Love Is An Action (What Love Is #1)

by Bry Foster

  Cash chuckles deeply as he embraces her. When they pull away she frames his face with her hands and then kisses both of his cheeks again. During the entire encounter she never stops talking.

  Cash pulls away from her and grabs one of her hands before pointing to each of us and speaking to her in fluent French. The driver sets the last bag on the marble floor and closes the door behind him. The woman smiles at all of us, saying bonjour before speaking to the driver and pointing to the kitchen. She and Cash talk again and he shakes his head before shooing her off in the direction she came.

  “That was Francesca. She has been the family nanny since Theo was in diapers. She doesn’t speak any English but she is pleased to meet you all.” He informs us. “Jasmine, if you would like some coffee, you can follow them to the kitchen, otherwise, I told her that I would take everyone to their rooms.”

  “Rooms would be fine. I am beat.” Jasmine says while stifling a yawn.

  “Well, follow me. I will give you all a tour tomorrow if you would like.” He says grabbing a few of our bags and dragging them up the beautifully designed marble staircase.

  When we get to the top, there is a sitting room with furniture that looks so delicate I am almost sure that it has never been used for anything other than decoration. The hallways are longer than I had expected upon first glance. There must be at least ten rooms up here.

  “Would you like to share rooms or have your own?” He asks us. I know that I do not want to be on my own, in a different country, with a family of people that hate me. But, I am not sure how to say this to Cash without sounding like a baby.

  “Definitely shared rooms.” Liz says as she glances around. I know what ya mean sister!

  “Great. Jasmine, what about you? Shared?”

  “Whatever is more comfortable for everyone.”

  “I will put you and Liz together then. That way we can stay on my end if you need anything.” Oh no. I am going to have to sleep by myself.

  Cash leads us almost all the way to the end of the hall before pushing open a room door and dragging Jasmine and Liz’s bags in. The room is bigger than Jasmine’s front room back in Louisiana. There is a floor to ceiling window on the far wall of the room. A delicate looking queen sized bed with a canopy sits raised up, in the middle of the back wall. Long, thick, drapes hang from the windows and brush the floor of the room. A few decorative chairs are neatly arranged around the room as well as a couple of plants.

  White and gold silk bedding lies on the bed. The entire room is as regal as the rest of the house and I cannot imagine someone living like this after what I have become accustomed to.

  “I hope you will be comfortable here. I know it looks a bit stuffy but do not worry. I have planned to keep us away from the house as often as possible during our stay.”

  “Wow. Thanks Cash.” Liz says as she walks around the room, brushing her fingers gently over every surface of the room before sitting on the edge of the bed. “Bathroom?”

  “There is an ensuite bathroom just through that door.” Cash points to the door and Liz gets up to go.

  “Cashel, would you mind giving Tomas the address here? I hope it is not too much of an inconvenience but, he would like to show me around while we are here.” Jasmine asks, handing Cash her phone. Jasmine kisses me and squeezes me before Cash and I leave the room.

  I’m trying to work up the nerve to tell Cash I do not want to sleep by myself here.

  “Then there were two.” Cash says with a smile before taking me all the way to the end of the hall and opening the last door on the right. It is just adjacent to the room that we left Liz and Jasmine in, which gives me a little comfort. He pushes the room door open and I am still shocked to see how opulent it is. This one has a king sized bed and a very large floor to ceiling window covered by double the amount of drapes that Liz and Jasmine’s room had. A large white and blue damask rug is in front of the bed. A glass chandelier hangs from the ceiling above the bed and a nightstand sits on each side. Black bedding lies on the bed. There is a full couch at the end of it and two other chairs on each opposing wall.

  “Wow. If all of your guests stay in rooms like these, I can’t imagine why anyone would want to leave.”

  “Then why does your face say you want to run?” Cash asks me bluntly. So bluntly in fact that his question catches me completely off guard. I look at him dumbfounded.

  “What?” He chuckles and guides me further into the room so he can close the door behind me.

  “You look like you want to sprint out of here as fast as your legs will carry you.”

  “Oh.” I swallow harshly. “Of course not…” I say but all I can think about is the morning that he and Corisande showed up at my house to take me to New York. Or every time Cash has ever taken me home after school. What must he think of me?

  “Hey.” Cash says and I drag my eyes away from the splendor of the room to look at the anxiety in those soul sucking ivy greens of his. “Are you well?”

  I nod. And blink, and then nod again. “Yes, just a little tired from the flight I guess.” I say lamely. Cash looks a little crestfallen.

  “Right. Of course, I am so sorry. I was so excited about showing you around my room that I forgot this might be a lot to take in after such a trip.” My eyes nearly fall out of my head.

  “Wait, your room? This is your room?”

  “Yes. You didn’t notice the pictures?” I look around again and sure enough there are two framed pictures. Both contain a younger Cash, with spiky hair and brooding eyes. Next to him in one picture is a boy about the same size as him with blue eyes and canary hair. They both have helmets under their arms and a dirt mound behind them. They can’t be older than ten years old. They look so adorable.

  The next picture is another of Cash but he is younger. Next to him is an older boy with golden brown hair and dark eyes. I think it’s Theo. The two of them are in soccer clothing. I guess it runs in the family.

  “Go ahead and change in the bathroom. I’ll go after you.” Cash tells me. I twist my lips as I look around the room again. “What is it now?” Cash asks as he puts his hands on each side of my arms. I won’t be able to concentrate if he is going to keep touching me. In his room no less.

  “So. We are staying in your room together?”

  “Well you are my fiancé. Unless you would like your own room. Which can be arranged. There are at least two that are not taken.” I shake my head.

  “No, it’s fine. I just…when you asked if we wanted to share I thought I was going to end up on my own.”

  “Why would I put you somewhere else when I can have you all to myself here?” Cash asks before leaning down and brushing his lips over mine. Is he joking? Either way this huge room just got extremely crowded with just the two of us and the temperature has elevated. I clear my throat when he pulls away and touch my still tingling lips with the tips of my fingers.

  “Bathroom?” I ask in a high pitched voice. He smirks at me. I hate that he knows that he affects me this way. I wish I could do the same to him. I drag my suit case behind me into the bathroom and then glance around. Is nothing of modest size here? More marble coats every surface of it. Two marble steps lead up to a bathtub and across from the tub and sink there is a stand in, glass shower. A window sits well above the bathtub and showcases the moon in the night sky.

  After having to ask for Cash’s help on how to work the shower, I climb in and wash the day off of me. I try not to think about anything but relaxing. I climb out, dry off, moisturize and then brush my teeth after putting on my pajamas. When I go into the room, Cash has turned down the bed for me and I climb in as we exchange places. He goes into the bathroom and I fall back on the bed, trying to go to sleep but I can’t.

  Before I know it, Cash leaves the bathroom, a towel around his waist. His lean body is dripping with water as he makes his way from the bathroom to the closet. He returns to the bed, mostly dried off with only pajama bottoms on. He climbs in and lies down. After a few moments, I am surpr
ised to hear him say, “Tell me about your parents.” The words are whispered in to the quiet night. I suck in a deep breath and remember the promise I made to myself. I have to be more open.

  I breathe out deeply again, hoping the inflating of my lungs will make this conversation easier. I wrap my hands around the plush blanket. Cash rolls closer to me and then sits up slightly, resting his head on his arm on a propped up elbow.

  “I’ve never really felt like I was a part of anyone’s life that didn’t feel like I was a burden to them. I’ve never really felt accepted by anyone unconditionally, besides Liz and Jasmine. Even with my dad. I feel like I do more for him than he does for me. Sometimes I wonder if I didn’t do all of the things I do to keep my dad and I above water, would he even come home to the apartment, or would he let me fend for myself? That’s been one of the many questions I wish I knew the answer to.” The last part comes out as a whisper. “My mom,” I swallow harshly, trying to keep the frog in my throat from interrupting what really needs to be said. “My mom left my dad and me when I was still in elementary school. I don’t remember much about her at all. I know what she looked like. My father used to keep her picture in a beat up black leather wallet. Even when there was no money or working credit cards in that thing her picture was in there.” I mumble in disbelief and shake my head at the thought of it.

  “He drove himself crazy when she left. I think at first he may have started drinking to take the edge off, you know? I mean, 26 year old man, stuck with a daughter, too proud to ask his family for help. I had to give him credit for trying. That is, until he just stopped making an effort. He stopped putting on a front that he probably thought would keep my mom around if she ever came looking for us. He gave up.” Cash stays quiet while I find my words.

  “I remember one day, I came home and found him in a puddle of his own sick. I think I may have been in the fifth grade. I remember thinking for the first time that something might seriously be wrong with my dad. I mean, I was only 10 years old, but looking at him that day – I freaked. I ran to an elderly neighbor of ours next door. At that time we were living in southern California staying on a second floor apartment. Mrs. Addison was a widow. She had a grandson attending UCLA that used to come by and check on her often. He happened to be there that day and answered the door. He followed me back to our apartment and helped get my dad up and cleaned up. He changed my dad’s shirt and threw it out and then got him into his bedroom.”

  “I still remember the look on his face when he closed my father’s room door behind him. He looked at me with such… pity…such sorrow.” I shake my head and wipe the small stream traveling down towards my ears. “From that day on, things got worse. Over time I stopped needing help from others. I never mentioned a thing to a teacher or a neighbor that didn’t know what I was dealing with. My grandparents, when they came to visit once, I spilled the beans to them. That night, while I was in my bedroom I heard them all shouting. My grandparents and my dad, they threatened to take me away from him. He refused. The next thing I know, we were on the first bus smoking to Louisiana.”

  I don’t know when Cash’s arm wrapped around me, but once I notice it, I sink into his embrace and let it comfort me. I inhale the warm smell of him.

  “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Beauté. I cannot believe how strong you are.” I feel my eyebrows pinch again. I don’t know how any of this makes me strong, if anything I feel like it makes me that much more of an idiot for not speaking out to anyone. Not letting my teachers or the neighbors or even my grandparents, know about the situation sooner not only risked my own life, but it may be ending my father’s. I don’t say any of that to Cash though. I just shrug.

  “You think so highly of me. I’ll never understand why. But, I just want you to understand me a little more. I feel like I owe you that much at least.” Cash slips his hand under my chin and tilts it up to him again. It feels like my room all over again and warmth spreads through me as I hope this conversation ends the same way.

  “You do not owe me anything. Still, I love that you finally feel comfortable enough with me to let me in. I think you have the most beautiful soul, you hide it well from others, but I see you even if you try your best to keep me from doing so.” He says. I smile, feeling a tear slip over my top lip. I lick the salty bud unconsciously and push Cash’s shoulder gently.

  “I’ve never been so attracted to someone that infuriates me so easily in my life.” I say. Cash throws his head back and laughs and I tilt my head to watch him. Even in the night I can see his outline. His Adam’s apple bobs as he laughs and I find the action charming. I want to run my hand along the scruff on his jaw.

  “I’m not sure if that is a compliment or an insult. However, if that is you finally admitting that you feel something for me other than complete contempt, I will take it.” He tells me, laughter still alight in his bright eyes.

  You can do this. “I…I care about you Cash. You mean a lot to me.” I can’t believe I really said that. Out loud. To him. Butterflies flutter harshly in my stomach and my eyes grow wide as the laughter in his eyes dies out. I look away when he opens his mouth.

  “You have no idea how long I have waited to hear you say that to me.” He whispers so lowly that I am almost unsure he said it. Between his whispered tone and the pounding of my heart between my ears I almost miss it. I glance at him quickly, shyly.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously. I’ve looked at you as more than a friend for a long time, Khloe. Although, I think it may make marrying me a little odd.” I have to laugh now.

  “Oh, so when we were enemies getting married, this made complete sense but now that we’ve admitted we feel something for each other it’s odd?” I repeat the word in his accent.

  “I rather like the thought of us being enemies. Am I trying to infiltrate your system? Are we spies sent from different countries?”

  “This sounds more like some kind of perverse sexual game than an actual plot in our lives.” I whisper, watching his lips.

  Cash dips his face towards mine and leisurely kisses me. Although the pace is slow my heart still races and pounds. I push a hand through his hair and scoot closer to him so that our thighs touch. I slow down the kiss and then pull away with a flirty smile.

  “It’s my turn to ask some questions.” I whisper into the dark of his room. Cash’s arm wrapped behind me provides more warmth than the blanket does.

  “All right. What do you want to know?” He whispers back. The arm that is not wrapped around me sits between us and he lazily runs his fingers up and down my leg, partially distracting me from the task at hand.

  “Do you have a lot of friends in Paris? I mean, the fact that Lena Le Roux is your mother, does that make it easier or harder to make friends?” He gives a small exhale.

  “I thought I had a lot of friends.” He pauses and I don’t say anything, hoping that he will continue to share little intimate details about himself that make Cash…Cash. “Between football and attending the most elite school in the city, I was used to being around a lot of people who kind of understood my situation. I went to school with the children of athletes, famous musicians, movie stars.”

  “In fact, my best friend Noa is the son of Annalise Dubois. She’s one of the most sought after actresses in Europe. That’s how we met. We’ve been to all of the same schools since what you would call kindergarten. He and I got into so much mischief here.” He sighs nostalgically. “We were always at parties. Not just high school or academy parties. We went to all kinds of after award show parties and such. Though my family had high expectations of me, I wasn’t held by as many standards as my brother. I had more freedom—before my mère’s new relationship. After my papa passed…I kind of lost my way for a while. I stopped attending classes regularly and parties became a nightly thing…not just the weekends. And then my mère announced her engagement and the media went mad. Noa was the only person that still called to check on me. When things got even worse and I had to leave
for the States, Noa gave me the talking to of my life.” He pauses and a smile ghosting his lips.

  “Do you still talk to him?”

  “Of course. He knows about you.” My cheeks warm and I tilt my head up so that I can look at him when I ask the next question.

  “Really? What did you tell him? That I’m the girl you’re marrying to spite your family?”

  “He knows about the arrangement. He knows more too.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Really.” He watches my mouth when I speak causing me to lick my lips. He leans down and pulls it into his mouth, biting down on it a bit and I groan as I shift my body a little. He starts to back off but I tangle my hands in his hair and pull him closer to me. The heat of his body presses into mine. Cash shifts so that he’s on top of me and I inhale harshly.

  The length of him pushes into me and push up against him and then sigh in the back of my throat.

  Cash grasps my hip. Stopping me from bucking up into him—which I hadn’t noticed I was doing. He backs away from me just enough to look into my eyes.

  “I want you so bad that I can’t see straight.” His voice is husky and it makes me bite my lip. He leans down and plucks it from my mouth. “Don’t do that while I’m trying to think.” He says.

  “Think about what?” I don’t even recognize my voice.

  “About all the perfect ways I imagined this moment.” I smile.

  “Anyway this moment happens—as long as I’m with you, will be perfect.” I say surprising both of us. He stares into my eyes for a moment before shifting off of me.

  “I know how you are about actions. I want to show you how much I love you this way and many others but I want you to believe me. If I take you now, in the morning you’ll second guess whether or not I still want you. I don’t want you to have any regrets when that moment comes.” I sigh in defeat and frustration and he laughs. “But that moment is coming, Beauté. And soon, so will you.” He shifts off of me and brings me into him.