“That’s—well, I don’t even have words for what that is. You know it’s not normal, right?”
Tarun shrugged. “Maybe not to most, but it’s our normal.”
Well, she couldn’t argue with that. She ate her last bite of lasagna, sighing in satisfaction. She’d cooked it quite a few times, but she had to admit that was probably the best she ever made.
“Here, let me get you another slice,” Jameson said, reaching for the spatula.
Laughing, she shook her head quickly. “No, thanks. I’m stuffed. You gave me a really big slice.”
He let his hand hover over the pan as he looked at her. “Are you sure? Although I see a pie sitting on the counter. Maybe you can have a slice of that, instead.”
Brow furrowing, she studied him, wondering why he was trying so hard to get her to eat more. He hadn’t said a word about how much she ate yesterday. It took a moment, but realization dawned. This was because he now knew she was pregnant. She didn’t know whether she was upset, exasperated, or touched.
Maybe a little of each. She wasn’t a child—she knew to keep herself fed. And what was next? Trying to do her cleaning for her so she didn’t try to do too much?
But she couldn’t remember the last time anyone looked out for her, or made sure she took care of herself. Certainly none of her foster parents had, and it never would have crossed Winston’s mind. To them, she was basically put on this Earth to serve them. Making sure she was well fed and taken care of never entered into the equation.
Her heart warmed a little over his concern, and she shifted uncomfortably on her chair. She wasn’t a fan of that reaction, at all, but maybe it was understandable. And she was sure it wasn’t because the concern came from him. She would have felt the same no matter who it came from.
“I’m going to stay with Anaya again tonight. Maybe even for the rest of the week, until we get the hang of things at work. We’re kind of clinging to each other at work right now, and it makes the nerves easier if we go in together,” Tarun said, her grimace speaking to how much she didn’t like admitting to nerves, or to needing her friend.
“I won’t tell you to not stay up all night this time.” Jameson winked at his sister.
“Please. We couldn’t even if we wanted to. She’s just as tired as I am. I’m going to pack a bag and head on out.”
“Let me know what Kian says tomorrow, okay?”
“You got it.”
Tarun kissed his cheek again and waved at Cadence before leaving the kitchen. “So, um, do you want some pie? It’s cherry.”
He rubbed his stomach, glancing from his empty plate to the pie on the counter, expression torn. “I’m pretty full, so I might regret this later, but yeah, I’ll take a slice. I’d offer to get it, but I know you’ll just say it’s your job. Just don’t make it a big slice, yeah? I can’t fit much more in.”
Laughing, she took their plates to the sink and sliced the pie, putting a small piece on his plate. Handing it to him, she started to pick up the lasagna pan, pausing as he spoke.
“Aren’t you going to eat some, too?”
“Like I said earlier, I’m pretty full. I’ll get a slice later, though.”
“Make sure you do. You need to eat more.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
Freezing with his fork halfway to his mouth, he looked over at her as she put the pan on the counter and turned to look at him. “I didn’t mean that like it sounded.”
“Oh, really.”
“Okay, maybe I did, but you’re skinny, and it’s obvious you’re short on money. I just want to make sure you eat all you can while you’re here.”
Propping her hands on her hips, she stared at him incredulously. “First of all, how do you know I’m not naturally skinny? Maybe I’m one of those people who eat all the time and never gain weight. Or maybe I don’t want to gain weight. Maybe I like the way I look. You don’t know me.” His lips tightened and he seemed to be struggling to find words. “Oh, just say it.”
“It’s just, you’re pregnant. You’re eating for two. Food isn’t something you should be skimping on, no matter the reason. But especially if it’s because you don’t want to gain weight.”
“Okay, first of all, no one is more aware than I am that I’m pregnant. The reminder isn’t needed. Second, I’m not trying to keep from gaining weight. You’re right, money is tight, and I can’t always afford a lot of food. But still, I eat as much as I can afford to. Third, absolutely none of this is your business in any way, shape, or form.”
She was feeling pretty damned proud of standing up for herself with him, a man, until he shoved his chair back and stood, rounding the table in her direction. And then her heart skittered, pulse racing with fear and palms turning clammy, and she hastily took a few steps the other direction, almost tripping over her feet.
Halting abruptly, he studied her as he slowly raised his hands. “I wasn’t going to do anything. Just get a glass of tea. The pitcher’s empty.”
Glancing down, she noticed the glass in his hand for the first time and squeezed her eyes shut, mortified heat flooding her cheeks. Fuck. Talk about an overreaction, but dammit it, she couldn’t help it.
“Oh, yeah, I know. I was just getting out of your way,” she replied, despite the fact that she’d moved in front of the fridge. As casually as she was able, she moved further aside, praying he didn’t say anything else about it. To her immense relief, he watched her for a moment, a thousand questions in his dark blue eyes, before clearing his throat and not asking the questions she knew he wanted to.
“I didn’t mean to sound overbearing, at all. It’s not my place to question your eating habits, I know that. I just want to make sure you and the baby get what you need.”
Taking a deep breath, she walked to the table to get the dirty glasses and Tarun’s plate. “We do. But I eat three times a day. And trust me, we’re better off having a little less food than we would be if I couldn’t make it where I need to go. That holds a lot more danger.”
He sipped his tea, frowning as he watched her, making sure he moved and put enough distance between them for her to feel comfortable putting the dishes in the sink. She cursed the way her mouth seemed intent on giving him more information than he needed, sure he’d ask about her danger comment, but he let it pass.
“Could you stay here for a while? Get a job, replenish your money, at least enough that you can eat as much as you’d like on the rest of your journey. Durga isn’t on any maps, so if you’re worried about someone finding you, the odds of that are nonexistent.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Besides, you were just talking about how hard it is for a woman to find work here a few minutes ago.”
He shook his head. “It’s getting better. A lot of businesses have opened their doors to women. I’m sure we could find you something. What did you do before?”
She froze, her mind racing. She couldn’t tell him she was a stripper. She doubted a place like this had a strip club, anyway, and it’s not like she could strip in her condition. Besides, that was in her past, and had no place in her future. And although she hadn’t advertised what she was, and had never liked it, she’d still never been ashamed of it. But for some reason, she didn’t want Jameson to know how she made her money. She never wanted him to know.
“I was in customer service,” she blurted. There, that sounded normal and respectable, and it was kind of the truth, in a twisted sort of way. But really, she could have just said waitress. Much more specific, and hell, it was actually true, although she hadn’t done it in a few years.
Thankfully, he didn’t press her for details, just nodded slowly as he thought. “Then there are plenty of jobs you can do here. I can ask around if you like.”
“No, that’s okay. I really can’t stay.”
She kind of wished she could. Weird customs aside, this place wasn’t on maps, which made it incredibly appealing. But it was too close to Tulsa. Some wouldn’t think so, but hell, look how
far away Tulsa was from Atlanta, and Winston still found her. She had to keep moving.
He frowned and started to reply, pausing when his cell phone rang. Her knees nearly went weak with relief at avoiding the discussion, and she could have kissed whoever was calling. As long as they weren’t a man. Well, no, she wouldn’t want to kiss any woman who was calling him, either. She found she didn’t like that at all.
What the hell was she thinking? She shouldn’t care at all if a woman was calling him. It wasn’t like she herself wanted him. Even if she did, she had no right to care. They hadn’t known each other long at all. And he was a handsome man. Of course he had women after him. He had a life before she showed up. Maybe even a girlfriend. It was a good thing, she tried to tell herself. It made her life easier, because maybe, just maybe, he was one of the rare men who actually cared about the woman in his life and wouldn’t pursue her because of that.
Oh, God, whose thoughts were these? Because they sure as shit didn’t sound like anything that would ever come from her.
“This is Jameson. Hey, Carlisle, what’s up? Wait, are you sure? You just said this morning that it would be Wednesday. Yeah, yeah, okay. Just let me know when it’s in, okay?”
Frowning over the part of his conversation she heard, she watched as he shoved his phone back in his pocket. It was none of her business, but she couldn’t help asking, “Are you okay? That sounded like bad news.”
Glancing over at her, he nodded his head, though he looked a little wary. Even still, she thought she saw a little relief in his blue eyes, but when she looked again, it was gone. “Yeah, I’m fine. Try not to get upset though, okay? That was Carlisle, the mechanic I told you about when we met. He said his supplier is backed up, so your radiator won’t be in Wednesday, like we thought. He said Friday at the earliest.”
“Friday?” she asked incredulously. She hadn’t planned on being here that long.
“I’m sorry, Cady. I checked with him this morning to make sure he ordered it, and I planned on staying on top of it. Please don’t be upset. There’s nothing I can do. But it’s okay. You can stay here as long as you need, so don’t worry about that, and I don’t mind you being here longer.”
Cady hesitated before she spoke, searching deep for the irritation or anger at the delay she should be feeling. But it was surprisingly absent. All she could find was a thread of relief she wasn’t sure she understood, and a bit of fear she understood all too well. Staying here, so close to Tulsa, left her vulnerable in a way she hated.
“It’s okay, I’m not mad. A little frustrated with the delay, but not upset. But it’s not your fault, or even Carlisle’s. Don’t worry about it. Besides, it gives me more time to earn my keep, labor, and parts.”
Relief flashed across his features. “I’m glad you’re not upset. I was sure you would be. Since you’re staying longer, do you have anything else you’d like me to bring in from your car?”
Honestly, there was nothing she needed, but all her worldly goods were in the back seat. And this neighborhood looked really nice, but she didn’t know the crime rate in Durga Valley. She’d be crushed if she lost the contents of her box.
“I’m not worried about the bag, since it’s full of clothes I can’t wear anymore. But if you could bring the box in, that’d be great.”
He nodded. “I’ll bring it right in.”
Watching as he walked away, she frowned as she went back to doing the dishes. There were so many things she should be thinking about right now, so many concerns. But all she could do was wonder, over and over, why she wasn’t freaking out about staying here longer.
Jameson walked outside and paused with his back leaning against the door. There was a big part of him that wanted to find Carlisle and give him a big, sloppy kiss. Jameson was usually annoyed with the way there always seemed to be delays in getting car parts in, but this was perfect. It meant he had two extra days, three if he stretched out installing the radiator, to convince Cady to stay.
Ultimately, he wanted her in his life forever, of course. Wanted to mate her. To be a father to the baby she carried. But he couldn’t do any of that if she took off. Staying, even if she didn’t accept his suit any time soon, was still a huge step in the right direction.
He almost blew it. Came very close with his talk of how she needed to eat more, and he was surprised she hadn’t hauled off and slapped him for his words. He definitely deserved it. She might be his mate, but they hadn’t known each other long. It wasn’t his place to tell her what and when to eat. He thought maybe she wanted to slug him, and he found himself wishing fiercely she had. Because that would mean she didn’t have the hang up she had with men, that they didn’t make her nervous or scare her.
When he stood up to get a drink, the fear in her eyes and the way she almost tripped in her haste to get away from him, broke his heart, plain and simple.
He wanted to help her get past that, but he wasn’t sure how. Just keep showing her that he, at least, wasn’t violent or threatening, was all he could think of. Spend more time with her, let her get to know him.
One thing was sure, though, he needed to slap a filter on his mouth as soon as possible. He never should have voiced his concerns about how much, or how little, as it were, she ate. His original plan was best—just keep offering her food, seconds, snacks, etcetera. He’d stick to that plan from here on out, but he was going to have to be sneakier about it now. Thanks to his big mouth, she would be on to him now. And he didn’t want to piss her off. He wanted the opposite of that.
Swinging the keys around his finger that he swiped from the hallway table, he went to her car and unlocked it. Flakes of rust floated to the driveway as he opened the door, and he shook his head. She had such a rough start to life, and it made her junky Chevy more understandable. She was kicked literally to the curb the moment she turned eighteen, and it was a testament to her hard work that she even had a car at all, no matter the condition.
Unlocking the backdoor, he pocketed her keys and gently shut the front. The box in the backseat was battered all to hell, and he hoped it would hold until he got it inside. He eased it to the edge of the seat so he could get an arm under it. It felt weighty, but he knew it wouldn’t be too heavy for him. Shifters had enhanced strength, and a box would be a breeze.
Using his hip to bump the door shut, he turned, cursing when he felt the bottom begin to give way. Moving his arms around, he shifted his grip, juggling it a little so he could keep the bottom supported. But the movement caused the top to open, ripping a little, and he cursed again as some of the contents spilled to the ground.
At least it wasn’t anything breakable, but he felt like an ass, anyway. They were her possessions, breakable or not. Looked like some papers and pictures. Crouching down, he gently sat the box down and grabbed some papers, pausing when the top one caught his eye. It was a birth certificate, from Georgia of all places. Explained her southern accent, though. Cadence Lynn Daniels. Brow twitching, he read it. Cady was clearly short for Cadence, although he’d thought it was spelled the more traditional Katie. But what was bothering him was her saying her last name was Alexander.
But fuck, that didn’t mean anything. She could have been married, and Daniels was her maiden name. Shit. Maybe that’s who she was running from. An abusive husband. She could still be married to the prick.
His blood went cold at the thought. He couldn’t pursue a married woman, even if she was running from her marriage. Even if she was his mate. But, he could help her. Give her the recourses, what she needed, to get a divorce. It would mean waiting that much longer to be with her the way he wanted, but so be it. It’s what had to happen.
He cautioned himself against getting too far ahead with his thinking. Maybe she’d been married, but was divorced now. Or maybe she legally changed her name for other reasons. It didn’t necessarily mean she was married now, or that she’d ever been.
Exhaling, he put the papers back in the box and picked up more of her stuff, pausing when he saw it was
the pictures. Glancing around, he assured himself he was hidden by the car, and not visible from the door. He felt guilty as hell, but it still didn’t stop him from looking through the pictures.
The one on top was of a younger Cady with her arm around another girl, laughing at the camera. Her clothes were threadbare, but she was happy, and he couldn’t help his smile. But it slowly faded as he saw the next picture. In this one, she was in a silky robe, her face heavily made up, in a room with lighted mirrors and other scantily clad women.
Slowly moving the picture, he tucked it behind the stack and almost reluctantly looked at the next. She was in the same room as the last, hair teased and makeup heavy, but in the place of the robe was a glittery pink and blue push up bra and matching panties, complete with garters, and insanely high heels on her feet. Flipping it over, he read the back. Cadence at The Sexy Peach.
The next few were more of the same, but then he came to one that was the same, yet different. The room was like the other, with lighted vanities, but Cady—Cadence—was more toned down, classier, in this image. Her silky dark hair was smooth and straight, falling like a waterfall over her shoulders, and her makeup was subtle and tasteful. She still wore a panty set with garters, but it covered just a tad more, and was black, not the garish colors of before, and she had a shawl draped over her arms. The shoes were the same though, although black like her outfit. When he flipped this one over, it said Cadence at Silk Silhouette.
The next few images were more of the same, some by herself, some of her laughing with other scantily clad girls. Finally putting the last of them in the box, he grasped it carefully and stood.
One thing was clear. His sweet Cady was a stripper. Or used to be a stripper, in any case. Being pregnant obviously made that career impossible, but regardless of whether she physically could now or not, he didn’t think it was ever anything she truly enjoyed. Her smile, while beautiful, hadn’t reached her eyes in any of the photographs he looked at.
Jameson (War Cats Book 3) Page 7