again, he glared at the tubes in his hand for a second, then muttered, “She kept trying to sell me those ceramic things she makes. Erotic art, she calls it. I finally gave her the loan against the house just to get her to go away. Now she’s off, who knows where, and not paying her debts. Figures.”
Cade should be amused that someone could knock his father down a peg or two. But he was too busy worrying about the sweet girl next door.
“Eden has no idea?”
“As flaky as Eleanor is, I doubt it. I was on my way to tell Eden she was going to have to make good on her mother’s debt when all of this...” he waved his tube-tapped hand toward the machines “...happened. I’ve been a little preoccupied since.”
“You’d take the home out from under a girl you watched grow up. A neighbor? She made you cookies,” Cade said, gesturing to the tray on the sideboard with a bright red bow and get-well card.
“The bank’s the one that would be taking it out from under her. I just want to collect on what’s due to me,” Robert argued, shifting to his elbow to glare at his son. “Eleanor shouldn’t have taken that loan if she couldn’t pay it off. That’s on her, not me.”
“You’re the one trying to kick Eden out of her home.”
“The bank’s going to kick her out. I’m the one stuck in this damned hospital bed peeing into a hose while I get screwed out of ten grand.”
Maybe there was justice in the world.
It was something Cade had believed, once. Just like he’d believed he could make a difference. Now, he d
idn’t have much faith in anything.
He couldn’t stop his father from being a jerk, from hurting people. But he’d be damned if he’d help him.
But if he walked away, what happened to Eden? Cade remembered the state of the property. Run-down, rough looking. She didn’t have the money for upkeep, which meant she probably didn’t have enough to pay off his father. Or the bank.
He wanted to say screw it all. To get the hell out of here and go back to San Diego. For the first time since Phil had died, Cade wanted a mission. Something dangerous and intense. Something with a lot of guns, escalating violence and hopefully a shot at a little hand-to-hand combat.
“Cade,” Catherine said, her quiet voice still loud enough to be heard over the sudden beeps and buzzing of the machines monitoring Robert. “That sweet girl is going to need help. Someone has to step in and keep the bank, and others, from taking her property. You’ll take care of this for her until Eleanor gets back to pay her debts, won’t you?”
Like a plug had been pulled on his fury, Cade sighed.
What was it about his grandmother? She never raised her voice, never said a harsh word. Yet nobody could say no to her. Including him.
“Sure, yeah, I’ll take care of things,” he promised quietly.
What else could he do? It was Eden. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, let her be tossed out of her house. It was the only home she’d ever known. Hell, until her mother had taken up mobile living, it was the only home the last four generations of her family had ever known.
He had to find a way to save it. To save her.
And, maybe, just maybe thinking of her as a mission, as a personal responsibility, would keep his hands off her sexy ass.
4
“IS THIS TOO MODEST?”
Eden turned one way, then the other, trying to see how she looked. Her bureau mirror only showed the top two-thirds of her body, though. So she couldn’t tell if the borrowed skirt was sexy, slutty or simply stupid.
“Shouldn’t you be asking if it’s too revealing? Or,” Bev leaned her head sideways and squinted, “if you should be wearing underwear?”
Eden clapped both hands on her butt cheeks, checking to make sure they weren’t hanging out. The skirt wasn’t that short, was it? After assuring herself it hit mid-thigh, she glared at her friend.
“Just because it doesn’t leave panty lines doesn’t mean a thong isn’t underwear,” she chided. And she wasn’t about to ruin the look of her cute little black skirt with panty lines. Short, but not so much that she’d be in danger of flashing her goods, it fit like a glove, and showed off the benefits of being able to eat anything and everything and not gain an ounce. Her black blouse billowed, making her feel like a sexy poet with its wide ruffles and full sleeves.
Not a bad just drinks, not really a date, but don’t you wish it were look, she decided. She leaned closer to the mirror to check her makeup. Smoky but subtle, like the magazines suggested. Glistening pink on her lips, just a hint of shimmer on her cheekbones and an extra coat of mascara.
She looked like herself, but not.
Exactly what she’d been hoping for.
This was it. Her chance to make one of her favorite fantasies come true. To make Cade Sullivan see her as more than a rescue operation, a charity case. A cute pet he needed to pull from the occasional tree.
“So?” she asked again, giving Bev an expectant look.
“You look great,” the other woman said, sitting cross-legged on Eden’s bed wearing blue jeans and a frown.
The bedroom, like the rest of the house, was a little worn. The last time the paint had been refreshed, Eden had been thirteen and going through her Grateful Dead phase. Thankfully, the years had faded the virulent purple to a smoky amethyst. Evening light, soft and gentle, wafted through the open windows, bringing with it the occasional bark from the barn. Eden had three dogs kenneled in what she affectionately called her veterinary hospital, but what most everyone else called a wreck. She’d spent the afternoon giving them, the horse and the goat extra play time and exercise to make up for the fact that she wouldn’t be down to visit later. Because, please-oh-please fingers crossed tight, it’d be too late when she got home.
“This is the first time I’ve ever actually spent any time with Cade. He actually seems like a nice guy,” Bev said, her tone implying he was pure poison. “Are you sure you want to go out with him?”
Trying to figure out what to do with her hair, because hanging flat was so boring, it took Eden a few seconds to take that in.
“What? You think I should only go out with guys who aren’t nice?”
“No. But you have to admit, you don’t have very good dating luck. Or should I say, the guys who date you don’t have very good luck.”
Which inevitably resulted in Eden not getting lucky. But that was beside the point. Or maybe it was the point, she frowned. Something to consider if tonight didn’t work out. Maybe she should learn not to maim her dates or something.
“Cade’s a navy SEAL. I’m sure he’s been trained to handle dangerous situations,” she said drily.
“Maybe,” Bev allowed with a grimace. “Still, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Okay, what’re you so worried about?” Eden asked with a sigh. When a friend brought over her entire collection of makeup, clothes and shoes for you to choose from, a girl was somewhat obligated to listen to her concerns.
“Nothing, just, well, you know how the women were talking yesterday. This guy’s got such a reputation that they give out groupie insignia for being with him. Is that really the kind of guy you want to date?”
Hell, yeah.
Eden managed to keep the exclamation to herself, though. She didn’t think it’d allay Bev’s worries to hear her rhapsodize about how great it would be to finally be considered a part of the “in” crowd. To be worthy of an insignia, or even talked about in any way that didn’t invoke pitying eye rolls. God, she hated the eye rolls.
“It’s fine,” she said instead. “Cade’s just a friend and this is just a welcome-home, thanks-for-hauling-me-out-of-the-tree drink. Nothing more.”
“He kissed you.”
Eden’s entire body went hot.
The memory of his lips, so soft yet firm, as they’d brushed hers had kept her awake half the night. His scent, rich and earthy, had wrapped around her. If she closed her eyes and imagined, she could smell him again. Still...
“That wasn’t a kiss. That was just a peck, a friendly gesture. A real kiss requires tongue,” Eden replied. Although she was pretty sure Cade could take her from tepid to boiling with just his lips.
Rumor supported her theory, as did the peeks she’d taken at his lakeside rendezvous. Cade Sullivan was the sexual bomb. She was sure of it. And she wanted, more than anything else, for him to make her explode.
“Look,” she said, going for distraction before her blushes gave away how much she really wanted Cade, “I’m just having drinks with him. It’s a good thing and it will help me out of the jam I’m in.”
At Bev’s quizzical look, Eden continued. “You know what the bank manager said. Because my mother took out that loan against the house while it was still in just her name, and because we just added my name to the title instead of transferring it when I took over the mortgage, I’m stuck. Cousin Arnie is sure Mom meant to pay that off. I’m sure she meant to pay it off. And as soon as I reach her, I’m sure she’ll take care of it. But in the meantime, I need to make those payments.”
“So?”
“So... People will see us, get to talking, and you know how the gossip chain is in this town. Everyone wants the inside scoop but doesn’t want to look like a snoop. So they’ll try to be casual, make appointments for me to see their pets. Or their mom’s pet, or their neighbor’s pet, whatever they can get.” Eden wrinkled her nose, equally amused and irritated. “I’ll get some new business, put the money toward a reasonable payment to the bank and buy some time until I can reach Mom.”
Every word was true. E
xcept that not one of them had anything to do with why she wanted to go out with Cade.
“You’re using this guy to build your business?” Bev asked, her face all screwed up with distaste.
Eden paused in the act of twisting her hair this way, then that, to stare at Bev in the mirror. She made it sound so bad. Like Eden was one of those girls in the club, only after Cade’s status. They didn’t care if they dated him, or his father, as long as the last name was Sullivan. She wasn’t like that.
She opened her mouth to explain that to Bev, then closed it right back up. Because explaining would require she give her real reason for wanting this date so badly.
She wanted to seduce Cade Sullivan.
She wanted to strip him naked, drive him crazy and make him wild for her. To become a memory that he could think about on those nights before a scary mission and smile. To stop being the cute, accident-prone girl next door in his mind and become the sexiest experience he’d ever had.
She wanted to experience wild, intensely fabulous sex. To find out if all those rumors about his prowess were real. She wanted to be a Cade-ette, even if nobody but she and Cade knew it.
She wasn’t using Cade Sullivan for his name or connections or to better her social standing, dammit.
She was using him for his body.
But Bev wouldn’t understand that. She was too much a romantic. And also just a little bit of a worrywart. The minute she knew what Eden was planning, she’d try to talk her out of it.
Eden pressed one hand to her stomach, trying to soothe the dancing butterflies, and figured she wasn’t in any position to defend her decision.
“It’s just drinks,” she finally said. “How much using can be done over a beer?”
“You don’t drink beer.”
“Cade does.”
Eden huffed at Bev’s narrow look. “So I know what he drinks. You drink rum and cola. Janie drinks cosmopolitans, Crystal likes lemonade spritzers and Mrs. Winters chugs Kahlúa. What’s the big deal?”
“How do you know these things?” Bev asked, sounding amazed as she finally relaxed enough to come over and start helping Eden fix her hair.
