After my chat with Mom at our kitchen table—Tasha was right, Joyce will always be my mom—I woke the next morning to her standing at Dad’s side while he made pancakes. I finally had what I wanted. My dad was back. My mom was literally back. And yet that cavernous ache persisted.
The accident had been the physical setback of a lifetime. At least, I hoped so. God willing, an unfortunate circumstance such as that one limited itself to one per person per lifetime. It had rattled my brain, destroyed my car, and sealed my fate.
As I thought those ominous words, a low rumble of thunder rippled across the sky. That was all the warning I had before the clouds opened up above me. Rain splattered on my head and, since I had the top down, onto the car’s seats. I didn’t move to put the top up, instead welcoming the water as a baptism of sorts.
The accident had been, in its own way, a gift. Dad had stopped gambling to take care of me. Mom had a reason to come back into my life, and subsequently Dad’s. Devlin and I had become brothers in a way other than surreal. Tasha had showed up to help, refusing to leave my side.
Until I’d pushed too hard and had broken her very strong will.
The greasy fast-food I’d eaten for lunch tossed in my stomach. She’d done nothing but help me when I’d been an impossible asshole. Then she’d let me in, let me kiss her, let me love her. God, I missed her. So damn much.
I rubbed the center of my chest, blinking against the raindrops hitting my cheeks and soaking through my T-shirt. There was a pain there I wasn’t used to. It was different from the humiliation I’d felt whenever I tried to speak clearly and failed. It was different from the physical zap when my body had been undergoing PT. It was a fresh, new sort of pain. With fangs that bit into my heart relentlessly.
Regret wasn’t a stranger to me. I’d spent years mourning that I’d followed Brooke. Mourned each and every cocky assurance to anyone listening that I was going to be the best damned lawyer on the planet. Mourned the loss of the building on Claire that was, I thought, destined to have my name on it. My friends hadn’t stolen the future from me. That was their future. I didn’t want any of the things I used to and pretending I was embittered by it only proved that I was the interloper.
The dream hadn’t died, it’d been reborn. I stroked the steering wheel, wiping the water away. I wanted what I had. Correction: what I’d had. I didn’t have Tasha. Not anymore. It’d been nearly two weeks since I’d stormed out of her apartment. Devlin had mentioned her once, and Rena had said nothing, only glared at me from her position behind the bar at Oak & Sage.
I respected her loyalty to Tasha, but it hurt like hell to see the reminder of how badly I’d fucked up on Rena’s formerly friendly face.
In an effort to move on, I’d dropped off an application at a car dealership a few days ago. I applied for the garage; they offered me a sales position.
I accepted it.
I figured sales was a good skill to have in life, and I was an asset since I could pinpoint what was wrong with any trade-in with just a quick glance. During my interview, I identified a transmission problem by the grinding/humming sound when it had pulled onto the lot.
I’d turned in my notice to Devlin and ignored (mostly) the hollowness inside of me. I tried to think of Brooke and Tasha as the same mistake made twice, but the idea never took root. They were both from wealthy families, but that’s where the similarities ended. I hadn’t loved Brooke. I’d been infatuated. Tasha, on the other hand…
Did I love her?
I forced my head from side to side, my neck protesting the movement. Then I tried to verbally convince myself. What came out was, “Nuh-no.”
My tongue was my lie detector. That was the first stumble I’d had in a while.
Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no such thing as a telltale stammer.
“I don’t c-care about T-Tasha,” I tried again. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, lip curling in frustration.
“I love her,” I said, blinking when a raindrop hit my eye. My stomach sank in that way it does when you realize you’ve buried yourself in a very deep pile of shit. “I’m in love with Tasha Montgomery.”
Idiot. I fucking knew it.
My other superpower was holding a grudge. In the past I’d exercised this skill with my ex-girlfriend, even after she’d gone, and Dad, and of course, Mom. Now I was doing it to Tasha.
Tasha, who’d sat with me until the ambulance arrived, my red blood soaking into Blue’s fabric seats. Tasha, who’d watched over my hospital bed, holding vigil for a guy she should have hated on principle. Tasha, who’d refused to let me give up on myself when all I’d wanted to do was sulk.
I didn’t know if I could forgive myself for the accusations I made that night in her apartment. And I really didn’t know if she could forgive me. She’d been burned by Tony and had forgiven him, though, and that bastard really hadn’t deserved it. Did that mean she had a soft, forgiving heart? Or was she brushing up on her grudge-holding skills?
Only one way to find out.
I sped away from Alley Road, needle-tipped raindrops stabbing my skin. Winning her back would take a lot of honesty, and groveling. Maybe a little public humiliation would help too. My pride needed taught a lesson.
“She’s worth it.” I blew through a very yellow traffic light and pointed my car toward Ridgeway University. I wasn’t sure if my nerves would get the better of me when I saw her, or if I’d stutter every word I tried to speak. I also didn’t care. She was worth handing over my pride and my reputation.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tasha
The rain had stopped, but the clouds remained. I pulled in a deep breath as I left the building, hoping my bombed pathophysiology final wouldn’t keep me from graduating. I was pretty sure I’d be okay despite the low grade.
Professionally speaking.
Personally speaking, I wondered if I’d ever be okay again. I wasn’t sure how long heartbreak could last, considering I didn’t have the good sense to fall out of love with a certain tattooed, firm-chested, sandy-haired guy.
I’d spotted Tony on campus earlier today and he’d avoided me. I’d heard his girlfriend broke up with him. I’d failed to revel in the forlorn expression on his face, maybe because I empathized with him. It hurt to be hurt. But I also hadn’t been stupid enough to console him. Tony had spotted me and made a beeline for the library, head down. I’m assuming that had something to do with my father calling Anthony Fry, Senior. Morton Montgomery had reported proudly that he’d told Tony’s dad to “Keep that philandering excuse for a boy away from my daughter.”
I smiled every time I thought of my dad picking up the phone in my honor. He cared. And that felt good.
Work was going well and, despite feeling as if I might crumble to dust at any moment, life was inching forward. I’d indulged in a few clichéd ice cream/movie nights with Rena, who claimed Ben & Jerry were the best friends to have when navigating a breakup. She didn’t bring up Cade and I didn’t ask how he was doing. I was too afraid of bad news. Like, maybe Devlin had gone to talk some sense into him and Cade had told him in no uncertain terms that he hated me.
If that were true, there was no point in being so in love with him I couldn’t see straight. But I was. My heart needed a lobotomy.
“Tasha Montgomery.” The tinny, amplified voice coming from behind me was eerily familiar. “Has anyone seen Tasha Montgomery?”
Slowly, I turned, unsure if I’d manifested Cade like those law of attraction books claimed, or if I imagined him standing on a park bench in the center of campus. If I was imagining it, my brain was damn detailed. He stood, megaphone to his mouth, tattoos trailing down his arm. His shirt was damp, his hair a mess, like he’d been caught in the storm I’d just missed.
Cade spotted me then. I saw the curve of his smile behind the megaphone. Watching me closely, he said into the speaker, “You know Tasha. The beautiful blonde who owns me.”
“Yo, Fox!” a guy shouted, coming in for a high-five. Silver-t
ongued fox. A frisson of pride curled around my heart at hearing him speak so well. He’d done it. He’d freaking done it.
“I figured you would respond better to a public announcement than a text,” he continued, speaking into the megaphone as a growing crowd of students stopped to watch the show.
“You have my attention,” I called out, feeling several sets of curious eyes on me. “You can put it down now.”
His grin widened. “When I’m done.”
Around us, there were a few miniature rounds of applause and at least one wolf whistle. I felt as if I was under a giant spotlight.
“I lost my voice, kitten. You found it.” His eyes bored into me, his voice strong and steady. “Then you tore me in two. You ripped my chest open and climbed inside.”
“Whipped!” some guy shouted.
Cade turned his attention to him. “Love sucks, man. Especially when you’re totally gone for a girl who hates your guts.”
More eyes swiveled to me as my heart took a nosedive.
With quiet sincerity, Cade spoke into the megaphone again. He was too far away. There were too many people around. Regardless, he admitted, “I fucked up.”
The crowd silenced, waiting for my response. I had no idea what to say. He had fucked up. He also might love me, but I didn’t want to read too much into this public display. I was both terrified and hopeful.
“You know the story.” Cade spoke conversationally to the surrounding students, but his eyes were on mine. “I took a header into a fire hydrant which ended my illegal after-school activities.” Another whistle came from behind me.
Cade’s eyes smiled as he stepped off the bench and walked in my direction, megaphone pressed to his lips. “I lost everything I cared about. My car, my family. My future.”
A few feet away from me, he stopped.
“But I gained a few things too. A brother. Renewed passion for my favorite hobby.”
I cringed, remembering that I’d called cars a hobby. He winked, his smile evident. It’s okay.
He depressed the button on the megaphone and continued. “And a friend who refused to give up on me. I didn’t deserve her. Still don’t.” His voice rose. “And then she kissed me.” Wolf whistles sliced the air followed by a “Get ’er, Fox!” Cade grinned, and I admit I couldn’t keep from smiling. He was in his element again, but this time using his powers for good. Just what I’d prayed for. “I fell so hard I think it jarred something loose in here.” He tapped his head. “And definitely in here.” He pointed to his chest.
“Alas, I am not going to be a lawyer,” he announced. The crowd had split reactions. Some cheered, others booed. “I start working at Littman’s GMC next Thursday, so”—he held up a finger—“if you need a great deal on a used car with low, low financing, come see me.”
In spite of my skittering pulse and a possible pending sob-fest, I laughed at his attempt to break the tension. There was a lot of it. He was putting on a show, but I could tell he was nervous. His speech was crystal clear, but the megaphone shook ever so slightly in his hand.
My nose tingled with impending tears as he erased the space between us. He lowered the megaphone and said just for me, “I love you. I miss you. Please forgive every stupid shitty thing I said in your apartment that night. I was a complete and total jackass and I will never ever hurt you like that again.”
I simply stared, not knowing what to say.
When he dropped to his knees, my gasp was echoed by a choir of others. He spread his arms wide. “I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you, Cade!” a girl shouted from the distance.
“You’re the only one who matters.” He kept his eyes on mine.
“I’m not shallow because I have nice things.”
“I know.”
“I kept the Z4.”
“You should. It’s yours.”
“Are you really a car salesman?”
“Yes, and I signed up for business classes. In case BMW needs a new CEO someday.” His smile was brief. He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “That night I was mad at myself and scared shitless you’d leave me. And then you did, and I—God, Tasha, I can’t breathe. I swear this is the first full breath I’ve taken in nearly two weeks.” His thick eyebrows rose. “Forgive me?”
How could I not? I loved him. He loved me. He screwed up. I screwed up. We were both hurting so, so much. Doubt crept into his caramel-colored eyes. Someone coughed, reminding me I hadn’t answered him yet.
“I forgive you.”
His lips spread into a smile as relief pushed him to his feet. He reached up and palmed my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb.
“Thank you.”
“I shouldn’t have slapped you.”
“You should have. I only wish it’d knocked sense into me that night.” He shook his head, his cheeks pinching as if reliving that horrible argument. “And if you’re worried about what your dad would say about us, I already know.”
“You do?”
His voice dipped to impersonate my father. “‘If you hurt my baby girl, Caden Wilson, I’ll castrate you.’”
I blinked. “That actually sounds like him.”
“It should, it’s a direct quote.”
He went to my father? For me? I was not only impressed, I was a goner. The tightness in my chest eased as I took a long, welcome breath. But he wasn’t done yet.
He pointed at the space between us. “If you close this gap and kiss me, I swear no matter how upset I am in the future, I will never, ever walk away from you to save my stupid pride. I’ll listen to what you say, even if you’re yelling at me. You can even tie me to the bed to ensure I don’t go anywhere.”
That made me smile. “I like the sound of that.”
He blew out a breath. “God, me too.” His eyes twinkled with mischief, but mostly with love. Seeing it there so raw made me realize it’d been there all along. Like his ability to speak smoothly, he only had to let go of control for it to come to the surface. He palmed the back of my neck. “I don’t want to lose you. As long as you let me stick around, I’ll be here, kitten.”
I leaned in and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around me and I became vaguely aware of the megaphone pressing on my lower back. As the kiss deepened, our tongues meeting for the first time in way too long, shouts of encouragement came from our audience.
When we parted, he swiped his thumb over my cheek, picking up a tear with it. A happy tear this time around.
“All aboard the Cade train?” I teased.
“There’s only room for one. Should we celebrate the beginning of our future together?”
“Definitely.” I grinned.
He backed away, lifted the megaphone, and announced, “Drinks on me at Oak & Sage!” The cheering crowd scattered for the parking lot.
“I always knew you loved the spotlight,” I told him, very impressed. And proud.
“I’ve always loved you.” He placed a soft kiss in the center of my lips. “Ever since I woke up and saw those beautiful blue eyes hovering over me in that hospital bed.”
Okay, that got me. My eyes filled anew. “We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?”
“Better than okay, kitten.”
Hand in hand, we walked to his car. I thought about the fated night when he’d wrecked his car. The painful weeks that had followed. The recent days that had folded into each other when we were together. And, I figured, he was right. We were better than okay. We’d traversed a bumpy road already. We were both too stubborn to go down without a fight. Only this time around, we’d fight for each other.
Keep reading for an excerpt of the first book in the Lost Boys, Daring Devlin.
Sneak Peek
Daring Devlin - Chapter One
Rena
The first time I’d seen Devlin Calvary, I held my breath until my chest inflated like a party balloon. Today hadn’t been any different. The moment I saw his profile when I strode in, I ducked my head and ran for the kitchen. He was like the sun: hot, and
he made me squint if I looked directly at him.
Other than the flooring good looks of my boss, my new job had started without a bang. Oak & Sage hadn’t hit a dinner rush yet. My drill-sergeant-like trainer, Melinda, and I were attempting to stay occupied as well as stay out of shift manager Chet’s sight.
“How can anyone take him seriously with that lisp?” she spat. Melinda spat everything. She reminded me of an angry cat most of the time.
I frowned, dusting the broad leaves on one of the fake plants lining the top of the empty booths where she and I were cleaning. Well, where I was cleaning. She was gossiping about everyone she laid eyes on. I didn’t like her all that much, but she was the only coworker I really knew here. I missed my friends at the recently gone-out-of-business Craft Palace. Right about now, we’d be opening a shipment of new scrapbook paper and dishing about the cute delivery guy.
“What if he dated a girl with an ‘S’ at the beginning of her name?” Melinda said, an evil smirk on her face. “Like… Sarah. ‘Sthara, you’re stho sthexthy.’”
I tried not to laugh, but it was funny. Mean, but funny.
“Nervous about tonight?” she asked as I moved to the next plant. “It’s your first time alone.”
“No, I think I can do it.”
“It’s a lot of pressure. Don’t underestimate a Thursday. It’s twice as busy as Friday but in fewer hours. Plus, you have a three-table section.”
I glanced at her uneasily.
“And your tables aren’t in the direct path of the kitchen, so you’ll be double-timing it back there most of the evening.”
I blinked at her. “Are you trying to freak me out?”
She smiled, her eyes holding a lazy-cat look, then her gaze slid over my shoulder. I watched as her smile turned… something. Almost lusty. Then I realized why.
Craving Caden (Lost Boys Book 2) Page 17