CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CADE
This wasn’t love. It was too early, too soon for that kind of talk. But it wasn’t just sex either. That was clear from the way I couldn’t stop thinking about Bella, the way I wanted her around, not only in my bed but in my day, my space, my head.
The market trip on Saturday was easy, fun.
We wandered through the stalls, her arm brushing mine as she pointed out fresh fruit or laughed at my bad bargaining.
Every touch sparked something, a quiet hum of wanting more.
Later, we hit the local bar to catch a football game.
She leaned close, her knee against mine, whispering sarcastic jabs about the players.
I barely watched the game, too caught up in her warmth, her sly smile, the way her eyes held mine like a challenge.
That night, she stayed over. We made love three times, each one different.
The first was fast, desperate, her hands pulling me closer like she couldn’t get enough.
The second was slower, more deliberate, our bodies finding a rhythm that felt like it belonged to us alone.
The third was soft, intimate, her breath warm against my neck as we moved together, eyes locked.
We fell asleep tangled up, her body curled against mine, her steady breathing lulling me into a calm I hadn’t felt in a while.
On Sunday, we barely left the bed.
We stayed wrapped up in each other, talking about random things. Her favorite movies. My worst cooking attempts. The way she fidgeted when she was nervous. We kissed, sometimes soft, sometimes hungry, losing hours to the pull between us. It felt natural, like we’d done this a hundred times before.
When Monday came, I hated watching her leave.
Driving to work, I could still smell her on my clothes, hear her laughing in my head.
I kept replaying the weekend—the way she felt, the way she looked at me.
This wasn’t love, not yet, but it was more than I’d bargained for, and I was already hooked, waiting for the next time I’d see her.
At the office, I spent most of the day unable to focus.
The hours drained away, until shortly before noon, Lois rapped on my doorframe.
“I’m going out for lunch. May I get you something?” she asked.
“No, I’m not hungry.” I locked my desktop computer and stood. “In fact, I think I’m going to cut out early for the day.”
“Okay,” she replied, sounding surprised. “I’ll make sure anyone who calls knows you’re unreachable.”
“Just forward them to my cell phone.”
Lois nodded, and after our goodbyes, I grabbed my laptop, notepad, and a stray pen.
Before heading out, I fired off a quick email to the team, approving the latest site plans for the Samurai Group's waterfront condo tower. We were neck-deep in negotiations, and any delay could jeopardize the multimillion-dollar partnership that would redefine part of the area’s skyline.
Still, the office felt stifling, buzzing with deadlines: investor calls piling up, permit reviews for three ongoing developments, and a stack of zoning variances that needed my sign-off by end of day.
Outside, South Florida delivered a perfect December day.
Blazing sun. Cloudless sky. No humidity.
Work can wait.
My head was a mess, thoughts jumbled like static from the endless real estate grind of balancing budgets, scouting new parcels, and chasing leads on undervalued properties.
I needed to sort it all through. In the elevator, I dashed off another text to my lead architect, confirming tomorrow's walk-through for the Samurai Group's project foundation pour, then sent David a quick message asking him to meet me for a short round at the Palm Beach Par 3 Golf Course.
He replied he would. Once at the driving range, the thwack of my driver against the ball steadied me, the scent of cut grass and sunscreen grounding.
I sent balls soaring, losing track of time.
“Nine holes on a Monday?” David’s voice cut in as he strolled up from the parking lot, clubs over his shoulder, grinning. “That’s unusual, man.”
I shoved my driver into my bag. “Game’s rusty. Need to tighten up. You warming up, or are you good?”
“I’m good. Played ten days ago. Shot a twenty-nine,” he said, smirking.
“Sure, you did,” I muttered, heading for the first tee. The fairway stretched ahead, the sun climbing high in the sky. For now, it was just me, David, and the game.
We set off for the first hole, and I was thankful for David’s willingness to meet up when most people had other commitments.
The beginning three holes were easy and smooth.
I boogied the first and second, then birdied the third.
On the fourth, though, my game collapsed, and I ended up three strokes over par.
“All right,” David said when I shoved my putter back into the bag. “You’re not usually this intense. I mean, you’re intense, but not like this.”
I adjusted my aviators. “Got a lot on my mind.”
“I feel like that’s why you wanted to play today.”
I took a few steps to the cart path, and we began the trek to the fifth hole. The course had plenty of carts for rental, but I was always content to walk from hole to hole for the extra exercise. “I spent the weekend with Bella.”
“Fuck yeah, you did.”
I gave my best friend a sideways glance. His tone was congratulatory, but I wanted him to understand this wasn’t my usual. This wasn’t me sleeping with some random ass that I found at a local bar or picked up at a charity event. “I even took her to the goddamn farmers market downtown on Saturday.”
“You did?”
“Fucking green juice and all of it.” I steadied myself as we approached the tee box. “What if she’s the one?”
David stopped short. “What?”
“Just, what if she is?”
David walked the final steps to the edge of the box. “That’s something I never thought I’d hear you say.”
“Falling in love isn’t something I ever wanted to do.”
I shook my head, thinking of my parent’s disastrous marriage.
I had to give it to them. They stayed together until she died of breast cancer despite being unhappy for at least seventy-five percent of their relationship.
It would have been easier to divorce, and there were certainly plenty of women who wanted their chance with my dad, but despite their example of commitment, their extreme unhappiness had turned me off long-term relationships altogether.
Why spend so much time with someone you didn’t love. Life was too short for that.
But Bella... there’s no way I could ever hate her.
“Wait a minute. Are you saying you’re in love with her?” David asked.
I slipped my driver out of the bag. “No, not exactly. Something else, probably.”
“Not sure what that could be.”
“She’s just... fascinating. I’d misunderstood her so much when we first reconnected. I couldn’t see her drive, her protective instincts toward her sister and those in her orbit. She’s—” Beautiful, sweet, funny, and I want her to be mine. “Guileless.”
David laughed and walked to the area between the two red balls that marked the starting point for the hole. “So, you fucked her.”
I chaffed. That wasn’t the word or the way I’d put it. “But it wasn’t fucking. It was more than that.”
“Jesus Christ, Cade, I don’t think you’ve ever said shit like this in the whole time I’ve known you.”
“No, I probably haven’t.”
David pivoted again and set up his ball on the tee he placed in the middle of the grass.
“I felt that way with Maureen. Things were different, so I just went with it.” He stepped backward and prepared to hit the golf ball with his long black driver.
I stared at him, letting him concentrate on his shot, which sailed in a near perfect, straight arch across the fairway.
“Great shot, man.”
David tossed me a grin. “Those lessons over at PGA National haven’t been for nothing.”
“You need to text me your guy.”
“I can.” He walked off the grass toward me, then patted my shoulder when he got within a few inches. “Don’t worry. It will be okay.”
“What will be okay?”
“Finding love. If... if that’s what this is.”
“Thanks.”
I took the tee from my pocket and walked to the tee box.
David is probably right. Things will be okay.
I shouldn’t be afraid of what I felt for Bella.
It was different, but that didn’t mean it was bad.
Yes, I was forty. Yes, she was fifteen years younger than me.
And yes, on the surface, we didn’t have much in common besides our shared history in business.
But that didn’t mean the unexpected couldn’t happen.
And maybe it is, I thought as I placed my ball on the tee. After all this time, maybe it really is.
I lined up next to the ball, positioned my driver, took two deep breaths, and pulled back for a swing.
For the first time that day, my club made perfect contact.
The golf ball sailed through the air, sweeping across the fairway before dropping onto the green and then rolling a short distance to the flag.
It was a hole in one.
A fucking hole in one.
“An ace, Cade. Nice going.”
A win. Finally.
Is that how I should also see Bella? An unexpected but welcome win?