He's the One

by Jane Beckenham

  "And you're good at business."

  "Yes, I am. Once I've given him the plans for his new bar, the deal is over."

  "No chance of resuscitating it?” Nita asked, ever hopeful.

  Could she? Would she? No, that was impossible. “How do you resuscitate something that never was?"

  "Oh, Taylor Sullivan, you're fooling yourself. It was. Believe me. I see it in your eyes every time the phone rings."

  Damn it. Nita saw far too much. While Taylor felt too much, and right now she needed to escape. “Gotta go,” Taylor chimed, and spinning on her heels, she climbed into her jeep, belted up and started the engine in quick succession. She gave Nita a wave. “I have dinner with my family tonight after the wedding."

  "Fun with the family.” Nita grimaced.

  Taylor refused to ponder that particular statement. History reminded her that “fun” wasn't something in her parents’ well-orchestrated and well-pigeonholed lives. While she was the proverbial round peg in their square-holed life.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cade chewed himself out. He should be anywhere but here. Why the heck hang out at a wedding? He wasn't in the market for one.

  He slowed the pickup to a crawl along the curve of the bay, halting across from the reception venue. He switched off the ignition and sat back and watched.

  Set against an aqua colored sky mirroring the lilting harbor, and fringed by a row of pohutukawa trees whose fallen scarlet flowers imitated a carpet beneath each, the Victorian mansion reconstituted as a wedding venue, bordered one end of the bay was picture-postcard perfect.

  * * * *

  The bridal party had finished their photos, but he wasn't interested in the bridal couple, just the wedding planner.

  Man, she looked good. For the last half hour Taylor Sullivan, minus her sexy high heels, had waded across the golden sand, circling the couple, arranging the bride's dress and flowers to their utmost elegance for the photographer.

  Cade scowled. What a waste. Photos that after a few months would lay deserted in the drawer and, if the marriage went belly-up, would most likely be torn in two during some angst-ridden wailing. He eyed the couple with derision. They looked happy—for now. But Cade didn't care if others succumbed to the marriage game. Just don't expect him to imitate their nuptial joy.

  So what brought you here, Harper?

  Taylor Sullivan—that's what. She'd haunted his days and nights. He'd tried phoning. Tried ignoring the ache, and that was no bloody use either.

  "You're desperate,” Zane had informed him, pleased as punch. “Making you a snappy so and so."

  "Get a life, brother."

  "I have one. Do you?"

  Dead right he did. He was on the way up with a thriving small chain of bars, about to open a more upscale one in the heart of yuppie-ville. What else did he need?

  Taylor Sullivan.

  Cade's sank back into the cushioned leather of the pickup, his hands fisting knuckle-white on the steering wheel as his brother's words replayed for the umpteenth time in his brain.

  "Cade,” his brother chuckled while helping himself to a whiskey after closing time. “Katie told me you were one unhappy dude."

  Cade lifted his head from the drawing he'd spent the last hour doodling—T.A.Y.L.O.R. He screwed up the scrap of paper and tossed it to the bin—and missed. Cursing aloud, he gave his brother his best scowl.

  "You two ganging up on me, again?"

  "Someone has to."

  On and on his sibling had railed at him. Eventually, Cade tuned out, though one part of him knew that deep down his brother and sister cared. They were his only family. Zane and Katie were all that mattered. But now, as he waited outside watching Taylor, he realized they weren't the only ones that mattered. In fact, they'd slipped down the caring, sharing ladder a couple of notches.

  If he could just see her again. He didn't have to talk to her, but then at least he would be able to explain—to himself, hopefully—the raw need that came over him and finally everything would make sense. Seeing Taylor, he prayed, would help him understand what the hell was going on in his head.

  And make it go away.

  Cade slammed a fist down hard on the steering wheel, hitting the horn by accident, and a sharp, staccato beep rent the air. Several guests twisted to see where the noise had come from.

  "Shit."

  Cade craned his neck as the crowd slowly hedged towards the reception rooms, laughing, smiling and dusting the sand off their feet. Taylor was the last. With her back to him, she slipped her heels back on. Killer heels that emphasized her long legs. Sexy legs.

  Damn. His eyes shuttered momentarily as he fought to control the scorching desire that fuelled every part of him.

  He had it bad.

  Dressed in a camel colored suit that hinted at no inch of skin, Cade's slow gaze slid down her length, imagining her secret. The one he knew.

  His lips lifted into a tight smile. Was Taylor wearing that sexy underwear? The lace and silk that cupped her full breasts, and the stockings. Oh yeah ... The stockings. Cade shifted uncomfortably. Lace edged that skimmed her creamy thighs. His groin swelled, growing harder with every teasing image stored in his memory. He had expected Taylor to follow the guests. Instead, she gave the bride and groom a hug. From his position across the other side of the road, Cade struggled to hear their conversation, but their friendly banter washed away on the breeze. With the bridal couple turning to go inside, Taylor gathered her bag and came curbside. She scanned the street as if looking for someone.

  Cade frowned. Who was she waiting for?

  A boyfriend?

  No. He didn't like that idea. No, siree. Not one little bit.

  Scrambling out of the pickup, he dug his hands deep into his pockets. It was now or never. And never wasn't really an option.

  As he strode across the road, his blood roared in his head and a trickle of sweat trailed down the side of his head. He'd never felt so like a school kid in his life.

  "Taylor?” Cade's breath caught in his throat, his lungs refusing to work, his heart hammering, body alive as it had never, ever been before.

  This was life.

  Before was—was nothing compared to this. He wished he could freeze the moment in time because for one, infinitesimal second, as Taylor spun round to face him, delight and joy shone in her eyes and spread across every part of her beautiful face. Then it evaporated, disappeared within the flick of an eye. She held her bag in front of her, as if it was a shield against him. He wanted to reach out and hold her, but she was wary, and the haunted color that darkened her eyes held him back.

  "What are you doing here, Cade?"

  "I...” Yeah why? He couldn't think of the answer, at least not one that wouldn't get him arrested.

  "I'm in the middle of a wedding, Cade,” she said, looking back over her shoulder at guests who mingled outside.

  "Seems like a success, everyone having a good time."

  "You need to go."

  Desperation whirred inside him. “I keep thinking about you."

  Whorls of scarlet flushed her face, and her lips pursed. He wished he could see her eyes, perhaps then he could really read her soul and understand that was going on.

  "You'll get over it. Just hook up with one of those girls that give you the come-on at the bar,” she said, refusing to look at him.

  "You sound jealous."

  That caught her attention. Her head jack-knifed round, and her mouth opened and closed, but she said nothing. Just looked at him with those dark, cerulean eyes that tore at his soul. He was a drowning man.

  "Cade, I can't do this."

  He played for time. “This what?"

  Taylor looked both ways, as if she was making sure the coast was clear. It revved up the nerve quotient several notches.

  "It's okay, it's just us two,” he said trying to get her to relax. “Unless you've got a boyfriend lurking in the bushes?” He'd asked the question before he'd actually realized it, but knew gut deep he didn't want
to know the answer.

  Scaredy cat!

  Too damn right, Cade conceded.

  "Low blow, Cade."

  He should have felt guilty, but didn't. “Yeah, I'm sorry. Actually, no, I'm not; I'm glad. I don't want you to have a boyfriend."

  "Then you'll be pleased I don't."

  He stepped closer, appeased that she didn't move away. Instantly, her perfumed assailed his senses and his eyes slid closed for a fraction of time, sparking fragrant memories. “I want it to be me."

  "Oh."

  "Just ‘oh'?” He watched her intently, waiting for some hint she was interested. “You still haven't given me an answer, Taylor. Why can't you do this?"

  "Because it wasn't what we agreed. And besides, it was a one-off, a you helping me and vice versa sort of thing."

  "True. But rules are made to be broken. Why can't we make a new agreement?"

  "I don't want to."

  "So that's it, I'm supposed to up and walk away?"

  "Yes,” she said, not really looking at him.

  Damn it. He didn't want to. Couldn't. “Shit.” Used to being chased and not the chaser, Cade felt like some damned puppet with someone else was pulling the strings.

  Try harder, Harper. Use your charm.

  Cade eyed the reception venue. The Victorian spires, the elegant woodwork. His hands fell to his sides and his shoulders slumped. “Show me what you do, Taylor. Your fantasies."

  "Pardon?” That she didn't automatically say no fuelled a tangent of hope in Cade. Taylor wasn't as immune to him as she made out, but then how could a woman who had whispered such teasing fantasies during love making be immune?

  And your immunity?

  Cade ignored his subconscious. “Show me what is involved in a wedding."

  "But you don't like weddings."

  "I said I don't want my own; it doesn't mean I can't admire your skill at planning one."

  "This one?"

  "Why not?"

  Taylor swiveled towards the stately building. “It's nearly over."

  "Can I see, please?"

  My God, he was begging. He didn't want her to say no and was scrambling to do everything to prolong the inevitable. He watched her as indecision warred with her conscience; teased by her glorious hair, remembering the moment he first threaded his fingers through it.

  "I'm glad you wore your hair up,” he said, eyeing her sleek chignon.

  Taylor's hand went automatically to her hair, smoothing the strands.

  "It bares your neck, and I have an indescribable urge, Taylor Sullivan, to trail my fingers along your bare skin."

  A soft pink tinge colored her face. “Oh."

  "Then, I'd follow that trail, very closely with my lips.” He smiled then, reveling in the fact of being with this woman. No sex. Simply being together.

  Cade choked back a groan. Man, he was really losing it.

  "Don't.” Her voice was so soft, he barely heard it, a whisper on the breeze.

  "Don't stop?” he teased. “Oh baby, I definitely don't want to stop. Then there are your long legs. Do you know how tempting they are, Taylor? Legs that lead to heaven. Legs you wrapped around me, your breasts pushing against me, hearing the soft plea of your voice as you climaxed against me, whispering in my ear."

  "No."

  He stepped closer still, barely inches separating them, and heard her faltered breathing. Saw the rise and fall of her breasts beneath her suit.

  "You said you wanted more, Taylor."

  "That was then."

  Cade squeezed his eyes closed. Take it easy. Don't frighten her off. Don't screw up. “So who's the lucky couple?” he questioned. “No difficult questions from the bride this time?"

  Taylor's eyes darkened, and she stared up at him through impossibly long lashes. The tip of her tongue slid across her bottom lip. Cade watched it every step of the way. He wanted to tangle with it. Taste it.

  "You mean sex?” she said.

  "Yeah, those questions.” And he couldn't help but smile at her. “They're what got us into this, after all."

  Taylor's teeth scraped over her bottom lip. “A few,” she said.

  "And you were okay?"

  Her spine stiffened. “If you mean did I answer them, then yes."

  "That's good. It's what you wanted, isn't it?"

  "Yes, I suppose so."

  "Only suppose? I thought that was the whole idea. Get some ‘experience’ so you could answer the questions. You know if there's ever one you can't answer, you can always come to me for some ... ah ... technical advice."

  "Not likely."

  Cade chuckled at her answer. “Shame. Could be fun,” he countered hoping to remind Taylor what she was missing. “So, are you going to show me?” He held out his hand and willed her to take it. For a second, he thought she would as her gaze dropped to his outstretched hand, before traveling up his arm, washing across his face. Her appraisal held him rigid. He imagined he could even hear her thinking it over, sizing him up. Then she stepped back.

  Damn.

  "The wedding reception is underway, but we can take a peek from the sidelines,” she said, refusing his hand.

  Taylor led the way through the side entrance, and the moment they entered, Cade felt her relax, nodding and speaking briefly with guests whose accolades for her work were certainly justified.

  Laughter and music met them from every corner. Happy faces, bursting with the joy of a new life about to begin. Decorated in peaches and cream, baskets of flowers hung from the ceiling, all connected with streams of twined green vines. A myriad of twinkling white lights reflected a thousand-fold from the satin swathed ceilings and walls while standard candelabra adorned with creamy rose scented candles burned brightly and proffered an intoxicating sense of romance.

  "It looks like heaven has descended,” Cade said impressed.

  Finally, Taylor smiled. “Thank you. That's what I wanted."

  "You've succeeded.” He picked a bud rose from the nearest cascading arrangement and tucked it behind her hair, unable to resist the temptation of trailing his fingers down of her cheek. A whisper-soft mewling fluttered from her lips, and the dance of her pulse beneath his fingers brought a smile to his lips.

  Cade's gaze scanned the room, capturing its beauty and then back to Taylor. “I can see why creating something this beautiful gives you a great deal of satisfaction."

  "It does.” She hugged her bag closer. “Life is hard enough these days. Sometimes it's nice to have little bit of fantasy."

  As soon as the words slid from her lips, Cade saw reality dawn on Taylor's face and she jerked backwards. She dropped her gaze and hid her wary eyes behind the heavy fall of her lashes.

  "Don't hide away. Taylor.” He reached out and took her hand in his, a hand so slender it made only half the size of his. He threaded his fingers through hers. “Look at me. Please?"

  Her eyes opened, wide, fearful.

  "Don't be afraid."

  She bridled. “I'm not."

  "Yes, you are."

  With heavy lids, she gazed up at him, her lips parted slightly. He could feel the soft fan of her breath against his skin as she leaned toward him. He wanted to kiss her. Had dreamed of this moment for days—and long nights

  "Why are you doing this, Cade?"

  He went to answer, but there wasn't really any answer. He was reacting on instinct, something he'd never done before. In the past, he'd always thought things through, planned his life. “Since I met you, my head is in a whirl."

  "So, take some Panadol."

  He ignored her cutting remark. “I'm doing things I see other guys do. Love sick guys."

  Shit. Had he said that? He wasn't love sick—he wasn't. Absolutely not. Love wasn't an option. And yet, with a sickening dread, he'd woken up to reality. “You're the first thing I think of when I wake up. I haven't slept for days."

  "So, I'm your nightmare?"

  "No, not a nightmare. A fantasy."

  "Go get a book, Cade. I don't want to be in
your dreams. That wasn't part of the deal."

  "Look, I'm sorry if I made you miss your ... date with Rob."

  Taylor turned from him them, hiding her expression. “I don't want to talk about it."

  Damn. He needed to see her face, her eyes and very definitely her mouth. “Why not? It's in the past. We all have memories, Taylor, have to live with them. The word live here is the deal. Live,” he reiterated.

  "We're not talking about Rob. You're in lust, that's all, Cade. It's all in your pants."

  "That's not like you, Taylor. Don't be coarse."

  She rounded on him then, poking one long polished nail deeply into his chest. “That's just it, you don't know what I'm like."

  "But I want to."

  "No. Forget it. Forget what we did."

  "That, sweetheart, is totally unforgettable."

  "Shut up, Cade. Just shut up. I'm not going to let you use me to assuage your lust."

  "Isn't that exactly what you did? What we did together."

  "It was a business arrangement. But you think you can just smile and get that dimple under my skin and I'll fall into your bed."

  "Well, you gotta admit it was good,” he chuckled, trying for a smidgen of humor.

  But Taylor wasn't about to give an inch. “Good. It was..."

  "Hot! We were hot together, sweetheart."

  A sudden shout from behind caught them both unawares. “Taylor, there you are. I've been looking everywhere for you. I thought you were going to wait outside for me."

  Cade's hand dropped away and Taylor jerked back and hugged her bag across her chest once more. She brushed back an invisible strand of hair and tugged nervously at her skirt and jacket as if to perfect something that was already perfection. She turned to their interloper.

  "Edward,” her voice came out a whisper and she coughed several times, stammering.

  Why was Taylor suddenly so nervous? Cade looked at Edward. Stocky, forty-ish dressed in khaki's and a button-down plaid shirt. Very staid. Very stoic and reliable.

  Nothing like a bar owner.

  Cade's gaze twisted back to Taylor, but she refused to meet his stare. His blood heated up a notch. A boyfriend? But she'd said no to his boyfriend question.