Be Mine in Good Hope (A Good Hope Novel Book 3)

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Be Mine in Good Hope (A Good Hope Novel Book 3) Page 18

by Cindy Kirk

“Several possibilities might work.” Doubt shimmered in her voice. “Fin also has contacts at various studios. She’s confident she can get me studio work. Marigold Bloom. Hairstylist to the stars.”

  Her laugh held a brittle edge.

  “Is that what you want?”

  “It’s what Fin wants.” A shadow passed over her face. “She’s pushing hard.”

  “She wants you close.” Cade told himself he shouldn’t resent Fin’s efforts. After all, hadn’t he tried to do the same?

  “Yes.” Marigold’s unhappy tone had his heart lurching. “She’s used to getting what she wants.”

  “Not this time.” His tone was a gruff rasp.

  She angled her head.

  “I’m certain at the end of the day, what matters to her is that you’re happy.”

  The doubtful expression on Marigold’s pretty face told him she wasn’t convinced.

  Cade leaned over and kissed her, finding her mouth warm and sweet. “Trust me on this. When you love someone, it’s their happiness that matters, not your own.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Marigold planned to ditch Cade once they reached her apartment. On their walk down to the waterfront, she’d received a text from Fin. Apparently her contact at the studio had told her they were “very interested.” Marigold could almost feel the noose tightening about her neck.

  The knowledge that Fin’s roommate had moved out a couple of months earlier, leaving space in her apartment for Marigold, only added to the pressure. She needed to decompress, to center herself.

  Yes, she had a lot on her plate.

  As if he sensed her stress, Cade kept the conversation light on the way home. They climbed the steps to her apartment in silence.

  Tell him good night and shut the door.

  Cade leaned against the doorjamb and the musky scent of his cologne teased her nostrils. As desire pooled low in her belly, the coldness that had wrapped around her like an icy glove began to thaw. She remembered how good it felt to have his arms were around her. When he was holding her close, she didn’t have to think. All she had to do was feel.

  “I’m not ready for the evening to end.” His low voice held a sexy huskiness and a question.

  Logic said to turn him away. Somehow, despite her best efforts to keep him at arm’s length, he’d managed to creep under her skin. The burgeoning closeness posed a danger.

  Not if it was only about sex.

  Before her brain could counter the point, Marigold jerked him inside and kicked the door shut. She fastened her mouth to his in a ferocious kiss.

  He answered in kind, raking his fingers through her hair and pulling her so close she felt his arousal.

  “I want it fast and hard,” she ordered when they came up for air.

  “Hard is never a problem when I’m around you.” Cade gave a half laugh as he fumbled with her clothes.

  She pushed his hands away. “You take yours. I’ll take mine. Faster that way.”

  Though the race had only started, Marigold’s breath already came in short puffs.

  There had been too much talk of family and love this evening. What she and Cade shared was all sex and passion, the here and now.

  A woman didn’t need to think, only had to feel, when the sex was hard and fast. That’s the way she wanted it, not slow and dreamy.

  Seconds after their clothes hit the floor, her mouth was hot on his. They wouldn’t make it to the bed. Fine with her. They tumbled onto the sofa, all mouths and tongues and groping hands. Her world became a kaleidoscope of pleasure, driving all thoughts from her mind.

  Yet, with him, the whirling spiral of emotions and sensations seemed profoundly different. There was chemistry between them, an intimacy and a spark she’d never experienced before with anyone else.

  Marigold rode the building pressure until their bodies were damp and sweaty, and still she clung to him. And when the combination of emotion and physical sensation sent her crashing over the edge, it seemed right to be in his arms when the world exploded.

  Afterward, Marigold simply lay there, sated and slightly dazed, naked except for the socks she hadn’t taken time to pull off. Cade’s warm body blanketed hers. When she finally opened her eyes, it was to the feel of his lips against her neck and to the murmur of words she couldn’t quite make out. Somehow, they still managed to make her uneasy.

  Pressing her hands flat against his chest, she pushed. “You’re squishing me.”

  Brushing a quick kiss across her mouth, he lifted himself up to his forearms and studied her, gray eyes boring into blue.

  She shifted her gaze, worried what he might see if he looked too closely. “That was fun, but—”

  “Grab your clothes and get out?”

  Marigold felt her face heat. “I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

  “Understood.”

  He rolled off her with the ease of an athlete.

  When he began pulling on clothes, she sat up and wrapped the cotton throw from the back of the sofa around her. “I’m not tossing you out.”

  Cade looked up from lacing his boots.

  Marigold surged to her feet.

  “I’m not tossing you out.” She repeated the words, but this time her voice cracked.

  “Hey.” Cade moved to her, then cupped her face in his hand. “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

  Marigold realized with sudden horror it was true. Worse yet, she couldn’t seem to stop.

  Ignoring her protests, he wrapped his strong arms around her and held her, simply held her close against him until the trembling subsided.

  “I won’t ask for more than you’re willing to give.” His hands moved slowly up and down her back in gentle, soothing strokes.

  The only light in the room came from the streetlamps down below and from the moon, casting its golden glow though the slats of the blinds.

  Marigold knew she should push him away. Now that her brain was firing on all circuits, she realized that’s what she’d tried—and failed—to do tonight with sex.

  Tears stung the backs of her eyes. This time, instead of pushing him away, she buried her face against his chest and held tight.

  She could no longer deny the obvious.

  She’d fallen in love with Cade Rallis.

  Marigold’s head jerked up at the sound of the bells over the doors ringing. Business this Tuesday morning had been brisk.

  Sticking her phone in her pocket, Marigold stood. “You boys hold down the fort.”

  Slouched in a chair in the back room of the salon, K.T. didn’t even glance up from his drawing pad. The brothers were out of school this week for semester break. She’d discovered them outside her front door when she arrived to open the shop.

  K.T. had arrived with his brother, bringing a sketch pad with him. Apparently Izzie wanted to see some samples of his work. Though he’d taken pictures of a few previous projects, he was determined to show her a couple of new ideas.

  Currently in the process of refining her web page, Braxton remained totally focused on her laptop screen. It hadn’t taken Marigold long to discover the boy was a perfectionist. Only after grilling her for several minutes had he started the updates.

  “Do you need anything from me?” Marigold paused at the door separating the back office from the salon.

  Braxton waved a dismissive hand and changed the color of the header, then frowned and promptly changed it back.

  K.T. lifted his head from his sketch pad. “Okay if I get another soda?”

  “Help yourself.” Marigold straightened her black tunic and stepped from the office into the main salon, pulling the door closed behind her.

  She hoped this was another walk-in, like the woman she’d finished only fifteen minutes earlier, rather than a friend wanting to chat.

  The first thing she noticed was the beautiful brunette appeared dressed for a big-city shopping-and-lunch day. Thigh-high eelskin boots showed from under a plum-colored boiled-wool coat. The second was just how very out of place Whitney Chapin l
ooked in this environment.

  “Hi, Whitney.” Marigold forced a bright smile. “How nice of you to stop by.”

  Instead of immediately returning the greeting, Whitney’s assessing gaze slowly perused the interior of the shop. When her eyes finally returned to Marigold, she saw shock and dismay in the blue depths.

  Somehow Marigold managed to keep her smile from slipping. “What can I do for you today?”

  Whitney’s gaze shifted to the poodle wallpaper, then back to Marigold.

  “I need my brows shaped.” Whitney waved a hand that held a diamond the size of Texas in the air. “Charlotte isn’t in this week. I don’t trust anyone else at Golden Door.”

  Marigold inclined her head. “Yet you’d trust me?”

  Whitney sighed. “You worked for one of the top salons in Chicago. Besides, I’m leaving for Boca in the morning and I’m desperate. I refuse to show up with shaggy brows.”

  In no universe could the woman’s brows be considered shaggy, though they could benefit from some fine-tuning.

  “I believe I can fit you in.” Marigold gestured to the chair the color of a blueberry snow cone. “Does this mean Brynn won’t be at Seedlings tomorrow?”

  “Why wouldn’t she be there?” Whitney looked puzzled, then gave a little laugh. “Oh, now I see. You thought my daughter was coming with me.”

  “I assumed it was a quick family trip.” Marigold should have realized there wouldn’t be time for the child to go all the way to Boca and back during the rest of semester break. “But it’s also nice for parents to have some alone time.”

  “David isn’t coming.” Whitney’s mouth, covered in bronze sparkly lipstick, curved. Amusement filled her gaze. “This is a girls’ trip. I plan to do some serious basking in the sun. I’m sick to death of this horrid snow.”

  Marigold kept her expression carefully blank.

  She thought of Prim and Max, whose life revolved around the twins and doing things as a family. It would be no different, she knew, for Ami and Beck once the baby arrived.

  But she wasn’t in the judging business. She was here to provide a service and earn money.

  Whitney was on her way out the door when Hadley dropped by. The two women exchanged polite smiles.

  Once the door had shut, Hadley turned to Marigold, a look of surprise on her pretty face. “I thought she only saw Charlotte.”

  “She was desperate.” Marigold’s lips twisted in a wry smile. “Charlotte is out of town and Whitney needed her brows shaped before a trip to Boca.”

  Inclining her head, Hadley frowned. “The Chapins are headed to Boca?”

  “No. Just her. Girls’ trip.” Marigold smiled thinly. “I’m all for people having their alone time, but I have to wonder how often she sees her child and her husband.”

  Hadley expelled a heavy sigh, her blue eyes resembling stormy seas. “Hardly ever.”

  Marigold thought of the years Prim had spent as a single parent. “At least Brynn has a good dad.”

  “I wanted her to have a mother, too.”

  Marigold, in the process of tidying up the station, frowned. “What did you say?”

  Hadley leaned over to organize some magazines, her hair swinging forward, hiding her face. When she straightened, her gaze was thoughtful, her tone matter-of-fact. “What I meant to say is I believe every child deserves not only a loving father, but a mother as well. Brynn is no exception. She’s been in the bakery numerous times with her dad. She seems like such a sweet little girl.”

  “She’s a great addition to our Seedling troop.” Our. Marigold realized with a start she’d just tied herself to Cade. Again.

  The door to the back flung open with a clatter.

  “Hey, we got—” Braxton stopped so abruptly that K.T. bumped into him.

  “I believe you boys know Hadley Newhouse from the bakery.”

  Braxton gave a jerky nod.

  “We’ve seen her.” K.T. shoved his hands into his pockets. “How you doin’?”

  “Stellar.” Hadley slanted a glance at Marigold. “I know Braxton and K.T. very well. Braxton likes bear claws. K.T. prefers anything jelly filled.”

  “Wish I had one now.” Braxton turned to Marigold. “The changes are done, if you want to see them.”

  “Of course I want to see.” Marigold motioned to Hadley. “Come and see. Braxton is updating my website.”

  As they stepped into the small office area in the back, Marigold’s gaze was immediately drawn to her laptop. The website he’d updated filled the screen. Only he hadn’t simply updated it, he’d changed it.

  As Marigold stared at the warm yet elegant—there was no other word for it—design, tears filled her eyes.

  “You don’t like it.” Braxton’s voice was flat.

  “I love it.” She whirled and wrapped her arms around his skinny frame, giving him a hug. “You’re a genius.”

  His face turned red as his brother hooted.

  “You did this?” Hadley turned to Braxton. “All by yourself?”

  “He helped a little with the colors.” Braxton jerked a thumb in his brother’s direction. “He’s the artist. I’m the computer genius.”

  “In your dreams.” K.T. gave his brother a shove.

  Marigold put her hands on both of the boys’ shoulders, just as she’d seen her sister do countless times when the twins got rowdy. “Both of you are extremely talented.”

  “This is really nice.” Hadley lifted her gaze from the screen. “You should show this to Ami and Beck. Their sites could use more punch.”

  Marigold turned to Braxton. “If they’re interested, do you think you’d have time?”

  She had no idea how much time Braxton’s studies and other activities took up.

  “I like earning money.” Braxton spoke with the honesty of youth. “Heck, yeah, I’m interested.”

  “I’ll speak with them,” Marigold promised.

  “Show them your site. They’ll be blown away.” Braxton’s arrogant tone had her hiding a grin. “For now I’ve set up a whole new area so it won’t interfere with your current website. Let me know if you want any final adjustments.”

  “Thank you, Braxton.” Marigold met his gaze, held it. “I appreciate it.”

  He lifted a skinny shoulder, let it drop. “No prob.”

  “Your hair looks good.” Hadley tossed out the compliment when the boys began gathering up their stuff.

  “She did it.” K.T. gestured with his head to Marigold. “We gotta go.”

  “Wait.” Marigold scrambled for her purse. “I need to pay you.”

  She pressed a hundred-dollar bill into the boy’s hand.

  Braxton’s gaze dropped. His palm remained open and he simply stared.

  “Is it enough? Your aunt told me what you charged but I think she must have gotten the price wrong. It was hardly anything.”

  K.T.’s eyes went wide at the sight of the bill sitting in his brother’s outstretched hand. “You can get those shoes you’ve been wanting, Brax.”

  Braxton’s hand closed convulsively over the bill. “With this much money, we can both get a pair.”

  For the first time Marigold notice their shoes: torn, tattered, and more suitable for summer than a Wisconsin winter. Her heart gave a lurch. “When can you finish up?”

  The brothers exchanged glances. “What about Wednesday?”

  Marigold shook her head. “That won’t work. Do you have any other night free?”

  “Mom has a new job and we have to watch the baby.” Braxton spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “How about next Saturday?”

  “I need it done before then.” Marigold already knew what Angelo would think if he pulled up her site and found it filled with references to the Steffan Oliver Salon.

  “If you’re sure you don’t want any changes, I can stay and do it now.” His unexpected smile startled her. “If you decide you want something changed later, you know where to find me.”

  “Great. Let’s go with that plan.”

  When th
e boys sat back down in front of the laptop, she and Hadley returned to the salon. Hadley brushed the strands around her face back with the palm of her hand. “Charlotte didn’t layer these enough for me.”

  “I’m not turning down business.” Marigold gestured to the shampoo bowl.

  Hadley shook her head. “Just cut it dry.”

  While Marigold preferred to cut damp hair, she draped a smock around Hadley and picked up the scissors.

  “You’re a good person.” Hadley reached over and gave Marigold’s arm a squeeze. “And you did a terrific job with their hair.”

  Back in Chicago Marigold had received more than her share of compliments and accolades. But this one felt more personal and sincere. “I’d never have been able to do it in Chicago. Cut their hair, I mean.”

  “Why not?”

  “Steffan didn’t allow us to comp cuts, even on our own time. The boys would never have been able to afford my prices.” Marigold glanced around the tiny shop. “I guess there are some benefits to being on your own, even if you’re working out of a place that looks more like a poodle parlor than a salon.”

  Hadley appeared to be hiding a smile. “Do you have big plans for Wednesday?”

  “Not really.”

  “You couldn’t meet the boys that night.”

  As she ran a comb through the strands framing Hadley’s face, Marigold assessed the cut. Hadley was right. It could benefit from a little fine-tuning. “Wednesday is the Seedlings’ meeting. Our goal is to get the kids caught up on badges by Valentine’s Day. They’re doing all this extra fundraising at various events and will be earning badges for civic involvement, so that helps.”

  “Do you have your dress?”

  Marigold blinked. “What dress?”

  Hadley rolled her eyes. “The one for the Valentine’s dance at the Bayshore.”

  For one brief moment, Marigold considered telling Hadley she’d never been a big fan of the holiday and didn’t intend to start now. But that kind of heresy might prompt a lengthy debate.

  “No dress yet.” Marigold waved an airy hand. “There’s no rush. The dance is over a month away.”

  Hadley pointed to the calendar on the wall. “Less than a month.”

  “Anyway, back to the Seedlings.” Marigold snipped a few ends, sighed. “I’d hoped Whitney was coming because we’re going to need all the extra hands we can get for our unit on rock climbing.”

 

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