Impulse (New Adult Romance)

by C. J. Lake

  “You swear?” Cady mumbled hopefully, suddenly feeling more like an adolescent than an adult.

  Hortense continued, “Your father and I were going through the motions for a long time before the divorce punctuated the end of things between us. And if he's honest with himself, he'll admit that—and not continue to act like it came out of nowhere. That said, I did not leave him for another man.”

  It wasn't the most precise answer; Hortense hadn't offered a clear timeline of when she'd met this guy, Rodrigo. Was it in Greece? Or had they planned to go on the dig together?

  Suddenly Cady realized that she honestly didn't want to dig any deeper than that. If her mom said that she was not unfaithful, Cady would choose to believe her, because why believe the alternative?

  Still, she was confused. “Just tell me one thing, Mom. Why have you been all up in dad's grill about him moving on with Linda if you've moved on, too?”

  “I was only trying to help,” as though it should all be obvious. “Marriage is a serious legal commitment.”

  “But you acted almost jealous—”

  “I was not jealous!” Hortense declared. Her outburst was followed with a heavy sigh, and a pause—Hortense's version of a reset. “Look, I had no intention of trying to win your father back, if that's what you were thinking. Or hoping. Really, Cadence, you mustn't be so childish about this.” Cady swallowed hard, forcing a lump down, feeling the corners of her eyes burn. She had to keep her tears back, because how childish would it be if she cried on top of it?

  Don't cry, she willed herself, the tip of her nose stinging, do NOT cry.

  Her over-emotional response made no logical sense and yet, in that second, she couldn't help longing for a different kind of mother. Not actually a different mother—but a wholly new temperament to go with this one. Warmer, softer, more of a hugger, less of an educator. But then, maybe Hortense wished for Cady to be different, too. Less nostalgic, less English major-y, fewer film classes.

  “I didn't tell you about Rodrigo, because I don't know where it will go, if anywhere,” Hortense said. “I wanted to be cautious.”

  “Fine, I...I understand,” Cady said. Only after she'd uttered the words did she realize that she should actually appreciate her mom’s discretion. Think about it: if Hortense were the open, effusive, impetuous type, Cady might be dealing with two insane weddings at the moment, instead of just one.

  “I do hope you're not angry with me,” Hortense remarked, nudging her thick glasses higher on her nose.

  “I'm not,” Cady assured her, even though there was still a trace of defeat in her voice. “I'm not mad—I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, too,” Hortense agreed.

  “But be careful with this guy,” Cady warned.

  “Of course; I'm always careful.”

  “True.”

  “Now we'll talk soon,” Hortense assured her, encircling Cady in a longer embrace this time. Instinctively, then, Cady sank into the hug like she was a little girl again. No matter what, this was her mom.

  ~

  Later that night, when she and Torie were sharing a mammoth maple cookie at Midnite Bakery, Torie was offering some perspective while Cady vented:

  “I know my mom claims that I misinterpreted everything and she was always just looking out for my dad, with no other personal interest, but she really did seem jealous, Tor!”

  “Definitely,” Torie commiserated, throwing in some supportive nodding. “That phase of the moon thing you told me about? That was pretty savage.”

  “Exactly! She was coming unglued,” Cady insisted. “Although, according to her, that was just my childish interpretation and I’m basically a big baby who should star in a sequel to The Parent Trap.”

  Torie burst out a laugh at that. “C’mon, that’s not quite what she said!”

  Cady smirked. “Close enough.”

  “You know what I think?”

  “What?”

  “Well, first of all, sorry to say, but I don’t see a theatrical career for you,” she commented glibly, crinkling the wax paper cookie wrapper and setting it aside. “Now, as for your mom, I think that she was freaking out about your dad and Linda. For the first time, she wasn't the queen bee in your dad's life—and it had her shook. Which had her acting irrationally.”

  “Yes...” Cady agreed, nodding.

  “Now that she came, your mom saw Linda in person and realized that her control with your dad is gone. And she got a handle on the whole thing. That's why she's dropping all the anti-Linda stealth ops and nonsense. It's over.” Torie's voice gentled a bit as she added, “I'm sorry to say that I don't think she was ever seriously considering getting back with your dad. That wasn't even on the table.”

  “So, it was just a slight meltdown that was basically ego-driven?” Cady asked, despite knowing the answer.

  “Yeah. Your mom snapped—briefly—but now she's moving forward. Cady, that's a good thing.”

  “Oh, Rodrigo the boy toy is a good thing?” Cady said dryly.

  Torie half-grinned at that, offered a shrug as they both rose from their seats. “Divorce is complicated.”

  They tossed their trash on the way out, and Cady commented, “I don't know why my couldn't just be real with me and admit all this. Why did she have to act like she didn't really care?”

  Cady wasn't actually expecting an answer to that rhetorical quandary, yet Torie offered a comment anyway, as they stepped outside. “Look, your mom doesn't like to show her emotions, period, you know that. Maybe she doesn’t even know how. But just remember: that's not how you have to live.”

  At that, Cady halted her pace on the sidewalk to give her friend a questioning look. “Why do you say that?”

  A little too innocently, Torie shrugged, batting her eyelashes a bit, as if to say it was a general observation and nothing personal to Cady—though of course it was. “What?” Cady pressed. “You don't think I'm like my mom, do you? That I'm cold or not for real—”

  “No, no, no!” Torie ushered in to say, “Of course not! You wouldn't be my best friend if you were cold, come on!” Cady breathed a sigh of relief, and Torie explained, “I only meant that just because your mom always needs to stay in control and not reveal her innermost feelings, well, it doesn't mean that there's anything wrong with revealing your innermost feelings. Live out loud! Live free!” she burst cheerfully.

  “Hmm,” Cady mumbled, slanting a wry look at her friend as they started walking again, “easy for you to say. You were raised by an actress.”

  Torie giggled, hugging herself as a shaft of icy wind slashed through them, and agreed humbly, “I have no argument to that.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  “I can't believe it's only three days until the wedding!” Linda exclaimed, as she set her bag down on the pool table in Mick's apartment.

  “Me, either,” Mick muttered sourly, but held back further commentary. He rubbed a hand over his forehead, trying to let it sink in. Or trying to keep it from sinking in, he wasn't sure which. This shit was actually happening. It had been a week and a half since he'd run into Cady at Polar and she'd told him the wedding date. How could that time be gone already?

  And how could he have never heard from her?

  “Hey, Mrs. Croft,” Terrence called from the couch and waved. That began a chain reaction of hellos and waves from the others who were sitting in the living room, talking about football. Walker and his girlfriend, Jen, were practically sharing one couch cushion. As usual, Jen was snuggled up so close, her face was practically in the guy's armpit. Terrence sat on the other end of the sofa, and Quinn was slouched on the armchair with his feet up.

  “Hi, guys!” Linda greeted them and turned back to Mick. As she dug into her bag, she explained that she was on her way to Newbury Street to pick up her dress for the wedding after having some alterations done. Apparently she'd bought a fancy expensive dress she'd been wanting for a while. He could tell his mom was thrilled to be able to splurge on brand names again and not
feel like she had to save every nickel. The whole thing left a sense of distaste for Mick. He kept thinking about his mom marrying Brandall Killoren only for financial security. Of course, she claimed that she'd come to “care deeply” about him and she actually liked how eager the guy was. Defensively, Linda had told Mick that she and Brandall were both looking for stability in their own ways and if they found it with each other, who was anyone to judge that?

  So obviously there was no talking sense to her.

  “Here,” she said now, pulling out a yellow scrap of paper and pushing it into Mick's hand. “This is the receipt you need to pick up your boutonniere on Friday. The address is on the bottom.”

  “Can't I just give them my name?” Mick said. He figured a flower place was like the dry-cleaner. You never really needed that ticket, did you?

  “This will just make it easier,” Linda said. “I'd pick it up for you myself, but I have so many things to take care of still—oh! That reminds me. I'm meeting with the event coordinator at the hotel to review everything and I want to make sure I have the final headcount. Have you changed your mind about bringing a date?”

  “Uh, no...” Mick began reluctantly. When his mom had first asked him about this it had been the day after he'd seen Cady at Polar—and wrongly thought there might be something starting between them.

  Now, after a week-plus of silence from her, Mick was suddenly reconsidering bringing a date to the wedding. Would Cady be?

  To hell with Cady, he thought, annoyed—not just that she'd basically rejected him, but also pretty damn annoyed that she was seeping into his thoughts again.

  Prior to his mom showing up today and raising the subject of the wedding, Mick had almost put Cady completely out of his mind. Except at night, of course. When he was lying in bed, she'd inevitably enter his mind. He'd think about how good she would feel lying next to him, or under him, or splayed on top of him, and then of course he'd recall their one steamy night in her apartment. The chemistry between them had been off the charts. As soon as they had started kissing, it was like someone had struck a match. The way Cady was gripping onto him, digging her fingers into his shoulders, moaning softly against his mouth...

  Christ, that first night she'd been soft and vulnerable and hungry. Mick got hard just thinking about it. That was the way it would be with them—hot, intense, animalistic—if she'd let it be.

  But apparently not, he thought now, because no fucking word from her.

  Stupidly, Mick had said, “Just think about it” when they'd parted outside of Polar. Why in the world had he said that? That put the ball completely in Cady's court and gave him no real justification to call her, except to pester her.

  Ah hell, maybe it was just as well he'd put it on her, because now Mick knew how she really felt. He'd basically poured his heart out to this girl on the street and she'd gone dark on him anyway.

  “Mick?” Linda said, gathering up her bag. “Did you want to bring a date or not?”

  “Are, uh, other people bringing dates?” he asked casually.

  “All my friends are married,” Linda answered with a little laugh. “In that sense, I suppose they all have dates.”

  Nodding, Mick tried to sound nonchalant. “Right, yeah, that’s true. I just meant...”

  “What?” Linda blinked at him.

  “Nah, nothing,” Mick said, brushing off the topic. As he walked her to the door, he half-smiled at her and said, “So, you're really going through with this, huh?”

  “Of course,” Linda replied without hesitation. “Everything is arranged, the hotel rooms are booked. Just give them your name at the front desk—oh, you know how to get to the hotel?”

  “Yeah,” Mick said, though he actually didn't, but it would take about two minutes for him to find out. He only knew that The Boston Regency Grand Suites was outside the city, near Watertown. Apparently the place was able to accommodate his mom on such short notice because her wedding would be small and very simple.

  Linda and Brandall had booked a handful of guest rooms for immediate family members, treating them to a night at the hotel so they wouldn't have to worry about driving home afterward or catching the T on time.

  On her way to out the door, Linda blurted, “I have such a nervous stomach right now—but I'm so excited!”

  With her face beaming at him, what else could Mick do but manage a smile for her benefit?

  After she left, Mick shut the door with a grunt. Wordlessly, he headed toward his bedroom to grab his backpack and laptop. If he thought his friends were t0o caught up in their own conversation to be paying attention to his, he was wrong. As Mick re-entered the living room, Terrence glanced over at him and remarked, “Just call her.”

  That stopped Mick, halting him on the way to the front door. “What?” Surely the guy didn't mean—

  “Why don't you just call Cady?” Terrence suggested casually.

  Mick glared at him. “Why the hell would I do that?”

  Walker jumped in with his two cents. “C'mon, bro, it was obvious you were fishing to find out if she has a date.”

  Brusquely, Mick dismissed the idea. “No, I wasn't.”

  “I say call her up and just ask her to be your date for the wedding,” Terrence told him. “Boom—done.”

  Mick barked a laugh at that, heavy on sarcasm. “What! Get real. The girl doesn't even want to date me in secret. She's not going to do it in front of our parents, for chrissake.”

  “If you ask me, you're playing this all wrong,” Quinn said, deciding to add his unsolicited advice, because why the hell not? “What you need to do is to find someone smoking-hot and bring her to the wedding. Let Cady see who's taking her place.”

  “Nooo,” Walker's girlfriend, Jen, butted in, using that baby-voice she often did. “Don’t do that, that’s so meeeaan,” she whined. Then she blinked up at Walker, pursing her lower lip. “You know, someone did that to me once.”

  “Did what, babe?” he said, already scrutinizing her face with intense concern.

  “Used me to make another girl jealous,” she explained with a pout. “And, let me tell you, it made me feel really, really bad.”

  Mick saw Terrence subtly rolling his eyes, while Quinn just stared at her. (Jen's put-on baby voice was a known source of ear torment in the apartment.)

  Meanwhile Walker piled on enough sympathy for the whole room. “God, babe, I didn't know that happened to you,” he said, then cursed under his breath as he tightened his hug on her. “I'm so, so sorry some asshole would do that,” he continued, as Jen sniffed and dug her head further into his armpit.

  “Thanks, bunny,” she murmured meekly, snuggling closer and gushing about what a great boyfriend he was.

  As soon as Jen and Walker started with the cutesy talk, it was Mick’s cue to tune them out immediately. In fact, he was tuning out all of the advice he’d just been given regarding Cady and the wedding.

  Yes, Mick knew he could take someone to his mom's wedding. If he really wanted to bring a date, of course he could do that. He and his friends knew plenty of girls at school. Surely one of them would think the wedding might be fun.

  But, stubbornly, Mick just didn't want to bring anyone else.

  “I've got to get to class,” he said, continuing to the door. It was just as well, because the subject of Cady Killoren was apparently still a sore one. He supposed it was only because his pride was burned, his ego hurt, and he was furious with himself because he still wanted her.

  Ever the peacemaker, Walker disentangled himself from Jen long enough to call out, “Hey, man, all we were saying was that if you're into Cady, you should just—”

  “I'm not into her,” Mick said, his voice firm and unbending. “I don't give a shit if she has date for the wedding or not.”

  “Then why do you seem so pissed?” Quinn asked.

  Before Mick could answer, Terrence claimed, “Buddy, you've been in a mood ever since that night you ran into her at Polar. What happened anyway?”

  Not a Godd
amn thing, Mick thought, disappointed, but kept it to himself. Instead he replied, “Yeah, okay, I used to like her, I admit that. But now, forget it—it's way too much work.”

  Fortunately his friends let the point drop. Irritably, Mick snatched the slip for the flower place off the pool table and crammed it into his jacket pocket.

  “Trust me when I say: I'm done with that girl.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  “Thanks so much for coming!”

  “Of course,” Torie said brightly, entering Cady's hotel room on Saturday afternoon, carrying her brown leather bag of beauty tools. “There was no way I could let you do your own hair and makeup!” When Cady smirked at her, Torie realized how it sounded. “Oh, um, no offense...but you'd end up wearing a ponytail, I just know it.”

  “That's so not true,” Cady replied. “Probably.”

  Torie laughed, then set her bag on the dresser and looked around. “This place is really nice. You're just staying for the night?”

  “Yes. I wasn't going to take a room originally, but then I figured: why not?”

  “So...is Mick staying in the hotel, too?”

  “I don't know. I assume so.”

  “Hmm...”

  “Hmm nothing,” Cady stated firmly.

  Torie blinked with mock innocence. “What? I didn't say anything.”

  With a wry grin, Cady said, “You're thinking it—and putting the thoughts into my head now.”

  “Ha! Don't blame me for your impure thoughts. Just because you'll both be here tonight—maybe only a few doors down from each other—by the way, is the wedding open bar?”

  “Stop!” Cady warned her, ignoring Torie's giggle. “This is serious.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Though, come to think of it...you raise a good point,” Cady reflected. “I'd better stay stone-cold sober tonight.”

  As she took a rolling brush out of her bag, Torie said, “So, do you think it will be weird when you see Mick tonight?”

  “Probably.”