Caden (Loving the Sykes Book 1)

by Elizabeth Stevens

  “See, quick and quiet,” he said softly.

  I flicked on the iron and smiled at him. “And yet, the quality wasn’t lacking.”

  He smiled and leant on the wall he’d just had me up against. “I’m glad.”

  I started on the chef’s whites just in time.

  “You two, right?” Oscar asked as he wandered in, towelling his hair.

  “Yep, fine. Cade just needed ironing advice,” I replied, hoping I wasn’t still flushed.

  “I did not. I’m very good at ironing.”

  “Then you can iron Oz’s chef’s whites next time.”

  “Maybe I will,” Caden said.

  Oscar laughed. “Thanks, Lu. God, some things never change,” he said as he shook his head and left.

  I looked at Caden and smiled slowly. “I noticed.”

  He grinned, obviously also remembering our conversation from his first night home.

  17

  Caden

  If Oscar had noticed anything was going on, he did a remarkable job at hiding it and I was tempted to nominate him for one of those awards to match his name. I knew Oscar as well as I knew anyone, but I still found it hard to believe he didn’t notice anything. But I guess, when you’re not expecting something, you don’t see it.

  The three of us walked down Main Street the way we used to. It gave me serious fifteen-year-old Caden flashbacks.

  Back then, it had been Carter and me strutting down Main Street like we owned the place. Oscar wandered along behind us, always preferring to hang out with us than the other thirteen-year-olds. And little twelve-year-old Lucy running after us. Twenty-one-year-old Luther had been working but would always give us some money for an ice cream or a milkshake, even before their dad had died.

  The deli where I’d broken up with my first ‘girlfriend’ had been repainted, but still looked the same. The butcher where Oscar had had his first job was now owned by his daughter, who’d scared me at any age. The tree outside the post office that Carter fell out of and broke his arm was still in pride of place.

  The bones of the place I knew were still the same, even if there was something different about it all on the surface. But I guess that’s exactly what aging did to you. Inside, where it mattered, you were the same even though you looked different on the outside.

  “Do you remember that time Carter stood up to Max Bishop?” Oscar laughed.

  My eyes found the corner outside the café where Carter had had his first fight. I laughed as the vague memory swanned into my mind.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t even remember what he said,” Oscar chuckled. “I just remember walking down this street and then he came careening around the corner yelling something at Max, who nearly bowled me over as he ran after him. Then there was you, holding back Max’s little sidekick. Do you remember him?”

  I snorted, remembering it all now. “Koby. Koby Ross. Carter told Max something about his mum…” I tried to remember the exact words, but nine years was a long time. I shook my head. “I don’t know what it was, but Max went ballistic.”

  “You wanna eat at the café. Old times’ sake?” Oscar asked.

  I nodded and looked to Lucy, who was smiling softly as she looked at me. My breath caught at the pure expression. I couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but it was definitely fondness.

  “What?” I asked her as I took the door from Oscar to hold it open for her.

  She dropped her eyes as her smile grew and she stepped inside. “It’s just really nice to have you home,” she said.

  “She’s not wrong,” Oscar said as Lucy and I followed him to a table.

  It wasn’t busy, but a few people recognised me and said hello. The Sykes Boys had managed to make a bit of a name for themselves around town when we were younger. Well, to be perfectly honest, it was mostly me and Carter. But Luther had done plenty to pave the way that Carter and I needed only to live down to expectations, which we managed successfully. We didn’t know everyone by name, but it sounded like the Sykes Boys were still pretty notorious and I hadn’t changed much.

  “It’s been nostalgia overload in my brain since you came home,” Oscar continued. “Things I’d long forgotten, I’m being reminded of. All the shenanigans you boys got up to. The trouble you got me in.”

  “That is what you get for following those two delinquents around,” Lucy said as we sat down.

  “It’s hardly our fault that we were such charming delinquents. Or that Oz was so gullible.”

  “What?” Oscar laughed. “Trusting maybe. How was I to know you were going to leave me there for the cops to deal with?”

  I snorted violently at the memory. “Every time. ‘Oh, excuse me office, I’m lost’.”

  Lucy smiled. “You took total advantage of him and you know it.”

  I shrugged. “You’re just jealous I never took advantage of you.”

  Suddenly realising what my big, fat mouth had said, I looked to her. She wore a knowing smirk, but sniffed and picked up a menu to hide behind.

  “No. I was far too smart to let you two mislead me.”

  “Oh, is that what we’re calling it?” Oscar asked.

  I leant my arms on the table and relished listening to them bicker backwards and forwards. Oscar hadn’t been wrong. Ever since I’d come home, I’d also been living in nostalgia hell. Most of it was memories of Lucy – all the little things in our lives that made me fall in love with her in the first place.

  But it was everything else as well. Everything I’d left behind when I’d run away from my feelings for her the first time.

  Coming home, it only just hit me how much I’d missed everyone. I only just realised exactly how much I’d missed out on. The feeling of family and security and unconditional love. Don’t get me wrong, I had a very similar feeling with my team – we hadn’t spent two years training and four years working together for us to be veritable strangers. But it was different when your history was made up of growing up and good times, not just near-death experiences.

  I had a singular sense of never wanting to leave again. I wouldn’t have called my time away a mistake necessarily. But I had less inclination to leave now. Maybe it was the heat I saw in Lucy’s eyes when she looked at me now, maybe it was the hope that one day it would be love I saw. Maybe it was just getting older and wondering how many more years I had of getting lucky before I did come home in a body bag. Maybe it was just maturity making me wonder if a family life was a more attractive option.

  Whatever it was, I was hardly going to be able to stay if I didn’t man up and tell Lucy how I felt about her. I couldn’t even think of staying with things the way they were, with Lucy and me being in this weird temporary fuck-buddy situation or whatever she thought we were doing.

  “Dude,” Oscar said and Lucy batted me to get my attention.

  I blinked and looked at them. “Sorry. What?”

  “I was asking what you wanted.” Oscar smiled at me warmly. “Nice trip down Memory Lane?”

  I smirked back at him. “Yeah, it was the quickest road to Kick-You-Arse-Ville.”

  “It was one time,” Oscar muttered.

  “I’m having waffles,” Lucy announced.

  I nodded. “Are they better than they used to be?” I asked.

  “No,” Lucy said decidedly.

  “But you’re still eating them.”

  She nodded. “Yes. It’s tradition.”

  It had been tradition. When the five of us had come in here we’d all have our regular meals. Luther had gone for the big breakfast with extra bacon and a black coffee. Carter had always had a hotdog with every conceivable topping, a bowl of chips, and a large Coke. Oscar would always choose the Caesar salad with a Fanta. And Lucy had always had waffles…

  “And a lime milkshake,” I remembered.

  She bit her lip as she looked down to hide her smile. “And a lime milkshake,” she agreed.

  “Which means Caden Reece is getti
ng?” Oscar said, leaning towards me with a smile.

  I nodded, but it was Lucy who answered.

  “A burger with the lot and a Coke, no ice.”

  Oscar nodded. “It’s tradition.”

  “So, you’ll be getting the limp Caesar salad and a bottle of Fanta then?” I asked him.

  Oscar grimaced. “Ugh. No.”

  “You can’t break tradition.”

  “Oh, he still gets a salad,” Lucy said.

  “I don’t always get a salad,” Oscar said.

  Lucy looked at him over the menu she was still reading. “You got a salad when we were here two weeks ago.”

  Oscar sighed. “Okay. Fine. I always have a salad.”

  “If it’s not limp Caesar salad, what is it then?” I laughed.

  “Vietnamese noodle.”

  I looked at Lucy in disbelief. She nodded.

  “I know.” It was a very ‘don’t blame me’ tone.

  “Have you somehow got more poncy since I left?” I asked.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have left,” Lucy said, matter-of-fact.

  Oscar pointed at me as he got up. “Yes. I second this.”

  “Because you wouldn’t have got more poncy if I hadn’t?” I chuckled.

  “Yes,” Oscar’s reply was deadpan. “For it is only your fragile male ego that could have saved me from a life of delicious food. But alas, you left, and now, here I stand, a man who is making choices that make him happy in life. Tragedy.”

  Lucy and I laughed as he went to the counter to order.

  She fiddled with the sugar in the condiment box and wouldn’t look at me.

  “You really think I shouldn’t have left?” I asked her unexpectedly.

  She wrinkled her nose like she was trying not to smile. “Does it matter what I think?”

  “Of course, it does.”

  She looked at me sideways. “Would you stay?”

  I swallowed. “I don’t know. Do you think I should?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose it depends on why you left in the first place. If you’ve got a reason to leave again.”

  It was like she was begging me to tell her the truth. That I left because of her, because I was in love with her and shouldn’t have been. That I would stay for her. Even if she was in love with someone else, one word from her and I’d stay. Her eyes implored me to tell her the truth, to find my backbone and break my silence.

  I opened my mouth to tell her everything, but Oscar sat back down. I snapped my mouth shut audibly and looked at him. His eyebrows drew together momentarily as he looked me over and I was terrified at how guilty I looked to him. The last thing I wanted was to break their trust in me. Not that I hadn’t done that already by sneaking around behind their backs with their little sister.

  “Sorry,” he said nonchalantly, all sign of concern gone from him. “Did I interrupt something?”

  “No.” I coughed.

  “No,” Lucy agreed. “Nothing.”

  “You sure?” Oscar asked. “Because you two look mighty guilty. Oh!” he cried. “Are you joining up for my birthday present this year?”

  “Yes, Oz,” Lucy said with a nod. “Sure are.”

  I nodded as well. “Twenty-three’s a big one.”

  “Every year’s a big one for a guy who almost dies for a living,” Oscar said flippantly, then looked at Lucy quickly.

  Something unsaid passed between them and I burned to know what it was. Lucy looked pissed and Oscar looked chastised. I wasn’t sure why either of them had cause to react like that considering he hadn’t been far off the truth.

  “Uh, what I mean to say is…” Oscar cleared his throat. “Sweet. I could do with a new skillet.”

  “That’s what I told him,” Lucy said stiltedly as she rearranged in her seat.

  “I don’t see why the K-Mart one’s not good enough,” I commented and the tension eased somewhat.

  “Since when have I ever been interested in the K-Mart one?” Oscar asked.

  Our drinks came and we’d melted back into old patterns; teasing each other, throwing sugar packets around, making straw art. All the tension melted along with it and I felt more relaxed about everything.

  Well, all but one thing.

  I felt like the universe was telling me not to tell Lucy the truth. Even if I thought she wanted it, that I must have been imagining it. Because it seemed like everything was lining up to prevent me from admitting my feelings to her.

  I knew what Phillips would say, but my commander could shove off. If the time came for me to go back to work and nothing had changed, I’d tell myself it was for the best. Because I’d rather have part of Lucy than nothing at all. And I’d take whatever part of her I could get.

  18

  Lucy

  Oscar was as oblivious as always and, for once, I was glad. It had meant that we could have a really nice lunch out, just like old times and I could stop worrying about what Caden and I were doing or if there would ever be a chance he could love me back.

  I decided that I’d come too close to hearing what I didn’t want to. The look on his face when I suggested there might be a reason for him to leave had been all too telling. I had never been happier to have Oblivious Oscar interrupt a conversation.

  So, things had gone back to semi-normal for the last few days.

  The five of us were hanging out like old times – chatting and laughing and reminiscing – and Caden and I took every chance we could to be with each other behind their backs. I felt terrible about sneaking around under their roof, but I knew it would be worse if they knew Caden and I were sleeping together.

  Especially when Caden and I were ONLY sleeping together.

  Did that stop me? No. I wanted him far too much to let my guilt get in the way in the heat of the moment. And the moment was always very heated.

  I just had to be thankful that my brothers worked full time – give or take the occasional late start or early finish. Otherwise our sneaking around would have been a hell of a lot more difficult. Which is not to say it wasn’t without its problems.

  Caden was kissing me on the kitchen bench when Carter came home early one afternoon in an already awful mood.

  The door slammed and I pushed Caden away as I slid off the bench. I ran my hand over my hair, smoothed my dress, and patted my lips like that would get rid of the slight stubble rash.

  “Women!” Carter snapped. He saw us in the kitchen and stopped. “You and me,” he said to Caden and I swallowed at his tone. “We’re going out tonight.”

  “Got a girl you need to forget, mate?” Caden scoffed, sliding me a glance.

  Carter shook his head as he shrugged out of his sweaty hoody. “Oo, I wish I’d never met her. Fucking pain in my arse as I’ve ever met.”

  “She get your panties in a knot?” Caden laughed.

  “If it wasn’t sexist to hit girls…you know what I’d be doing.”

  I frowned. “I’m not sure that it isn’t sexist to not hit girls…”

  “Deadpool knew this,” Caden pointed out.

  The frown of thoughtful consideration on my brother’s face had me panicking slightly. “I don’t care what she did, you’re forbidden from hitting her.”

  “How about professionally?” he asked.

  “She a boxer?” Caden asked, looking surprised.

  “May as well be…” Carter muttered as he absently rubbed his cheek.

  Caden snorted. “I don’t think you need some strange. I think you need a good hate fuck.”

  Carter visibly shivered in disgust. “No. Not happening. Be ready at seven.”

  “We eating first?”

  “I don’t care.”

  Carter strode out and jogged up the stairs.

  Caden looked at me. “Sorry.”

  I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling awkwardly nervous. “No. Don’t be. About what?”

  A cheeky half-smirk crossed his face as he pointed vaguely upstairs. “In
terruptions. Going out later. Whatever.”

  I shrugged, acting nonchalant in the hopes he didn’t catch just how much I was hoping he wasn’t going to go out and end up going home with someone else. “No. Pfft. It’s fine. I don’t care.”

  An odd look passed over his face, then he nodded. “Sure. No. Okay. I guess I’d better–”

  “Dude, is the game on?”

  “Which one?” Caden asked.

  “Any one.”

  “You know you don’t have to watch sport just because it’s on,” I said and Caden smiled widely.

  “I know that. Tell that to your brother.”

  I rolled my eyes. “He’s too busy being all ‘manly’, he won’t listen.”

  Caden picked up the Coke he’d abandoned on the table. “Don’t tell him that.”

  “Why not?”

  “His poor fragile male ego couldn’t handle it.”

  “Oh, we talking about you again?” Oscar asked as he walked in.

  Caden gave a fake laugh. “Har har. No, Cart’s this time.” He grinned cheekily.

  “Peas in a freaking pod,” Oscar said as he spared me a smile. “We all home tonight?”

  I shook my head. “Carter apparently needs some strange.”

  “Something you know nothing about,” Carter said pointedly as he jogged back down the stairs.

  I held my hands up defensively. “You can’t pretend I’m ignorant about these things because you want to.”

  Carter nodded. “Can. Will.”

  “Maybe you should lead by better example then?” Oscar countered.

  “Thank you.”

  Carter frowned. “I don’t tell you how to live your life–”

  “You’re literally doing exactly that,” I said.

  “I was talking to Oscar.”

  “Oh, so it’s okay to have double-standards for Luce?” Oscar asked.

  “Yes,” Carter said simply. “The four of us have a duty to protect her. Fuck up any fucker who touches her before she’s thirty.”

  “Because that’s ‘keeping me safe’?” I clarified.

  “When a guy walks in here and asks you to marry him, then we’ll talk.”