Perfect Sense (Perfect Series Book 1) (22 page)

He smiles. “Those aren’t mine. What you’re looking at was my Mom’s record collection. When I moved to California, I left her collection here where it belongs and I started my own.”

I pull out a Rolling Stones album and smile back at him. “She had good taste.”

“Good taste runs in the family,” he says, running his gaze up my legs, stopping at my chest then meeting my eyes.

I blush and turn my back to him, admiring the vintage suitcase record player sitting on a side table. Chills dance up my spine as I hear the rumbles of Cash’s voice. “That was my Mom’s first record player. The other one I have of hers, I keep with me in Bexley. It is a little piece of her I take with me, wherever I go. She brought us up on music. We listened to all the greats.”

I like the warmth in this place and the softness I see in Cash when he’s standing in it. Suddenly I no longer see him as shallow and self-centered. He emits a different glow that causes my heart to flutter around in my chest. I like this side of him.

“This place is not what I expected or where I expected you would whisk me off to for the weekend. Not from you. But this…” I say in an almost whisper. “I absolutely love it.”

I bite my bottom lip as he moves toward me and I drink him in. His hair is a ruffled mess and his jaw sports the shadow of a day’s missed shave. My thoughts immediately focus on how much I’d love to run my tongue over his lips and fist my hands in his hair.

He leans in, stopping inches away from my lips and whispers. “Let me put one of my favorites on for you.” He pulls the record slowly from my hands and every single inch of my body trembles, aware of how close in proximity his body is to mine.

Within seconds, the Rolling Stone’s,
Wild Horses
is playing and I am wrapped in Cash’s arms as he sways us from side to side. His hands rest on my lower back, and I slide my hands up his arms, resting them on his shoulders. Without the extra height from my usual killer heels, I am much lower than usual to his six foot four-inch frame. He leans down until the warmth of his breath tickles my ear and neck. “I love this song,” he says against my hair.

I smile shyly at him, trying to keep my emotions under wraps. My feelings for him are moving quicker than my heart can handle. His scent envelops me and I let out a trembling breath, knowing that one kiss from his lips and I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from letting him have me right here on that sofa.

“You feel amazing in my arms,” he whispers.

With those words I look up at him. As the lyrics fill the heated air between us, I can see the feelings he has for me in his eyes. He pulls me tighter against his chest and lets out a satisfied sigh, nuzzling his chin against the top of my head.

We sway in silence until the song ends and skips to the next. Finally, I let my arms fall to the side. I shouldn’t have let myself become lost in his arms only hours into our weekend. So much for not letting my emotions get the better of me. I bend down and grab my luggage, turning away and motion over to the kitchen with a coy smile. “Aren’t you going to give me a tour?”

He gives me a triumphant smirk, and nods to my right. “As you can see, that’s the kitchen.”

I turn my head to the side and admire the old rustic charm of the cabinets, paired with the butcher’s block kitchen island. Pots and pans hang over it and the walls are painted an eggshell white.

I love how Cash grew up; simple and easy. Not was I was expecting, but I love it.

“Are you thirsty?” Cash is rummaging through the cupboards. He pulls out two short tumbler glasses and fills them with water from the tap. He hands me a glass of water with a smile.

“Thanks,” I reply as I take a sip.

“You okay?”

I shrug, chewing on my bottom lip for a few moments to think of my next words. “I’m just a little taken back all of this…this side of you.”

He winks. “You bring out the best in me.” His words make my chest swell. It feels the same for me and I don’t ever want that to change. I’ve never been with a man that makes me feel so desired or inspired me to want a chance at something real. He grabs my empty glass from my hands then places both of our glasses in the sink. “Come on, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

I cock an eyebrow at him. “Separate beds?”

“I’m trying this new thing. It’s called being a gentleman,” he says with a wink.

“I think that would be an impossible feat for someone of your kind,” I tease.

“I’m serious.”

I laugh once. “We’ll see about that.”

Impressed by his restraint and taken aback by his sudden change in manners, I let him grab my luggage and slide past me to walk up the staircase. He pushes open the first door on the left and when I step inside my eyes are met with yet another spectacular view. The huge seated bay window overlooks the lake and trees with an old lighthouse in the distance. The room is simple, with an old wrought iron bedframe, antique side table and lamp. A taller dresser decorated in vintage hockey stickers sits on the far right wall with a mirror hanging over top of it.

“It’s the best view in all of Thompson.” He shrugs and looks back at me letting out a deep sigh. He watches me for a moment then glances out the window, staring off into the distance. “There were a lot of good times had on that lake.” He leans back against the wall, propping one foot back behind him. “My brother, Cory, and I spent our summers swinging off an old tire swing into that water and our winters playing hockey with our buddies once it would freeze over.” He looks lost in the memory. “There were a lot of fists thrown, bloody noses and fat lips. It drove our mother crazy. And when things were getting out of control, she would come up to this window, open it up and yell across the yard at us to stop dicking around and start playing some real hockey. She loved the game, but she hated the fighting.” He lets out a sigh and turns his gaze back out the window.” She would be rolling in her grave if she knew the player I’ve become. Growing up, she was what kept me grounded. She was my biggest fan.”

“She sounds like a great mom.” I take the seat across from him, on the opposite side of the window.

He nods. “Damn right she was.”

“How long ago did she pass?” My tone is careful, worried I’m asking him to share too much information too soon.

“A year ago.” He lets out a hard breath and I remain silent for a full minute before he finally continues. “When my Mom was six years old, she was diagnosed with Leukemia. She spent the next few years of her childhood fighting cancer and she won. But when I was in the eighth grade, she was diagnosed with stage one Lymphoma. Cory and I watched her suffer and fight for her life for a whole year. It was the worst fucking year of my life, but she fought it and beat it. Then one year after the accident… just when I thought things couldn’t get any fucking worse, her Lymphoma came back. This time it was a stage four. The worst stage.” His voice turns low, his eyes filled with unshed tears. He swallows hard, gains composure and looks out the window and away from my eyes. “She finally lost the battle.”

Sympathy engulfs me as I think of a talented little boy with bright blue eyes playing hockey on that ice. I think of all the love and nurturing his mother gave him and the haunted hole in his heart from her loss. Her unconditional warmth and love fills every inch of this home. From the countless family pictures hanging on the walls, to the warm and welcoming interior, I can envision her standing at this window, silently admiring her sons playing hockey on the ice below. Tears sting my eyes.

“Don’t look at me that way.” Cash abruptly straightens, putting space between us. “Those big green eyes of yours are full of pity. I’m not looking for your sympathy. Forget I even said anything about her.”

“If anyone understands how you feel, I do.” I take a cautious step towards him and he responds by taking a step back. My heart sinks in my chest. I don’t understand him. One minute he opens up to me and the next minute he shuts me out.

“I’ll let you unpack,” he murmurs and turns his back to me, closing the door behind him.

While I’m unpacking, I watch Cash from the window walk across the yard and step into an old wooden boathouse. About fifteen minutes pass before he reappears and I’ve tucked my last sweater into the top drawer of the dresser. I scurry down the stairs, wanting to meet him outside on the porch, but by the time I step into the living room he is already standing there, smiling back at me.

“Come see my boat,” he says, opening the doors leading out onto the porch.

“I thought you weren’t trying to impress me,” I tease as I walk past him onto the deck and straight to the railing. The breeze off the lake catches my hair, and it dances around my shoulders.

“If I’d known an old StarCraft aluminum liner fishing boat was all it was going to take; I would have brought you here a long time ago.” Cash walks up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. “God. You look so sexy when your hair blows in the wind like that.”

I turn around, letting him cage me against the railing. If I shift even an inch, my entire body will brush up against him. Before I have to decide, Cash moves closer, and the warmth from him makes me want to never leave this porch. His eyes meet mine, and he smiles—a slow sexy smile that doesn’t help my weak knees.

“Fuck, Mittens, I told you I planned on being a gentleman this weekend. But it’s becoming next to impossible. Especially with you looking at me like that.” He stokes my hip. “I’m dying to kiss you.” He brushes his finger over my lips. “Touch you.” He slips his hand up the back of my shirt. “Hear you scream my name.” His other hand cradles my cheek, his lips hovering over mine.

“Then what are you waiting for?” I ask.

He pushes me against the railing and covers my mouth with his. I open to him with one probe from his demanding tongue. Both his hands find my hips and he hoists me up on top of the railing, shifting me until his throbbing mass settles between my open thighs. His mouth tastes so good. His kiss takes my breath away.

His mouth leaves mine and I close my eyes, tilting my head back and reveling in the tiny kisses he presses along my neck. I fist my hands though his hair and he moves slowly, past my collar bone and along my shoulder. When I open my eyes, I see a blonde girl about my age with her hair pulled into a low ponytail walking up the porch steps with a guy with short, dark hair. Cash turns around to face the couple approaching us as I slide down from the railing and stand behind him. Their eyes are on us. Not moving or shifting. A small smile is on her lips, but his expression as he watches Cash looks like he’s seen a ghost.

Cash takes a step towards them. “Anna? Jake?”

“Shit, Brooks. I told Anna I saw a limo driving through town.” He cautiously approaches Cash. “God it’s been a while, eh? What are you doing here?”

Cash looks back at me, his eyes apologetic. For what, I am not quite sure. “Quinn, meet Jake and his twin sister, Anna. Jake, Anna, this is Quinn, the Marketing Coordinator for the Bruisers. I brought her here for the weekend to give her a little taste of Newfie life.”

Anna takes a step forward and holds out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

I slip my hand into hers and shake it. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“We’re old friends of Cash, you know, before he became all famous,” Jake teases, wiggling his eyebrows at him.

“It’s good to see you, man.” Cash lets out a nervous sigh and runs his hand through his hair. “You too, Anna.”

“I’m sorry we just dropped by like this, but we had to see if it was you. We haven’t seen you since Danny’s grandmother’s funeral,” Anna says in a concerned tone. Cash shifts uncomfortably and clears his throat. An awkward beat of silence descends before Anna asks. “So…how long are you two planning on staying in Paradise?”

“Till Sunday.” Cash nods over to his boat. “We were about to take a spin on the lake, cast some rods and hopefully catch some fish.”

“Do you have any plans tomorrow night?” Jake asks, oblivious to Cash’s attempted dismissal.

“Actually, we were going to—”

“You should come by Mike’s place,” Jake says, cutting Cash off mid-sentence. “Everyone would love to see you. He’s throwing one of his epic parties.”

“Who’s Mike?” I ask, intrigued.

“Another old friend,” Cash leans back against the deck, annoyed. “Do you really think that me going to Mike’s is a good idea? Will Billy be there?”

“Probably. They are brothers.” Jake inhales before blowing air out long and slow. “It’s been three years, Cash. Come by, please. Mike will want to see you.”

“I’d like to go,” I pipe up, seeing Cash’s jaw tick.

“I like this girl already,” Jake says, and a smile spreads across his face in an approving way.

“We can pick you guys up, if you want to come with us.” Anna shifts her eyes between me and Cash with a cute and convincing smile on her face. “Come on, Cash. We never ever see you anymore.”

Cash shrugs with a reluctant nod.

Anna squeals and gives him a hug. He stiffens at her embrace. “Relax, Anna, it’s just a party.” Letting out an awkward chuckle, he pushes her back a fraction.

“I know, but it’s nice to have you back.” She smiles, then looks over at me and gives me a wink. “And it’s nice to see you with someone who isn’t—”