Chapter 11
eleven
C ade sprinted down Decatur, laughing as Rosalyn’s lithe figure moved like a gazelle past the rows of stores, easily staying out of his reach. Shop owners hurried outside to move tables and chairs under their entryways and out of the rain. Cars splashed through rapidly forming puddles.
He finally caught up to her and they jogged past the French Market Inn. “You trying to show me up, Ace?” Cade paused to bend and brace his hands on his knees. Linc would never let him live it down if he knew Rosalyn had trounced him at something fitness related.
“Don’t have to try, do I?” She was barely out of breath. Not fair.
“I thought your knee was an issue.”
Her grin faded and she looked down at it, flexed her leg, as if surprised. “Huh. That didn’t bother it at all.” Then her grin returned and she tugged his arm, leading him across St. Louis Street. “Come on, slowpoke. I think the comedy club is down this way. I saw a sign back there.”
“Oh, you mean back when you Olympic-sprinted past it?” But losing to Rosalyn didn’t bother him now like it had in school. Not if meant she smiled like that.
Then a jagged bolt of lightning cracked the sky.
“Whoops. Over here.” Cade ducked for cover under a nearby shop’s awning, his chest still heaving from their run. Water dripped off the ends of his hair, tickling his cheeks. The rain roared harder.
Rosalyn tucked into the narrow alcove next to him, soaking wet. Her ponytail clung to her bare arms, and she untied her hoodie from around her waist. She started to push her arms into the sleeves, but the material was already sopping. She shivered.
Before he could consider the ramifications, Cade pulled Rosalyn closer and rubbed her arms. Water sluiced off his palms. “Want me to run over there and buy us a towel?” He gestured toward the store across the street, only half-joking.
“Might need to make it a beach towel at this point.” She grinned, mascara forming dark smears under her eyes. He reached over and wiped one of the smudges away. His fingers lingered on her cheek, and he forced his hand back to his side. She’d drawn the line earlier that morning with her friend declaration, and as much as he wanted to cross it—or rather, broad-jump it—he wouldn’t.
“Cade?”
“Mmm?” Uh-oh. Had she been reading his thoughts?
She looked into his eyes, making him wish he had an excuse to slide his shades back on. “When did you see me perform?”
Oh boy. He ran a hand through his damp hair, now sticky with wet gel. “You weren’t supposed to ask that again.”
“I kind of feel like this entire day has had a lot of ‘not supposed to’s.”
“Fair.” Besides—at this point, what could it hurt? He took a deep breath. “It was a several months back, in Dallas. I was going to surprise you after the show, but…”
She frowned. “But?”
Now for the hard part. “I went to find you backstage, and saw you kiss this guy. I’d brought you flowers, and sort of figured that would be awkward for everyone. So I…left.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal. Like it hadn’t weighed on his chest for weeks after.
Like he couldn’t still picture those mangled rose petals lying in the bottom of the trashcan outside the theater.
Her eyes softened with compassion. “You brought me flowers.”
“I did.” He winced. “I also threw them away.”
She nibbled her lower lip. “You were going to ask me out, weren’t you?”
Full confession time. “I hadn’t stopped thinking about you since that night at the Lazy Spoon.”
Her brows shot up.
Too far. He backpedaled. “I mean, I dated other women over those years, of course. But you were always in my head as this what-if. What if I had asked you out that night the alley, before your friends took you away? Before you ran off to join the circus.” He laughed. “It’s stupid.”
She frowned. “It’s sweet.”
“It’s pointless… friend .” There. It was out.
She straightened her shoulders, turning slightly to face the rain. “For the record, I regret that kiss.”
“Why?”
She kept staring forward. “A lot of reasons.” Then she abruptly turned to face him, her eyes teasing. “Mostly because it was a pretty bad kiss.”
Her smile untied the knot in Cade’s stomach. “It looked pretty bad, honestly.” Back to banter—their friendship safety net. Security flirting. Also, he had to admit—hearing the guy wasn’t a good kisser was a nice way to end their shared day together.
Rosalyn smirked at him, looking way too cute for her own good with her rain-slicked hair. “Like you could do any better.”
He lifted his chin, pretended to brush something off the shoulder of his shirt. “I haven’t had any complaints so far.”
The wind picked up, blowing rain into their private alcove. She inched toward him, close enough again to send citrus waves of torture his way. “You know something?” she asked. “Maybe I don’t even remember that kiss.”
He should step back, give her more room to get away from the rain. But her eyes held him hostage. “You just said?—”
She looked up, pretending to think. “No, I’ve definitely forgotten about it.”
She’d moved closer. That, or the magnetic pull between them had finally activated and taken matters into its own hands. And speaking of hands, his were back on her shivering arms, fully by instinct, wanting to keep her warm.
Even though their cozy little spot by the door suddenly felt like a furnace.
He rubbed her shoulders, her skin cool under his palms. “You forgot, huh?”
“You’ll have to remind me what the kiss looked like.” Something flirty and uncertain flickered in her eyes. She tilted her chin up in invitation.
Despite the gray rain drenching everything in sight, the city streets flared in vivid Technicolor as Cade’s senses spiked. This wasn’t real. It was a dream. The splashing of puddles and the low rumble of thunder echoed as if through a faraway tunnel. His heartbeat thudded in his ears.
Then Rosalyn’s whisper broke through the hollow noise. “Was it like this?” And she reached up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his.
Dream and reality merged into one. He kissed her in return, his hands finding her waist and holding lightly, as if she might crack. As if they might shatter.
Her fingers clenched his shoulders, her breath warm against his neck as she eased back, cautious, lines of uncertainty etched across her face. She was waiting. For approval? Permission?
She had it all.
Cade pressed his forehead to hers, his pulse racing. “I think you’ve made a mistake.”
Rosalyn wilted. “Oh.”
“It was more like this .” He tugged her into him, and she crashed against his chest as his lips found hers again with confidence. She whimpered, returning the kiss with equal fervor.
Time seemed to slow. The rain flowed faster, providing a sheet of privacy around their awning as her arms snaked up around his neck. Her delicious scent took him back to high school, when her hair would brush against his arm every time she leaned across their shared table in the library. To those late-night debate team sessions, when she’d often save the seat next to her despite their being on opposite teams.
Maybe he’d been too intimidated by her and her friends back in those school days. Too easily dismissed at the Lazy Spoon.
Today, he was none of those things.
It was only him and Rosalyn. And the steady downpour of rain finally giving him the opportunity to make up for lost time.
Cade deepened their kiss, feeling Rosalyn press into him as if she couldn’t get close enough. His hands on her back, tugging her closer, acknowledged the struggle. She was shaking, and he didn’t think it was from the cold anymore.
That made two of them.
He lifted her slightly off the ground, turning her back to the brick wall of the shop as the kiss continued. Her fingers brushed the ends of his hair, setting his neck alight with nerves. His body hummed as the fervency of their kiss slowed, becoming more and more intentional.
It was getting difficult to breathe. But he’d collapse to the pavement before he pulled away first.
As if reading his mind, Rosalyn turned her face to the side, gulping for air. His heart pounded like they’d run ten miles instead of two blocks.
“This time you’re mistaken.” Rosalyn leaned back, palming his chest with both hands. Her eyes were glassy, her cheeks flushed. “Because I can assure you, the kiss in the theater was nothing like that.”
That was a relief. “And for the record, you can now consider that valedictorian bet paid off.” Cade closed the slight distance between them, wrapping her into a hug. “I should’ve made good on that a long time ago.”
He could feel her smile into his shoulder.
Cade rested his cheek on the top of her head, willing his heart to slow. To not thunder in her ear.
But she didn’t seem to mind as she looped her arms around him and relaxed. The rain began to let up, as quickly as it’d begun. As if it’s entire purpose had been for them. Maybe it had.
Then slowly, Rosalyn began to stiffen.
“Don’t do that.” Cade tightened his grip, as if she might vanish with the storm. “I can tell you’re already over-thinking.”
“Cade…” Her voice pitched.
“I know, we had the whole friends talk. But…give it a minute.” He pulled away, but only far enough to smile down at her. “We’re a gumbo. We need to simmer.”
But she didn’t smile back. “Cade.”
And just like that, reality replaced the dream. He let his arms fall to his sides. “I told myself I wasn’t going to cross your line.”
Her shaking hands adjusted her ponytail. “You didn’t. I kissed you.”
“We kissed each other.”
She grimaced. “I started it.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, warring against the temptation to pull her back against him. “That you did. So why fight this?”
Her eyes darted to the side, then to their feet. “I have my reasons.”
“Which are?” He ducked down, trying to catch her gaze.
“It’s getting harder to remember them, I can assure you.” She ripped the ponytail holder from her hair and twisted it between her fingers.
Was she tearing up?
Cade gestured between them. “We can go as slow as you want. I promise—I make an excellent tortoise.”
“You don’t understand.” She wrapped the tie around her wrist, then appeared at a loss for what to do with her hands. “I know it’s confusing.”
“Very.” Frustration rose in his chest and he fought to tamp it down. But the sudden crash back into reality—her version of it, anyway—was more jolting than he could handle. He wanted to go back to the dream world. The world where it was them and everything made a lot more sense. A world where Rosalyn confided in him and needed him. “I’m not seeing these reasons you keep talking about.”
“I can’t do this.” Her voice cracked. “I’m not—I’m…”
“What? You’re what ?”
She shoved her hair behind her ears and met his gaze directly. “I’m married.”
Cade stilled. His heart stopped pounding, the rain stopped falling, and the wind stopped blowing. The world stood silent, all color bleeding to gray. His stomach dropped out from under him and he swallowed. Then nodded once. “I’d say that’s a pretty good reason.”
* * *
He wasn’t supposed to find out that way.
Or at all.
Rosalyn shoved her hands through her hair, now rapidly frizzing in the post-rain humidity, as she followed Cade through the French Quarter. Her stomach cramped with nerves. That hadn’t gone the way it should have. “Cade, wait.”
Without looking, he continued pushing through the crowds, heading for the parking lot where they’d left his Audi. “We’ve got to get back.”
Rosalyn struggled to keep up. Oh, why had she told him? That amazing kiss had thrown her off. Made her wish for things even a genie couldn’t grant. Then the guilt had slammed, stealing her breath. Cade didn’t deserve this. She’d wanted so badly to backpedal into friendship, but there was no going back after a kiss like that, was there?
They’d played with fire today, and she’d burned them both.
“Cade, please.” He’d pushed for a reason as to why she’d changed course suddenly…which was understandable but had also forced her premature confession out.
But he didn’t understand the whole picture. She barely understood the whole picture.
She trotted faster, weaving around a baby stroller and a man walking a bulldog on a diamond-encrusted leash. “Let me explain.”
Cade spun around on the sidewalk. “I don’t know that you can.”
She rocked backward. There it was. The expression she’d never wanted to see on Cade’s face when he looked at her—eyes cold and distant, jaw hard and set.
She’d lost him.
Rosalyn forced her hands to stop shaking, wishing she could throw herself back in his arms and forget the rest. She opened her mouth, but her words stuck. Now that she had his attention, she wished she didn’t. Zydeco music drifted from a nearby patio—the sound of tourists having a good time after the storm.
Except she’d launched herself and Cade straight into a new one.
His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “Are you married, or aren’t you?”
So much story to tell—and it was hard to form coherent sentences when he was staring at her like that. She squeezed her hands into fists. “Technically.”
Sadness replaced the anger in his eyes. “Then that’s all I need to know.” He started to turn back around.
“Cade.” She grabbed his arm.
His face flushed. “Rosalyn, you’re off-limits. That kiss never should have happened.”
“You still don’t get it.” She pulled him off the sidewalk, around a corner into a gated, paid parking lot. Surprisingly, he let her.
“I need to tell you what happened.” Rosalyn tried to ignore the angst in his eyes, focus on the words she owed him. Yet another person she’d hurt with her bad decisions. “About four months ago, my agent Blaine came to me with a huge opportunity—a spot on an international troupe.”
“Blaine.” Cade crossed his arms. “Is he the guy I saw you kiss that night after your show?”
“Yes, but we never dated. I was so relieved that night to be back in America, that my first show back was a success.” She waved her hands. “Wait. I’m getting ahead of myself.”
He raised his eyebrows, his silence somehow more intimidating than his interruption.
Rosalyn took a ragged breath, shifting her weight to let a group of tourists with fanny packs push past them. This wasn’t where she’d intended to have this conversation—not that she’d ever intended to have it. “The only catch with the troupe was I had to pay up front for my spot, but that’s how these things usually go. You earn the investment back and way more while you’re touring. Blaine promised me a fortune if I stuck out the tour.”
Cade squinted. “I take it that didn’t happen.”
She shook her head. “He got the loan for me, figured everything out. I signed the papers, and we were good to go. First performance was in Greece, then Turkey. Then our third show was in Saudi Arabia.” She tried to control the tremor the mere words sent into her hands but failed. “That’s when everything fell apart.” She swallowed. “I guess I fell apart.”
Cade kept listening, arms folded, face stoic. Waiting for the marriage part, she was sure, but he had to— had to —understand along the way.
“The stress of my first world tour caught up to me. I’d been sick right before we left, and not up to my usual stamina at our first show. But I couldn’t scale back for this troupe. I had to prove myself.”
She knew that part he’d get, at least. She hurried to get past the rest. “I pushed too hard and started having anxiety symptoms. My body wasn’t healed, and now my mind was in constant overdrive. I was surviving on not enough food and too much caffeine and, well, I had breakdown, I guess you’d say, right there in the outdoor arena.”
His eyes softened.
“I fell but caught myself at the last second. Sitting there on the ground under the fabric, stunned, all those people…it was too much. They whisked me away to the hospital, but I think it was mostly our troupe manager was embarrassed—he needed it to look like a physical issue and not a mental one. I guess it was both.”
She hadn’t said this to anyone yet, and recounting it made her taste sand all over again. Feel the desert heat on her arms. The roar of her heartbeat in her ears. “Blaine tried to cover for me, but he didn’t understand what was happening either. I couldn’t get control of my tears, my words, my racing heart. It was awful. And the hospital didn’t know what to do with me because I didn’t have any illness they could easily diagnose. So they transferred me to the mental ward.”
Cade briefly shut his eyes. “I’m sorry. That had to be…wow.”
“You have no idea.”
Her temples throbbed. “Scariest two days of my life. I wanted to go home—I knew I was fine, I needed a break. Rest. My bed. But I’d paid into this troupe and couldn’t stay. Now I was in debt. And the troupe manager wouldn’t speak up for me. I think he wanted me to stay out of the way. Blaine…” She swallowed. “He came to me, scared. Had to sneak in the ward, they wouldn’t let him in my room since I was a single woman. He said I had no rights there as a woman to release myself.” She hesitated. “Unless I was married.”
Cade grimaced. “I think I see where this is going.”
“Blaine said we could annul it, that it wouldn’t be a big deal and we needed to get me home. Lying in that hospital bed, with barred windows and no one speaking English…it felt like the only way.”
Tears burned Rosalyn’s throat. “I was desperate. So he made some calls and paid for some favors, and we legally got married. He handled everything and got me out of there. Got me home.”
“And now he’s your husband, but on a technicality.” Cade frowned. “Still? Didn’t you say all this was six months ago?”
“Apparently, it’s not easy to annul a marriage. He went to file it and learned we have to actually get a divorce. That’s the holdup now, wading through all that paperwork and waiting on the courts. It’s more complicated being international.”
A muscle jumped in Cade’s jaw. “I see.” He scrubbed his palm over his chin. “That’s a lot.”
“I know.” She hesitated. “It is for me too, trust me.”
His eyes locked on hers. “Do you care about him?”
“About Blaine? No . Never like that.” She adamantly shook her head.
Cade rocked back on his heels. She couldn’t tell if he believed her. “The crying earlier today on the phone though…that was about Blaine.”
She nodded. “But not in the way you think.”
“And the kiss?”
“I was happy to be back. Blaine saved me from that hospital room in Saudi Arabia, and I was swept up in the performance—my first one where I felt stable again. Like all of that other stuff was behind me.”
But it hadn’t been. Still wasn’t. Could she tell Cade the rest of the repercussions she was fighting? By the way, the Mafia might be after me…
Or would that make him dismiss all of it as an unbelievable story?
As if confirming her fear, Cade reached up and grasped the back of his neck with both hands. “I don’t know what to think right now, Rosalyn.”
“I understand.” She’d made horrible decisions for years, listening to Blaine. Seeking fame and fortune, going along with his wild plan. Giving him so much power over her career.
No wonder she couldn’t pray or hear God. She deserved what she’d gotten. She’d made her bed, so to speak, and couldn’t expect someone to bail her out of her own irresponsibility. She had to see this through on her own. Then maybe, when it was all over, she could have the clarity to listen to the right voices.
Or Voice.
“All was as well as it could be. Mentally, I was enjoying aerial again and performing stateside, taking big gigs to pay off the loan for the troupe that I never earned back. Blaine was working on the divorce paperwork, which we kept secret, obviously.” She sighed. “Then several weeks ago, I fell during a show.”
She kicked her injured leg out in front of her. When was the last time it’d actually hurt? Certainly not while she was racing Cade. And hardly at all since being back in Magnolia Bay.
Maybe she hadn’t wanted to heal.
She straightened. “I came home to recover, and now I’m in your circus and, well, that’s it.”
Give or take.
“This whole story feels like a circus.” Cade shoved his hands into his hair. “Rosalyn…”
“It’s the truth.” She hated how small her voice sounded. How small she felt with that disappointed look in his eyes.
But again, she’d done this to herself. She trusted the wrong people, took shortcuts, didn’t manage her own money or career…she knew better.
And she had no one to blame for their storefront kiss except herself. She braced herself. “Look, I know you’re mad. I can only imagine how I’d feel if you’d kissed me and then dropped that ‘by the way’ bomb on me.” She winced. “I don’t feel unavailable, if that makes sense. Except?—”
“Except you are .” Cade lowered his voice. “Because you’re not only caught up in a bunch of legal red tape, you’re also leaving Magnolia Bay again.”
“Right.” She nodded, the weight of that reality feeling oddly similar to the moment she’d landed on the crash pad. Maybe worse.
Cade held her gaze, as if he thought if he waited long enough, something could change. She’d stand there forever if that were true.
But it wasn’t.
She was not a free woman.
A few shops down, the door to the comedy club opened, and a group of men in ball caps ventured onto the sidewalk. A female voice carried after them, amplified by a microphone.
Cade’s frown loosened, and he eased back. “Want to go see who Bruno was talking about? While we’re here.” Was that an olive branch, or curiosity on his part?
Regardless, Rosalyn nodded, reached up to retie her damp ponytail. If there was ever a time to do like Mom had taught her, hide her crazy, pull herself together…“Sure.” They fell into step toward the club, tension still radiating from Cade’s taut shoulders, but not as much censure in his expression.
She wanted to fall back into his arms. That wouldn’t—couldn’t—happen. But at least now Cade knew. Most of her secret was out there.
The mic’d voice grew louder as they neared the door. “…don’t have kids. I mean, I’m not that far removed from the teen years myself. But I know one thing coffee beans and teenagers have in common…they’re always getting grounded.”
Chuckles erupted.
Cade’s eyes grew round. “No way.”
She paused, not recognizing the voice. “What?”
Without answering, he tugged Rosalyn toward the venue and caught the heavy red door before it closed. Rosalyn blinked against the dim lighting, waiting for her eyes to adjust. A woman stood silhouetted on stage under bright lights.
“I told you I was a barista, right? I’ve got stories, man. People are weird.” She waved her hand in the air.
The crowd murmured in agreement.
The familiar-looking figure continued. “Like the other day, a bunch of customers started getting rowdy.” The comedian paused. “It was a total brew haha.”
A young hostess approached the vacant stand next to Rosalyn. “I’m sorry, we’re no longer selling tickets. This show is almost over.”
“Oh, we got what we needed, don’t worry.” Cade looked at the stage, then at Rosalyn, and grinned. For a moment, the drama of her exposed secret seemed suspended in another time.
She glanced between him and the stage, then clamped her hand over her mouth as the comedian stepped further into the spotlight. “Is that?—”
“Thank you, thank you.” The dry voice deadpanned on as the crowd applauded. “I would say I’ll be here all night, but that’s a lie. My segment ends in about five minutes.” Then she shaded her eyes with one hand and peered toward the door.
Cade offered a casual wave and a grin.
A mild expletive fell into the microphone.
He laughed. “Yep, that’s Miley.”