One Funeral (No Weddings Book 2) (12 page)

T
he morning after Dwight’s epic bunny bash, the rush of deliveries to restaurants and hotels for their Easter brunches and egg hunts had me, Chloe, and Daniel sprinting around town like our asses were on fire. By the time Sunday night finally came, I was beyond exhausted.

Cade suggested we order in Chinese food instead of cooking, and I almost fell to my knees in thanks. During dinner, the boys kept up their end of the conversation, plus filled in for mine with understanding smiles. Me? I mostly grunted and groaned.

On the fringes of my awareness, I knew Cade was cooling it again in front of his friends, keeping his distance from me, barely touching. But the rigors of the day and a second glass of dry Riesling helped mellow my concerns about it by several degrees.

When we walked into Cade’s bedroom to study, I squealed at seeing his bed and took a flying leap onto it. Then I remembered Dwight doing the same thing to the beach-bunny cake and burst out laughing. When I rolled over, Cade shook his head at me with a smirk on his face.

Thirty minutes later, he had us working on separate assignments. At his desk with his back to me, he typed with furious speed on his laptop. I laid facedown in the center of his bed, hand scrawling a list of brainstorming ideas onto a lined notepad. Resting the end of the pen on my lip, I smiled at my purple lined paper. Cade had bought both for me, and the thought of him buying purple paper in an office supply store never failed to amuse me.

There are worse things I suppose, like buying tampons. Why do men think it would be the total end of the world to buy a box? They should be grateful it’s tampons and not something really horrid, like hemorrhoid cream. I laughed at the thought.

Cade’s office chair swiveled around on a creak. “What’s so funny?”

Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. “Nothing.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Bullshit.”

I teased him in a lilting singsong voice, “I’m nooot telliiing.”

Faster than I could register his movement, he snatched my notepad away. He scanned the list I’d made. “This isn’t funny.” He glanced back at the notepad. “It’s actually quite innovative.”

Making grabby hands with my fingers, I reached for the list. “Give it back. I’m not done yet.”

He held it high above his head. “First, I want to know what you were laughing at.”

The corners of my lips twitched. “Men buying tampons.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You are a complex and twisted woman.”

Biting my lip to fight a smile, I shrugged. “You asked. Now gimme.”

His eyes glittered with amusement and something a bit darker as he watched me, continuing on as if I hadn’t said a word. “And yet I like you anyway. I like you a lot, actually. Maybe
because
of your crazy mind and not in spite of it.”

“Gee, thanks.” I rolled my eyes, trying not to beam in happiness at his words.

My shoulder muscles began to cramp from my propped-elbows position. I pushed my arms forward, stretching, then rolled over, pulling my arms higher over my head while pointing my bare feet toward his nightstand. At his silence, I glanced back at him.

He stared at me, a deep intensity in his eyes, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths. “I like seeing you sprawled out on my bed.”

Feeling a bit wicked and way too unfiltered from the second glass of wine at dinner, I smirked. “Yeah? And why is that?”

I expected him to go all kinds of naughty with that fodder, but he simply stared at me. Then his expression softened, like the reasons opened up deeper in his mind, and he couldn’t quite put words to them yet. “It’s hard to explain.”

My lips relaxed into a gentle smile. “Try.”

On a deep breath, he tilted his head. “This is my world, my private space. And from the very first moment you stepped into it, instead of being uncomfortable in my surroundings and sitting in a chair, you immediately gravitated to my bed, where I sleep—where I’m at my most vulnerable. Every time you stretch out there, you seem so relaxed, comfortable…happy.”

An odd warmth blossomed in my chest; my heart might have actually melted. “It’s because I am. I feel safe here in your room. On your bed.”

The skin at the corner of his eyes crinkled as his smile broadened. “I like that. A lot.”

“Good.” Glancing up at him as the conversation lulled, I realized I was still on my back, limbs stretched wide. Almost spread-eagle. Heat flushed across my skin when his expression changed as if on the same wavelength.

His eyes darkened as he leaned forward in his chair, raking an electrifying gaze over my body. Chills broke out across my skin under his scrutiny, my nipples tightening under my thin T-shirt when his attention paused on my chest.

He let out a measured breath. “I can’t wait for you to feel
in
my bed.”

I let my thoughts fly. “Feel what?”

Emotions flickered across his face, like he battled with how naughty he wanted to go. Eventually, the wicked gleam in his eyes and smirk on his lips told me he’d decided to play.

Leaning closer, he rested his forearms on his thighs. “Feel everything.”

I rolled onto my side, resting my head onto my propped up hand. “How vague. Care to be more specific?”

“No. I’m not broadcasting the itinerary. Some things are best experienced, not planned.”

Arching my brow, I pursed my lips together. “Are you telling me you haven’t thought about it? Of us naked, here in your bed?” I patted the comforter in illustration, in case he needed the visual. I was having fun teasing him. With the tension I saw in the twitching muscles of his arms and thighs, I knew he enjoyed my playing too.

“Oh, I’ve thought of it. Fantasized about it. Imagined every position I’d bend you into, each sound you’d make, and how you’d plead for mercy, then beg for more.”

My pulse kicked up, and my smile faded. I blinked and swallowed hard. Everything had gone bone-dry from my neck up. With the pulsing ache between my legs, it was likely due to all the wetness flooding elsewhere.

I exhaled a slow breath. We were playing a game of chicken here, and I needed to swerve to avoid the head-on collision.

Without warning, Cade lunged. I fell back, and suddenly, he was over me on the bed, all taut muscle and raging heat, barely holding control. His eyes were so dark with his pupils blown wide, I marveled at how he had any restraint left.

I froze. My mind did too, thoughts tangled in shock.

Braced on his arms above me, he stared down, his eyes boring deep into mine, like he was looking for something buried inside. I wondered what he saw.

Taking a deep breath, I touched my fingers to his forearm. He blinked. And with that one touch, the spell was broken.

He pinched his eyes shut and dropped his body down until it rested lightly on my chest, braced by his arms and legs. Soft lips brushed along my jaw until they landed right below my ear, pressing there for a heartbeat. “You drive me crazy, Hannah. I’m holding back, waiting for us to be ready, but your teasing is killing me.”

Nuzzling my head toward his, I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Tell me you don’t love it.”

He growled, nipping my earlobe with his teeth. “You know I do.”

I smiled. “Then I won’t stop.”

“You’ve been rowdier than usual tonight.” He sighed, his hot breath trekking down the side of my neck.

“I blame the wine.”

He pulled back, looking down at me. “Fuck. I don’t know if I should cut you off or open another bottle.”

I didn’t know either. If inhibitions down meant me teasing and him taking the bait, I definitely liked the latter. Even though he’d been holding back physically, especially in the presence of his friends and sisters, tonight’s validation of how badly he still wanted me helped shore up my confidence in us as a couple. Our progress may have only been in small increments, but we were moving forward—toward each other.

I gave him a quick peck on his lips, but when he deepened the kiss, pressing for more, I slid my hands in between us, pushing up on his chest. He broke contact, staring at me, heaving for breath.

Grinning, I tapped his forearm twice, then pointed at the chair, waiting until his gaze followed. “Back to your corner. We’ve got studying to do. This is still my business hour.”

He growled, then peeled his body off of mine and slumped down in his chair.

I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply and stretching as I tried to clear my head.

He exhaled with a hard blast of air. “
Fuck.
”

My thoughts exactly.
I glanced up to see him scrubbing a hand down his face.

“I can’t remember what the hell we were doing with the business stuff.”

I pointed to the list. “You’d taken my notepad hostage for an explanation about men and tampons. This hot-and-bothered thing is all
your
fault.”

He chuckled, scattering the rest of the sexual tension. “Oh, right. And no,
you
were the one with the twisted thoughts and random laughter. It’s
your
fault.”

“Hey, count yourself lucky. I’d also thought about men buying hemorrhoid cream.”

He gaped, eyes going wide.

And I curled into a ball, laughing hysterically.

T
wo days later, like every other morning of late, Cade strolled into Sweet Dreams almost an hour before we opened, locked the front door I’d left unlocked just for him, and headed straight for his corner of the couch.

Only this time, for the very first time, I stood waiting.

Remaining motionless in the doorway to the kitchen, I watched him toss his black Tumi messenger bag onto the middle of the cushions while he balanced a to-go tray with two Starbucks coffee cups.

He pulled out the cups and placed them on the coffee table in front of the couch. As if sensing my presence, he slowly looked up toward me and straightened his body.

A huge smile brightened his face. “Good morning.”

I grinned, enjoying seeing him caught off guard. “Good morning.”

“Going somewhere?” He arched his brows.

I glanced down at my zipped-up jacket, then back up at him. “Yep. We’re going on a field trip. Grab your bag and coffee.”

He tilted his head, a curious expression on his face. “Okay. I’m game.”

“Chloe, we’re leaving. I’ll lock you in,” I called out.

“Got it.” Her voice was confident. Since we’d begun marketing our cupcakes together, she’d blossomed with additional outings and had pushed for more responsibilities.

The moment Cade and I stepped onto the sidewalk, the cold chill of a ten-mile-an-hour wind bit into my skin. “Shit.” I’d worn too thin of a jacket and made a firm mental note to download a weather app on my phone later.

Cade cast an apologetic glance at his bike.

“Uh-uh.” I dangled my keys.

He snatched them out of my hand. “Awesome. Been dying to drive this baby.”

I shook my head and laughed as I let him open the passenger door for me. When my legs cleared the opening, he shoved it closed.

He rounded the front of the car to the other side, scanning every square inch of her paint and chrome, eyes wide with excitement. By the time he opened the door and slid in, he vibrated like a kid about to open a birthday present. “She’s in pristine condition.”

Nodding, I ran my fingers along the edge of the dash with pride. “Granpop kept Josephine garaged, driving her only on rare occasions.”

With reverent care, he slid the key into the ignition and pressed his feet on the brake and clutch. He closed his eyes and turned the key, grinning as the bass engine roared to life.

“Gorgeous.” He glanced at me sideways. “The car is nice too.”

I shoved his shoulder, but a blush heated my cheeks, anyway. He knew how to disarm me in an instant.

“So where to, Maestro?”

“Lila’s. On Aster.” I wanted him to meet my new friend and hoped he’d like her as much as I did.

He nodded. “The restaurant owner you befriended.”

“Yep. She’s good people. So’s her brother, Willard. I’ve hung out at her restaurant a couple of times, after her lunch rush dies down.”

“What do you talk about?”

“Mostly small-business obstacles and how to overcome them. Sometimes we talk about other shop owners in the vicinity, or whispers of business openings or closings. She loves to gossip.”

He glanced at me, pulling into her small parking lot. “Better watch what you share, then.”

“I already thought about that. Because I’m such a private person, I let her do most of the talking. I’d rather be the observer, anyway.”

Although the drive took only a few minutes, I bounced with excitement. I couldn’t wait to show him what I’d done. Actually, what
we’d
done, since it was the result of our business-planning sessions, even though he had no knowledge of it.

We wound along the cobblestone path leading from the parking lot. Tulips that had been sprouting along the mulched border almost four weeks ago were now blooming in bold yellows and vivid reds and purples in the dappled shade of a giant walnut tree on the edge of her property.

By the time we reached the front porch, Lila herself greeted us, pushing open the door. “Hannah!” She strode forward and gave me a huge hug.