40. Chapter 40 - Cade
The moment I stammered over the introduction, I knew I fucked up. If I couldn’t even be honest with the few friends I have here, what the hell am I doing?
Shit. I can’t even admit the truth to myself.
I’m letting my damn pride ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
When she won’t take my hand I know how badly she’s struggling.
I open the door to the truck and set the food inside on the floorboards, then turn to her. “Ros, I’m sorry.”
She stands to the side, one arm crossing her belly to grip her other. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I was one being dumb.” Her lips tremble as her eyes lift away from me, revealing the shine of unshed tears hovering on the edge of spilling.
Damn it.
Reaching for her, she lets me pull her into my arms. “I broke your dreams, Ros. Please forgive me?”
Her forehead furrows but her gaze finally meets mine. “I don’t—” Her cheek puckers where she bites it on the inside.
“You were hurt by someone who loves you,” I whisper, cradling her to me. All I can hope is that she feels the fierceness of my hold and the truth in my words. “I’ve been so afraid I couldn’t give you everything you need, that I held back the only thing you wanted.”
I run my thumb over her lower lip, then up to wipe the droplets hurtling down her cheeks.
“I just want you,” she whimpers, digging her fingers into my shirt.
“You have me, Ros. My heart belongs to you.” My palms frame her face, tilting her to finally do the one thing I’ve been longing for.
I press my lips to hers.
With a rapid inhale, she freezes in my embrace. Then with the softest touch, she lifts her fingers to light upon my jaw as she melts into me.
Fire rages within me to push for more, to crush her to me and own this sweet mouth that has teased me for weeks.
Instead I gently pull away, staring adoringly down at her pale lashes resting on her flushed, pink cheeks.
“I hated seeing the pain I caused, Ros.” My voice is hoarse with the agony of my own making.
“That moment when I saw the doubt and anguish, I knew I couldn’t lie to you, or myself, anymore.
” How can I protect her, be a shield for her against the world, if I can’t open the gates to my own walls and let her in?
“Cade?” She raises her fingertips to trace the scars on my cheek, then cups her cool palm over them.
“You’re my favorite person.” Her nose buries into the hollow of my throat and she lets out a shuddering exhale.
“I don’t want to be just a friend. But—” She raises her red-rimmed eyes to mine. “—I don’t know how to be more.”
Fuck. The emotion that surges through my body could move a mountain.
To truly be accepted by someone who has only ever experienced the absolute worst in the people who were supposed to love her is a privilege I don’t take lightly. I’d do anything to keep that trust.
My thumb smoothes the tension in her jaw then I press another kiss to her forehead. “Ros, you’re everything.”
The entire drive home, she clings to my hand like she’s hanging from a cliff and I’m the only tether.
As we walk up the short steps of the porch, I pause her at the door.
“Ros? I want a redo.” It’s been eating at me since this morning when I saw her falling in on herself.
“This isn’t your home or mine. It’s ours.
” I tug her closer, wrapping my hand around the small of her back.
“I don’t want you to sleep in the guest room. I want you by my side every night.”
She raises onto her tip toes, leveling her nose with mine. “I’d like that too.” Her arms slip hesitantly around my neck as she searches my expression.
Then those big blue eyes flutter closed to softly brush my mouth with hers.
This can be as far as we ever get and I can say I’ve lived the perfect life. Feeling her give in to her impulse, her body molding against mine, this is the definition of winning.
She drops back to her heels, another flush of red glowing beneath her skin. “I can see why people enjoy that.” Her tongue darts out over her smile to leave a glistening trail over her healed wound.
I’m a man reborn with a new purpose. My sole existence is to keep that contented lift to her lips.
“It’s dessert before our meal.” I grin down at her and lower my palm to pat her hip. “Let’s go inside and eat before our food gets cold.” I won’t give in to my own urges to push her for more.
Tonight was a huge step we both need to adjust to.
I know her well enough that it takes her time to get used to anything new. It could take weeks or months until she’s comfortable with anything more than a kiss. And knowing even a tiny percentage of the trauma she grew up with, I can’t pretend to predict how she’ll react.
She deserves my patience. I can wait.
Setting the wrapped boxes on the table, she stands nearby, wringing her fingers together while chewing on the inside of her cheek.
“Ros? What’s going on?” I stop to focus on her, seeing the anxieties warring within her.
“I don’t know where the plates are to set the table.” Her gaze flicks from me to the cabinets with the glaze of worry I’m starting to recognize.
I know better than to tell her to ignore it. “We don’t need them tonight but I’ll show you.” I hold out my palm for her to take.
The relief in her shoulders is instantaneous as she moves next to me.
I open every cabinet and every drawer, showing her where all the dishes, spices, and utensils hide. “You can rearrange this however you want.” I assure her. “Let’s look in the pantry, too.” I’m kicking myself for not doing this earlier.
She’s been raised to follow a strict set of rules. I wish I had a cheat sheet on knowing which ones will send her into a spiral when she falters.
“There’s a little step-stool here inside.” I flip on the light to show the mostly empty shelves. “We didn’t make it to the store tonight, so we can work on a pick-up order for tomorrow. How does that sound?”
“Easier,” she sighs. “Is it like ordering the clothes from the computer?”
“Exactly like that. We’ll get you a phone and your own laptop this week so you can buy whatever you want.” I manage to get her back to the table.
When she sits, I frame her knees with mine. “Ros, I have an idea that I think will help you in the long term.”
The corner of her mouth drops in a tiny frown as she stares at where our legs touch. “Okay?”
“There’s a therapist here who specializes in trauma. She’s taught me a lot about how to process the grief…and guilt.” I let out a ragged breath. I’ve agonized for years over something that wasn’t my fault.
“Am I that messed up?” She pinches her mouth into a taut line while picking at the skin at the corner of her nail.
Damn it, maybe I should have waited to bring this up?
Covering her hands, I cup them between mine.
“You’ve been in survival mode, which has forced you to hide your tender, beautiful soul.
” Bringing her fingers up, I touch the tips to my lips.
“I want you to be comfortable enough to own it. She might be able to help you in ways I don’t know how. ”
Her legs tremble between mine. “Do I have to?”
“No, you always have a choice.” I let her hands loose and move my knee to give her space, then start opening our luke-warm meals. “Just think about it. I want to give you every tool I have to help you heal.”
She picks up a soggy french fry and chews while her other hand drifts to rest on my thigh. “Thank you,” she whispers after a few moments. “I know I’m pretty fucked up.”
My jaw clenches in the frustration that seeps into my bones every time she drags herself down.
Standing, I pick up my empty container and carry it to the trash, then grab a cold beer from my stash in the fridge.
“Come here.” I motion her to follow me to the couch where I sit heavily into the thick cushions.
She hovers near me, hesitating.
“Here, baby,” I say hoarsely, patting my lap. “Let me hold you while I show you something special to me.”
Her forehead furrows before she folds herself across my thighs.
But then she sighs, relaxing into my chest. “I like this,” she murmurs, her fingers wrapping behind my neck.
“Me too.” I let my palm rest on her hip, enjoying the feel of her body curled against me. I don’t ever want to let her go.
Then I shift her enough to reach the blue-tinted Mason jar on the end table, lifting it to where she can see. “Hold out your hand.”
She does, cupping it for me to pour some of the smooth rocks into her grasp.
“They’re so pretty.” Twisting them in the light, the array of blues, greens, and reds tumble against each other. “What kind of stones are these?”
I set the jar down and pull her tighter.
“This—” I press a tender kiss to her temple.
“—is called sea glass. It’s when broken bottles or containers shatter on the shore then get worn by the crashing waves against the sand.
They endure immeasurable hardship that they didn’t deserve, yet come out beautiful. ”
I can feel her ragged breath before the tears fall on my arm. “After I moved down here, I’d drive down to the gulf to watch the crashing waves. Those little pieces of glass gave me the hope to keep going forward. That someday I’d survive the pain to be wanted again.”
“They’re like us?” she sniffles, dropping her head to my shoulder as she stares at the pebbles.
“They are. We were both knocked down until the right set of eyes saw our worth.” I never thought I’d find someone who would ever look at me the way she does. She sees the man behind the scars and has opened her heart to me in a way I never thought I’d find.
She knows the burden of my past, yet trusts me with her future.
I can’t ask for a greater gift.
Picking out a dusty rose hue, she holds it up with a tiny lift of her cheek. “I like this one.”
“It suits you. It’s the same color as those pretty lips of yours after we kissed.” I grin, sneaking a swallow of my beer as the rush of red rushes up her throat.
I can’t wait for the day I can lean in and chase it with my tongue.
Not tonight though.
She giggles deliciously, curling the smooth baubles into her clasp. “Really?” She turns to look at me, then reaches to stroke my jaw. “Is it weird that you’re my first?”
“It’s an honor.” A lump forms in my throat. Guilt tugs at the base of my skull.
I’m too old. She’s too vulnerable.
I shouldn’t let this happen.
But then her eyes close and she finds my mouth with hers for another tender kiss.
Every rational thought flees like a stampede of horses.
She’s mine until she chooses to be done.