He’d spent too much time on this road trip worrying about Bella and not enough concentrating on his game. He’d hated leaving her forty-eight hours after the attack. Yet her texts and phone calls sounded normal. Regardless, this niggling feeling told him she wasn’t nearly as okay as she claimed. He didn’t have a fucking clue how long it took a person to recover from something like that, or if they ever did, but he was fairly certain she couldn’t be okay after only a few days. And as normal as she appeared to sound, he heard a hint of panic and fear in her voice every time they talked.
The bad stuff was part of any relationship, as much as the good stuff. If they survived this, they should be able to survive anything. Cedric didn’t regret Bella moving in. It’d be an adjustment. He’d never lived with a woman before, especially one dealing with serious trauma, and he felt ill-equipped to handle the situation. He’d do right by Bella and hope to God his best would be good enough.
He should talk to Coop or Ice. They’d both dealt with some pretty heavy pasts, while Cedric in comparison had it pretty easy. Maybe his parents had never shown any love or encouragement, but they’d never abused him either. They were guilty of neglect and indifference. The rare times they noticed they had a son, his father would heap on heavy doses of criticism. His mother chose guilt and manipulation as her parenting method of choice. Most of the time, they pretended he didn’t exist. In fact, he’d gotten into hockey through an uncle, and they’d gladly paid for it so they didn’t have to deal with a child who was obviously a major inconvenience.
Cedric avoided contact with both parents, which wasn’t difficult since they lived in Toronto, where his father ran a large corporation and greased the palms of politicians to get what he wanted. Neither of them put any pressure on Cedric to come home for the holidays. In fact, he rarely heard from them beyond the obligatory birthday calls.
When he’d first met Bella, he’d recognized a kindred spirit. He wasn’t sure how, but he had. They’d both been raised by neglectful parents and struggled with not being shown love as children. Cedric had avoided therapy, but any good shrink would claim that his partying and whoring around stemmed back to not feeling worthy of love.
What the fuck ever.
This self-examination shit was getting to be a habit, and one he’d avoided in the past. Avoidance didn’t seem to be working either for him anymore. His problems had moved into his head and made their fat asses comfortable as they proceeded to trash his orderly life. But he couldn’t help Bella if he didn’t face the tough stuff head on.
Bella. God, he’d missed her.
As soon as he got off the plane, he texted her, and she replied she was waiting up for him and had a surprise. Feeling anxious and worried, he drove home a little too quickly, not sure what he’d find when he walked in that door.
A few minutes later, Cedric unlocked his door and entered—what, he didn’t know. This could not be his condo.
Nothing prepared Cedric for the transformation his home had undergone in a few short days. Once a bastion of bachelorhood with everything spare, neat, and tidy—just like he liked it—this room was unrecognizable. Dropping his duffle bag on the floor, he reopened the front door and checked the number outside.
He was in the right condo, but it sure as hell didn’t look like it. Not one damn, fucking bit. Nor did it smell like it. Incredible aromas teased his nostrils, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten much before or after the game. His stomach growled in approval. His head reminded him not to get his hopes up. Bella cooked as much as Cedric’s mother—and, unfortunately, that meant never. Fuck only knew what her cooking tasted like.
Forgetting the aromas for a moment, he swung his gaze around his living room at a complete loss for words. His leather furniture had been replaced with light pink and lavender overstuffed sofas and chairs in a flower print. His chrome-and-glass table had been exchanged for a round oak table. One of his walls had been painted some weird shade of light green and his favorite recliner had been replaced by a rocking chair. His abstract paintings were now pastoral scenes. At least his big flat-screen still existed.
What the fuck?
He’d never be able to invite the boys over again.
Bella hurried down the hall, a nervous smile on her face. Instead of a hug, she hung back. “Welcome home.” She wrung her hands together. Her nervousness made him forget the state of his home.
“Uh, yeah, thanks. I see you’ve been—uh—busy.” He wanted to hug her, wrap her in his arms and erase the worry from her face. Yet something in her expression warned him to proceed with caution. He approached her carefully, glad to see she held her ground and didn’t shrink away from him.
“Do you like it?” She gazed up at him with an uncertain smile, which ripped his heart out. He couldn’t hurt her feelings.
“I love it.” He faked his enthusiasm, calling on every last bit of charm and acting talent he possessed. “It’s so, uh, homey.”
“You do?” Her face lit up, making him grin. She could paint his entire house pink if it made her smile like that. This was all good and proof she’d moved in for the long term, which had been what he’d wanted.
Bella needed to feel safe; if nesting in his house made her feel more secure, who was he to question her methods? So what if it made him a little uncomfortable to see his neat, predominantly beige house turned into a messy pastel haven with less-than-manly colors? So what if he had to live in girlie hell? It was a small price to pay.
“Is this the only room?” He bit his lower lip and silently prayed she hadn’t bought one of those stupid canopy beds for the master bedroom.
“Yes, but I’m working on the others.”
“That’s—that’s great.” He tried not to sound too relieved and quickly changed the subject. “What smells so good?”
“I’m making a pot roast. Let me check on it. I know how hungry you are after games.”
He hated this awkwardness between them. Before the attack, he’d have picked her up, swung her around, kissed the hell out of her, and carried her to the bedroom. Now he didn’t know how to react and neither did she. He moved forward and carefully put his arms around her in a quick hug. She stiffly hugged him back. Extracting herself from his hold, she hurried into the kitchen.
Damn.
“I’ll put my stuff away.” Cedric grabbed his bag and paused long enough to appreciate her fine ass, visible even through the baggy sweats she wore. He licked his lips and bit back a sigh.
Bending down, he picked up a bra and one sock from the floor, carried them to the guest bathroom, and placed them in a wicker hamper. He made the mistake of glancing in his bedroom and wished he hadn’t. She’d taken over the master bedroom too. Instead of a perfectly made bed, the covers lay in a heap on top of the sheets. Pillows and discarded clothing littered the floor. He ventured into the master bath, fearing the worst.
He wasn’t disappointed and gritted his teeth as he gazed at the once gleaming granite counters. Brightly colored makeup containers, lotions, and mounds of towels occupied every available inch of counter space.
God help him. He hoped she cooked better than she kept house.
A few minutes later and one bite into the pot roast, he realized she didn’t.
* * * *
Bella stared at herself in the mirror. The maid-of-honor dress showed too much cleavage, and she tried to adjust it with little success. People shouldn’t be staring at her tits instead of staring at the bride.
Izzy getting married was a big deal, and Bella would do her part to make sure it was the wedding of all weddings. She’d been doing so before the incident, and she’d do so tonight.
Bella called the attack an incident, as if the generic term would minimize what happened. Only it didn’t. Not like she’d hoped. For the past few days as the sisters hammered out the final details, she endured the puzzled glances shared between them when they thought she wasn’t looking. Obviously they were wondering what the hell was wrong and what had happened to their life-of-the-pa
rty sister. Bella wanted to tell them, but she wouldn’t ruin Izzy’s wedding. She’d put her sister first like Izzy had done most of her life for Bella and her sisters.
A knock on the bathroom door diverted her attention. She glanced in the mirror to see Cedric push the door open. He regarded her with a mixture of impatience and worry, his blue eyes troubled.
“Are you ready yet?” He tugged on his bowtie in obvious discomfort.
Bella fretted with her hair in the mirror. She put on her favorite deep-red lipstick, decided against it, and wiped it off. She opted instead for a pink shade called cotton candy. It must’ve belonged to Emma as she’d never owned a shade that tame.
“You look great.” Cedric stood behind her and rubbed her shoulders with his big hands. His large body filled the small room, and heat radiated from him, causing Bella to fan herself. In the past, she’d have jumped his bones for a quickie. Today, she slipped out of reach. He frowned and released a long-suffering sigh, which had become all too common lately. Of course, he wanted her. Cedric had a healthy sex drive rivalled only by Bella’s until recently.
“What did you do to that dress?” He stared directly at her cleavage or lack of.
“It was a little too low so I pinned up it.”
One blond eyebrow shot into his hairline. “Bells, you can’t see the scar,” he said softly in a voice that almost undid her. He ran a hand up and down her arm. She fought back the tears, berating herself for being so ridiculously emotional over nothing.
“I know.” She swallowed hard, pissed she was tearing up. She’d ruin her makeup.
“Honey, the attack wasn’t your fault. It’s okay to show a little cleavage. It’s okay to be a woman proud of her body. You have an incredible body. Why not show it off?”
“Please, this is hard enough.” She held up her hands to fend him off as he stepped toward her.
He stopped, frowned, and scratched his head. “I’m sorry. I’m fumbling through this, but I’ll be with you every step of the way if that’s what you want.”
“That’s what I want.” She despised the neediness in her voice, yet there it was. Turning, she shoved a few things in her bag, grabbed her coat, and accepted Cedric’s arm, ignoring his searching gaze. She clung to him as they rode the elevator to the parking garage. Bella jumped at every noise—real and imagined—as they made their way across the dimly lit space to his sports car.
He helped her into the passenger seat and hurried to the driver’s side. As soon as he sat down, she flipped the door locks.
“Bella, have you been out of the condo by yourself since…since it happened?”
She swallowed and shook her head, holding her hands in her lap so he couldn’t see them tremble.
“You haven’t.” His voice was barely a whisper. He reached for her cold hands and held them. “Oh, baby, I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.”
“I know,” she croaked. Despite how unreasonable her behavior was, she couldn’t shake off her fear, but she fucking would not ruin Izzy’s night. She’d be the strong Bella she’d always been and get through this somehow with Cedric’s help.
A half hour later they arrived at the wedding venue; Cedric handed his keys to the valet and offered his arm to Bella. She gratefully accepted and grabbed his arm in a death grip. Pasting a fake smile on her lips, she straightened her shoulders and walked beside her man to the front door.
“I promise I’ll catch you if you fall.”
She touched her lips to his cheek. “I know you will.”
She meant those words. She trusted Cedric, and Bella didn’t trust many people.
Chapter 5—I Do or I Don’t
Cedric winked at Bella and tossed her his best playful grin, trying to loosen her up. She smiled stiffly in response and gripped his arm tighter as they stood outside the ballroom doors of Ethan Parker’s waterfront mansion, waiting for their turn. The rest of the wedding party had already taken their places, leaving them and the bride.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, patting her hand on his arm. She dug her fingernails into his tux jacket—any deeper and she’d be drawing blood. He felt horribly inadequate and clueless as to what to do to help her.
“I know.”
“You’re beautiful.” He spoke with absolute sincerity.
“Thank you.”
Cedric sighed, feeling as if he were making small talk with a stranger. Bella leaned into him as they walked down the makeshift aisle between the tables. The entire place looked like a winter wonderland. Bella wobbled on her heels, and Cedric gripped her waist. Most of the guests probably assumed Bella was either drunk or had imbibed in a joint with her father, Rock Maxwell, before the ceremony. Cedric knew she’d done neither.
For reasons he didn’t understand, the crowd of people triggered something about the attack, and he suspected she was fighting off a panic attack. He paused as they reached the location where they were to part and stand on opposite sides.
“Are you going to be okay?”
“I have to be.” She gazed up at him, steely resolve in her green eyes. He almost smiled, happy to see the old Bella still existed.
“That’s my girl.” Reluctantly, he released her and took his spot next to Cooper, who was white as a ghost and tugging on his collar as if being strangled.
Bella managed a tight smile and carefully made her way to where Avery and Emma stood.
The music changed to the traditional wedding march. Izzy walked down the grand staircase on her father’s arm and into the large ballroom with her head held high and her movements graceful. The guests seated among fake winter frost and snow scenes stood and turned to watch her as she walked up the aisle.
Izzy was so incredibly stunning, and her smile so radiant that an odd longing nested in the dead center of Cedric’s chest. He pictured Bella walking toward him in a long white gown with a sexy smile and her green eyes sparkling with joy and devilment. He blinked a few times, trying to regain a semblance of sanity. He’d never imagined any portion of his wedding, let alone every vivid detail. He fucking didn’t do shit like that.
Cedric’s gaze slid to Bella as she put on a brave front for her family, but he read the truth in her wrinkled brow and the smile that didn’t reach her eyes. If he could take on her pain, he would. If he could slay her dragons, he would. If he could heal her, he’d be the happiest man on the planet. But Cedric wasn’t a miracle worker. He was just a man, and all he had to offer Bella was himself, as imperfect and flawed as he was.
If only that would be enough.
Cooper cleared his throat next to Cedric, jarring Cedric into the present. Despite his worries about Bella, he too had duties to perform tonight as the best man. He glanced at Coop, who wasn’t looking too good, and elbowed him.
“She’ll be pissed as hell if you toss your cookies right in front of her and the guests.”
Cooper nodded and swallowed, but sweat had beaded on his forehead. Despite his nervousness, his gaze locked on Izzy. The look on his face said it all. This was a man in love. A man who’d found his final missing piece. A man who had a bright future with the other half of his soul. Coop had everything Cedric suddenly wanted.
Izzy looked fucking beautiful, like some fairy-tale princess. Cedric couldn’t be happier for his friend.
“You’re a lucky bastard,” Cedric whispered, and he meant it.
His comment brought a grin to Cooper’s face as Izzy walked the final few steps and took his arm.
The ceremony was thankfully brief. After which, Cooper bent Izzy over his arm and kissed the hell out of her. Cedric and his hockey-playing brethren hooted and hollered and banged on the tables.
Cedric moved to Bella’s side, and she smiled up at him, a true, genuine smile that gave him hope when he needed it most.
* * * *
Bella clutched Cedric’s muscular arm and ignored his grimace. The poor man’s arm would be covered in bruises before the night was over.
The place had erupted, morphing from a classy wedding ce
remony into a crazy party that would last well into the night if the Maxwell women knew how to throw a party—and they did, even though Bella wasn’t bringing her A-game.
“Toughen up,” she whispered in his ear, allowing her lips the luxury of brushing against his cheek. A small sliver of excitement raced through her, and she secretly rejoiced at the first sign of passion she’d had since the incident.
Her reward was a heated glance from him, which gave her a guilty start for teasing him. Cedric had to be horny as hell even though he tried to hide it, but she didn’t think she could deliver tonight, despite the little spark she’d felt. Giving him hope was a shitty thing to do to a man who’d been her rock and her refuge. He’d asked nothing in return, not even a kiss. At least, not yet.
He leaned into her, sliding his lips across her jaw up to her earlobe. “Bella, are you doing okay?”
“I’m good as long as you’re with me.” When he slid his hand from her hip to her ass, she shook her head. “Please,” she pleaded. “I’m sorry.”
He frowned and a muscle jerked in his strong jaw. His mouth was set in a grim line of frustration and concern. “Bella, I know it’s still early, but maybe you need counseling or to talk to someone. Fuck, even your sisters.”
“Let’s get through this, and I’ll think about it.” She was lying, and they both knew it. Bella hated the thought of baring her soul to a stranger or family. She’d recover on her own with Cedric’s help, if only he’d have patience with her. Cedric’s staying ability with women didn’t speak well for his ability to stick with a relationship, or even a casual affair, when the going got tough. Yet he’d stuck with her all these months; maybe she was different, maybe she meant more to him than those other women.
Her inner bitch snorted at the thought, reminding her she wasn’t lovable unless she was wildly entertaining, sexy, and outrageous—all qualities that had eluded her lately. No one but her sisters had ever loved her for who she was. Once Cedric figured out the person under the bullshit, he’d sprint away faster than an Olympic speed skater.
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