17. Cade
Chapter seventeen
Cade
Last night was one of the best nights I’ve had in a very long time. Sloane spent the night at the estate, and it felt so normal to have her here. Liam enjoyed it as well. It’s been a while since we’ve had a female presence in the house, and Liam liked the fact that she could hold her own in Mario Kart, something I can’t do. Watching the two of them interact felt familiar, but also new. I didn’t realize how nostalgic I’d be for that feeling of having someone I care about be present for my son.
I take advantage of being alone with her now, watching her sleep peacefully beside me. She’s curled into my body, small and perfect. My fingertips stroke her arm gently as her breathing evens out. Her nose crinkles as her beautiful ocean-blue eyes open to meet my own crystal-blue ones. I smile warmly at her, pressing her closer to my bare chest as we stay nestled under my covers. She hums softly.
“I could get used to this,” I say as she giggles into my chest, pressing a kiss to my skin.
“Are you going soft on me, Cade Hart?” she teases, and my eyes widen with a wicked, playful grin.
“Well, I sure hope not. We’d have a real problem there,” I chuckle, raising my eyebrow at my own innuendo.
Her jaw drops, and she playfully swats my arm. I tug her on top of me, pressing my lips to hers. She smiles into our kiss, and we start getting lost in the bliss of being in each other’s presence.
“You’re naughty,” she murmurs before kissing me again and pulling away as she gets up, stretching. Her tank top rises, exposing her bare skin, and I soak up the view for as long as I can.
“Only for you,” I reply as she turns around and narrows her eyes wickedly.
She points her finger at me before walking around the bed to head to my bathroom. “Good answer,” she says before she walks inside.
I sigh contentedly, looking up at my ceiling, unable to contain the smile that threatens to consume my face. Has this woman completely wrecked me for anyone else? I think so. I think Sloane Bennett has officially managed to wiggle her way into my heart. I never thought I’d see the day that would happen.
She walks out, her face washed and her blond hair in a messy bun, and I have to look away because I’m that enamored by her. If I stare at her any longer, I’ll never leave this bed. Is that so bad? I’d say it isn’t, but my clients would say otherwise. And Liam wouldn’t have it if I kept Sloane to myself.
“What are your plans for today?” she asks as she turns to look at me.
I sit up, stretching, rolling my neck, and rubbing my arms tiredly. “I have a conference call today, but nothing else, really. What about you?” I ask, assuming I will have to take her back to her parents’ house for her to do more wedding preparations.
“Well, I need to meet with Mike later to talk about how the operation went yesterday with the RVPD,” Sloane answers. “And I figured I’d work on my collection.”
I sit up straighter at the mention of the plan the police department set up last night. I managed to offer as many services as I could on short notice. I wish I could have done more, but I hope what I could provide was enough.
I get out of bed and stretch my back, listening to the cracks and snaps. When I look over at Sloane, her eyes are dancing along my exposed torso like I’m a feast. I lick my lips and bite my bottom lip as I take in the effect I have on her.
The feeling is very much mutual, love.
And as much as I’d like to get lost in my impure thoughts with Sloane and turn them into reality, we have to get our day started. I’d like to make sure I’m available when we make contact with Mike. So I push those thoughts down for another time and walk past her to get dressed, but not before giving her backside a playful swat on my way to my closet.
She yelps and jumps, and just when I think I’ve one-upped her, she comes up behind me and pinches my butt cheek. I hiss and give her a playfully dirty look. She smirks in challenge, but I let her have this one.
Next time, though.
It’s game on.
…
I walk upstairs after my conference call, rolling my neck to hopefully release some tension. Between permits and other aspects with the mayor’s office, the marina renovations are proving to be more of a hassle than I’d like. I’m still happy that I managed to purchase it so I can restore it to its former glory, but all the internal parts I need to bring it back up to code are taking longer to arrange than I thought.
This marina deal isn’t like becoming a silent partner to the local businesses, which continue to run as normal. The marina is owned by Hart, Inc.; no one else’s name is tied to it, as the owner didn’t want anything to do with it—that much is clear based on how little they kept it up.
I walk down the hall, and the smell of paint fills my nostrils. That’s something I have to get used to. At least it’s good for clearing the sinuses.
When I reach the open door, I see Sloane standing in front of a canvas, examining her creation. I lean against the doorframe as I watch her work. She steps forward, applies a few grays and browns to fill certain areas, then grabs another brush with red paint. She steps back again after adding the red, and I can see what she’s working on.
“I didn’t know laser-shooting dinosaurs were part of your collection,” I remark as I step inside the room.
She turns to look at me, rolling her eyes as I wrap my arms around her from behind. She leans against me as she looks it over. “I bet a cat riding a shark will also be a hit with the art collectors,” I whisper.
She laughs. “I can appreciate the creativity of a nine-year-old’s mind. Gives me a break from overthinking my actual collection.”
I hum, knowing the collection has been causing her a great deal of stress. I can’t imagine what that’s doing to her mental stability, on top of the wedding and the stalker, but I hope I can keep alleviating it however I can.
“I think he will love it,” I say, kissing her temple softly as she shifts deeper into my embrace. I pull away, and she turns to face me. “I have something I want to show you,” I say, taking her hand.
We walk out of her painting room, and I bring her downstairs to where my office is. Above my desk hangs her painting, Stop to Grin . Turns out, my generous contribution at the festival helped me secure the prize.
Sloane gasps when she sees it hanging up high, like a trophy that stands proudly for anyone who enters this room. And it is. I feel lucky to have won it over someone who can’t appreciate the woman who made the canvas. I feel fortunate that I can turn around in my chair, look at it when I’m feeling stressed, and remind myself to stop and grin, especially knowing who is behind it.
I walk over to the desk and take out a pen, handing it to her. “I was hoping you could sign it,” I tell her.
She shakes her head in disbelief. “It’s already signed on the back,” she says.
I smile, holding her wrist and guiding it to the painting. “I know, but I want whoever comes in here to know exactly who this is by.”
I run my hands over her arms, comforting her through her reservations. She nibbles on her bottom lip as she walks up to the painting, signing it in the lower right corner. When she pulls away, I see a small note paired with her signature.
Thank you for always being my biggest fan - Love, Sloane Bennett
I hold back my emotions as the weight of her note settles over me. We haven’t said it yet. The big word, though I’ve always loved Sloane one way or another. The word just holds a different meaning now. Not because I don’t feel it still, because I definitely do. It’s just going in a different direction I hadn’t expected.
“What was your inspiration for this, anyway?” I ask as we stare at the various brushstrokes.
She turns her head to the side and examines it before pointing to the painting. “Each movement was deliberate. I was feeling the pressures from my parents and conforming to what they wanted. It wasn’t until Mr. Mathers told me to humanize my work that I began to have motion in my feelings and use colors to evoke emotions.” She runs her fingertips along each stroke, staring at the painting like she’s been sucked into a memory she can’t escape.
Sloane’s phone rings, pulling her from her thoughts. She checks the screen and shows me Mike’s name on it. I nod for her to answer it as she takes a seat in one of the neighboring chairs in front of my desk while I get behind it. She puts the phone on speaker so we both can hear it.
“Hey, guys, can you hear me okay?” Mike asks.
“Loud and clear, my friend. How did things go?” I ask.
He groans on the other line. That doesn’t sound comforting whatsoever.
“Unfortunately, no one came to the house to drop a letter off, but the resources you provided for us, Cade, have been a big help.” He pauses for a moment as I listen to him tap on a keyboard on the other end. “Sloane, you let us have access to your work emails, which allowed us to track the IP address of where the email was sent.”
Sloane shakes her head, confused. “It was encrypted, though. I thought there would be no way to track it,” she says.
Normally, she’d be correct; however, with the contact I gave RVPD, I’m certain they were able to break through it.
“We were able to break through the encryption and find that it was sent from the Rose Valley Public Library,” Mike says.
I let out a chuckle. “Go figure,” I mumble. It’s an outdated approach, but an effective one. We don’t have logins to use the library computer, so the librarian could never track who was last on the computer. That will be my next endeavor: better security for the library.
“So, we know the person is local,” I say. “What else did you find?”
I take Sloane’s hand in mine, and I feel her tense up as she listens to each piece of information Mike informs us. All I can do is be there for her through this insane ride, and be her beacon of hope. I may not have all the answers, but I know I can provide her with as much emotional and physical support as she wants and needs.
“Well, we were able to find something from the library,” Mike says. I sit up straighter as Sloane does the same, waiting for more. “The librarian was able to check all the latest search history results on the computers, and one of them was for a website called ‘Stop to Grin.’”
I look back at Sloane’s painting right above my desk and quickly wake my computer up. I enter the website, and up pops a complete blog dedicated to Sloane, her work, and news on her.
Sloane gets up from her chair and looks over my shoulder. Her eyes widen in shock as she points to the screen. “They were in the house,” she whispers, horrified, and I look back at her.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
She nods furiously, pointing back at the screen to pull up a photo from one of the blog posts the person wrote.
“That painting is a painting I never intended to release,” she says. I look closer at it and notice how the painting’s various colors and strokes form my face. “I made it when I was angry at you, so I planned to redo the style for my collection. This painting… isn’t available anywhere. It’s in my bedroom, in my closet.”
Mike curses under his breath.
“This post is dated on the day Sloane received the first letter,” I say as Sloane and I exchange looks, realizing that if this person had time to drop off the letter, it makes sense they had time to enter the house beforehand. I can’t believe it. Sloane could have been there when this person showed up, but she was in Denver with me.
And her parents. I shudder to think what it would have been like if they had been there, too.
She folds her arms around herself, looking very uneasy. If the stalker was in the house, what else did they do? Did they take anything? Did they put anything in there?
One thing is for certain: I don’t feel safe letting Sloane stay at her parents’, but I know her. She won’t want to alter her plans.
My ears perk up as Mike’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “We got a name,” he says.
“What is it?” I demand.
“His name is James Pickens. Does that name ring any bells?”
I look to Sloane, who frowns and shakes her head. I’ve been working with many people in this town for years, and James Pickens doesn’t stand out to me whatsoever, which makes me think he isn’t a local, but he’s in town.
“We only have one bed and breakfast in this town, so he has to be hiding out there,” I reply.
I hear Mike’s chair squeak on the other end as he gets up. “Yup. We’re gonna head out there now and talk to Bernadette. I’ll let you know if we find him,” he says before ending the call.
I exhale deeply as Sloane stands beside me silently. I turn and take her hands in mine.
“This will be over soon. I promise,” I tell her softly.
She grimaces at me, but kisses my head gently before stepping back. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she says before slowly walking out of my office, leaving me with my thoughts.