“How did he hurt her? I mean, it must have been really bad if she kept you hidden from him for all those years.”
“My father had a double life. He was married when he started dating my mother. She was a clerk at a law firm owned by one of my father’s attorneys. That’s how they met. He lived in Maryland, but whenever he went into D.C. for business, they’d meet up. It was convenient–for him at least. My mom was in the city and his wife was nestled comfortably in his mansion in Highland, Maryland. Once my mother found out the truth, she ended it. But then she found out that she was pregnant.”
“Oh, gosh! I can’t even imagine.” Cadence shook her head in disbelief. “What did she do?”
“She never told him. My father had been clear he never wanted kids, so she decided to raise me on her own. And she did, until she got sick with breast cancer. Stage four. She tried to be optimistic about her chances, but it didn’t look good. So, she went to my father with the truth about me. At the time, he was in between wives. I’ll never understand why, but their affair started back up. My mom once told me it was because she never stopped loving him despite the way he had betrayed her. It was all fairytale bullshit as far as I’m concerned.”
“Sounds a little romantic to me,” she said wistfully.
“No. There was nothing romantic about it at all,” I snapped a little too harshly. When I spoke again, I tried to adopt a softer tone. “When she finally introduced me to him, he seemed accepting. Even kind. But then my mom’s cancer took a turn for the worse. The doctors upped her chemo. She was sick all the time. Frail. I watched her slowly waste away. During all of it, my father was nowhere to be found. That’s not love or romance.”
I squeezed my eyes shut tight for a moment, trying to block out images of my mother in a hospital bed. I’d never forget her tired eyes, filled with so much sadness as she held my small hand and tried to assure me that everything would be alright. All those dead places inside me began to flicker. The regret, the remorse, and every old feeling I tried to keep locked down threatened to unleash all at once.
“I’m sorry, Fitz.”
Grief resonated in her voice, and I fought to ignore it.
“It is what it is. After she died, he never even came to the funeral. Not being there for her was his loss. My mother was an amazing woman.” I shrugged, taking on a tone of aloofness as if talking about all of this didn’t bother me. “So, that’s four questions. What else do you have for me?”
She blinked, and I could tell she was surprised by the coolness in my voice. I just wished she’d ask me something easy like what was my favorite color or some other nonsense. Talking about my mother’s death stirred up an ache that I spent years trying to bury. This shit was too deep.
“How did you come to live with your father?”
I closed my eyes again, knowing I should never have expected mundane questions from someone like Cadence. She wasn’t built that way. I sighed and continued on.
“I stayed with a friend of my mom’s until the reading of the will. It stated Michael Quinn, my biological father, was to assume sole custody of me. Not wanting to risk the public embarrassment of rejecting his own son, my father took me in. However, he was no longer the nice man I met on a few occasions. He was a cruel asshole. Still is. A few months after I moved in with him, he married wife number two. The rest, as they say, is history–even if it is bad fucking history.”
She nodded, sympathy and understanding prevalent in every line of her expression, but I could also see pity in her eyes. That was the last thing I wanted. I tore my gaze from hers and stared out over the water. The sun had completely set, leaving faint hints of purple to blend with the dark night sky.
Cadence moved to sit beside me and placed her hand on my chest. With a slight push, she signaled for me to lie back. Lying down next to me, she dropped her head to settle into the crook of my arm and began to trace small circles over my abdomen. Her scent was all around me–vanilla and sugar and calm. I could feel the steady beat of her heart against my side as I buried my face in her hair.
She peered up at me, and I found myself staggered by the intensity in her eyes. It felt like an eternity before she spoke.
“That was only five questions, but I think it’s enough for tonight,” she murmured softly.
I nearly scoffed. If she thought what I told her was bad, wait until she heard the rest of it. We were six weeks into the summer. That meant I only had six weeks left with her. I knew I had to tell her the truth about my future soon, but I couldn’t tonight. Just telling her the little bit I did exhausted me, and I needed all the strength I could muster when I finally did drop the mother of all bombshells.
Never in my life had I hated my father more than I did now, yet I could see no other option. As I lay there with Cadence, quietly in the darkness, a new kind of ache began to build in my chest. I felt ashamed. Stricken. It came from knowing, no matter what I did or said, I was going to lose her forever.
13
CADENCE
I always loved Saturdays, going back to when I first discovered the lake at eleven years old. Since then, I would spend every Saturday of the Summer here with Dahlia, playing fetch or going for lazy swims when the heat became too unbearable. As I grew older, it became a quiet place for me to draw or read. This particular Saturday was very much the same, yet it felt different. The Virginia summer air was thick and warm, yet comforting in a way I didn’t know it could be. Looking down the beach, I knew everything felt different because Fitz was with me.
The two of us had just finished an exhausting game of Frisbee, followed by a quick swim to cool off. Now I was relaxing in my bikini on the dock, sketchbook in hand, while Fitz tossed a stick into the lake for Dahlia. The sight of the two of them brought a smile to my lips.
Positioning myself to face the thick forest of trees, I began to sketch the horizon. Using broad strokes, the tip of my blue pencil shaded darker areas of the sky, skipping over portions where the puffy cumulus clouds flitted by. I moved down, switching colors to begin forming the trees and the purple and yellow dahlias that lined the forest edge.
Fitz came into my line of sight, and I felt my concentration wane. Water splashed around him as he engaged in a fierce game of tug of war with my dog. A quiet laugh bubbled up inside me.
Impulsively, I decided to incorporate the two of them into my drawing. I started with Fitz first, creating the shape of an inverted egg for his head and a few simple lines to arrange the angle of his body I wanted to capture. Adding volume to the lines, I created a silhouette of him with his arm in the air like he was getting ready to throw a stick. Using the side of my pencil, I began to shade in his hairline, before switching back to the tip to start drawing the angles of his face. After a while, I didn’t even have to look at him–from his chiseled cheekbones and strong jawline to the subtle curve of his lips and sharp nose, I found I already had every angle of his face memorized.
Moving on from his face, I began to detail his body. I studied his frame as he ran down the beach with Dahlia. His abs rippled in a well-defined six pack, and his shoulder muscles bunched. The taut muscles of his calves flexed, disappearing under his swim shorts as he bounced back and forth, teasing Dahlia with the stick. I feverishly drew, trying to capture every hard line that would bring the drawing to life. He truly was an incredible work of masculine art, and I could only hope I could do him justice.
As I glanced up and down between Fitz and the drawing, his gaze caught mine, and I smiled. He returned it, seeming carefree and simply enjoying the moment. Even from here, I could tell his eyes were full of happiness and love.
Love?
Instantly, my grip tightened on the pencil and it felt as if all the air were being sucked from my lungs. Each and every time I looked at him, my heart stuttered, and I warmed. He was the guy who steadily managed to steal more and more of me with every tease, every laugh, and every smirk. Watching him there now, playing with Dahlia, completely at ease, I saw past the gorgeous exterior that I tri
ed to capture on paper. It caused a sudden realization to hit me.
I love Fitz.
I don’t know when or how or why it happened so fast, but I was absolutely certain. Shock reverberated through my system, jarring open a whirlwind of emotions. The boy who had come to my camp, full of overconfidence and swagger, was that last person I ever expected to fall for. But there was something good, yet broken behind all of that arrogant façade. I had seen it in his piercing gray eyes. I had felt it every time he touched me. I heard it in his words. There was no doubt. Fitzgerald Quinn had completely and unexpectedly stolen my heart. For the first time in my life, I was irrevocably in love.
When he began to walk back toward the dock, I quickly closed the sketchbook. I don’t know why, but I didn’t want him to see it. For some reason, the drawing made me feel inexplicably vulnerable. Until I could sort out what I was going to do with these feelings, I wanted to keep it to myself.
Fitz came to sit down beside me while Dahlia plopped down near the far edge of the dock, clearly worn out.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said, draping an arm around my shoulders. “What have you been furiously scribbling in that pad of yours?”
“The sky and the trees,” I replied. It wasn’t a lie per se. I had started out there after all.
“Can I see?”
I shook my head.
“Nope. Not right now. I’d rather you kiss me,” I told him, hoping that would be a good enough distraction.
And that it was.
He didn’t make me wait for more than half a second. His mouth immediately came down to meet mine in a slow, leisurely kiss that made my toes curl. My heart swelled, feeling as though it might burst. The fact that I now knew I loved him made the kiss seem all the more powerful.
When he pulled away, he looked at me curiously. I could swear he knew what I was thinking. I looked away awkwardly and pointed toward the cooler I packed that morning.
“Do you want anything to eat? There’s cut fruit, sandwiches, brownies, and sodas in there.”
“Brownies? Did you bake them?”
“Oh God no!” I laughed. “It’s way too hot to turn on the oven. I snagged those from the kitchen in Creator Hall. I did make the sandwiches though. There’s turkey and ham. I labeled the foil wrapping with a T or an H, so we know which one is which.”
Fitz leaned over to pop open the lid of the small handheld cooler and peeked inside, a short lock of dark hair falling over his brow. He reached up to brush it away. For some silly reason, the sight made my heart pound.
After deciding on a sandwich labeled with an H, he looked to me.
“Do you want one?”
“Um, I’ll think just nibble on some fruit for now.”
I didn’t think my stomach could handle more than that–it was too tied up in little love knots. It was kind of pathetic, actually. I needed to get a grip.
We ate quietly for a while. Fitz devoured his sandwich in no time at all while I barely swallowed more than a few bites of cut up watermelon. Eventually, he glanced in my direction, his eyes curious once again.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You just seem a little quiet, that’s all. Like you’re thinking about something.”
I wanted to scream, “Because I am thinking! About you, about us, and about how much I love you!”
However, those words seemed to get lodged in my throat.
“I’m fine,” I told him instead, hoping my voice didn’t sound as shaky as I felt.
Balling up the foil from the sandwich, he tossed it back inside the cooler. Then he turned to me with a concerned expression. Taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger, he tilted my head up until our eyes locked.
“Where did you go just now, sweetheart?”
Oh God. I was never any good at keeping secrets. Why start now?
Throwing caution to the wind, I just blurted it out.
“I love you.”
The concerned look on his face morphed into an expression of shock. I felt my cheeks flush.
Not very smooth or romantic at all. Way to go.
I held my breath and stared up at Fitz.
“Cadence,” he said. His tone almost sounded like a warning. I placed a finger to his lips.
“Shhh. You don’t have to say it back. When or if you do, I want you to mean it.”
He seemed to relax, and I tried to hide my disappointment. Still, I spoke the truth. When Fitz or any other guy said those words to me, I wanted to believe them with my whole heart. If Fitz repeated them back to me now, I might always question the sincerity.
However, the stare he kept fixed on me had me rooted to the spot with its intensity. I couldn’t look away. He appeared conflicted as if there was an internal war raging inside him. I debated whether I should reassure him again, tell him there was no pressure, and it was okay. He didn’t need to repeat back those three little, yet very significant words.
I felt the blush in my cheeks deepen, embarrassed by the way I had blurted out my feelings. But then, the corners of his mouth tilted up in the slightest of smiles. He reached around to cup the back of my neck, pulling my head toward his. When our mouths touched, our lips crashed together in the most unexpected mind-bending kiss.
Within moments, we were horizontal on the blanket, a tangle of roaming hands and limbs. Fitz rolled, so I was under him, kissing me deeper and harder as he settled himself between my thighs. I loved this. I loved the way he teased my bottom lip and the way his arms felt wrapped tightly around my body. I loved the feel of his bare chest and loved it, even more, when he trailed dizzying kisses down my neck. And him. I loved him the most.
I groaned, inching closer to his body, stroking my fingers across the taut flesh of his chest. He buried his face into my neck, nipping and sucking the sensitive area around my collarbone, before pulling away to look at me.
He cupped my face, pushing away a loose strand of hair that had pulled free from my braid during our hurried frenzy, and stared at me for a long moment. The torment in his eyes was now gone, replaced with irrefutable desire. Those beautiful grays flashed. He looked ready to eat me alive.
A fresh jolt of desire pounded through me. I was so undone, a shudder racked my body. He tightened his hold and plunged into my mouth again, his tongue forcing my lips apart, angling my head for the best and most instant access. The love that had been building over these past few weeks bubbled up inside me, and I felt like I’d been waiting for this moment my entire life. As our tongues danced, I was consumed with a whirl of passion and recklessness.
I wanted him, all of him. I knew I shouldn’t want these things–what he was doing to me, how he was making me feel. We were moving too fast, yet at the same time, it felt like it wasn’t fast enough.
“Fitz,” I choked out, tearing my mouth from his. As I struggled to catch my breath, our gazes locked. My blood heated to an impossibly hot temperature. I felt dazed and completely lost in him.
“Sweetheart, I’ve been trying hard to do the right thing with you, but it’s so fucking hard.”
The agony in his eyes was abundantly clear.
“So stop trying,” I offered.
He dropped his head, releasing a sound I’d never heard from him before. When he raised his head to look at me again, I began to drown in a sea of gray. He shook his head.
“You don’t know what you’re saying. And if you don’t stop looking at me like that, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“How am I looking at you?” I whispered.
His lips tugged at the corners.
“The same way you were looking at me when I asked to touch you for the first time.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
14
FITZ
She took my hands in hers and pressed my palms to her breasts. They were soft and perfect underneath the thin material of her bathing suit. I traced my thumbs over her nipples, feeling them harden from my touch. The urge to suck on the
m until she was mindless overcame me. I wanted to see her skin flush with desire. There were so many things I could do to her, moves I’d perfected that would make her scream.
And damn me to hell, but I wanted to teach her every fucking one of them.
Slowly, I reached under her head and removed the little rubber band that secured her braid. Working my fingers through her hair, I spread out the woven strands, so that they splayed around her head, golden and beautiful. As much as I loved the braids she wore, there was something about her hair being down that made her look wild and free.
Instantly, my hands were everywhere, pulling at the strings of her bathing suit, kissing every inch of warm skin the moment it was revealed. Her breasts now free, I pulled back to look at them. They were perfect and pale with taut pink nipples begging for my attention.
I ran my tongue along the line of her throat. She tasted as sweet as she smelled. I kissed my way around her breasts, nibbling and sucking. She whimpered beneath me as I flicked a nipple with my tongue. Her chest rose and fell as I glanced up to her face. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were swollen from my kisses. She was, undoubtedly, the most amazing sight I’d ever laid eyes on.
“God, sweetheart, every inch of you is perfect.”
Lifting one of her legs, I wrapped it around my hip and pressed against her. Cadence gasped and arched her back in response. Her hands gripped my hair, pulling at the strands, in the best imaginable way. Her pants were beautiful and uninhibited, not a trace of hesitation in sight.
My hand slid down over her abdomen until it reached the line of her bikini bottom. I moved my hand lower, cupping her. I could feel how hot and wet she was even through the thin line of clothing. My cock strained to break free from my shorts. I wanted to shed the barriers, to feel her naked body against mine but knew that it was out of the question. It would be too tempting. Although she hadn’t said it, I knew she was a virgin. I had no business taking that from her. It was bad enough I surrendered to the carnal need I had for her, especially knowing I’d have to leave her at summer’s end.
Cadence Untouched: A Dahlia Project Novel Page 11