Gwen and Jackson will take it from there.
I have to admit, I admire their seemingly inexhaustible energy. I’ve been around this group before. They’ll go far into the night, and my brother and Gwen will love every minute of it, and somehow be raring to go tomorrow.
Gwen’s best friend, Jillian, and her husband, Leo, are sitting on the couch, their bodies close, across from Gwen and Jackson. Gwen’s sisters sit in chairs opposite each other, flanking the couches. Wyatt’s pulled up a chair from the other side of the room, making them a cohesive little group.
I’ve parked myself in a chair off to the side.
They’ve only been here a few hours, but they show no signs of my fatigue. Their faces are bright, voices excited as they talk all over each other, laughing boisterously, clearly happy to be together.
Even though I’m included, I feel a little separate from them.
Also, I’m disgruntled. I’ll never admit it to a living soul, but I wish Caden was here. I hate that I’m starting to need him, to depend on his company.
It’s ridiculous. He has no reason to be here. It’s late, and this is informal, and he has his own house. But I wish he was. I want his body next to mine, his leg pressed against mine—his warmth, the heavy weight of his arm on the back of my chair that I could lean into when I want to.
I don’t like that I want this, that I miss it somehow.
I’ve resigned myself to the fact that we’re probably going to sleep together, but I cannot accept needing him. Fucking him, taking advantage of that sinful mouth, talented fingers, and hard body might not be the smartest thing, but it’s something I can handle.
His emotional comfort, though? I’ve got to get those thoughts out of my head.
Caden is the guy you have crazy, once-in-a-lifetime sex with. He’s not a relationship guy. I’ve got to eradicate these thoughts as much as possible.
“Right, Cat?” Gwen asks, jerking me back to the group.
I drag my attention back to find them all staring at me.
Gwen’s friends, Leo and Jillian, have their dark heads tilted.
Gwen’s sisters, all blond and fresh faced, looking more like they’re from LA than Chicago, are smiling.
Gwen and Jackson and Wyatt are all looking at me too, waiting for me to respond to a conversation I have no idea about.
I shift in my chair, shaking my head a little. “I’m sorry, what?”
Gwen’s lips twitch. “I was just saying that Caden is like a gift from God, don’t you think?”
I nod. “He’s something all right.”
A gift from God feels like a bit of an overstatement, but the man certainly knows how to grow things. Under Caden, plants seem to thrive in a way they don’t for other people. It’s annoying, but I can’t fault Wyatt, Gwen, and Jackson for thinking he’s the shit.
“He’s got the gift,” Wyatt says, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his long legs.
I shrug. “You can thank Gabe. He’s the one that found him.”
I can’t even really take credit for it. If I hadn’t been desperate, I’d never have hired him. I would have thrown him out and insisted he never darken our doorstep again.
Gwen’s sister Hope smiles at me. “Do you need any help tomorrow? I can go over your marketing plan and give you some suggestions, if you’re interested.”
Hope might be all sweet and innocent looking with her blond hair, blue eyes, pretty face, and curvy body, but her softness is an illusion. She’s a high-powered consultant that helps startup companies get their infrastructure and operations in place so they have a strong foundation to drive rapid growth.
She’s a workaholic shark that cannot sit still. She practically vibrates with energy.
At her words, I experience a surge of panic. Because I don’t have a marketing plan. I know I’m supposed to have one—it’s on my list—but it’s been on my list for the past year, and every time I go to tackle it, I find something else to do.
My excuse is that I’m pulled in so many directions, always putting out fires, so I take things as they’re thrown at me instead of being proactive.
This is not the way I’m supposed to do things. I’m supposed to be strategic. I have good intentions. I just haven’t gotten there yet.
I can’t admit this, nor can I mumble some sort of polite yes, and then blow her off. Hope is the kind of woman that once you agree, she’ll be at your door, banging it down at six AM to get started.
Luckily, I’m saved from having to answer because Wyatt gives Hope a sidelong glance. “Cat’s got everything under control just fine.”
Wyatt isn’t a fan of Hope. He tolerates her, and the feeling appears to be mutual on her end, so I guess it works out.
Her shoulders tighten. “I wasn’t suggesting she didn’t, just offering my services.” She flips her hair. “Services other companies pay ridiculous sums of money for.”
Wyatt crosses his arms over his chest, unimpressed.
Gwen twirls her wine glass, twisting at the stem. “Here’s an idea, Hope. How about you be a normal person and take the weekend off?”
Gwen’s other sister, Payton, grins. “Yeah, like me. My only plan at the moment is to sleep until at least ten.”
Hope glares. “I’m perfectly capable of relaxing.”
Everyone laughs.
Hope’s spine straightens. “I am!”
Gwen points at her. “Put your money where your mouth is, baby sister. Cancel all your conference calls tomorrow and spend the day doing absolutely nothing.”
Hope huffs. “Like you’re one to talk. You work seventy hours a week.”
Gwen shrugs. “But I’m not one big ball of stress like you are.”
She flounces back in her chair. “I am not a ball of stress.”
Jillian sits forward, inserting herself into the conversation. “Remember that time when we were in college and we kidnapped her and wouldn’t let her study for twenty-four hours?”
Gwen laughs. “We got her drunk, and she danced on the bar. God, that was fun.”
Wyatt raises a brow. “You got video of that? Because I don’t believe it.”
Hope’s shoulders straighten. “I made sure every copy was deleted.”
“That seems a real pity,” Wyatt says in his slow drawl.
Hope scowls. “Maybe you should all just shut up.”
Payton puts her hands on her knees. “I have the video.”
Everyone turns to look at her. She’s just as pretty and blond and blue eyed as her sister, although she’s lean like Gwen. Not as tall, but slightly built—unlike Hope, who’s built for porn.
Hope glares at her sister. “You do not.”
“But I do,” she says sweetly. “I’ve been saving it for when I need to blackmail you.”
“I don’t believe you,” Hope says.
Payton looks at her perfectly polished nails. “Suit yourself.”
This seems like the perfect time to make my escape, so I clear my throat before they get caught up in some other tangent. “Actually, I’m going to head to bed. I have an early day tomorrow.”
Thankfully, nobody tries to stop me—I’m extraneous to the conversation anyway—and amid a chorus of goodnights, I make my way to the safety of my room.
Once I’m there, I go through my nighttime routine, taking off my makeup and slipping on a nightgown. I sit on the bed, and I have every intention of lying down, because I am tired. But I’m also restless and out of sorts.
I slide a glance over to the French doors that lead to my private balcony.
I bite my lower lip. I just want fresh air; it’s got nothing to do with Caden.
It’s not like he’ll be out there on his porch, watching and waiting for me.
The night’s warm breeze will do me good, that’s all.
It’s got nothing at all to do with him.
I want him; I don’t need him.
My fingers clutch the comforter. I should go to bed.
My gaze skitters to the balco
ny.
I’ll just go out for a little bit.
I pick up my Kindle and my phone. I’ll read a little bit.
To relax before bed.
Not in hopes of seeing Caden.
I slip out onto the balcony and slide onto the chaise, resting my Kindle against my bent knees. I skim the darkness, unable to stop searching for signs that Caden might be lurking in the shadows.
I spot nothing.
I narrow my eyes, peering into the darkness.
But I don’t see any movement. I pick up my e-reader and press the button to power it on, ignoring the disappointment in the pit of my stomach.
This anticipation of seeing him, I don’t like it.
Only I don’t know how to stop it either.
I swipe the bottom of the screen, and the book I’ve been reading pops into focus, but I don’t see the words. The black letters blur as Caden fills my overactive mind.
It’s like he’s infecting me, permeating all the corners of my life until I’ve grown to expect him here, around every corner.
Next to me, my phone rings, and I about jump out of my skin. I glance down, and my heart leaps into overdrive as I see Caden’s name filling the display.
I pick it up, doing my very best to regulate my breathing. “Hello?”
“You lookin’ for me, Catarina?” His thick, honeyed voice slides over my skin, and I actually break out in goose bumps.
Not that I’m about to divulge that information. “Taken to stalking, Caden?”
He chuckles. “It’s not stalking if you want it.”
I brush my hair out of my face and again peer into the darkness, searching for him. “Like I don’t have better things to do with my time than wait for you.”
“Want me to come over?” His voice is low, sinful and inviting.
My first reaction is to resist, to fight him and say no—not because that’s what I want, but as a point of pride. So I can pretend he doesn’t affect me as deeply as he does.
But it’s not the truth.
The truth is, I feel like I’d kill to have him sitting next to me.
Talking to me.
Touching me.
“Want me to decide for you?” His tone is teasing, but I know it’s a genuine offer. And I know what he’ll pick.
He doesn’t have the same problem as me. His pride is wrapped up in making me want him, so he’s got plenty to spare at the moment.
I clear my throat. “I’m a grown woman. I can make up my own mind.”
“’Course you can, but it’s easier when I take control over this lust between us, isn’t it?” His words are slow and low, like molasses, hypnotizing me. “You like it when I abdicate you from responsibility, when you can give into your desire and pretend you had nothing to do with it.”
How does he know me so well? He sees inside me, to parts I’d rather keep hidden. My fingers play over the leather of my Kindle case, flitting over the seams as my legs shift from side to side. “Why do you think that?”
“I pay attention.” His answer gives me nothing further, and it frustrates me.
I don’t know what to say, so I fall silent, and there’s nothing but the sound of our breathing over the line—mine light and slightly breathless, his deep and rhythmic.
After a few moments, he asks, “Do you want me to come over?”
If he knows I want him to take control and come over, why is he asking me? Why can’t he do what he knows I want? If he comes over, we’ll go to bed. I’ll finally have him inside me, filling me up. When he’s done with me, my restlessness will be exhausted, and I’ll finally sleep.
My temples pulse with pain, and I realize I’m clenching my jaw. I push a noncommittal response past my lips. “It’s pretty late, and we’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.”
There’s a beat of silence. “All right then.”
Irritation and disappointment crawl through my body. If he pushes, he knows he’ll win. But why doesn’t he push?
And why can’t I give in? All I need to do is say—come over, Caden—and he’ll be here. That’s all I need to do, yet I cannot force myself to say the words. As much as I want him, they will not come.
“So…” I shift in my seat. “I guess that’s it?”
“It doesn’t have to be, if that’s not what you want.”
I bite my bottom lip.
“I can see you struggling. All you need to do is say the words, Cat. That’s all you need to do.”
My head gives a tiny shake. “I can’t.”
“Then I’ll see you in the morning, Catarina.” And with that, he’s gone.
I put down the phone and stare into the darkened corner of the porch where I know he’s sitting.
He emerges from the shadows, puts his hands on the railing, and looks up at me. I feel our gazes lock together across the distance, connecting us.
I will him to come over, to make the walk from his house to mine.
I’ll gladly open the door if he’ll take the step.
But instead, he blows me a kiss and goes inside.
And I’m alone.
Caden
* * *
The kitchen is full when I walk in through the backdoor the following morning. As I stand on the threshold, everyone stops talking and looks at me. The usual people are here—Gwen and Jackson, Natalie, Wyatt, Cat, and Mrs. Potts—but the other people are unfamiliar.
A dark-haired, good-looking Italian guy is sitting next to an even better-looking, tall brunette with stunning features, an Amazon build, and piercing hazel eyes.
Across from Gwen sit two blond-haired beauties, one built like a California swimsuit model, the other like a 1940s pinup.
I smile. “Morning, all.”
The California blonde gives me a long once over before beaming at me, all cunning. “And who might you be?”
“Caden Landry.” Mrs. Potts hands me a cup of coffee, and I take it gratefully, draining half the cup with one gulp. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Caden is our new farm manager, the brilliant one we told you about last night.” Gwen waves in my direction. “Caden, this is my best friend, Jillian, and her husband, Leo.” She points at the two blondes. “And my monster sisters, Payton and Hope.”
The pinup gives me a contained smile. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’m the Hope in that monster sandwich.”
“Pleasure, ma’am.”
“And I’m Payton.” The California blonde flashes me another blinding smile. “Aren’t you a tall drink of water?”
At her blatant flirting, I dart a glance to Cat, who’s paying elaborate attention to something Natalie is doing. I kick back, resting against the counter and hooking one ankle over the other. “You’re not too bad yourself, sweetheart.”
Cat’s shoulders tighten. She’s a little jealous. Well, good. It will do her some good. Besides I’ll set her straight soon enough.
Payton chuckles, all throaty. “I might have a good time here after all.”
Gwen leans over and smacks her on the arm. “Behave yourself. God, you’re incorrigible.”
Payton rolls her eyes. “Please, who do you think I learned it from?” She turns and beams at Jackson, all white teeth and sass. “My big sister was a legend. She taught me everything I know about men.”
Jackson laughs, shaking his head before putting his hand on the nape of Gwen’s neck. “Oh really? Tell me more.”
Gwen presses her fingers to her temples. “She’s exaggerating.”
“Am not.” Payton shakes her head. “Aren’t you always telling us to go ruthlessly after what we want and not be shy about it?”
Jackson scrubs a hand over his jaw. “That does sound like you, darlin’.”
“Anyway,” Gwen says, all drawn out and exaggerated. “Let’s talk about the agenda for the day.”
“Oh goody,” Payton says, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
Hope glances down at her Apple watch. “I’ve got a conference call in fifteen minutes and will be tied up for about three or four hou
rs, but then I’m all yours.”
Payton raises her knees and props her feet on the edge of the chair, giving me a view of her endless legs. “Can’t you take a break for, like, five minutes?”
Hope stares at her sister, wide eyed. “I’m only working four hours today.”
“What a slacker.” Payton sighs. “What do you got for us, Gwen?”
Gwen picks up a sheet of paper. “So, we are all getting drunk later.”
Payton claps her hands. “Finally, the perfect to-do list.”
Gwen laughs. “Cat, is everything for the mixologist taken care of? She’ll be here around one.”
I speak up. “I’m working with Cat to get that done.”
Cat gives me a little scowl, but she doesn’t fool me. I know she’s happy about it.
Gwen smiles. “Perfect. We’ll start drinking around four to sample everything. I figure it’s best to dine alfresco, so as not to distract from the drink concoctions. Then tomorrow we’ll do the menu run-through with the cocktail selections and see how everything works as a cohesive dining event.”
Gwen keeps going, rattling off a bunch of other items on her list and tasking them out to various people in the room with the practiced ease of a woman used to taking charge.
When there’s finally a break in the conversation, I address Cat, ready to get on with the day before Gwen assigns us any more work. “Catarina, are you ready to get started?”
Jackson raises a brow, but I ignore it, focused on the woman who’s been intent on avoiding me this morning.
Her forehead furrows. “Don’t you need to get stuff ready?”
“I’ve taken care of it. I spoke to Lou before I came here. Everything should be ready for us to set up when we get to the tasting room.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Oh.”
Payton grins at me. “A man that prepares. I thought those were mythical beings.”
I take a sip of my coffee. “I have my moments.”
Cat gives a great big sigh and stands. “Well, I guess it’s time to get to work.” She smooths her hand down her niece’s silky blond hair. “Have a good day, baby.”
“Thanks, Aunt Cat. I’ll see you later when we all get drunk.”
Arrogant Bastard Page 17
