Chapter 15
Winter
The bell tinkles above the door as I push it open, leaving the salon, and I smile at Ade as he steps out of his truck, parked in the centre of the town square.
I check the road for any cars and pad lightly across the asphalt, patting my palms beneath my curls, newly touched up in the softest pink.
“Like cotton candy,” Ade calls out to me, giving me a half-smile as he opens the passenger side of his truck, and I do a little twirl so that he can see my curls from every angle in the sunlight.
“What do you think?” I ask him happily, and smile-lines crinkle at the corners of his eyes.
“Very fancy,” he drawls back to me, before pulling me in for a brotherly side-hug.
I usually walk home from the town square after I’ve been to the salon, but seeing as Ade was grabbing some hardware, he said that he’d pick me up when I was done.
“Feeling excited?” he asks simply, holding my wrist in his palm as I mount the truck.
I smile back at him over my shoulder. “Yeah,” I whisper honestly.
He nods and releases my wrist as I grab the buckle and strap myself in, resting his palm on the roof of the vehicle as he watches me fiddle with the fastening.
“The guys are around fifteen minutes away,” he tells me, and I squeal as he closes the door, making him chuckle as he rounds the hood.
Today was the final day of Caden’s semester, so he got a flight a couple of hours ago and Maverick is picking him up from the airport.
Maverick is taking him to the ranch so that he can drop off his gear, and then Caden is coming to my parents’ place so that we can finally reunite.
Which is another reason why I’m super glad that Ade is giving me a ride – because it gives me a little extra time to make my bedroom cute before Caden arrives.
Ade drops down into the drivers’ seat and glances across at me as he tugs on his seatbelt.
“Has he texted you?” he asks, and I nod as I clutch my phone against my chest.
“Yeah,” I admit coyly, my cheeks dimpling at the thought of Caden’s texts.
Ade fights a smile as he kicks the car to life and rumbles, “Sappy as hell, I bet.”
I give him an amused eye-roll as he pulls away from the curb. “Don’t be jealous, Ade. You know you love it.”
He shoves his tongue in his cheek and nods, staying silent as he watches the road in front of us.
And I stare at him for a beat, seeing a flicker of something before he smothers it.
Caden’s oldest brother has been single for as long as I’ve known him, and despite his tough exterior, to his core he’s a total gentleman.
I slide him a look from the corner of my eye and ask, “Any plans for the holidays?”
He smirks as he flicks me a glance, loosening his fist around the wheel as he slows down in the suburbs.
“You fishin’?” he rumbles teasingly, his deep voice reverberating around the cab of his truck. Then he releases a gruff sigh and says, “I’m not seeing anyone, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I can’t hide my curiosity as I turn in my seat to face him, tucking one of my pink curls behind my ear as I look him over with a little smile.
“Why not? You’re almost thirty.”
He sputters out a laugh. “Gee, thanks.”
“Not that you should be in a relationship,” I continue, “but, Ade? You’re a real catch. You’re kind, handsome, hard-working. You should put yourself out there.”
He shakes his head as he watches the road. “Not a lot of women abide by my kind of lifestyle,” he says slowly.
I toy with my phone-case as I blink up at him. “What do you mean?”
He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, still shaking his head as he thumb-taps the wheel. “Like… I get up real early, every day. I work until it’s dark out. I eat clean, I don’t really drink. I might have the occasional cigar, but…”
He flicks his indicator and makes the turn, entering the street that my parents’ house sits at the bottom of. It looks like a cabin with an open wooden porch, the one-story architecture making it cute and cozy.
“I don’t go out like that,” he admits. “I don’t do bars and dives. And the kinds of women who are in those places… we’re probably not right for each other, anyway. I want a homebird, Winter, but the issue with that is that they’re at home.”
He breathes out a laugh, glancing down at me, and his strong cheekbones heat with vulnerability.
“You hear what I’m saying here? The kind of woman who’s right for me… she’s probably doing the same things that I am, Winter. Working, praying – not hitting up the local bar. Which means that the chances of us crossing paths are pretty darn negligible.”
“Maybe you need to start bustin’ some doors down,” I tease softly, and his chest heaves with a gruff laugh, one big palm scrubbing his tan cheek.
“Don’t give me ideas,” he jokes, pulling his truck to a steady stop, and we share a smile as I unfasten my seatbelt, the warmth in his eyes making my heart ache for him.
Because in all seriousness, Ade is a catch – but I also know that everything he said is totally true.
It can be hard for quiet souls to find a kindred spirit in the world we live in, and it’s definitely better for him to stay single than to force something with someone who’s not right for him.
So instead of labouring the point, I make a silent prayer, for Ade to receive the kind of love that a gentleman like him has always wanted.
“Thanks for the ride,” I tell him quietly, giving him a hug before I open the door.
“Think you’ll be coming back to the ranch tonight?” he asks, and I give him a smile as my boots hit the blacktop.
He rolls down the window on the door so that he can still hear me as I shut it closed.
I tap the roof contemplatively. “It depends on what Caden wants to do.”
But seeing as he hasn’t been home in a month, he’ll presumably want us to head back to his parents’ place.
Ade nods his head, thinking the exact same thing that I am.
“I’ll make sure that we’ve got enough food for y’all,” he says, and I shake my head at him as I smile.
Seriously, I think to myself, how is this guy still single?
“See you,” I call back to him, and then I’m jogging up the driveway, standing on my tip-toes when I reach the porch so that I can flip the switch on the Christmas lights.
They’re tiny and golden, and they make the porch glow as I open the front door, hearing my mom placing a pan down in the kitchen as I slip off my boots in the foyer.
“It’s me,” I call out, padding to the kitchen as I pull off my jacket.
It may still be summery in Kentucky, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t get in the festive spirit.
“Hey, kiddo,” my mom says, before giving me a happy ooh when she sees my hair.
I feel my cheeks heat up as I pat my curls. “Do you like it?” I ask nervously.
And something about hanging out with my mom makes my Southern lilt that much more pronounced.
“I love it, honey,” she says earnestly, and I exhale with relief, fighting my little smile.
“Thank you,” I tell her, peeking inside of the oven to see what she’s cooking. “Is dad still at church?”
She nods her head as she says, “Uh-huh.”
“What time’s he coming home?”
She adds seasoning to the pan. “Probably not until after your boyfriend gets here.”
My parents, admittedly, are very traditional – but they have also always been completely accepting of all my choices.
My mom was a farmer’s daughter, turned stay-at-home-mom, and my dad is a six-foot-three former cattle-driver, who joined the clergy when he felt the calling.
Both of them were born and raised in Texas, and married by the age of twenty-three, and they relocated to our small town in Kentucky before I hit my teens.
They might sound like a Southern cliché, but I’ve always felt blessed to witness their love story.
“I need to tidy my room,” I remember, glancing into the living room so that I can admire our tree. “Caden will be here in fifteen minutes, and I want it to be perfect.”
“He’d love your room even if it was filled with hay bales,” my mom teases. “But okay,” she laughs, “go make your room ‘perfect’.”
“Thank you,” I say with a grin, giving her a hug and jogging down the corridor, before nudging open my bedroom door and then shutting it quietly behind me.
I spend five minutes folding away my laundry and plumping up my sheets, and then I take a quick peek in my mirror to fluff my fingers through my curls – making sure that they’re still bouncy from my blow-dry at the salon.
I change out of my jeans into a pair of plaid pyjama pants, and I slip a cami over my chest, smoothing down the soft pink cotton as I grab my lip-balm from my desk.
And just as I begin dabbing it onto my lips, I hear the sound of heavy tires pulling up outside, making my little dimples deepen as I squeal and race across the room.
Three loud knocks sound from the entryway, and I peek out into the hall as my mom opens the door.
And my heart explodes in my chest.
There he is.
Caden steps into the foyer, hunching under the doorframe because he’s too tall for it, and he gestures outside with one of his hands, murmuring something about a storm as my mom nods up at him.
He’s carrying a brown paper bag in his fist and he holds it loosely as my mom talks to him, carefully tugging off his large black boots and placing them on the mat, right next to mine.
And it’s that tiny adorable gesture that has me beaming as I step into the corridor.
And the second that Caden’s eyes flash to mine, he’s fighting back the most gorgeous smile that I’ve ever seen, running his free hand through his dark hair as he resists the urge to charge right for me.
I bite my thumb as he looks down at my mom and murmurs, “Mrs. Saint-Haven, is it okay if I…?”
And those sparkling irises glance in my direction, silently asking if he can come to my room.
“Sure, honey,” my mom laughs, closing up the door and heading back to the kitchen, and then neither of us can take it any longer, and Caden laughs as he strides straight for me.
Before I can jump into his arms, he grabs my waist and hauls me upwards, chuckling gruffly as I squeal and compressing my chest against his pecs.