by Ava Claire
Which meant maybe I should have let him explain before I kicked him out on his ass.
Maybe he loved me too.
Too close to turn back, I strode to the roped off area. A bleary-eyed security guard grunted for my wrist. I brought it up to eye-level, and he let me pass.
The wriggling mass of people were shoulder to shoulder. Ages ranged from young to old, all there for Cade. It was five minutes until the show started. Worry settled over me like a fog. I was so close to the back. What if the camera didn’t catch my sign? What if he didn’t see me?
You’re already here. Make sure you’re seen.
I had to muscle my way to the front.
I glanced around, trying to determine the path. There were a group of frat looking guys to my right, tweens to my left. I went with the tweens, squeezing to the next row up. The next row was families, kids raised up on their parent’s shoulders. I said excuse me, with the biggest smile I could muster. After a few more apologies and elbows, I was two rows from the barrier.
The weather reporter, a boisterous man with a voice that carried even without his mic was doing the same spiel he always did, asking the people in the front where they were from. I found the cameraman and shot my sign up.
The signs around me waved wildly, so I stood still, hoping my strange sign and lack of eagerness would make me stand out from the pack.
“All right folks, we’re on a commercial break! After Cade’s interview, we’ll do a second pass.”
I dropped my arms, heart sinking.
It didn’t work.
Figures. The first time I try to do some dramatic gesture, it blows up in my face.
“Hey you!”
The girl beside me squeaked an answer and I angled toward the exit, trying to decide if I should just go into work after all. The kids were the only thing that could lift my mood after all of this, anyway.
“No,” the thickly accented voice barked. “Not you. The redhead!”
I froze, biting my lip excitedly.
“The redhead in the sweatshirt!” he elaborated.
Still not believing he was talking about me, I looked down at my heather gray sweatshirt and let out a squeal of my own. I spun back to the front. He had a badge clipped to his blazer. The letters PA were emblazoned on it. He was one of the production assistants.
The PA beckoned me to him, and I pushed to the gate. He whispered something to security, and they let me through.
He pulled me aside, knowing his words would get lost in the crowd’s whoops. “Are you Megan Scott?”
“Yes,” I answered with a grin plastered on my face.
“Come with me.”
The broadcast building stretched to the sky, windows shimmering like diamonds. I was too nervous to appreciate being inside a building I’d only seen on television. It was all a blur as I got a visitor’s badge and the elevator took us up to the 24th floor. When we stepped out of the elevator, we stood in the center of a flurry of movement, everyone in a rush, with tasks that needed to be done yesterday.
The PA seemed to have forgotten all about me, until I cleared my throat.
“Oh, right.” He pointed at the end of the hall. “The sound stage is all the way down, to the right. The interview should be wrapping any minute. Mr. Wallace wants to see you after.”
After being in a daze, reality kicked me in the teeth. Cade had seen my poster. Cade was right down there...and I’d have to talk to him. The PA left me to fend for myself, and I gulped hard, willing my body forward.
After nearly colliding with several people that didn’t even bother slowing down, I saw a sign for the sound stage. A highly caffeinated looking woman with a headset and piercing brown eyes brought a finger to her lips, stopping me before I entered.
She tilted her head to the side like she was listening to someone, then walked over to me. “Are you Megan?”
My mouth was bone dry, so I swallowed and nodded.
She smirked. “That was some sign.”
I bit my lip, warmth stinging my cheeks. “T-Thanks.”
“You wanna watch the last bit of his interview?”
I looked past her, Cade’s baritone voice filtering through the dark curtains. My heart skipped a beat. “Absolutely.”
I followed her, hitching a breath when I saw him. He glowed beneath the light, his black button down shirt accentuating the muscles flexing beneath. I pulled my gaze to his face, a smile on his lips bringing one to my own.
“So I know all of the women at home are dying to know,” one of the blond hosts purred, a cheshire grin coating her red lips. “Is there anyone special in your life?”
His smile broadened, and he stroked his chin playfully. “Hmm...”
My throat tightened as I waited for his response.
He leaned in, and the host copied the movement, her cheeks tinged pink.
“There is someone,” he said smoothly.
I took a step forward, every pore in me wanting to go to him, but someone hooked my arm. The caffeine woman’s eyes nearly bulged from her skull.
“They’re still live!” she hissed.
I hung my head in embarrassment. “Sorry.”
“Well, there you have it ladies,” the host sighed like she’d just heard the saddest news in her whole life. “It seems Cade Wallace is off the market. We’ll just have to settle for swooning over him in Soldier’s Creed, in theaters everywhere this Friday!”
The lights dimmed, and Cade shook hands, thanking them for having him on. As soon as he said the last thank you, I stepped onto the stage. His gaze shifted to me, and his smile changed to something deep and sensual, just for him and I.
“Hi,” I said hoarsely, with an awkward little wave.
He strode toward me and excitement launched me forward. I met him halfway. Nerves wreaked havoc on the speech I’d prepared, and we just stood there, staring at each other. My lips twitched as I fiddled with the drawstring on my hoodie.
“My heart stopped when I saw you.”
Goosebumps rippled over me. “About what happened—”
Cade cleared his throat, glancing behind me.
I frowned and turned to look too. All the people that seemed terribly busy were frozen. Eyes on us. Riveted. Realizing they were caught, they quickly tried to cover their eavesdropping.
Cade intertwined his fingers with mine. “How about we head to my dressing room?”
He didn’t let go until we faced a door that had his name taped to the front in big, block letters.
Recessed lighting shone down on us, and my eyes skated over the high end furniture and art prints that I was fairly sure were originals. “Fancy.”
He chuckled. “I am Cade Wallace.” His face went serious, and his eyes darted away from me, like he couldn’t look me straight on because it was too hard. “About the sign...you’re sorry? I’m the one that screwed up.”
I gently turned his chin back to me. I needed him to look in my eyes, and I needed to look into his. “Yeah, you did.”
He narrowed his gaze, and I bit back a smile. I needed to get this out, because being so close to him made me want to make use of the couch behind us. Talking first, wild sex after.
“I screwed up too. I jumped to conclusions, and I didn’t let you explain.” I drew my thumb across his chin, relishing the feel of his skin against mine before I dropped my hand. “I’m listening now.”
He massaged the back of his neck wearily. “It’s a long story.”
“Well,” I said, marching to the couch and dropping with a sigh. “Lucky for you, I took the day off.
He hesitated like he wanted to join me, but something was holding him back. I patted the cushion beside me.
“You might not want to be near me when you hear what I have to say.”
I raked my fingers through my red hair, tucking it behind my ear. “Whether I like it or not, and I like it, for the record,” I added. “I’m yours. Period.”
He gave me a look so full of longing that my heart fluttered in my check. “And I’m your
s, Megan.” He inhaled all the air in the room and released it before he joined me on the couch. “You sure you want to hear this?”
I nodded. “I’m sure.”
He eyed me skeptically, then dipped his head twice.
“I was married before. I was young. 18—and the world was my oyster, filled with all kinds of women to screw.”
I frowned. If he was married...
I bristled, the truth raking over me like the teeth of some old, familiar beast. “You cheated on your wife?”
He looked away guiltily. “So often that I lost count. Even when she was at home while I was deployed, waiting for me, praying for me, I was fucking any female GI I could get my hands on.”
So my first inclination was right. He was a cheater. I studied the taut line of his jaw, the quiver of his lips. He carried this guilt with him. He was chained by it. Was that why he didn’t say it back? Because he was punishing himself? I wanted to ask him so badly, but he was clearly struggling just to get this out, so I let him finish.
“One of the guys in my squad blew the whistle. He wrote to my wife, Sophia, and told her everything.” He shook his head disgustedly. “I thought she’d leave my sorry ass, but she said she would stay if we never talked about it. I thought I was home free. She just wanted to pretend nothing happened. But when I got home, I knew that was impossible. She was different. Withdrawn. Damn near robotic.”
Cade ran a hand over his cropped blond hair, back and forth, like he was trying to rub the stain off the memory. The pain he caused was a pain I knew well. There was nothing like the hollow agony of being cheated on. It eats at you, and poisons every memory with its touch. The pain heals, but it never really goes away. The scab is ripped off with every new relationship, because there’s always that niggling doubt festering in your head. The worry that you’re not enough.
His sorrowful voice pulled me from my spiral.
“I decided to try and be better,” he continued. “I was gonna leave the military. And she hated the city, so we were gonna move to the country. I came home to tell her the news and—” He stopped like he hit some barrier, emotion exploding over his face. “And...” A sob escaped from his lips.
The sound was so agonizing and foreign coming from him that I reached for him, stroking his back. I closed my eyes, trying to channel my love, my strength, into my touch, even as tears cascaded down my cheeks.
He collected himself and pressed on. “She slit her wrists in the bathtub. She killed herself because the one man who promised to love and cherish her betrayed her.”
I stopped stroking, his words sinking in.
He cut his eyes at me with a sad chuckle. “Disgusted yet?”
I sifted through my feelings. I was shocked by the image of him finding his wife that way. Sad for his wife, and the hopelessness she must have felt to decide that death was the only escape. And I was appalled that he’d been so careless with her heart, and his vows. But disgusted was nowhere to be found. I could see with my own eyes how this haunted him. How he’d take it all back if he could.
I shook my head. “I’m not disgusted. I’m sorry—”
“There’s the apology again,” Cade spat, jerking to his feet. “I’m the asshole here. I’m the one that’s sorry.”
“Cade—”
“You don’t get it,” he cut me off angrily. “I want to believe that I’ve changed. That I’m a better person now. But why does that matter? I don’t deserve a second chance.”
I rose, steeling my wobbling voice. “What happened wasn’t your fault. Your wife loved you—”
“And look at what it got her?” he finished tersely.
“And she would want you to live,” I corrected gently. I put both hands on his chest, gazing up at him. The man I loved wasn’t perfect, but who was? I sure as hell wasn’t. But maybe, we could be pretty damn close to perfect together. I wouldn’t let him walk away from us because he thought he hadn’t atoned for his sins.
So I said the three words again.
“I love you, Cade.”
He closed his eyes, like the words were rippling through him. “I’m no good for you. What if I slip up? What if I hurt you?”
“Then I’ll chop off your balls and wear them as earrings,” I said without missing a beat. I laughed, and he cracked a smile. I was joking. Mostly.
He pressed his lips against my temple. Warmth spread over me like the sun itself was shining in his touch. Almost bright enough to outshine the worry that scratched my chest. I’d put Cade on a pedestal, believing he was the polar opposite from the guys I’d been with. His confession sent him toppling, and left me reeling.
Chapter Fifteen
Cade
Her lips were soft as a whisper. Something fragile and perfect, just for me. How was it possible that other men had kissed these lips and longed for anything more? How could they have the woman in my arms and still wander? My conscience itched, mouthing a single word.
Sophia.
I slugged that thought and shoved it aside. I combed my fingers through Megan’s tousled waves, bringing her close. Her sweet aroma invaded my senses. She lined my lips with her tongue, staking her claim. Her mouth was insistent, demanding. She took all the air from my lungs. It was a beautiful death, but there was something in her urgency in her touch that made my heart ache. Her words had been so sure of us; that this was right.
Her lips said something else entirely.
They spoke of doubt, repeating it over and over like she was trying to force it to become truth...or convince herself of it.
She was unsure of my love for her. My devotion.
I cradled her face in my hands, leaning in until my forehead kissed hers. The flush in her cheeks matched the flush in mine. Her skin was warm with the same electricity that made me want to forget my pause and fast forward to the good part: Megan splayed out on the couch; me buried inside her. But I’d waited this long. Five more minutes wouldn’t do me in.
I strummed her cheek with my thumb. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
She sunk her teeth in her bottom lip, and my hardened cock strained against my fly.
“I think you know,” she said huskily.
I separated from her. Just a few inches. I couldn’t be so close to her and fight the urge to have her. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
She drew her bottom lip into her mouth, sucking on it. It was the smallest of gestures, but it was as bold as if she’d dropped to her knees. I had to clear my throat to mask my growl. Fuck I wanted her.
Her eyes evaluated me, green opals twinkling. She knew she had me wrapped around her finger, but she upped the ante. She drove her hand to my crotch and stroked my erection. “Is this better?”
Everything dimmed except for the pistons firing. Pulse shooting. My eyes darkened as the lust in me broke out of the compartment I shoved it into in favor of talking about feelings. When did I become the kind of guy that talked about feelings? Well, there’s one way to get your balls back. Take her. Right here. Right now.
I’d all but decided—until her eyes flickered. I had seen fear before she erased it.
“Look—”
“Cade, I need this.”
“Need?” I repeated, frowning at the word. It wasn’t a sexy kind of need. She’d said the word like a junkie said they needed a hit. Like a kid plugging their ears in refusal of hearing the truth.
I took her hand and tugged our way back to the couch. She didn’t sit. Her arousal had soured into frustration.
“What is this? I told you that I’m yours, and don’t hold the past against you.”
“I know—” I started.
“And I said I love you, and you said it back.” The embers weren’t cold. Her fingers raked my cheek, sending a slice of want through me, settling in my groin. She traced my bottom lip. “I’d say that’s cause for celebration.”
Her breasts were at eye level, round and tempting, even behind her shapeless sweatshirt. Eyes on her face! “And I want to celebrat
e. But we have forever for that and some—”
Her hand shot out, covering my mouth with her palm. Her green eyes jutted out of her skull, her rich, milky complexion diluting to something closer to bathwater gray.
“Did you just say...forever?”
Her hand was still clamped over my mouth, and she blinked at me like she was expecting a response, then remembered her mouth was preventing one and dropped it.
I had said forever. And it didn’t terrify me. It just felt right.
She kind of looked like she was in shock, so I tried to lighten the atmosphere in the suffocatingly quiet room.
“Well, I certainly don’t go around saying I love you to every woman I meet. When I say those three words, it’s real. And...permanent.” I realized just how true that word was. I’d fucked up with Sophia, but I loved her. A part of me would always love her.
Megan gulped, her neck muscles rippling, then going still. Her eyes softened and turned liquid. “I can’t lose you, Cade. I need you.”
That need was crystal clear. It clicked into place, the notches finally lining up. I thought her wary response, then quick apology was strange. Amazing—-but strange. She’d heard the words before—I love you—and then the men broke her heart in two.
She was terrified of losing me. Of me straying. So for her, sex was her way to please me and ensure my eyes didn’t wander.
I pulled her into my lap, her long limbs draped perfectly as she leaned against my shoulder and sighed.
“You don’t have to fuck me to make sure I don’t leave, Megan.”
She acknowledge it with a nod, but I lifted her chin and held it firmly as I searched her eyes. I still found doubt.
“I love you, Megan. I’ll say it over and over if I have to, until you’re sick of hearing it. I have no interest in anyone else. The guy that I was, the women I screwed just because I could, he’s gone. These aren’t just words to me.” I released her, but she didn’t budge, studying me intently.
After a moment, she locked both arms back around my neck and nuzzled me. “I know you don’t think they’re just words. I know you’re not that guy. Even when I didn’t want to believe it, on some level, I knew that you were safe. That you were different. But then you told me about your wife...” She trailed off painfully, and I stiffened.
