Kiss Me That Way: A Cottonbloom Novel (22 page)

“Evening,” Cade offered with the carefulness of baiting a trap.

“It was you, wasn’t it? I saw you that night.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, I’m afraid.”

“You called the cops to pick me up.”

“Not me, sir. And where did you say you saw me?”

The man’s shoulders dropped and some of the animosity slipped off his face. “You don’t remember me, do you,
boy
?”

Ignoring the blatant jab, he studied the man again. Cade had tried to keep a low profile in Cottonbloom during his youth, needing to stay out of trouble in order to keep Tally and Sawyer with him, but he’d obviously pissed this man off at some point.

The frisson of recognition coursing through Cade was like sticking his finger in an electrical socket. “Sam Landry. Thought you’d married and moved on to Georgia. When did you crawl back to town?” Fury that should have diminished over the past decade crackled between them.

Once the man had married and left Cottonbloom, Cade had stopped keeping tabs on him. His tuxedo was stylish and he’d been invited, so his life hadn’t self-destructed. Unfortunately.

“You always were a rude little swamp rat.” The ingratiating smile on Sam’s face was for appearance’s sake only.

His insult didn’t faze Cade. He’d been called much worse. “Does Monroe know you’re back?”

His lips curled in and he muttered, “Goddamn, Monroe. It was her.”

Cade’s back bowed and he took a step toward the man. “What are you talking about?”

“Monroe and I had a little chat at the Tavern the other night and then I’m pulled over by the cops? No way is that a coincidence.”

Cade had been so focused on finding Monroe that night, he hadn’t given anyone else at the Tavern a second of his attention. Now he wished he’d met up with Sam in the Tavern’s dark parking lot and not the bright lights of the Tarwaters’ mansion.

“What’d they nail you for? Drinking and driving?” Sam’s no response was answer enough. Maybe things weren’t going so well for him after all. “Whether Monroe called the cops or not, you were the one who got behind the wheel. You expect people to look the other way?”

“I’m on the Cottonbloom city council. Got elected in the spring.” He laid the fact down as if it were a get out of jail free card in Monopoly. Cade wouldn’t be surprised if Sam made a run for Cottonbloom mayor next election cycle. The man possessed a snake-like charm and was still nice looking and trim. To many people, nothing mattered but the packaging.

How could Monroe face the man day in and day out? “I’ve not forgotten what you tried to do to Monroe years ago.”

“You took the word of a young, impressionable girl who had a crush on me. Her feelings got hurt when I told her I loved her mama. If you’d given me the chance to—”

“You’ve told yourself that lie enough times, you actually believe it, don’t you?”

“It’s the truth.” Sam’s dark eyes flashed with uncertainty before blanking. “She got mad and ran off.”

“Maybe she’s come to terms with what you tried to do. I, however, don’t have such a forgiving nature. You’re hiding a bushel of trouble somewhere. Maybe I’ll go looking.”

“Are you threatening me?” The shocked wonder in the man’s voice made him think not many people crossed Sam Landry.

“Yep. I believe I am.” At that, Cade ambled off with a smile on his face. It never hurt to leave an enemy off-balance. Having ammunition at the ready in case he did something to hurt Monroe would be smart. Cade would make some calls. As arrogant as Sam seemed, he wouldn’t have hidden his troubles too deep.

Monroe was still hobnobbing with Andrew Tarwater as her guide. After his confrontation with Sam Landry, old memories lingered in his mind like rotting fish. He stepped through the French doors and took deep breaths. The heat and humidity of the day had fallen into a cool, comfortable night.

His body thrummed with pent-up frustration. He might be in the most expensive clothes in the room and have signed the biggest check, but ’Sips like the Tarwaters would never see him as more than a swamp rat. Andrew led Monroe back onto the dance floor. Insecurities Cade thought long buried reared up.

Chapter Sixteen

Tension kept Monroe’s body stiff in Andrew’s arms as he shuffled her to the beat of the music. She enjoyed dancing, but not this kind. She enjoyed rocking out in her kitchen and singing into a spatula while she cooked. Dozens of sets of eyes bored into them. While Andrew seemed unfazed, every vein in her body felt like it had been shot with quick-hardening cement.

The interminable song ended, and she took a step backward, trying to escape Andrew’s embrace. She bumped into Andrew’s father, who’d been coerced onto the dance floor with his wife, looking about as happy as a cow headed to the butcher.

Monroe mumbled an, “I’m sorry,” and pointed her feet toward her hiding place behind the pillar. She prayed Cade would be waiting. Mrs. Tarwater took her wrist.

“Darling, let’s switch. I’ll dance with my son and you dance with Bill.”

Jean Tarwater wasn’t a woman who accepted
no
as an answer. It’s what made her a force for good and bad in the community. A piranha in the courtroom, Bill Tarwater sighed complacently, took Monroe’s hand, and pulled her into a dancing stance. Her surprise at his easy acquiescence made her a pliable partner. Several other couples joined them. A sense of claustrophobia made her heart beat too fast.

Andrew caught her gaze and grinned over his mother’s head. Monroe was a fraud. He believed he had a chance with her, but another man had set up camp in her head … and heart. Knowing Cade was somewhere watching her made this exponentially worse.

“My wife likes you. I can’t say that she’s ever felt that way about one of Andrew’s girlfriends before.” Even at a near whisper, Mr. Tarwater’s voice held a hint of courtroom resonance.

She stutter-stepped. “Andrew and I are not dating.”

He tensed, slowing their swaying movements, the hand at her back gesturing to the side. “Why did he and Jean plan all this then?”

“I assume because they wanted to support the expansion of my girls at risk group. It’s very much appreciated by me and all the girls.” The polite, stiff thanks was all she had to offer.

The incredulous glance he aimed in her direction made her feel a little too much like the accused on cross-examination. “My son is very taken with you. You’re all I hear about at the office.”

Andrew was polite and knowledgeable about the world. He was handsome and well-off. But he had never entered uninvited into her dreams at night. He had never made her feel the least bit like losing control.

“Your son is a fine man,” she said in as honest and heartfelt a voice as she could muster.

“An evasion.” Bill Tarwater chuckled, although little humor penetrated the sound. “A word of advice, Monroe?”

Not sure she wanted to hear, she nodded anyway.

“Men like Cade Fournette are users. He’s been beaten down too many times and tries too hard to prove he belongs with people like us. He doesn’t belong and never will. If you take up with him, my son won’t be waiting.”

Anger burned away the layers of polite lessons. She had the urge to flip him on his back in the middle of the dance floor. What would Jean Tarwater think of her then?

Forcing her chin up and her eyes to meet his, Monroe stopped the shuffling dance and shook her arms free of him. “I’m nothing like you. Cade Fournette has nothing to prove, least of all to anyone here.”

Not caring whether it was rude, she walked away and pushed through the crowd to their pillar. No sign of Cade. Had he given up on her and left? Tears stung. Alone. She needed to be alone. She continued on to the bathroom. Several chatting women were knotted in the hallway and had her changing course. The last thing she wanted to do was engage in a round of gossip.

The back wing of the house was dark and several degrees cooler than the body-jammed great room. Tiptoeing and feeling like an interloper even though no one had closed off the area, she pushed the door to a guest bedroom open and stepped from hardwood onto plush carpet. The room had the unused smell of mothballs and cleaner.

Air chugged from the vents. Hair tickled her nape and the air stirred against the bare skin along her front and back. A shiver passed through her, her nipples reacting to the sudden coolness.

“Tired of dancing?” Cade’s deep voice startled her around. He’d propped his shoulder against the doorframe, his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. He was lit from behind, his face a blank, dark space.

She couldn’t determine from his flat voice whether he was upset or angry. With Bill Tarwater’s comments fresh and painful, she flew at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, her heels bringing her within an inch of his mouth. Although he hadn’t heard the vitriol, she needed to comfort him anyway.

“Wha—”

Her lips silenced the rest of his question. The champagne on his tongue was almost as intoxicating as his scent. The music from the great room drifted, muted and unrecognizable. As if slow dancing, he wrapped his arms around her and turned them enough so he could close the door, leaving them in silence, except for the ticking of a clock.

His hands roamed her bare back, slipping inside of her dress to brush the top curves of her buttocks. She pushed him backward against the wall. Infinitely stronger than her, he could have held his ground or taken charge at any point, but the fact that he let her lead only made her want him more. She was done listening to logic, done fighting her hunger for him. She wanted him.

Cupping her cheeks, he pulled his lips from hers. “And again you do the unexpected.”

“Unwanted?” she whispered.

“Does it look like I’m protesting?” His breath puffed against her cheek before he kissed her once more, slipping his tongue alongside hers, before his mouth retreated once more. She tipped into him seeking more. He took her weight, bracing his legs farther apart, but evaded her mouth.

“I watched you dancing with Tarwater. What are you playing at? Is he the man you want to be seen with and I’m the one you’re keeping for the dark?” A thread of emotion in his voice tied itself around her heart and bound her. Was he jealous? Hurt? Angry?

“Do you think I’m using you?” She pushed off his chest.

“You know I’m not staying long.”

She did know. She just didn’t want to think about the day he would walk away from Cottonbloom. And from her. “What are you getting at?”

“I think you get something from him you can’t get from me and vice versa. He has clout in this town, but I’m the man that you want in the dark and in your bed, aren’t I?”

“If you think all I care about is my standing in this town, why did you follow me?”

“Because I want you. That’s why I came.” Belligerence instead of seduction beat at his words. Underneath was a boy who did care what Cottonbloom thought of him. He hadn’t always been the poor swamp rat sneaking around in the dark.

“All you want is sex?”

“If that’s what you’re offering.” His voice softened, and he squeezed her hips and fit them together. “I can be rough and dirty and a little bit dangerous if that’s how you want me.”

Arousal flared even as the gentleness of his touch belied his coarse words. He skimmed his good hand from her hip to settle under her breast, his thumb running up and down the exposed skin in between. Her nipple puckered, begging for his touch.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?”

Her body shifted toward his instinctively, seeking to anchor itself to him, needing to draw from his heat and strength. “Th-that’s not what I want.” Before the words were even out, she knew they were untrue, or at least a partial truth. Sex wasn’t
all
she wanted. But she did want it.

“Don’t lie to yourself or me.” He dropped his lips to the shell of her ear and nuzzled. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket. “I could take you right here, right now, with the Tarwaters and all of crazy Cottonbloom a few rooms away. And I’d make it good, Monroe. I’d make your body sing. I’d make you beg before giving you everything you need. Then, you could walk back out into that damn party like nothing happened. No one would know the things you want to do in the dark with a poor, dirty boy from Louisiana.”

Her body sang a song of longing and need. She wanted to stay in the dark with him the rest of the night, but there was something even more important she needed to do. With the effort of separating strong magnets, she pried her body from his, opened the door, and took him by the wrist.

“Come with me.” Reality in the form of a crooning Michael Bublé song and the murmur of laughter-punctuated conversation drifted closer.

“What are you doing?” An edge of panic replaced his dark sexual tease. She’d thrown him off-balance. Good. Time for her to return the favor.

She led him back into the great room. The song changed to an eighties ballad she occasionally heard on the classic rock station and in old movies. While it wouldn’t have been her statement song of choice, it would have to do.

She stopped at the edge of where a handful of couples swayed like they were reliving their high-school prom.

“You want to dance with me?” Incredulity but also a sense of wonder lilted his question. “In front of the Tarwaters and all of Cottonbloom, Mississippi?”

She answered by slipping her hand in his and squeezing. As if they had made a pact to jump at the same time, they moved forward on the same beat of music. She turned toward him, sliding her hands up the lapels of his tuxedo to link around his neck.

He tightened his arm around her waist and brought them closer than she’d danced with Andrew. “You sure you know what you’re doing?” He splayed his fingers on her back, tucking them under the edge of her dress. She felt branded.

“I have no idea what we’re doing; do you?”

His mouth tightened before he laughed softly and skimmed his smooth chin along her temple. “Not a clue.”

Whispers and side-eye glances came from all directions. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t uncomfortable, but not because she was ashamed of Cade.

The song ended, and they stopped swaying yet stayed interlocked. The next song was faster paced, leaving them in limbo.