Deceived

by Suzannah Daniels

  He leaned against the edge of the desk and pulled me into his arms, and I was surrounded by his scent, a mixture of cologne and musk that comforted me.

  I encircled my hands around his neck. “She told me the truth.”

  “And what exactly did she tell you?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

  “Exactly what you told me. That you had gone to her and told her that things had changed, that you were interested in a relationship with someone else.”

  He pulled me away from him, so he could watch my face. “Not someone else. You.” He reached up and cupped my face, caressing my cheek with his thumb. “I want to be with you.”

  His declaration made my heart soar. “I want to be with you, too, Cade, and I’m sorry I doubted you.”

  He pulled me close. “Please tell me this nightmare is over. There’s nothing standing between us now. No lies. No deceit. Please tell me that you and I are finally right where we need to be.” His intense gaze forced me to lock eyes with him. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

  I lightly kissed his lips. “We’re right where we need to be.” And I hoped it was true because I still had something I needed to tell him.

  “I still owe you dinner.”

  “Are you going to make me a TV dinner?” I teased.

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I took you to dinner, instead.” He pulled two tickets from his back pocket and held them up. “I’ll even throw in a show.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Tickets to the symphony in Chattanooga tonight.”

  My jaw dropped open as I recalled our last conversation involving the symphony. “Let me get this straight…. You want to spend this evening in an elevator?”

  “As long as I’m with you, I don’t give a damn where I spend it.”

  “And this isn’t a trade-off? I don’t have to spend time in a tree stand in exchange for you going to the symphony, right?”

  His mouth twitched into a grin as his eyes raked down my body. “If you were in my tree stand, I wouldn’t be a very successful hunter. No, this isn’t a tradeoff. This is me showing you just how much you mean to me. This is me showing you just how much I want to be the man who makes you happy.”

  He leaned down, and I met him halfway for a kiss. “Now you’re sucking diesel,” I said against his lips.

  “What?” He pulled back and looked at me, confusion evident in his facial expression. “Wait. Let me guess. An Irish saying?”

  I laughed. “Yeah, it’s like saying, ‘Now, you’re talking.’”

  “Well now, me beauty,” Cade said in a beautiful Irish lilt as he tucked the tickets back in his pocket, “if I’m gonna suck anyt’ing, it’s gonna be yer diddies.” He reached out and caressed my breast.

  I playfully smacked his hand away. “I should’ve known if you were going to learn any Irish slang, it would have to do with women’s body parts.”

  “What can I say?” he asked, returning to his normal accent. “I’m a guy.”

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

  He pulled me into his arms. “As much as I’d like to prove it to you right now, it’s going to have to wait. I need to get back to work, and you are very, very distracting. Can I pick you up at four? That would give us time to drive to Chattanooga and have a nice dinner before the symphony.”

  “Four would work.”

  He walked me back out to the main floor, and Lizzie immediately started waving him over. “Looks like you’re needed. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “You leaving?” he asked as he walked me toward the front door.

  “Yeah, I promised my mom I would help her clean today.”

  He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and gave me a gentle squeeze. “Okay. I’ll see you at four.” He kissed my temple and headed toward the reception desk to help Lizzie.

  As I drove home, I thought about Cade. I had been in love with him on some level for a very long time. Until recently, I had never been sure what to do with those feelings, so I’d mostly kept them to myself, allowing them to stew and simmer, their intensity growing stronger over time. And while they had cooled down when I went away to college, the moment I saw him sitting at the bar in Whiskey Nights, they immediately began boiling again.

  I still had fears, real fears that threatened my happiness the moment I let them slip into my consciousness. But today wasn’t going to be about fears. Today was going to be about Cade and me.

  After driving straight home, I found my mother loading the dishwasher. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hey.”

  “Where’s Dad?”

  “He’s in the backyard working on the lawn mower.”

  I grabbed the broom from the utility closet and started sweeping. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “How long did you date Dad before you knew he was the one?”

  “I knew on our first date.”

  Surprised, I looked at her. “Really?”

  She loaded a bowl in the dishwasher and then focused her attention on me. “I thought he was so good-looking. Sex on a stick.”

  I inhaled sharply, amused at my mother’s shocking choice of words. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “What? You think I’m too old to be using words like sex?”

  “Of course not, but you’re just so…reserved.” I grinned at her. “And it’s kind of gross to hear your parents talk like that. So that’s how you knew he was the one? You thought he was….” I shuddered. “I can’t even say it out loud.”

  My mother loaded another bowl. “That’s just what got my attention. I knew he was the one because he made me laugh. I was happy around him. It was really a feeling more than anything else.”

  “So how long did y’all date before you got married?” I asked.

  “Three weeks.”

  “Three weeks! How have I never heard this story?”

  She shrugged. “You never asked.”

  “You weren’t afraid that it wouldn’t work?”

  “Of course I was, but nothing in life is guaranteed. I’ve known people who got married after a short courtship and they stayed together for decades, and I’ve known people who dated for years before they got married, and it didn’t last six months. I don’t think there’s a right or wrong amount of time to date before marriage. I think it depends on the people, on whether they want the same things out of life, on how committed they are to each other. As your mother, I would warn you to use caution. A couple should have some serious conversations before they get married.”

  I retrieved the dustpan and swept up the small pile of dirt.

  When I finished, I noticed that she was watching me intently. “Why? Are you serious about that Mayfield boy?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I am.”

  “Just promise me you won’t run off and get married without telling me first.”

  “Of course not,” I quickly assured her.

  “I mean it, Seren. Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  The corners of her lips turn down in a frown before they curved upward sadly. “You’re our only child. I would be heartbroken if I missed your wedding.”

  Our only child. I’d heard that phrase so many times growing up. To say my parents had been overprotective would be an understatement. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand. I did. At least once I’d gotten older. But at times, it had been a damn heavy burden to bear. When I’d wanted to go out with my friends, my curfew had always been earlier. My parents had always called my cell phone more frequently. My friends had come home with me to beg my parents to let me do things with them on more than one occasion after the first answer had been no. Thankfully, they had relented most of the time.

  Now I was old enough to do what I wanted, with or without their permission. But they had been good parents, even if it took me a few years to appreciate it.

  “You’re not going to miss my wedding, Mom. Besides, no one has proposed to me.”

  �
�Have you heard back from your interview yet?” she asked, and I was relieved that she was changing the subject.

  I put the broom and dustpan up and pulled out the mop and a bucket. “Not yet, but you know how that goes. I may never hear from them again.”

  “I would think they would at least send you an email to let you know they’ve filled the position. Of course, some companies have long, drawn out hiring processes.”

  “And that’s why I’m not holding my breath.” I filled the bucket with hot water and poured in some lemon-scented cleaner. Once my mother started the dishwasher and moved into the adjoining dining room to polish the table, I started mopping. “Cade’s picking me up at four. Guess where we’re going?”

  “Dancing.”

  I shook my head while I scrubbed a spot off the floor. “Nope.”

  “Where?”

  “He’s taking me to the symphony in Chattanooga.”

  “Oh! It’s been so long since your father and I have been there. I hope y’all have a nice time, honey.”

  “I will. I’m not sure about him. Classical music isn’t exactly his thing. I might have to wake him up when it’s over.”

  “So he’s taking you somewhere because he knows you’ll enjoy it?”

  “Pretty much.”

  My mother clicked her tongue. “Sounds like he might be a keeper.”

  Thinking about her words, I stopped mopping and watched her profile as she dusted the intricate curves of a chair. I smiled to myself and got back to work, suddenly even more eager to see him. When the house had been cleaned to my mother’s satisfaction, I headed to my basement apartment to get ready for the evening.

  As I waited for Cade to arrive, I studied my reflection in the mirror. I’d spent an absurd amount of time getting ready because I wanted him to think me beautiful. I’d even painted my nails a vibrant red to match my glossy lipstick. It was hard to look at my face without my attention being drawn to my lips, but Lexi had sworn to me with great enthusiasm on more than one occasion that men loved red lipstick. And I hoped those men included Cade.

  A knock sounded, and it took me a minute to realize that it had come from the inside door at the top of the stairs, not the outer door that led to the driveway. As I walked toward the stairs, my mother opened the door and called to me, “Cade’s here.”

  “Oh!” I couldn’t hide my surprise that he had knocked on the front door, instead of the basement door. “I’ll be right up.” My eyes swept to the mirror one more time. I pushed waves of curly hair in front of my shoulders, grabbed my clutch, and carefully maneuvered my way up the steep steps in my sparkly silver stilettos.

  He was in the living room, chatting with my parents. My father’s hearty laugh echoed through the house as I stood in the archway at the end of the hall. The click of my heels against the hardwood floors had obviously notified them of my arrival because once I came into view, they were all looking at me.

  My eyes immediately landed on Cade as he stood when I entered the room. Every time I thought I couldn’t be any more attracted to him, I would see him in an entirely different light and my heart would tap out an energetic tattoo as I tried to calm my nerves.

  He was the image of sophistication in a black suit and shirt, a gray tie complementing the ensemble without being overpowering. The tailored suit emphasized his broad shoulders and narrow waist, and he could definitely pass for a male model in a men’s fashion magazine with his chiseled good looks and impressive stature. My eyes dropped to the bundle of red roses in his hands.

  He and I met in the center of the room, and he held them out to me. “These are for you,” he said, as his eyes roamed over every inch of my face.

  I blushed at his close perusal. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” Relieved to have something else to focus my attention on, I lifted them to my nose and breathed in their heady scent.

  My mother’s cool hand touched my bare shoulder. “Why don’t I put them in water for you, so you kids can go?”

  “Thanks,” I murmured.

  Cade turned to my parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Flanagan, it’s been a pleasure.”

  “Likewise,” said my dad, standing and opening the front door for us. “Have fun.”

  Cade took me by the elbow and gallantly guided me to his truck. Once the front door closed behind us, he let out a slow whistle. “Damn, Flanagan. I knew you were sexy, but you are seriously rocking that dress.”

  Glancing down at the sleek black evening gown trimmed with silver sequins, I beamed. It was the first time I’d worn this dress, and his reaction was even better than I had hoped. I squeezed his hand in appreciation. “Why, thank you, Mr. Mayfield. You look quite handsome yourself.”

  “I don’t know how you expect me to keep my hands off you.”

  A mischievous smile crept across my face. “I’m hoping you won’t.”

  He chuckled as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and squeezed me against him. “Now you’re sucking diesel.”

  Cade walked me to the passenger side of his truck and opened the door for me. As I contemplated the best way to climb in since my long gown proved to be a hindrance, he grasped me by the waist. “Here, let me help you.” He easily lifted me up until I was able to slide into the seat, and then he got in the truck. Instead of turning the ignition, he paused, studying my face. “I could get used to this, you know.”

  “Used to what?”

  He reached out and cupped my shoulder with his warm palm, and then he trailed his fingertips along my arm until he captured my hand in his and intertwined our fingers. “Me and you.”

  Warmth exploded in my chest at his words. I’d dreamt of moments such as this for so very long. Now that it was happening, I was overcome with emotion. I wanted to savor the feeling, bottle it and hold on to it, so that I could relive it during one of life’s bleak moments. “I could get used to it, too.”

  He squeezed my hand and released it. Then, he cranked the truck, backed out of the driveway, and started the hour-long drive to Chattanooga.

  “So how did you get into classical music?” Cade asked as we drove along the Interstate.

  I glanced out the window at an old red barn with the words See Rock City in bold white letters. Cows in varying shades of brown, white, and black dotted the rolling green hills around it. “My parents used to take me to the symphony. I loved it. We would always get dressed up and make a night of it.”

  “You were a strange child.”

  I laughed. “Haven’t you ever paid attention to music in cartoons? Commercials?”

  “Obviously not. When we were kids, we spent a lot of our time outside. One time, Pax and I built a car out of an old wagon and a refrigerator box. Evan was the driver, and Pax and I would push him to the top of the hill in our subdivision and let him go.”

  “That sounds dangerous.”

  “Funny you should say that. Turns out, it was. Evan crashed and split his elbow open. Eight stitches and three lectures later, Pax and I were talking him into doing it again, and we were almost successful until Mom caught us. We could talk Evan into anything.”

  “Poor Evan. It’s a wonder he survived childhood.”

  “Shit. He loved every minute of it,” Cade countered. “He was fearless. Those stitches were like a gold star for a job well done.”

  “And did you or Paxton ever let him push you to the top of the hill and let go?”

  Cade turned and looked at me with a devilish grin. “We were too smart for that.”

  “Uh-huh, just what I thought. Y’all were cowards.”

  “Hey, we were the ones that had to face Mom’s wrath. Or should I say my stepmother’s wrath? Or maybe I should call her by her first name. Hell, I don’t even know, anymore.”

  I felt bad for him. I tried to imagine if one of my parents told me that they weren’t my biological parent. Would it make any difference to me? While I knew it would make me wonder about my real parents, I couldn’t imagine it making me feel as if they were anything less than my mom and dad.


  “I’m sure once you have time to adjust, you’ll figure it out.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know about that, but I do know my children will never go through some of the bullshit my parents have put me through.”

  “Are you going to let your older kids talk the younger ones into being daredevils?”

  He barked out a laugh. “It’s a rite of passage.”

  “You better make sure you have good health insurance.”

  “Good point. Maybe I’ll buy a house in a nice, flat subdivision.”

  I pushed my slinky, sequin-covered strap farther up my shoulder. “With no trees.”

  “Hell, if my kids are anything like me, it won’t matter. They’ll find something to get into.”

  A vision of a bunch of little Cade-look-alikes flitted through my mind. “How many kids do you want?”

  “Enough for a baseball team.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You really want that many kids?”

  He toggled his head back and forth. “Eh, at least enough to cover the infield.”

  “And what if they’re all girls?”

  “I want boys.”

  “Girls can play ball.”

  He held up his index finger. “Yeah, but that’s the thing about girls. They grow up, and then they start bringing boys home. And I’m not sure I’m equipped to handle that. I mean, if my daughter was in high school and she brought someone home like me or Mason or Hawk…okay, scratch Hawk off that list. In fact, make a note, if we have daughters we need to marry them off to Hawk’s sons.”

  His reference to our children caught me off-guard. And while I loved the idea of it, I was also terrified.

  The more serious our relationship became, the more I could feel my confidence slipping.

  Chapter 23

  Arseways

  Cade

  After dinner, we arrived at the old 1920s theater in downtown Chattanooga where the symphony would be performing. Flanagan’s eyes were wide with appreciation as she scoped the high domed ceiling and the crystal chandeliers. Elegance of an era long gone surrounded us, and while she soaked in the opulence and splendor of the lobby, I focused on her. Her hair cascaded down her back in golden-red curls, and as she turned in my direction, my eyes were drawn to her luscious red lips, the bottom one slightly plumper than the top.