Forbidden, Tempted Series (Book 1) (29 page)

A memory came to her then, one she hadn’t thought of in over five years. Her and her mother walking along the lake. The sun was beginning to set and the sky was ablaze like someone had taken a torch to it. A cloud had parted, revealing a flock of white geese zooming in for the water. They landed in formation, and the sight had caused Flint’s twelve-year-old heart to sigh.

Her mom had looked at her and said, “Take a mental picture, Flinty. You’ll never see that again.”

That’s how this felt. In this moment, in his arms, while the rest of the circus was asleep and the sun was just beginning to rise. They were surrounded by people, creatures, humanity, but in a tiny sphere of time, it was just the two of them. Hanging on for dear life.

His fingers dug into her waist, and she rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart, and as she did, she snapped her eyes shut, taking that mental picture and saving it for a rainy day.

All too soon, he was pulling back. “I’ll take you to school.”

His eyes were blue again and she couldn’t help but smile. “What time is it?”

“Breakfast wagon is up, if you’re hungry.”

She nodded. “Yeah, let me get dressed first. I’ve got to find my dad too.”

As she turned to leave, he grabbed her hand. His throat worked, as if words were trapped in there. Finally he nodded and released her.

It was hard to walk away.

Ten minutes later, she’d brushed her teeth, pulled her hair back in a ponytail, and changed into a pale pink cardigan sweater with jeans. She’d half expected him to bail, because that’s what he always did. As if showing a softer side was a sin for him, he’d get all hard and gruff and idiotic afterward.

She was grabbing her bag when Abel rubbed his bleary eyes and sat up. Pieces of his hair stuck up in every direction. Flint covered her mouth to still her laugh. He looked sort of adorable in the morning.

“Flint?” He glanced first at her, then at the bed where the two girls were still snoring.

“Getting breakfast.”

He started to get up. “Wait for me, I’ll come.”

She bit her lip. “Actually, Cain is waiting...”

Abel’s face screwed up. “Cain?” he hissed, trying to keep his voice down.

“Hmm... what’s up?” Janet whispered groggily, then kicked out at Rhiannon, who’d somehow maneuvered Janet to the smallest corner of the bed. “Move, you slug.”

Rhiannon moaned and rolled over.

“Cain?” Abel whispered again with furrowed brows. “Since when?”

She shrugged. “I’ve got to find my dad, Abel. See you at school?”

Scowling, he shoved his hand through his hair. “Yeah.”

It broke her heart how glum he sounded. Almost jealous.

Which, it couldn’t possibly be. It was Abel. Her friend. He knew that, right?

He turned his back on her as she walked out, muttering under his breath. Feeling like the world’s worst friend, she almost turned back and told him never mind. But then Cain was there and looking at her in a way she’d never seen him do before, and things like
I’m sorry, I suck
flew out the window.

He wasn’t touching her, but something felt different between them. Less hostile maybe. She didn’t know. All she knew was that it might be chilly, but she’d never felt so warm.

And jeez was that corny.

He’d changed, taken the scruffy sweater and jeans off, replacing them with another one of his all-black ensembles.

“Gothed out again, huh? You angsting or what?”

His lips twitched. “What?”

She shrugged. “Just that I notice when you’re all in black you’re generally mad at me. Or ignoring me, or... I don’t know. Pick your poison.”

He stopped. A stiff breeze laden with the buttery scent of eggs, fatty bacon, and coffee teased her nose. Her stomach curled in on itself.

“Princess, believe it or not, I do more than just sit around and mope for you.”

And there it went again.

Her happy buzz.

She narrowed her eyes. “Why, why do I ever expect you to act nice, for once?”

“What?” He looked baffled.

“Jeez, I was just trying to tease you. Do you even have a clue what that means? It means, laugh a little. Have a ha-ha —”

Somehow she was back in his arms and he was staring down at her, hunger glinting in his eyes. And she didn’t think it was for food.

Her eyes widened and she moistened her lips, a completely involuntary reaction since she had no desire for him to actually kiss her while he was so angry with her.

“What are you doing?” Was that her voice? All airy and breathy?

His arms were like strong bands, holding her in place against the firmness of his chest and thighs. Every part of her that touched him was zinging with currents of fire and heat.

Cain’s lips were so close to hers. If she were brave, she’d lean up and kiss him.

“I can laugh.”

“I don’t think you can. I don’t think you really know how.”

He narrowed his eyes and she noticed they were a vivid cobalt blue, deep and pure as an artic stream.

Then he stepped back and she was breathing hard. His smile was smug.

Gulping, hating her pale skin and the fact that she was blazing like a Christmas tree, she lifted her chin. “I’ve got to see my dad.”

Cain pointed to the breakfast wagon. “He’s in there.”

“I knew that.” She thinned her lips, pushing past him, ears flaming at the sound of his snickering.

The second she opened the door, the smells blasted her full force. Her stomach twisted with a cramp so fierce she groaned.

“Flinty!” Her dad’s voice carried over the rhythmic murmurs of a few of the performers. Most had their heads down, nursing a cup of coffee. She was surprised to find any of them awake actually.

She followed the sound of his voice, a large smile on her face until she caught sight of Katy sitting next to him.

Flint had to force herself to not to stop and turn around. Cain had touched the small of her back and it was weird, but it was almost as if he could sense her indecision. She flashed him a brief glance, then leaned over and kissed her father’s whisker-roughened cheek.

He had bags under his eyes, and his hair was messy and sweaty, but apart from that, he seemed happy.

“Hello, Flint.” Katy flashed a white smile, her gaze landing on Cain’s.

And for just a second, Flint could swear she saw hate gleaming in the woman’s moss-green eyes. But it’d happened so fast, and by the time she turned back to Katy, her gaze was bright and welcoming.

“You just finishing work?” she asked her father.

“Mmm.” He nodded.

She looked between them. They were sitting close, so close she knew their knees were touching underneath the table. Katy’s sparkly catsuit highlighted her “assets.”

“Where’d you sleep last night?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee and eying Cain hard.

“In Abel’s trailer with”—she rushed to say the next bit, seeing him inhale and knowing he was ready to light into her for staying in a boy’s room alone—“two other girls.”

Ironic that on the one hand he seemed to give her the green light to hook up with a boy, until he actually knew the boy in question. Then suddenly it was verboten. Not that she had any intentions of shagging with anyone, anyway.

Katy grinned. “Well, that sounds naughty.”

Her father cleared his throat, lowering his brows at Katy. “I came looking for you earlier. Layla mentioned you were studying?”

The way he said it, she knew he didn’t believe it.

“I did. I finished all my homework. Abel’s really smart and helped me a lot.”

“Hmm.” He drank from his cup.

“You’re Cain, right?” Katy piped up, looking over Flint’s shoulder.

Cain nodded. “Yes.”

“Why don’t you sit?” She gestured at the table.

As if she owned the table, or had a right to question him. Flint barely knew the woman—she was completely out of bounds.

Cain checked his watch and then nodded. “Can we get some breakfast first? I’m going to take Flint to school. If that’s all right with you,” he said, looking directly at her father.

Her heart seriously melted. Like turned into a quivering puddle in her chest.

Was he really asking her dad for permission?

And why was that so ridiculously sweet?

Her dad looked worried. Katy grabbed his arm and gave it a tender squeeze.

Turning on her heel, Flint walked to the start of the food line. A large black man wearing a hair net—which was funny considering he had none—scooped a pile of eggs, home fries, and gravy onto her plate. Flint pointed to the stack of bacon, mouth already watering thinking about it.

“You know, you don’t have to sit with us.” She leaned in, whispering low so only Cain could hear.

He smiled and it took her breath away. “You don’t like her.”

It really wasn’t a question, so she didn’t bother pretending. “That obvious?”

He pinched his fingers together. “A little.”

“Long story.”

“Tell me about it.”

She took the plate from the kitchen worker and walked over to the beverage stand. Flint noticed Cain’s plate was piled as high as hers.

“Really? You want to hear all the gory details?”

He shrugged. “Don’t have anything better to do.”

“Oh jeez, thanks.” She rolled her eyes, filled her cup with orange juice, and waited for him to do the same.

He got two glasses, and their trays looked ridiculous.

Her father’s brows nearly reached his hairline as he eyed her food when they neared the table. “Flint? You sick or something?”

She snorted and sat, Cain taking the empty seat next to her.

Normally, she’d lose her appetite having him so close. And then when he stretched his legs and his knee bumped hers and he didn’t pull back... Yeah, a little bit of torture. But the appetite was a beast that refused to be denied.

“Just hungry,” she muttered and then said a quick prayer beneath her breath. After that, she began digging into the eggs first.

They tasted better than they smelled, gooey with cheese and salted just right. She almost didn’t come up for air.

“What happened to your face, son?” her dad asked, and Flint whipped around to look at Cain.

Silly, but she’d completely forgotten about it.

“Ugh, Dad,” she whispered, blushing furiously. “What are you doing?”

Heat crept up to her ears, and she wished she’d left her hair down.

“What?” He looked at her with innocent eyes. “Don’t I have a right to ask the boy who’s taking my daughter out what’s happened to him?”

“Oh jeez, Dad.” The bacon tasted like leather when she snapped it between her teeth. “We’re not dating. It’s just a ride.”

“It’s okay.” Cain placed his hand on hers, stilling her fingers and making her heart gallop. “I had a sparring match last night. Buddy got a little rough.” He gritted out the last part and then smiled.

Flint tried to see Cain as her dad must at this point. Swollen face, cracked lip, and dressed in black. His nightmare come to life.

“Hmm,” he muttered.

Katy glanced between them and then cleared her throat.

“So, Cain, you’ve taken a shine to our Flint have you?” Katy asked.

Our Flint
? It was enough to make her want to gag. She ground her molars hard. Because if she didn’t, she’d say something she’d really regret. Her fork clattered to the plate.

“Flint.” Her father’s stern voice made her swallow her snappy retort.

Planting a hard smile on her face, Flint shook her head. “You want the truth?” she said, her voice low, aware of the other people sitting around. “It’s hard, okay. Her calling me ‘our Flint.’”

Katy grabbed her chest and glanced at Flint’s father. “I’m sorry, I was just... I’m...”

He patted her arm, giving Flint a scathing look full of disappointment, censure, and reprimand. It was worse than actually getting a tongue-lashing.

“I hardly think this is the best time or place,” he said, looking directly at Cain.

Cain, for his part, was chewing on his food but looking hard at Katy.

“Yes, Dad,” she whispered, hating more than anything how much she kept disappointing him.

Katy just looked sad, which made her feel even worse.

Why couldn’t she just like her? Everything would be so much easier for all of them.

Cain glanced at his watch. “Flint and I really should get going if we don’t want to be late.”

Her father sighed and then nodded, gesturing for Flint to come and give him another kiss on the cheek. If he still wanted a kiss, then maybe she hadn’t hurt him too bad. But his long-suffering sigh made her doubt that.

“Love you, Daddy.” And, taking a deep breath, she humbled herself, “Sorry about that, Katy. It’s just...”

She smiled. “I understand. I really do.”

And somehow it sounded genuine, which only made Flint feel worse.

Cain wrapped the pile of bacon into a napkin and then handed Flint her bag. Giving him a grateful smile, she turned and left.

The moment they were outside, she took a deep breath. “Well, that sucked.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

Flint screwed her face up. “Wasn’t that bad? What planet are you from?”

“Oh, you mean when you completely humiliated your dad in front of me?” Humor glinted in his blue depths.

Giving him the evil eye, she growled. “Oh my God, I hate you so much right now.”

He chuckled and then shook his head, getting serious. “Honestly, princess, it wasn’t that bad.”

The heat in her cheeks said otherwise. There was going to be heck to pay when she got home from school later. Flint was used to her dad always being super protective of her mother, even herself at times, but to see him like that. With Katy. It’d stung.

Staring down at her feet, lost in her woe-is-me thoughts, she didn’t see Abel until they bumped shoulders.

“Oh, Abel. Sorry,” she stuttered, suddenly remembering their weird good-bye earlier.

He was dressed in a pair of tan shorts, sneakers, and a tight baseball shirt. It was definitely not her imagination; he
was
starting to fill out. He’d looked as close to skeletal as she’d ever remembered seeing someone when she’d first arrived, and in only three months, he was bulking up.