…
People of every age and size packed Les Acadiens Park. It was day two of the Cracklin Festival and while tourists strolled, children screamed, and a crew of Bon Terre’s finest manned booths, the rest of the town stood near the large stage at the back of the field. Although the mayor was at the microphone, going over activities to be done that day and during tomorrow’s parade and Fais Do Do, Cane knew the focus of the crowd was directed at him.
Or, more like split equally between him and Angelle, who was not standing beside him. And who was standing way too close to her ex.
Cane wanted to punch something. Neither of them had spotted him yet, even with the whispers of the crowd. He was behind them, several feet to the left, far enough not to make a scene but close enough to watch Brady’s arm flirt with holding her. By his watch, the man had moved to put it around Angelle’s waist three times. If he ever finally did, Cane wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.
Hands fisted in his pockets, tension knotted in his shoulders, Cane knew he deserved this. The jealous fire raging in his blood. The torment of knowing he’d caused Angelle pain and watching another man try to pick up the pieces. This was his payback. Seeing Angelle’s haunted profile, her smile broken. He’d done that to her. He really was an ass.
A dumb ass, too, because he’d actually thought the desperate need he’d had, the consuming possession he’d felt, would disappear once he’d had her. It hadn’t. Hours spent staring at the cold, open highway proved how flawed that logic had been. One night with Angelle hadn’t gotten her out of his system. If anything, she’d only burrowed deeper.
Right now, the need to hold her in his arms, to kiss away that pain was so strong Cane nearly shook with it. But he’d bide his time. He’d wait for her dad to finish and the group to disband, and then he’d speak with her. Alone. Without her adoring ex clinging to her like a leech.
As if the slime could hear his thoughts, Brady lifted his head. He scanned the crowd and when his eyes locked on Cane, an emotion akin to hate sparked in the good doctor’s eyes.
Maybe the man wasn’t the pushover Cane had pegged him to be. Behind him, Ryan and Troy stood a concerned guard, also clearly in the know that something had gone down. Only the fact that Cane was still standing with two functional testicles proved she hadn’t confessed the whole story.
Brady narrowed his eyes, a clear warning for him to stay away, then turned back to the stage. A mild case of respect formed for the man…but not enough for Cane to heed the warning. This wasn’t any of Brady’s damn business. And the fact that he wanted to be Angelle’s soft place to land had Cane entertaining thoughts of running his head into the damn stage.
“I guess that’s about it,” Angelle’s father said, snapping Cane’s focus back to the front. “Anyone needing a costume for tomorrow’s parade please see Dottie at the information desk. Other than that, y’all go on and have fun!”
With a cheer, the crowd dispersed, breaking into groups to chat. Cane strode forward.
Thoughts jumbled as he wove a path to where she stood. He’d trying calling from the road, but she never answered. Straight to voice mail. Now the long speech he’d prepared sounded pathetic in his ears. None of it mattered, other than he was sorry. So damn sorry.
A foot away from reaching Angelle, Troy stepped in front of him. “Maybe this isn’t the place to be doing this. I don’t know what’s going on—”
“You’re right.” Cane looked the other man in the eyes. He had sisters of his own, so he respected the gesture. But he wasn’t going anywhere. “You don’t.”
At the sound of his voice, Angelle had stiffened. The crowd around them quieted as her head snapped in his direction. Deep green pools of hurt slayed him. They reached into his soul and begged for answers he still didn’t have. The unmistakable proof of what he’d done was in those unguarded, honest eyes. Remorse lodged in Cane’s throat along with his apology.
I’m sorry wasn’t good enough.
This was why he’d sworn off relationships. He’d spent his entire adult life keeping good women like Angelle at a distance, the fear that he was his father’s son fueling his lifestyle of no attachments. But in the end, it had all been for nothing. He’d hurt Angelle anyway.
Her eyes squeezed shut, cutting off his connection to her thoughts. Sadly, it didn’t take a mind reader to know what she thought of him. She hated his guts. That truth hurt almost as much as knowing he deserved it.
Releasing a sigh, Angelle held up her hand when he moved forward. Thick lashes guarded her eyes as she said, “Not now, Cane. This festival’s important to our community.” A slight waver portrayed her emotions, and moistening her lips, she finished in a lowered voice, “Let’s not do this now, okay?”
As much as it pained him to deny her, Cane shook his head. “No, that’s not okay.”
That got a reaction. Her brothers bristled as Angelle raised her eyes. Cane took a step closer, feeling like shit warmed over when she winced. She was afraid of him. They weren’t just back to square one, as he’d feared—they’d flown straight off the board. But then Brady cupped her elbow in a display of protection, and Cane felt his nostrils flare.
He’d planned to do this alone, but he was man enough to grovel in front of witnesses if that’s what she needed. Cane knew he’d earned every damn wall she threw up between them, and then some.
“I screwed up,” he admitted loudly, taking yet another step. The crowd within hearing distance went completely silent. “I know it. You know it. The good doctor knows it, and everyone listening in right now knows it. Nothing I can do or say will change that. But we need to talk, and it has to be now. I’m not letting you go another minute, hour, or however long it’ll take you to think you’re ready to hear it, believing that any of this is your fault. It’s not. This is my bullshit.”
Angelle’s slim shoulders shook as she brushed her hair behind her ear, gaze darting to the rapt, eavesdropping crowd. But then it returned to him, which meant she was listening, too. That’s all Cane cared about.
He took another step, and Brady spoke up. “Look, Cane, you said your piece, but it’s clear Angie doesn’t want to discuss this right now. Don’t you think on today of all days you should respect her wishes?”
Today of all days? What the hell did that mean? Confused, Cane watched the tip of Angelle’s exposed ear flash red. The only possible explanation was that she had told her ex about last night, but if she had, that mild case of respect he’d developed for Brady vanished. If he knew what Cane had done and hadn’t thrown him to the ground, pummeling his ass, then Cane’s first opinion had been right. Brady wasn’t a man.
Hell, Cane wanted to kick his own ass for what he’d done.
Brady shook his head in disgust. “Yeah, today. Don’t you think bir—”
“Okay, we’ll talk!”
Both men turned at Angelle’s outburst, along with half the crowd. Eva, Lacey, and Angelle’s parents walked over to join the ring of spectators, and standing straight and tall, Mr. Prejean asked, “Is there a problem here?”
“No, Daddy. Everything’s fine.” Angelle sent him a pointed look, one that she then turned on Brady and the rest of her family. “I’m a big girl, y’all. This is between Cane and me. Couples fight. Troy, the scraps you and Eva have gotten into are legendary. Now, the two of us are going to go talk. Alone. Then I expect we’re all going to enjoy the festival. Okay?”
Cane couldn’t deny he was impressed. A quick glance at her family proved he wasn’t the only one. This wasn’t the woman who’d once startled at her own shadow. Or apologized after tripping over her own two feet. The Angelle with a fisted hand on her jutted out, jean-clad hip wasn’t petite fille, or Little Red, or Awkward Angie, the name Cane had heard whispered the last couple of days. She had a backbone and a voice and fire shooting out of her eyes. Fire she directed at him before nodding toward the edge of the field. “Come on.”
Cautious optimism grew as he fell in step beside her. Angelle could’ve sent h
im packing. She could’ve asked one of her bodyguards to toss him on his ass. But she hadn’t. She was going to hear him out.
Cane wasn’t an idiot. He knew this was bad. But if she was willing to listen, maybe he could fix it. Make it right. Salvage something. He had to believe that, because after almost four hours driving round trip, he’d come to one overwhelming conclusion.
He needed Angelle. Not in a relationship, but in his life. Plain and simple.
Cane wasn’t white picket fences and forever. If they were together the way she thought she wanted, he’d destroy her in the end. Look at what he’d already done, and that was while he was trying to protect her. But if Angelle could forgive him, if she could give him another chance, he’d be the best damn friend she’d ever had. He’d make sure no one else hurt her the way he had.
At the edge of the crowd, she turned to him. The hellcat was gone and her eyes were full of tears. His optimism went to hell. Raising her left hand, the one that held his mother’s ring, she glanced at it and said, “I’m gonna make this real easy. You got what you came for, and I all but begged you for it. So let’s not make a big deal out of this.”
Falling tears betrayed her confident words. They rooted Cane to the ground, rendering him speechless. Any woman crying made him feel helpless, but this was Angelle. And she was crying because of him. That knowledge cut deeper than anything he could’ve imagined.
With a watery laugh, Angelle shrugged. “I should probably be thanking you, right? I mean, I got what I wanted, too. I was curious about passion, and you taught me. I couldn’t have asked for a better tutor, so really, I’m lucky. I was just the idiot who forgot it was all a game.” With another fake laugh, she rolled her tear-filled eyes. “Guess that’s another thing to thank you for, then. You taught me exactly how naïve I am. So thank you, Cane. It’s been an education.”
Angelle’s mouth tightened, her lips trying for a brave smile. The result was so far from its normal radiance it was a mockery.
Self-hate burned the back of his throat. Swallowing past the rising bile, he shook his head. “Naïve? You have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. You see the good in people, even when they don’t have any. You’re open and honest and care deeply. That’s not naïve.” Giving in to the fierce need to touch her, Cane stepped forward and cupped her cheek, wiping his thumb at the tears still falling. He searched her eyes, wanting to know she was listening. “Angel, that’s beautiful.”
Her face tightened in pain as she squeezed her eyes shut. For a brief moment, she leaned into his touch, and Cane considered pulling her into his arms like he so badly wanted to do. But then, her sad eyes opened. “Well, that beautiful heart is broken.”
The words were a knife straight to his heart. Emotions too many to name churned in his gut, but all of them scared him shitless. And when Angelle’s gaze dropped to her hand, and she began wiggling his mother’s ring from her finger, true fear joined the mix.
He closed his hand around hers. “No.”
She raised her eyes to his, clearly confused. “I’m letting you off the hook, Cane. Take it.”
If he took back that ring, Cane knew it was over. The hoax. The fake engagement. Even the tentative friendship they’d begun to build. That ring symbolized so much more than their ruse, and every bone in his body screamed not to let her walk away until he’d made this right. But causing a scene wasn’t Angelle’s style. She’d rather be flayed alive than have any more of her dirty laundry aired in public. He’d caused her enough pain already; the least he could do was give her space now.
She knew he was here. He’d make sure she knew he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d leave for now and regroup…
But he’d be damned if that ring left her pretty finger.
“I don’t want the ring back, angel.” Cane gently pushed the band over her knuckle, then grasped her fingers in his. “We don’t have to do this now. I’ll give you space if that’s what you need. But I honor my commitments, and I gave you my word. I’m your man this week, and we’re seeing this fake engagement through.” He paused to let her process then added, “I also gave my word about the parade tomorrow.”
Eyebrows furrowed, Angelle studied his face. “Brady already said he’d do it.”
“Like hell he will,” Cane spat. She flinched, and immediately he regretted his tone. It’d been automatic. Brady wasn’t fooling anyone. It was clear what he wanted, but he needed to stay the hell out of Cane’s business. For the next few days, that was Angelle. “I’m Papa Noel, and I’ll be there tomorrow. You can count on that.” Wanting to see her smile again, even if just for a moment, he added, “I’ll be the guy in the bright red suit.”
It took longer than he’d hoped, but the smallest of smiles twitched her lips. It felt like he’d won the lottery. It might not be much of a victory, but at this point, he’d take it. “You and I will talk then.”
“Maybe.” Angelle rocked back on the heel of her boots, her lower lip trapped between her teeth. Eyes that had once gazed at him with desire and humor now swirled with doubt and confusion. If he wanted her to trust him again, he’d have to earn it. That was fine by him. She was worth it. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”
He nodded, and after a silent moment, Angelle walked back to her waiting family. They immediately enclosed her in a circle of protection, and he caught snippets of her whiskey voice assuring them she was okay. That they were okay, just taking a breather. Even while knowing she was covering for their ruse, Cane hoped it was the truth. After she accepted a hug from her brothers and an all-too-eager ex, Angelle left the field with her family. Lacey and Eva flanked her on either side. She never once glanced back.
Cane stood there watching, regret threatening to swallow him whole. A throbbing ache pulsed in his chest. Fisting a hand, he rubbed the spot Angelle kissed moments before his life went to hell. Finally, when he got tired of the pitying looks from the lingering crowd, he began the trek to get his costume.
It was going to be a long day.
Chapter Sixteen
The sliding glass door of Holiday Inn opened and warm air hit Cane in the face. Hands empty because his luggage was still at Angelle’s, he strode into the lobby. He’d driven aimlessly for twenty minutes—no real destination or goal in mind, other than giving Angelle space. Eventually he’d headed here, knowing he couldn’t go back to her parents’ house, and refusing to leave town again. He was staying, and he was going to fix this. How was still a mystery, but he had almost twenty-four hours to figure it out.
“Can I help you?”
Cane blinked, realizing he was standing like a mute jackass at the front desk. “Yeah,” he answered, taking out his wallet. “I need a room.”
Sliding his license and credit card onto the counter, Cane set his elbow on the edge and squeezed his temples. Lifeless green eyes and a broken smile stared from behind his eyelids. The signs of his handiwork. The taste of cherry lingered on his tongue. The scent of sunflowers laced with vanilla haunted him. And the sound of her voice rang in his ears: Well, that beautiful heart is broken.
Stabbing pain, every time.
An ache emanated from deep within his chest, not unlike when one of the guys in class threw him to the ground or caught him with a sucker-punch. His lungs felt restricted, like he couldn’t draw a deep breath—but he’d be damned if he lost his shit in a Holiday Inn lobby. Scrubbing a hand over his face, Cane clamped his molars and stood up.
“Room 212, sir,” the man said, sliding Cane his credit card, license, and room key. “Here’s your key card, and your room’s right off the elevator.” He jutted his thumb behind him, and Cane mumbled his thanks.
The entire way up, he didn’t see the elevator, or the plush carpet, or the long hall of rooms. He thought about her face as she walked away. Ever since he’d arrived in Bon Terre, Cane’s life had been spinning out of control. He’d done the very things he’d sworn he would never do: he’d gotten attached, he’d let someone get too close, and then, he’d taken the heart of
a good and loving woman, and crushed it.
Like father, like son.
His buzzing cell phone yanked Cane from memories of the past. Sliding his key card into the lock, he reached in his pocket with his free hand, hoping Angelle was calling. He didn’t know what he’d say, but he wanted to hear her voice all the same. Yanking out his phone, he glanced at the screen, let out a breath, and opened the door. “What’s up man?”
“Quick question about the wedding.”
Jason’s good-natured laugh rumbled over the other end, and despite his sour mood, Cane felt a smile tug at his lips. He tossed his keys and wallet onto the nightstand and fell onto the bed.
His sister was a wedding-obsessed nut. If it wasn’t invitations, she was stressing over flower arrangements. She’d even made him suffer through a conversation over whether or not the men should wear a tie or a bowtie during the ceremony. For the record, Cane didn’t care. As long as his sister’s smile lit up the chapel, that’s all that mattered.
Colby, however, saw things differently. And right now, Cane was grateful for the distraction. “What is it this time?” he asked.
“Colby’s changed her mind, again.” The sound of a slap, no doubt from Colby swatting her fiancé’s arm, snapped across the line, and Jason laughed. “Now it’s the restaurant after the rehearsal. They need a final head count by tonight. It’s just immediate family, but Colby thought you might want a plus one.”
His sister’s raised voice chimed in, “A certain redheaded fiancée, perhaps?”
And that distraction Cane had been so desperate for vanished.
Another matchmaking attempt. This was not what he needed right now. Jaw clenched, he counted to five then said, “The restaurant needed to know, huh?” Cane heard the undisguised frustration bleeding into his tone, but damn. “Maybe you can tell the restaurant to mind their damn business.”
Jason made a noise in his throat, then he said, “Hang on a minute.”
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