One Funeral (No Weddings Book 2) (24 page)

He groaned. “Oh, God. Please don’t
ever
stop doing that.”

I laughed. “So what are you gonna do, now that you have your master’s?”

Shrugging, he tilted his head. “Nothing yet. I’m done with school. The education was to better my knowledge for what
I
wanted to do in life, not meet requirements for a position in some stodgy corporate firm. With Loading Zone managing itself with Ben, and Invitation Only taking a portion of my time, I’m open to any opportunities.”

Pinching my right thumb and forefinger together to release a stubborn knot, I listened, but Cade held his breath at the intense pressure.

“Breathe.” As he exhaled and inhaled deeply, I zeroed in on an idea. “Have you thought about consulting businesses? Maybe on an exclusive basis? You’re a genius at it.”

The knot finally gave way, and I slid the blade of my hand from his shoulder up to his neck. I put gentle pressure on the top of his head with my other hand, urging him to tilt it to the side.

He silently obeyed, groaning. “I hadn’t realized I was so tense.”

“It’s all the studying, hunched over that laptop for weeks.” I switched to his other shoulder, kneading into the muscle, finding different tight spots.

In the background, Cade’s dad and Ben smack-talked each other, but his dad was the worst. “You’re goin’ down, Ben. See all the solids on the table? That’s you. Your balls aren’t cooperating with your stick.”

Ben snorted. “Sounds like the story of my life.” He stalked the table, hunting his next shot.

Cade reached back with an arm and skimmed his hand absently up the back of my calf. “You know, that’s a great thought: a small-business consultant.”

“You’ve done wonders for my business, offering sound, innovative ideas.”

He shook his head. “I only teased amazing ideas out of you. You’re an excellent student. Plus, I had serious interest in seeing you succeed.”

Leaning down, I pressed my lips to the top of his ear, humming. “I knew it. You only wanted me for my cakes.”

“Damn straight I did, woman.” He turned his head, capturing my lips in a kiss.

“Eight ball, corner pocket,” Ben called out, followed by the soft clacking of balls.

Loud shouts and applause startled us, and we glanced over toward the pool table. The entire group had gathered around, clapping Ben on the back. Only the blue-striped ten ball and white cue ball remained on the field of green felt.

“I was hustled.” Mr. Michaelson narrowed his eyes at Ben, then shook his hand, chuckling.

Ben grabbed the blue chalk cube and freshened his cue tip. “Rack ’em, Cade.”

Cade turned, kissing me softly. “You’re my lucky charm, Maestro. Watch over me.” He leaned closer, whispering into my ear, “Ben really is a hustler.”

I laughed, kissing him again before he went toward the table. “He’s not the only man here with slick moves.”

Cade grabbed the rack off the wall, and the two of them walked around the table, pulling balls out of the pockets and tossing them on the felt while Cade corralled them into the triangle. Lifting the rack off the setup, Cade stared at the balls to make certain they stayed motionless. Then he hung the triangle while Ben lined up the cue ball, readying for the break.

In fluid motion, faster than my eyes could follow, Ben sunk a solid and a stripe on the break. He surveyed the table for a moment, then called out, “Solids.” Without skipping a beat, he walked to the far side, lined up another shot, and sunk a second solid.

Cade grinned. “Nice shot. Think you can keep it up?”

I smirked, my mind guttering the question. But unsure in the mixed company of his family and friends, I kept my lips zipped.

Ben simply glanced at Cade, then walked the table, lining up another shot. He sank a third solid as his silent reply.

Cade looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. Then he dropped a deadpan look at me. “You’re sending me lucky vibes, right?”

I laughed, blowing him kisses with both hands. “All the luck I’ve got.”

Ben lined up a fourth shot, requiring a far bank. Either his streak ran out or my luck kicked in, because the angle was off. He not only missed the pocket, but the cue ball rested perfectly as a dead-easy lineup for Cade’s first shot.

Cade glanced up at me, mouthing “thank you” as he approached the table. I focused on him while he lined up a first attempt, sending encouraging vibes.

“Looks like you are lucky for my son.”

Startled at the deep voice that snuck up on me, I glanced at his dad. My heart jumped into my throat at being cornered while everyone else was preoccupied. Cade didn’t talk about his dad much. And everything he’d ever mentioned had implied the man was all business.

Nervous, I smiled at him. “I hope to bring him plenty of luck.”

“So, young lady, what are your intentions with my son?”

My eyes widened, and I swallowed. Was he serious or joking? And is clarifying that something I should do with the father of my new boyfriend? Or would he judge me? My pulse kicked up a few notches.

I looked toward Cade, but he was busy, focusing on yet another shot.

The pressure from Mr. Michaelson and wrestling with feeling claustrophobic got the better of me, and I suddenly needed to get some fresh air.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Michaelson. Would you excuse me for a minute?” I bolted toward the stairs without waiting for his reply.

I felt like an idiot for only a split second, because I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs to breathe, let alone think properly to have a decent conversation. I rushed up the stairs and flew into the safe haven of Cade’s beloved kitchen, taking in a full breath while striding toward their dining table. I braced my arms on the back of a chair and stared out into the yard. I calmed by degrees while watching the wind rustle the leaves of the mature trees outside.

As oxygen flowed more freely into my lungs, someone approached from the stairwell.

“You okay, Maestro?” The concern in his rich baritone voice calmed me further.

He embraced me from behind, then turned me around. My vision blurred, moisture welling in my eyes.

Unable to speak, I shook my head, dropping my forehead onto his chest. The dam burst and tears flowed down my cheeks and onto his shirt.

“Hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” He tightened his arms.

We stood there for a while. Me silently crying. Cade holding me. But he let me guide the way, being a supportive pillar, even when he had no idea the cause of my distress.

Finally, I found solace in the comfort of his arms, and the tears stopped flowing. I pulled back from him, imagining streaks of mascara tracking down my cheeks. My lips curved into a weak smile. “Bet I look like a wreck.”

He only tilted his head, an adoring look on his face. “You’re gorgeous. Besides, I hear raccoon eyes are all the rage.” He lifted the untucked bottom of his white dress shirt and used a corner to wipe my cheeks and under my eyes.

I sniffed. “Sorry. Your dad must think I’m a total moron.”

He shook his head. “No. He’s the moron. He feels awful and said he was only teasing with the ‘what are your intentions with my son’ act.”

Closing my eyes, I swallowed hard. “I freaked out.”

“Do you know why? Help me understand, so I can help you.”

Shrugging, I shook my head. “When your dad asked me that question, I was caught off guard, that’s all. Then I couldn’t breathe and panicked, running away.”

He smirked. “Hey, at least you didn’t grab a taxi and abandon me at the curb. I only had to come get you in my kitchen. We’re making progress.”

I nodded, remembering my near meltdown at McGinty’s months ago after my ex had surprised me. I’d fled, needing an escape from everything, including Cade. I drew in a deep breath. “I need to apologize to your dad.”

“Yeah, maybe. Bringing him up to speed might stop the binge drinking you just sparked.”

My eyes widened. “Oh, shit. Really?”

“No, Maestro. I’m kidding. And my dad’s joking bark is worse than his bite.”

I stared at his chest. “I misinterpreted your dad’s joke and panicked unnecessarily. When your dad surprised me, my mild claustrophobia intensified. It felt like everything was closing in around me.”

“Ummm, you weren’t claustrophobic in the church supply closet.”

Blinking, I gaped up at him. “Your hands and mouth were all over me.”

“Actually, your nipple was in my mouth.”

I snorted. “What, like I tripped, and it landed between your teeth? Is that your story?”

The corners of his lips twitched, but he fought the smile. “No, I’m saying whenever you panic, you should stick your nipple in my mouth.”

I rolled my eyes. “You would say that.”

“Got you out of your head in the closet, didn’t it?”

Uncertain of where he was going with this, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I am
not
sticking my nipple in your mouth down in the basement.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned it sideways, typing away with his thumbs.

“What are you doing?”

He glanced up. “Closets are acceptable nipple-sucking places, yes?”

I laughed. “Yes. Closets, yes. Basements, no.”

Nodding, he typed a few seconds more. “I made a note to have a walk-in closet installed in the basement next week.”

Trying not to smile, I slipped my hand into his and tugged him out of his kitchen.

“Where are we going?”

“
We
are going back down into your basement.
I
will be apologizing to your dad.”

He grinned. “While
I’m
scoping out potential closet locations.”

A
fter everyone left the graduation party, including his dad, who was very gracious and understanding with my heartfelt apology, Cade pulled me out onto his back deck. In all the months I’d been coming over, we’d never been there. All I’d ever seen was darkness through the windows while we ate dinner.

Tonight, we wandered out into the darkness. He led me by the hand down stairs with no railing into a sizable yard. Large trees stretched above us, shadowy forms against the swath of stars glittering overhead. Thin solar lights cast a faint bluish-white glow along a broken stepping-stone path.

“This is one area I still need to remodel. It’s a mess.”

I remembered he’d said something about how he’d bought his house and refurbished it, creating that gorgeous gourmet kitchen I loved. “I don’t know. The space has potential.”

Stopping in the center of the grass, he pulled me into his arms. “We have another event coming up.”

I sighed, enjoying his solid warmth around me. “Ah, yes. That’s right.”

He nodded. “Kristen and I have been emailing back and forth about it for the last few days. It’s two weeks from tonight and has an enormous cake project. You up for the task?”

Laughing, I nodded. “You know I live and die for cakes. A challenge to boot? Bring it on.”

His lips brushed against my forehead, placing a tender kiss there. “Good. I want you to take your time and enjoy this one.”

I purred, leaning into him. “Oh? What’s the theme?”

He shifted, dropping his head down, burrowing his mouth past my hair until his lips pressed against my ear. I shivered.

His words were the slightest whisper. “The Dragon Boat Festival.”

I jumped back, breaking contact, bouncing and squealing with excitement. “Really? I get to make my dragon cake?” That first day Cade had come to Sweet Dreams, I’d been practicing making sections of my dream creation, experimenting with the shape, perfecting the look of the scales.

He barked out a laugh. “Yes, really. You finally get to create your dragon, Maestro.”

Even in the darkness, I saw amusement and joy sparkling in his eyes. It seemed to reflect the fireworks shooting off in my head.

T
he next two weeks were amazing. Activity at Sweet Dreams grew busier than ever with school out and shoppers prowling. Backdoor business from restaurants and resorts was booming too, the beginning of summer bringing in a tidal wave of demand for cakes and cupcakes to supply parties and events. Loyal customers also began placing larger orders, needing to regularly satisfy their sweet tooth with gourmet treats.

Cade had been wonderful. He’d dialed the sexual banter way down, but his romantic courting escalated in incremental levels each day. And the gestures and gifts were unlike any I’d ever imagined.