by Gemma James
Which he so clearly is right now. Yesterday, I spied them leaving together in the elevator at the end of the day, each claiming opposite sides. The vibe between husband and wife was chilly enough to lower the temperature in the building by ten degrees. Not for the first time, I wonder why he’s staying in the marriage when he’s that unhappy.
The only answer I come up with is that he must love her enough to stay, even though she fucked up. The realization leaves me bitter and green because I wonder if anyone will ever love me enough to stay.
“You’re quiet over there,” Kaden says.
I come back to myself, and that’s when I realize we’re on a residential street on the other side of Union Bay. At least, I think it’s Union Bay. Lesley showed me around Seattle during my first week here, and I recall her bringing me to a park nearby.
“Where are you taking me?” My eyes widen at the upscale neighborhood. Each house seems bigger and more elaborate than the last.
Kaden pulls into a circular driveway made of cobblestone, and my jaw drops at the enormous two-story home nestled in a thicket of trees. The house looks like it belongs in a fairytale, with its pitched gabled roof and mullion windows.
“This is my parents’ house.”
My heart thuds to the bottom of my gut, and I turn frantic eyes on him. “This is not an appropriate date between friends, Kaden.”
“It’s not a big deal. I’ve brought casual dates here before. My parents are always putting on a dinner party for something.”
“What’s the occasion?” It’s bad enough he brought me to meet his parents on our first—and only—date, but if this is an important family function of some sort, that will be even more nerve-wracking.
“It’s my birthday. My mom is the queen of organized fun.” He shrugs a shoulder. “She insisted.”
I fist my hands, palms already sweating. That means Cash will be here too, probably with his wife. And despite how tempting the thought of seeing him is—especially since he’s leaving the day after tomorrow for Oklahoma City—the idea of having to swallow a whole evening of watching him with her is too much.
“This is beyond awkward,” I say, not even trying to hide my dismay. “Is your brother here too?”
“Well, yeah. We are twins,” he teases, aiming that cute and flirtatious smile at me, which does zilch to calm my nerves.
“Cash is my boss. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable this is making me?”
“I didn’t mean to upset you. I really don’t think he’ll mind. He’s not gonna fire you or anything.” He pulls his brows together. “You guys seem friendly enough at work.”
Friendly doesn’t even cover it. Jesus, he has no fucking clue.
“I want you to take me home.”
Letting out a breath, Kaden drags a hand through his hair, and it’s a move that reminds me too much of Cash.
I feel sick.
And stupid.
So fucking stupid.
“Okay,” he relents. “I’ll blow off the dinner.”
“No! You can’t do that because of me.”
“By the time we reach your apartment, everyone will be halfway through the main course. There’ll be no point in turning around to come back.”
I glance out the passenger window, taking in the white luxury car we parked next to. Somehow, I know it belongs to Cash. Or more likely, his wife, because it doesn’t seem like his style. He’s not hung up on luxurious things, regardless of his expensive suits and CEO title.
Underneath the money and power is a man that likes downtown Seattle because he can get around without a car. He’s the type of guy that wears gym shorts to the market on Saturdays. The kind of guy that finds joy in the small things—like going for a walk and eating berries, or brushing his hand over mine on a Ferris wheel.
“C’mon, Jules. I promise, it’ll be fine.”
I cringe when Kaden says my name. He sounds too much like his brother for it to sit right with me, because I fucking love the way Cash says my name.
“I don’t know…”
“We don’t have to stay long. We can always beg off and say we have plans later.”
Gulping back my humiliation, I answer by pushing the passenger door open. And that’s enough for Kaden, as he’s out of the car and at my side seconds later. He takes my arm in his and escorts me down the cobblestone walkway. Solar lanterns light the path to the front entrance, where potted plants decorate the porch. A gentle breeze teases the butterfly wind chimes hanging next to the arched door.
I love butterflies, and something about filthy rich people hanging something so ordinary by the front door is oddly comforting. Maybe Cash got his laid-back personality from his parents. Maybe this night won’t be as awkward and humiliating as I fear. Hell, maybe it’ll be fun.
As Kaden ushers me inside, I know I’m fooling myself. Especially when we come face-to-face with Cash in the living room. God, he looks delicious enough to eat in a charcoal button-up shirt that matches his eyes. Cuffs rolled up, of course. No ties, no suit jackets. The look is so him.
But the hard glint in his gaze isn’t. It’s foreign and a bit frightening, and I’m one breath away from bolting. His eyes are two storm clouds as they swing back and forth between his brother and me.
“Why is your assistant here, Cash?” His wife appears from what I’m guessing is the kitchen. Standing at his side like she belongs there, with an air of sophistication I find intimidating, she backs up her question with a perfectly arched brow as she sips from a glass of wine.
“I was just about to ask that same question.” Cash isn’t addressing his wife—he’s aiming the question at me, and I can’t help but notice the accusing line of his mouth.
“Jules is my date,” Kaden says, winding an arm around my waist and pulling me to his side. I stiffen at his touch, my face flushing hot enough to bring on a sunburn.
Monica places a hand on her hip. “Isn’t this rather inappropriate?”
“I’m sorry,” I say, putting some distance between Kaden and me. “I didn’t realize we were coming here….” I trail off, unsure of what else to say. Finding the words to form an acceptable explanation is next to impossible. I’m not even sure how I ended up here. If only the floor would fissure at my feet and swallow me.
Cash swings a fierce gaze back to his brother. “I need to speak with Jules for a minute.” Giving me no chance to object, he gestures for me to precede him through the French doors off the sitting room. We enter a garden room, and I catch a whiff of the bay through the open windows. The evening is mild and smells of summer, but it has nothing on the seductive woodsy scent wafting off him.
“I’m so…sorry. This is…I mean…” Fuck. I clamp my lips shut to silence my stammering. A trickling waterfall gives off peaceful ambience, and the sound would normally calm my nerves, but it’s not working now.
“Why are you with him, Jules?”
I blink a few times, my pulse fluttering in my throat. “He asked me out.”
“He asked you out?” A tick goes off in his jaw, and he crosses his arms over his chest. I can’t tear my eyes away from his forearms. There’s something insanely sexy about his stance, the low tenor of his voice, and the way he’s pinning me under that fierce gaze that speaks one word and one word only.
Mine.
I want to be his, want to experience every nuance of the possessive vibe vibrating off his skin. The air is thick with it, our yearning palpable.
“And you said yes.”
I’m not sure that’s a question, but if it is, there’s a demand for an explanation behind it. An issuance of anger. Which leaves me gaping at him because he has no right to go all caveman on me. Not as long as that ring is still on his finger. Not as long as there is no him and me.
“I’m sorry if this is awkward, professionally, but you have no place getting so angry over who I date.”
“He’s my brother, Jules. Do you have any idea how much this is gutting me?”
“I think I do.” More th
an he’ll ever know.
Slowly, his arms fall to his sides, and an exhale of defeat steals his anger. But not the longing. It’s ever-present and inescapable for both of us. The urge to pull him near and push him away consumes me. Who knew a few feet of distance could feel so close yet never-ending, all at once?
He closes the space between us by a foot. “Jules…” My name is but a quiver on his lips, a sigh of sorrow on his tongue. The warm graze of his knuckles on my cheekbone is enough to make my knees want to give out. To make me wet.
I’m hot and achy at the core, my panties damp from the electric storm of his gaze. The aftershocks of his touch shake me apart, and the edges around us dim. This moment has trapped us in time—in a fleeting reality where nothing else exists but the two of us.
In this lone and unforgettable moment, there’s only him and me.
Until approaching footsteps thrust us into the next moment, and all the painful ones that are sure to follow. We break apart until we’re standing at an acceptable distance from each other.
“There you are,” a woman says, and I immediately know she’s Cash’s mother, because she has the same dark hair and smoky eyes as her sons. “We’re ready to sit down to dinner now.”
“We’ll be right out.”
Her attention lands on me. “And who is this?”
Silence stretches between the three of us, the seconds ticking away longer than is comfortable. “Don’t be rude, Cash,” she says with a chastising tone only a mother can perfect. “Introduce us.”
“Sorry, Mom. This is Jules. She’s my personal assistant…and Kaden’s date for the night.” His voice is strained, as if his vocal cords are launching mutiny.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Elle,” she says with a welcoming smile that sets me at ease. The kindness I sensed in Cash the first day I met him was obviously passed down from his mother.
I’m about to explain my presence when I spot movement between the open French doors. Kaden is leaning against the door jamb with both hands in his pockets, watching us.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” I tell his mother. “Thanks for having me tonight.” I don’t have the strength for smalltalk right now—not when my skin is still buzzing from the brush of Cash’s knuckles on my cheek
“We’re glad to have you, Jules.”
Anxious to get the hell out of Dodge, I gesture at Kaden. “Looks like he’s waiting for me.” I give Elle a nervous smile before making my way toward Kaden. I don’t need to glance over my shoulder to know that Cash is watching me. The heat of his gaze burns into my back, intense as the sun. But it’s a good kind of hot—the kind with tingles and goosebumps and sparks of awareness between my thighs.
Kaden pushes off the door jamb as I reach him. “If he gave you any shit about us—”
“No,” I interrupt the impending tirade I sense is coming. “He was just wondering what was going on, so I told him we had a date tonight.” Arching a brow, I let my irritation glower across my face. “You might want to brace yourself for an earful later. You could have told him. Or me, for that matter.”
“I’ll talk to him,” he says, draping an arm around my shoulder. “If it’s your job you’re worried about, there’s no need.”
My job is the least of my worries.
16. Meet the Parents - Cash
Jules can barely look at me. The clinking of silver on china and the polite, hushed conversation does little to cut through the tension between us. I pray to God no one else picks up on it. She’s sitting next to my brother across the table from me, unusually quiet and subdued. I don’t like her this way, with the warmth in her brown eyes gone and the smile I adore absent from her lips. She’s far too interested in the grilled halibut on her plate.
I can’t keep my attention from straying to her every few seconds. Hell, she looks amazing tonight with the sky lit up behind her in soft pink and orange hues. The light breeze coming off Union Bay is rustling through all of that luscious, wavy hair falling around her face. And the neckline on that little black dress…Jesus. It’s modest by most standards, but it doesn’t take much to get my dick hard when it comes to Jules, and that’s exactly what the hint of her cleavage is doing to me right now.
“You have a beautiful home,” she tells my mother. “The view is amazing.”
I have to agree with her, but it’s not the expanse of green lawn or the water I find so alluring, nor the willow tree off to the side of the patio where the eight of us are seated for dinner. If anything is beautiful here, it’s Jules.
“Thank you,” my mother says. “So how long have you worked for my son?”
And that’s when she finally meets my eyes. It’s a blip in time—insignificant to anyone watching—but to me it’s everything. To me it’s reassurance that what we feel is still there, despite the fact that she’s sitting next to my brother as his date.
“Just a few weeks,” she answers.
“Speaking of the company,” my father-in-law says, “are we any closer to becoming grandparents?” Ned Blake’s voice is deep and gruff, and his question throws me completely off guard. Monica freezes at my side, and I catch her shooting daggers at her father.
“You’ll be among the first to know,” I say, slicing a metaphorical knife through the tension his intrusive question brought on.
“Better get busy, son,” Ned says. “Never too soon to begin planning for the future of MontBlake.”
Monica scoots her chair back on the brick patio. “Please, excuse me for a moment.”
The disquiet that emerges as she disappears into the house is staggering.
“Ned, please. This isn’t the time or place.” Veronica Blake is without a doubt the mother of my wife. The woman is staring down her husband with the same cold, calculated look I find in Monica’s eyes everyday.
“It’s not like we see them often enough to have this conversation, Roni.”
What the Blakes—or my parents, for that matter—don’t know is that Monica doesn’t want kids right now. Shortly after we married, I discovered she was taking birth control pills. I didn’t understand her need for secrecy at the time, but as the months wore on, it became clear to me. She couldn’t handle the pressure our families put on us, and it was easier to take the pills in secret than deal with their disapproval.
Ever the mediator, my mother clears her throat before addressing Kaden. “How did you and Jules meet?”
“We met at the club. Her friend is in a band.” The carefree smile he aims at Jules digs under my skin. “You’re going to be there next weekend when they play, right?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” She returns his smile, and I want to stab someone. I don’t like her looking at him like that; it’s too close to the way she looks at me.
“Still wasting time on that dead-end venture, I see.” Dad’s voice is sharp and scathing, putting everyone on alert. “When are you going to sell that hole in the wall and come work for MontBlake? There’s still time to do something worthwhile with your life.”
“The corporate world isn’t for me,” Kaden says. “You already know this.”
“I refuse to believe it. Thirty-years-old and you’ve got nothing to show for it but a night club. Look at what Cash has accomplished.”
Jesus. Here we go again. I pinch the bridge of my nose, irritated on Kaden’s behalf. He might be sitting next to the one woman I’d give my right arm to be with, but he’s still my brother.
“Sure, Dad. Cash looks really happy with all of that responsibility on his shoulders. It must suck to work so fucking hard to live up to your unreasonable expectations.”
“Kaden!”
“Sorry, Mom. Just keeping it real.”
“You know what you lack?” Dad says, wagging his finger at my brother.
“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”
“Initiative.”
“How do I lack initiative? I own my own business. And business has been good, I’ll have you know. I don’t answer to anyone, and that’s the way I like
it.”
“You’re thirty-years-old, Kaden. It’s time to stop throwing your life away. You’ll never find a suitable wife at this rate.”
“You mean like Cash has? Again, case in point,” he says, gesturing to the doors Monica disappeared through. “Where’s his wife now? Oh, that’s right. She’s the only smart one here, since she bolted before the usual vitriol began.” Rising to his feet, Kaden throws his fork down. “Let’s go, Jules. I’m sorry I made you sit through this bullshit. I was stupid to think we could get through one fucking dinner without going to war.”
She slowly stands, pink tinting her cheeks. And no matter how hard I try to catch her eye, she refuses to look at me.
“Kaden, it’s your birthday,” Mom says. “Don’t leave.”
“Sorry, Mom, but I can’t do this.” As my brother and Jules head for the door, she finally glances at me, and it makes me crazy that I can’t read her expression, especially since her face is usually an open book.
The silence hanging over the table in their wake is crushing.
“Thank God for Cash and Monica,” my father says. “Those two are going to do amazing things at MontBlake.”
The slam of a car door echoes through the night. A few seconds later, an engine roars to life. Unable to take it any longer, I push back my chair and stand. “Since you think everything is so perfect, maybe you should know that Monica is cheating on me.”
My mother gasps, and Jed Blake’s face flushes with outrage. But the shocking revelation doesn’t seem to faze my father.
“Well man-up and put a stop to it.”
I take in each person at the table. Ned with his immovable disposition, and Roni with her icy blue-eyed indifference. My dad and his superiority and pig-headed know-it-all nature. My mom is the only one I feel bad for, because she’s too kind-spirited to handle the bullshit Ned and my father put her through.
The shit they’ve put us all through for years.
“I don’t even know why I try anymore,” I say. “Our marriage is crumbling. Monica sure as hell isn’t happy. I’m not either. In fact, I don’t see a single person at this table who looks happy right now.”
