Stealing Rose
Page 88
Long minutes later, when I’m pulling out my cell phone and getting ready to send her a nasty text, I hear the locks being undone and then the door swings open.
“Good.” She smiles but she quickly glances over her shoulder, worry in her gaze. “You’re here.”
I frown at her. She’s not in her usual party dress, either. And when I say “party dress” like she’s a little girl, I mean it. If there’s a party to be had, Lily’s usually the best-dressed attendee. She can’t seem to help herself.
But tonight she’s wearing little denim cutoff shorts and a tank top. Her hair is in a sloppy ponytail and there’s not a lick of makeup on her face. Odd.
“I’m completely overdressed,” I tell her, waving a hand at the comfortable long cotton strapless dress I’m wearing. It’s turquoise and dotted with little white squiggles and currently the most comfortable thing I own. I don’t have a full-on belly yet, but there’s a slight pooch and I hate wearing anything that restricts my waist and stomach.
“I’m, um, still getting ready. Not everyone’s here yet.” Her gaze skitters away from mine and I have the weirdest sense that she’s lying to me.
“Well, are you going to let me in or what?”
“Oh my God, of course.” She sweeps the door open and I walk inside, glancing around for any glimpse of someone else being here. “Am I the first one here?”
“No.” She wrings her hands together and I fall into step behind her as we head for the kitchen. “There’s someone else waiting for you.”
Huh? What is she talking about? And why is she being so strange?
“I really hope you didn’t plan something unexpected, because I am so not in the mood.” My earlier cheerfulness has evaporated and I want to go home.
“Stop worrying and come on.” We walk through the kitchen, which leads to a small nook where her more informal dining table is. There’s a man sitting there, but I don’t know who he is and the room is dark. The curtains are drawn, not even letting in the dimming rays of sunlight, and he slowly stands to his feet.
Everything within me stops. The way he moves, the hair, the length of him …
His face comes into view as he takes a step toward us and I reach out, grasping the edge of the granite countertop to keep me from toppling over.
It’s Caden.
“Okay, well, this is your chance for you two to make up. Ta-ta!” And with that Lily buzzes out of there, the loud slam of her front door indicating she’s left us in her apartment. Completely alone.
“Hey,” he says, the sound of his deep, delicious voice melting everything within me.
I stand taller, stiffening my spine. I refuse to cave first. This man needs to grovel a bit. I can only assume Lily found Caden on her own, through Cash. That she set this entire meeting up for me, so I could talk to him and tell Caden he’s going to be a father.
But seeing him again after over two months, all the anger comes back to me, double force. I think of how he left me, snuck out in the middle of the night after writing me that stupid, irritating letter. I should hit him just for that letter alone.
“You look beautiful, Ro,” he says after a long, charged moment of silence, and I clench one hand into a fist, my other hand still gripping the countertop tightly. “I’ve missed you.”
I want to laugh. I also want to cry. “Really? Could’ve fooled me, what with the way you’ve reached out and tried to contact me.”
The shadow that crosses his face makes me happy. Good. He should feel bad. He should feel incredibly guilty and shitty for what he’s done. “I have my reasons,” he starts, and this time I do laugh, cutting him off.
I can’t stop laughing. I just keep doing it. He doesn’t move, just stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind, and I do feel like I’ve lost it. I think I’m in a state of shock. I can’t believe he’s standing in front of me, looking so good, looking so clean and handsome and … respectable? He’s wearing a button-down shirt and charcoal-gray trousers. His hair is cut neatly and though it’s hanging loosely from his neck, he’s wearing a tie. Like he just got off work or something.
Huh?
My laughter starts to die, tears streaming down my cheeks, my belly aching. I’m not laughing anymore, I’m crying, and a sob bursts free from my lips. Sniffing, I cover my face with my hands and he moves into action. I can hear him. Feel him. He hesitates for only a moment as he stands right in front of me and then he’s drawing me into his arms, holding me close.
I stiffen in his embrace, telling myself I should be stronger. I shouldn’t give in so easily. His hand cups the back of my head and he presses my face against his chest. I can feel his heart race, smell his familiar, perfect scent. His other arm goes around my waist, fingers resting firmly on my hip, and I’ve never felt so right.
I feel like I’ve come home.
Giving in, I melt into him, slinging my arms around his waist as I cry. My tears dampen his shirt, his fingers comb through my hair, and he whispers reassuring words to me. Words that warm my heart and send it aflutter, beating against my ribs so hard he can surely hear it.
“I’ve missed you so damn much,” he murmurs against my hair. “I was trying to do the right thing. Get my life on track, be a better man before I come find you and make you mine.”
Stupid, silly man. What in the world is he talking about? “What do you mean?” I ask, my voice muffled against his chest.
“Good.” She smiles but she quickly glances over her shoulder, worry in her gaze. “You’re here.”
I frown at her. She’s not in her usual party dress, either. And when I say “party dress” like she’s a little girl, I mean it. If there’s a party to be had, Lily’s usually the best-dressed attendee. She can’t seem to help herself.
But tonight she’s wearing little denim cutoff shorts and a tank top. Her hair is in a sloppy ponytail and there’s not a lick of makeup on her face. Odd.
“I’m completely overdressed,” I tell her, waving a hand at the comfortable long cotton strapless dress I’m wearing. It’s turquoise and dotted with little white squiggles and currently the most comfortable thing I own. I don’t have a full-on belly yet, but there’s a slight pooch and I hate wearing anything that restricts my waist and stomach.
“I’m, um, still getting ready. Not everyone’s here yet.” Her gaze skitters away from mine and I have the weirdest sense that she’s lying to me.
“Well, are you going to let me in or what?”
“Oh my God, of course.” She sweeps the door open and I walk inside, glancing around for any glimpse of someone else being here. “Am I the first one here?”
“No.” She wrings her hands together and I fall into step behind her as we head for the kitchen. “There’s someone else waiting for you.”
Huh? What is she talking about? And why is she being so strange?
“I really hope you didn’t plan something unexpected, because I am so not in the mood.” My earlier cheerfulness has evaporated and I want to go home.
“Stop worrying and come on.” We walk through the kitchen, which leads to a small nook where her more informal dining table is. There’s a man sitting there, but I don’t know who he is and the room is dark. The curtains are drawn, not even letting in the dimming rays of sunlight, and he slowly stands to his feet.
Everything within me stops. The way he moves, the hair, the length of him …
His face comes into view as he takes a step toward us and I reach out, grasping the edge of the granite countertop to keep me from toppling over.
It’s Caden.
“Okay, well, this is your chance for you two to make up. Ta-ta!” And with that Lily buzzes out of there, the loud slam of her front door indicating she’s left us in her apartment. Completely alone.
“Hey,” he says, the sound of his deep, delicious voice melting everything within me.
I stand taller, stiffening my spine. I refuse to cave first. This man needs to grovel a bit. I can only assume Lily found Caden on her own, through Cash. That she set this entire meeting up for me, so I could talk to him and tell Caden he’s going to be a father.
But seeing him again after over two months, all the anger comes back to me, double force. I think of how he left me, snuck out in the middle of the night after writing me that stupid, irritating letter. I should hit him just for that letter alone.
“You look beautiful, Ro,” he says after a long, charged moment of silence, and I clench one hand into a fist, my other hand still gripping the countertop tightly. “I’ve missed you.”
I want to laugh. I also want to cry. “Really? Could’ve fooled me, what with the way you’ve reached out and tried to contact me.”
The shadow that crosses his face makes me happy. Good. He should feel bad. He should feel incredibly guilty and shitty for what he’s done. “I have my reasons,” he starts, and this time I do laugh, cutting him off.
I can’t stop laughing. I just keep doing it. He doesn’t move, just stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind, and I do feel like I’ve lost it. I think I’m in a state of shock. I can’t believe he’s standing in front of me, looking so good, looking so clean and handsome and … respectable? He’s wearing a button-down shirt and charcoal-gray trousers. His hair is cut neatly and though it’s hanging loosely from his neck, he’s wearing a tie. Like he just got off work or something.
Huh?
My laughter starts to die, tears streaming down my cheeks, my belly aching. I’m not laughing anymore, I’m crying, and a sob bursts free from my lips. Sniffing, I cover my face with my hands and he moves into action. I can hear him. Feel him. He hesitates for only a moment as he stands right in front of me and then he’s drawing me into his arms, holding me close.
I stiffen in his embrace, telling myself I should be stronger. I shouldn’t give in so easily. His hand cups the back of my head and he presses my face against his chest. I can feel his heart race, smell his familiar, perfect scent. His other arm goes around my waist, fingers resting firmly on my hip, and I’ve never felt so right.
I feel like I’ve come home.
Giving in, I melt into him, slinging my arms around his waist as I cry. My tears dampen his shirt, his fingers comb through my hair, and he whispers reassuring words to me. Words that warm my heart and send it aflutter, beating against my ribs so hard he can surely hear it.
“I’ve missed you so damn much,” he murmurs against my hair. “I was trying to do the right thing. Get my life on track, be a better man before I come find you and make you mine.”
Stupid, silly man. What in the world is he talking about? “What do you mean?” I ask, my voice muffled against his chest.
