Craving Caden (Lost Boys Book 2)

by Jessica Lemmon

  “It’s so good to hear your voice.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “Paul said it was back, but wow. It really is back. This Tasha must be a miracle worker.”

  I ignored the stab of pain in my chest.

  “I’d like to meet her sometime.”

  “You won’t,” I snapped, the pain spreading. “We broke up.”

  “Oh.” Joyce looked like she wanted to talk about it but shook her head and rerouted to the topic at hand. “You shouldn’t pursue a degree if you’ve lost interest. You obviously went into law for Brooke. You followed that girl around like a puppy.”

  What a visual. I grimaced. “No, I didn’t.”

  “I didn’t mean that as an insult,” she continued. “You thought you were in love. How were you supposed to know at eighteen what you wanted for the rest of your life? Who you wanted to marry or settle down with? Time changes people.”

  I knew that hard-won truth. I’d changed. I wasn’t the same guy who’d chased at Brooke’s heels. Hell, I wasn’t even the same guy who’d crashed my Audi into a fire hydrant. So much had changed since then. Around me. Inside of me.

  “You burned the ships when you professed your love to Brooke. I wanted to protect you but I knew you wouldn’t listen. When you commit, Caden, you commit.”

  I thought of Tasha and how untrue that was. I’d walked out on her tonight and I hadn’t looked back. I rubbed a hollow spot in the center of my chest calling me a liar.

  “You really want to work with cars?” my mom asked.

  “Yeah.” I held the water bottle tight, not meeting her eyes until she rested her hand on my forearm.

  “Then do that. Life is too short not to be honest about what you want.” She sent a gaze over at my dad. “Or who you want.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t listen,” my dad added. “I had a rough day and when I called to talk to your mother, she offered to come over and…”

  “Spare me the details.” I held up a hand. But I smiled. Paul and Joyce looked happy. They deserved to be happy. “I need to think. I can’t do that here. I’m going for a drive.”

  “About Tasha,” Mom started. “Would you like to talk about it?”

  I shook my head.

  “Be safe. No alcohol.”

  “I won’t drink. Promise.” I felt like I’d been drunk on Tasha for months. I expected the hangover of a lifetime.

  “I might be here in the morning,” my mom said.

  “You will.” Dad’s hand closed over hers.

  My heart buoyed. Or at least it would have if it wasn’t weighed down by acute loss. I loved my parents. I wanted them to be okay—to be together. I’d wanted it for a long while, though I’d been too frightened to hope for it until now.

  “What I should have told you earlier,” my father said to me, “is that you’re the only one who knows your own heart. You were fighting for what you wanted earlier. I shouldn’t have argued with you about it.”

  Except for where Tasha was concerned. I wanted her, but I didn’t fight for her. I fought with her.

  “Everything will work out.” Mom held my father’s hand on the table. “You’ll see.”

  I palmed my neck, my throat full. I was suddenly drained, recent events having taken their emotional toll. I didn’t want to think. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to forget about tonight entirely. I doubted I would be so lucky. “Second thought, I’m, uh, I’m going to bed. See you…both in the morning.”

  “I’ll make pancakes,” Dad said. Just like the old days.

  I pressed a kiss to Joyce’s forehead. “Love you, Mom.”

  “Love you too, sweetheart.” Tears shimmered in her eyes and I hightailed it out of there before I did something truly embarrassing and burst into tears with her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Tasha

  “The reason I asked you to come by is so that I could explain something to you, Natasha. I’ve been under a lot of pressure at work,” my father said. We weren’t in his stodgy office for a change, but at the kitchen table. A glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice was in his hand, a steaming cup of coffee in mine. The plate of doughnuts he’d served sat untouched between us.

  I’d almost turned down his invitation. I hadn’t seen or heard from Cade since he’d walked out of my bedroom a week ago. I was tender and hurting but managed to go to class and work. I wasn’t sure what Rena and Devlin knew, if anything, so I’d avoided my best friend this week too. Well, I’d texted her. We always texted. I’d kept it simple. Jokes about my stupid pathophysiology teacher, photos of my coffee, an excerpt from the paper I was writing.

  Amazing what you can hide in text messages. On a screen, anyone would assume I was bubbly, chirpy Tasha. In real life, I was a black-and-white movie with smooth lines and muted shadows with no way to discern one color from another.

  “I took out some of my anger on you and it was the wrong thing to do,” my dad continued. Did he really just say that? Color me shocked. Then he shocked me more by sliding the key to my Z4 across the table. “I never should have taken your car from you.”

  I hadn’t told him about the breakup, either. Which was probably why the next thing he said was, “I have no right to choose who you date. You’re a grown woman. Cade seems…to like you quite a bit.”

  That hurt. If he liked me so much, he wouldn’t have said half of what he said to me. Letting him into my heart had been a huge mistake.

  My dad finished his juice and walked the glass to the sink. “The BMW was a gift without strings. I shouldn’t have shown off in front of Tony.”

  “He cheated on me,” I blurted.

  My father shut off the faucet and regarded me, eyebrows bent.

  “With more than one of my friends.”

  “Natasha.”

  “That’s why we broke up.”

  “You didn’t tell me.” He sounded wounded, and a little like he regretted taking Tony’s side. He should.

  “I didn’t want to incur your wrath.” I picked up a doughnut and took a bite. It was sugary, sweet heaven. “You’re hard to please sometimes.”

  He put his hands in his pockets and studied the floor. “That’s what your mom said. Without the ‘sometimes,’” he added, his smile sad.

  I finished my doughnut, wiping my fingertips on a napkin. “I don’t want the car.”

  He met my eyes. “It’s your car.”

  “I’d rather you trust me. I’d rather have a relationship with you that didn’t involve you holding gifts and money over my head.”

  “This is about Cade,” he guessed. He wasn’t wrong, but what Cade had said had nothing to do with this. Cade believing I was money-hungry was either delusional or his own hang-up. I thought it was probably both.

  “You will finish school,” my father said.

  “Of course. Even if I have to pay for it myself.”

  “You will not pay for it.” He frowned. “I was stressed about money. It had nothing to do with you. We lost a lot last quarter and I…I’m not good at sharing my feelings.”

  Him and every other man on the planet.

  “I was terrified to lose this house,” he admitted.

  “Why?” I shook my head, not understanding. The place was a veritable palace. Way too big for just him.

  “Your mom designed this house.” He sat down again, looking less robotic and more human than ever. “She picked out every doorknob. Special ordered the baseboards. She picked each of the turquoise and pearl tiles in the shower in our room. My room,” he corrected. “And then she left.”

  My heart in my throat, I felt his pain. I was the one to choose him, but she was the one who’d left. And if I were being honest, we hadn’t truly fixed what was lost. She could have tried harder to bridge the gap between us.

  “And then you left.” He smiled sadly.

  “I’m right here.”

  He patted my hand, standing abruptly after a few meager pats. “Anyway. Enough of my moping. I won’t keep you from your plans today. I assume you want to see Caden.”

 
He sounded uncomfortable asking but I gave him points for trying.

  “We, um. We are done working together.”

  He frowned.

  “It’s all good,” I lied.

  “Then you need this.” He dangled the key between us. “You can’t take an Uber everywhere.”

  My face contorted as a sob crawled up my throat. My father wrapped his arms around me, and I hugged him hard.

  “H-he hates me,” I bawled.

  “Impossible.” He rubbed circles on my back and stayed silent. When I pulled back to swipe my cheeks, he held me at arm’s length. “Tasha.”

  I blinked at him. He never called me Tasha.

  “I suppose it won’t help if I tell you you’re too good for him.”

  I shook my head. “No. That’s what Cade thinks too. That I think I’m too good for him. He said I could never be with someone who made less than a billion dollars a year.” I sniffled. “Or something like that.”

  “Ahh, deflection,” my father said, his tone almost amused. “Sounds like the problems Caden has are his own. You are the most caring, loving, beautiful girl in the whole wide world.”

  My vision blurred as tears filled my eyes.

  “You took care of him because you cared about him. You’re an intelligent, brave, hardworking gir—erm, woman.” He blew out a soft laugh. “That’s hard for me to square some days. I still see my little girl.”

  I gave him a small smile.

  “A Z4 doesn’t make you shallow. If Caden can’t see that, you’re better off without him.”

  I knew he was right, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear.

  “She’s yours, Natasha.” He dropped the key into my palm. “You have done nothing but bust your tail in work and school. You earned it.”

  I closed my fist around the key. “Thanks, Daddy.”

  “You’re welcome, Natasha.” We shared a smile, then his faded and he said, “If you’ll excuse me, I have a conference call. Have a good day.”

  And that was it.

  My father shut the door to his office and I stood in the kitchen, my Z4’s key resting my palm. He was right. If Cade didn’t know me after the time we’d spent together, then I was better off without him.

  Outside, I put the top down on my reclaimed ride and slid my sunglasses onto my nose. I had a test today. I planned on arriving in style.

  “You seem…you seem okay.” Rena said after she’d given me a thorough once-over. I’d survived the test today and drove straight to Oak & Sage. Well, after determining it was Cade’s day off. I didn’t want to see him but felt as if I owed Rena the truth.

  I’d admitted everything and she’d lived up to her role of bartender–slash–mother hen, both feeding me alcohol and tucking me protectively under her wing. As the last hour progressed, she’d apparently decided it was time for me to leave the nest.

  “I say shake it off.”

  “Shake it off?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your advice about my recent breakup is the title of a Taylor Swift song?”

  “You love Taylor Swift.”

  “That’s true.” I gave her a weak smile. Rena got me. Everyone needed someone who got them. It was my fault for wishing one of those someones was Cade. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Would you like me to have Devlin kick Cade’s ass after work tonight, or would tomorrow morning work better?”

  I pretended to consider. “Does the offer expire? I’d like to cash it in when he’s least expecting it.”

  “I like the way you think.” Rena refilled my empty wineglass and stashed the bottle in the refrigeration unit. It was dead in here tonight. We had the bar to ourselves. She leaned on the bar and put her hand on my arm. “He hurt you.”

  “He did.” I felt like my heart had been scooped from my chest. Worse than when I found out Tony had cheated on me, and that was saying something.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’m shaking it off.”

  She didn’t laugh. “No, it’s not okay. I’m trying to make you feel better when what you need to feel is hurt. I’ve been there. I was so devastated, I couldn’t see straight.”

  I snapped my attention to Devlin, who had approached in time to overhear her consoling me. Rena followed my gaze over her shoulder, where her boyfriend regarded her with a mix of regret and admiration.

  “Hey.” His eyes cut to me, then back to her. “Have your drawer? I’m shutting down early.”

  “Sure.” Rena retrieved the bar’s cash drawer for him. He leaned over the bar, lips pursed for a kiss. A kiss she gave him. A kiss that lasted…a while.

  “I love you,” he said when their prolonged smooch had ended.

  “I love you too.” She beamed.

  I sipped my wine, wondering if I should excuse myself. But Devlin turned to me next, the cash drawer in one hand as he propped his elbow on the bar top. “What happened?”

  “The inevitable?” I sort of joked. Cade and I didn’t make sense. I’d fallen for him and he’d been as immune to me as if he’d been vaccinated.

  “What if I talk some sense into him? Tell him he’s being a chickenshit.” Devlin smirked and I couldn’t help smiling. That’s what I’d told Devlin when I talked sense into him about Rena.

  “Even though you do owe me,” I said, noting the adorable look of chagrin on Devlin’s face, “somehow I don’t think Cade would be inspired to come for me.”

  “Don’t underestimate the hold you have on him, Tasha. He’s come a long way since you.”

  “He was pretty clear the last time we spoke.” I fingered the stem of my wineglass. “He said lots of not-nice things when I suggested he go back to college.”

  Devlin sucked air through his teeth. I jerked my head up and found him shaking his head. “Let me start with this—he shouldn’t have disrespected you. For that there’s no excuse.”

  “You’ve taught him well.” I slid a glance to Rena, who nodded smugly.

  He spared her a wry smile before continuing. “But. College is a touchy subject for him. He’s not being obstinate. He legitimately doesn’t want to pursue law. Whether he can talk or not.”

  “But he’s come so far,” I defended. “He was devastated the day he saw his old friends moving into the building he’d found. They had plans to start their own firm.”

  “He’s not the same Cade who followed his high school girlfriend to college,” Devlin said. “He’s changed. Makes sense that what he wants out of life changed too, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, but…” I shook my head, not understanding. “Why wouldn’t he want the best life he could possibly have?”

  “Shouldn’t he be the one who decides what his best life looks like?” Devlin’s dark eyebrows leapt to his forehead. It dawned on me with a dart of regret that I wasn’t behaving much better than Cade’s ex-girlfriend.

  I replayed the argument with him in my head. Every ugly part of it. A lump formed in my throat. I cupped my hand over my mouth and uttered a watery, “Oh God.”

  “What is it, honey?” Rena reached for my hand, concern etched into her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “I—” I paused to hiccup as a tear escaped and rolled down my cheek. “I told him lawyers make great money.” I shook my head, at a loss. “I’m the money-hungry rich girl he accused me of being.”

  I wasn’t looking for sympathy, but it’s what came flying at me. Rena adamantly argued that I was far from money hungry, her voice ratcheting up an octave. When she started in about Cade not knowing a good woman if she slapped him in the face, a sob wrenched from my throat.

  “I did that too. He was being so cruel, and he was wrong. I don’t just want his body.” I sought Devlin with my eyes, and the pity in his gutted me. “I don’t care if he’s a mechanic. I just didn’t want him to give up on himself.”

  “Sometimes we give up things because they’re no longer good for us.” There was wisdom in Devlin’s words. He’d once worked for the mob, after all. He’d given that up, a
nd for good reason. He’d done it because he wanted a future with Rena.

  “Cade should’ve been nicer to her,” Rena argued, still firmly Team Tasha.

  “What kind of a prick would mistreat the woman he loves?” he asked, his gaze locked with Rena’s. She blushed, understanding he was talking about himself. “We all fuck up. If we’re lucky”—his head swiveled to me—“we are granted a second chance.”

  I hiccupped again, unsuccessfully stopping the tears streaking my face. Devlin’s hand wrapped around my neck. He bent to meet my eyes. “Let him come to you. He’s not who he used to be, Tash. He’ll realize what he’s losing and he’ll come back, tail between his legs.”

  “And if he doesn’t?” I whispered, half terrified of the answer.

  “Then he never deserved you in the first place,” Rena said.

  My vision blurred with more tears as Devlin put a kiss on my forehead. “You don’t need him if he can’t love you back.”

  Cade

  I had the day off, so I spent most of it under my Camaro’s hood. I wanted her purring like a kitten.

  Kitten.

  That made me think of Tasha, so I pushed the thought aside in favor of thinking of my car—the only girl I needed.

  I changed the Camaro’s name to Ice Blue. I liked to think Ice Blue was the color of my heart. An impenetrable, cold block, safe from women who sought to shatter it. The cavernous ache in my chest was proof my heart had different plans.

  Under Ice Blue, the hours flew by and yet time ceased to exist. During those dreamlike hours, I forgot about the Tasha-shaped hole in my chest. By midafternoon I remembered, so I climbed behind the wheel. I drove and drove, loving the sensation of power and control, and the massive sense of satisfaction that came from taking something dull and broken and fine-tuning it. That, too, made me think of Tasha, and all the work she’d done on my mouth—and the rest of me—which was how I ended up on Alley Road.

  Engine idling, I stared at the yellow fire hydrant with the telltale scrape of dark blue paint from Blue. My life had changed irrevocably that night. I’d only recently learned Joyce wasn’t my mother; that I’d been lied to by the two people who were supposed to love me most. I wanted my father to stop gambling, to be the reliable man I remembered. At the time I couldn’t imagine any of it resolving.