Authors: Regina Kyle
Now it was Cade’s turn.
“Ah. So you’re Andre? Can I ask you something?”
“Will you give her the message?”
“Of course.”
“Then ask away.”
Cade hesitated, knowing once he started there was no turning back. “This wedding...it’s a big deal?”
“Mais oui.”
Andre’s voice was emphatic. “
C’est une très grande affaire
. Or, as you Americans say, a very big deal. It is not every day one gets offered exclusive rights to an event like this one. It could open all sorts of doors for Ivy.”
Busted.
“Thanks, Andre. I’ll give her the message as soon as she gets in, which should be—” he looked at the clock on the stove...8:05 a.m. “—in about an hour.”
“
Merci
to you, too,
mon ami.
Take good care of our Ivy.”
Our Ivy.
But only Cade’s on loan. And the lease had just expired.
He hung up the phone with a click that echoed in the quiet kitchen. Hard as it was, he knew what he had to do. It would be easier this way, for him and for her. A clean break, quick and relatively painless, like ripping off a Band-Aid.
Except it wouldn’t be painless. Not for him.
Still, he had to go. He’d been ready to move back to his apartment for almost a week, and they both knew it. And if he didn’t leave, Ivy would miss this big opportunity. She might be okay with that now, but what about in ten years? Or twenty, when she was still taking pictures of small-town brides and pampered pets? He didn’t want that on his shoulders. No way. He’d had enough of that kind of resentment from his parents to last a lifetime.
He picked up the phone again and dialed.
“Brannigan,” his buddy answered on the first ring.
“Can you come get me in half an hour?”
“At Ivy’s?”
“Yep.”
“The lady of the house too busy to chauffeur you around this morning?”
Damn.
Cade was hoping Trey would be too tired or hung over to ask him many questions. “Something like that. I’ll give you the details when you pick me up.”
“Okay. See you in thirty.”
His ride secured, Cade made his way to the guest room and started emptying out his belongings, pulling clothes from the dresser and the closet and shoving them in his duffel bag. When he was done, he threw in his toiletries from the adjoining bathroom on top of it all and zipped the whole thing up with five minutes to spare before Trey was due to arrive.
He used the time to write Ivy a note. He’d never been much of a wordsmith, but he couldn’t leave without saying something. After a few false starts, he settled on short, simple and to the point. When he was done, he picked up his duffel bag and walked out the door without looking back.
“H
OW
ARE
THINGS
with you and Cade?”
Noelle sat back and eyed Ivy from across the farmhouse table in their parents’ kitchen, sipping her omnipresent herbal tea. She’d driven up for a short visit before flying out for a monthlong European tour. But with one of the part-timers working at the nursery that morning, their mother had announced she was taking their father for a much-needed haircut, giving the sisters a little bonding time before Ivy’s session with Mrs. Thorpe’s Chihuahua. And Noelle had apparently decided to use the opportunity to grill Ivy about her relationship status, or lack thereof.
“And don’t bother denying there’s a you-and-Cade,” she said as Ivy opened her mouth to do just that. “Gabe told me he walked in on you two getting creative with cream puffs.”
Ivy groaned and dropped her head into her hands. “Is nothing sacred?”
“Hell no.” Noelle’s answer was quick and decisive. “Not between siblings.”
“He didn’t say anything to Mom and Dad, did he?” Ivy would kill him if he had. Even if it got her life in prison for murdering a prosecutor. She’d never be able to look her parents in the eye again. And they’d probably disown Cade, which would crush him. He was closer to them than he was to his own family. But she’d know by now if Gabe had blabbed to them, wouldn’t she?
“No way. Can you even imagine that conversation?” Noelle shuddered in mock horror. “Besides, the full-disclosure rule only applies between brothers and sisters. So disclose.”
“There’s not much to say.” Ivy dumped two packets of sweetener into her coffee, ignoring her sister’s judgmental glare. Nothing the least bit processed ever went into her sister’s perfect body. Not that Ivy was jealous. She saw the pressure Noelle and her ballerina friends lived under every day to keep off the pounds. She didn’t have that kind of self-discipline and didn’t want it. What good was life if you couldn’t indulge once in a while? Like she was indulging with Cade. “He’s staying at my place until he can manage the stairs at his apartment.”
“And you’re banging each other’s brains out.”
“I’m helping out a friend.”
“A friend who’s banging your brains out, and vice versa.”
“It’s a matter of convenience.”
“Yeah, I’d say. Living together must make it pretty convenient for you to bang each other’s brains out 24/7.”
“Fine.” Ivy slammed her cup down on the table, sloshing hot coffee on her hand. She yelped and dashed to the sink to run the burn under cold water, which also gave her a reason to turn her back to her sister, shielding her rapidly reddening face. “We’re banging each other’s brains out. Are you happy?”
“The question is, are
you
happy?”
Leave it to Noelle to get to the heart of the matter. Pun intended. She might be the baby of the family, but she was no slouch when it came to reading situations. Or people. She’d always been able to read Ivy like the Yellow Pages.
Ivy shut off the faucet and reached for a dishcloth to dry her hands. She drew it out as long as possible before turning back to Noelle.
“I am, and I’m not,” she admitted, resting her butt against the counter.
“What’s that mean?” Noelle frowned, creating a crease in her flawless forehead. “Is the sex bad? I can’t imagine it is with a certified stud like Cade.”
“Certified stud?” Ivy tossed the dishcloth onto the counter. “Who talks like that?”
“The corps de ballet.” Noelle looked longingly at a box of Pepperidge Farm cookies their mother had left on the counter then shook her head as if to wipe it from her consciousness. “You’re avoiding my question.”
“About the sex?”
“Of course about the sex,” Noelle huffed.
“The sex is...” This was awkward. What was she supposed to tell her baby sister? That sex with Cade was earth-shaking? Mind-blowing? Life-altering? “Fine.”
“There’s no such thing as ‘fine’ sex. If it’s ‘fine,’ you’re doing it wrong.”
Oh, they weren’t doing it wrong. As far as Ivy was concerned, if it got any more right she’d die of pure pleasure. “Okay, it’s off the charts. Through the roof. Best I’ve ever had. Satisfied?”
“Sounds like you are. So what’s the problem? Unless...” Noelle bit her lip.
Ivy took her seat again, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. “Unless what?”
“Unless you want more. Like a commitment. Forever. A house with garage, a Goldendoodle and enough kids to field your own Little League team. And you’re not sure Cade’s the guy to give it to you.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.” Ivy studied her sister carefully. Was Noelle thinking about settling down, too? Last Ivy had heard, she was dating some hotshot choreographer, but no one in the family had met him, despite their mother’s efforts to get him to make the two-hour drive from New York to Stockton. From what Ivy had learned online, the guy was a real piece of work—the terror of the dance community, known for reducing everyone from the corps dancers to the principals to tears. Male and female both. She couldn’t imagine what her sister saw in him.
“This is your intervention,” Noelle insisted. “Not mine.”
Ivy lifted her coffee cup to her lips but didn’t drink, instead staring at her sister over the rim. “So it’s an intervention now?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“Takes for what?”
“For you to get off your ass and tell Cade you love him. That you’re done globe-trotting and you’re ready to put down roots here in Stockton, with him.” Noelle reached across the table and covered Ivy’s hand with her own. “You are, right?”
Ivy nodded, able to think the words but not say them.
She loved Cade. She’d always loved Cade. That much hadn’t changed. What was different was her. She’d seen the world, found herself and made peace with her past. Now she wanted to come back home and be with him and take pictures that made people feel good about themselves instead of inadequate and insecure. And maybe someday have that Little League team Noelle talked about.
“I knew it.” Her sister rounded the table and pulled Ivy to her feet. “Then what are you doing here with me? Go get your man.”
Less than five minutes later and with a fair amount of prodding from Noelle, Ivy was backing her Element down the driveway as her sister waved and shouted, “Call me later. Much later, if things go like I think they will.”
Ivy had no idea what she was going to say to Cade. Or what his response would be. But one of them had to be brave enough to put their heart on the line. And in a way, she was perversely proud that person was going to be her and not the big, brawny prototypical hero fireman.
Who’s the tough one now?
she thought, smiling as she pulled into the street.
Ivy drove as fast as she dared to the lake house, cutting her normal travel time in half. Her father had always said that once she’d set her mind on something it was a done deal, and now that she’d set her mind on confessing her feelings to Cade she wanted the deal done as soon as possible. At least then she’d know the outcome and be able to navigate through the aftermath, good or bad.
The locked front door should have been her first tip-off that something was amiss. She shrugged it off, figuring maybe Cade was taking a shower and didn’t want to risk any of his buddies walking in on him. Fishing her key out of her purse, she let herself in.
“I’m home,” she called as she pushed the door open.
No answering shout. No noise from the TV or Pandora or any one of Cade’s video games.
“Hello?” The door shut behind her, the snick of the latch reverberating in the eerie silence of the too-quiet house.
Sleeping.
That must be it. After the night of acrobatic sex they’d had, she wasn’t surprised he needed a little rest.
She tiptoed down the hall to the guest room, inching the door open so as not to wake him.
Empty.
Her palms were sweating now, panic starting to set in. Could he have gone out with his friends? He’d done that before when she was at work, but he’d always called or texted. She pulled out her phone and swiped the screen to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.
No calls. No texts.
She dropped the phone back into her purse and raced from room to room, calling his name.
Nothing.
When she got to the kitchen, she saw it. The key she’d given him. It was hard to miss, on a Super Mario key chain she’d picked out just for him. Underneath it lay one of the sheets of paper from the notepad she kept by the phone, folded in half with her name scrawled along the top.
She slid Mario to the side and picked up the paper. She held it like that, folded, her fingers trembling, for what could have been two minutes or twenty, already knowing what she’d find but somehow believing if she didn’t open the letter, then the words couldn’t hurt her. Finally, she pulled up her big-girl panties, unfolded the paper, smoothed it out on the counter and started to read.
She went through it a good four or five times before the message fully sank in. She let her purse slip through her fingers and fall to the floor with a dull
thunk
. A few seconds later, she slid down beside it and slumped against the cabinets, still clutching the note.
Ivy,
Andre called. The wedding’s been moved up, and the bride needs an answer today. Call him. Take the job. I’ll always treasure our time together, but I’ve got things to take care of at my place. Thanks for everything,
Cade.
She didn’t need to say anything. He’d already decided everything for them, without so much as a by-your-leave.
She scrunched the offending paper into a ball and threw it across the room, as far away from her as her feeble pitching arm would carry it. Then she dug her cell back out of her purse and hit speed dial.
“Andre, it’s Ivy,” she said when he picked up, not bothering to let him say hello. She glared at the crumpled note, which had landed under the table. If she had heat vision, it would have burst into flames ten times over. “I’ve been thinking about that offer. I’ve never been to Belize. When would they need me there?”
* * *
“H
ARDESTY
.” O’B
RIEN
STUCK
his damp head into the locker room. He’d clearly been working out, his SFD T-shirt stained with sweat and the veins in his arms still bulging with exertion. From the smug expression on his face, Cade knew it wasn’t good news. “Captain wants to see you in his office.”
“Be right there.” He shoved his feet into his Vans, wiggled his toes and stood. Damn, it felt good being out of the cast and in regular footwear again. The one positive in his life since he’d run Ivy out of town three weeks ago.
“Better hurry,” O’Brien taunted. “He looks pissed. You don’t want to make him even madder by keeping him waiting.”
His sweaty head disappeared.
“Thanks for the advice, ass-wipe,” Cade mumbled to his retreating back. He slammed his locker shut and hoisted his duffel over his shoulder. His shift had been over hours ago, but he’d loitered at the station, helping stow the hoses and pack the gear, teaching the new probie how to make marinara sauce—Ivy’s mom’s recipe. Anything to avoid going home to his empty apartment.
He was beginning to wish he hadn’t stuck around. As lonely as his nights had been since he’d moved out of the lake house, frozen dinners, cold beer and
American Ninja Warrior
beat the hell out of getting his ass chewed out by his boss.
He knocked on the office door and was rewarded with a curt “come in.”
“You wanted to see me, Cappy?” Cade entered, closing the door behind him so all of C Company, currently on duty, wouldn’t hear his butt-reaming. He stood at attention with his hands behind his back in front of Cappy’s wide mahogany desk.
“Hardesty.” Cappy’s voice softened, and Cade relaxed a hair. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as O’Brien had led him to believe. “Sit down.”
Cappy gestured to one of the two guest chairs. Cade sat and waited for his CO to steer the conversation.
“How’s the leg?” Cappy asked.
“Good.” Cade stretched his calf muscle reflexively. “Real good.”
“I’ve got the doctor’s report.” Cappy tapped a manila file on the desk.
“And?” Cade leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He’d been back to work for a couple of weeks, but had only been cleared for light duty, so he was relegated to basic chores like cooking, cleaning and stocking shelves. Not exactly what he signed up for at the academy.
“You’re good to go. Approved to return to active duty, no restrictions.” Cade started to stand, but Cappy stopped him by holding up a hand, palm outward. “Physically. I’m concerned about your mental health.”
“My mental health?”
“I heard through the grapevine you were living with that redhead from the softball game.”
“In a manner of speaking.” Cade leaned back, crossing an ankle over his knee. “What’s that have to do with anything?”
“And that she left town a while ago.”
“Something like that.”
“Remember what you were like the last time you two hit a rough patch? Moody. Distracted. Going through the motions like a zombie. It puts everyone at risk. I can’t have you like that again.”
“I know, Cap. And you won’t.” Cade stood and offered his hand. “I promise.”
“Your word is good enough for me.” Cappy rose, took Cade’s hand and shook it. “But I’ll be keeping a close eye on you your first couple of weeks back.”
“Understood.” With a nod, Cade turned and headed for the door.
“Hardesty. One last thing.”
Cade stopped, almost to the door, and spun back around to face his CO. “Yeah, Cap?”
“I hear you registered for the lieutenant exam.” Cappy’s eyes were hooded, his expression unreadable.
Cade nodded again, feeling like one of those bobblehead dolls they handed out every so often at Yankee Stadium. “I did.”
“Good.” Cappy gave what passed as a smile for him, and Cade let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “You’d make a fine officer. If you need any help studying, let me know.”
“Yes, sir.”
Cade left the office feeling better than he had in weeks. Ivy was still gone, and nothing was going to change that. But at least now he had his job back, for real this time.