28. Cas
CHAPTER 28
Cas
“Hop on.” I gesture to my motorcycle.
“If I had a nickel for every time a guy has said that to me,” Caroline says with a flirty smile.
I laugh. “Then I would say you have terrible taste in men. Except I know that’s not true.” I pop a helmet onto her head and lean in to do the strap. “You’re going to look very hot riding on my bike.”
“Too bad you won’t be able to see me.” Her voice is breezy, her smile relaxed and casual.
Caroline and Grayson arrived back from New York on Tuesday evening, and immediately Caroline had suggested the four of us get together for a glass of wine at our place. I had hoped it was for unexpected weekday sex, but it had been to discuss us making rules for our foursome on Saturday without involving her.
It wasn’t that I didn’t see her point—she definitely needs to be involved in discussing how we all engage in this relationship—it’s just that there hadn’t been time before she and Grayson left for New York to loop her in and hear her thoughts on the subject. Yet it also seemed if she and Grayson were alone, they were going to end up in bed together, and that might complicate things for all of us.
She was right that we needed to clear the air and make sure we’re all on the same page. It wasn’t a confrontation or anything like that, and she wasn’t upset. It was four adults having a rational conversation, and I was grateful that was how it played out. Not that any of us are irrational, but James has big feelings and Grayson likes to get his way. I do as well, if I’m being honest. I do love to hammer home a point with logic and facts. It’s why I became a lawyer.
The conclusion we all mutually drew is that no solo sex rule means just that—no solo sex. There are no loopholes or workarounds or walking the line.
Obviously, James and I are different. We’re married, we can have all the sex we want. But none of us guys can fuck Caroline alone.
I’m a little surprised that we were even having that conversation.
I had been certain that when she and Grayson jetted off to New York and played happy little family and spent the night in a hotel together, Grayson would have tossed our impromptu rules out the window, fucked her, and they would have recognized what I can see brewing between them.
They’re falling in love with each other.
Grayson admitted it without even realizing he had at the beach picnic.
Hell, maybe that’s exactly why he agreed to not fuck her alone. If he does, he’ll drown in his growing feelings and we all know she’s leaving in just a few weeks.
Caroline hasn’t said a word about her feelings for any of us, not even last night when she was discussing our foursome. For someone with a big heart, who seems to be an open book, she doesn’t indicate she wants anything more than casual from us.
Which I should take at face value. Caroline is an honest woman.
That leaves me with one conclusion—she hasn’t admitted to herself yet that she is falling for both Grayson and James.
It’s been obvious to me since the beginning that she isn’t just attracted to Grayson physically. It started out flirty and I think she felt compassion for him, having had fatherhood dropped on him so unexpectedly. He’s risen to the occasion, and she respects that and cares for him and they’ve bonded over Evelyn. Her eyes go soft when she looks at Grayson. Her smiles are different, deeper. Like when she looks at James.
Me? Not so much.
We have seen each other naked. I’ve been inside of her. I’ve done dirty, intimate things to her, and she has to me, but I wouldn’t say that we know each other.
This is the first time we’ve even been alone together.
And this only came about because she doesn’t have a car and needs to go to Charleston for a banking appointment.
I intend to take advantage of it, though, to get to know her a little better.
“I won’t be able to see you, but I’ll be able to feel your thighs squeezing mine and your tits draped all over my back and that has its own particular charms.” No sex is one thing, but there are no rules against innuendoes.
“How do you know I’ll be clinging to your back?” she asks as I climb on my bike.
“Because I like to go fast.”
“This is the sole reason you moved to the States, isn’t it?” She gestures to me on the bike. “You can’t look this sexy on a moped.”
That makes me laugh. “Maybe not the sole reason but definitely in the top five.”
She climbs on behind me and lightly wraps her arms around my waist. “You’ll have to give me the full list when we get there.”
It’s an easy ride to Charleston. The tourist traffic is winding down for the season and the weather is perfect. Slightly overcast, dry, little to no wind, and temperature in the low seventies. I don’t usually ride my bike to work because the weather is unpredictable. I can’t arrive at the office soaking wet or rumpled to hell and back, so this is a treat.
I also never have someone riding with me and I’m keenly aware of Caroline tucked up behind me, her legs clamped against mine, her pussy bumping my ass. She is holding onto me, but she’s not leaning against my back, probably just to prove a point. She can be a little stubborn. It’s something she and Grayson have in common.
My motorcycle gives me a sense of freedom. It’s why I love it. I have a logical mind, but I also tend to overthink. I can go in circles in my own brain and being out on the road with the roar of the engine drowns out my thoughts. The gym does the same for me. Pushing myself physically grounds me in the here and now instead of the cerebral.
I don’t sense that Caroline is that way at all. She lives in the moment. Not that she doesn’t have plans, because she clearly does, but that she appreciates where she is right now. Not looking back, not looking forward, just being. I like that about her.
It’s how James is as well, and I can see that is part of why they were drawn to each other as teens. They’re both outgoing and fun loving and confident without being remotely arrogant.
“That was incredible,” Caroline exclaims when we park in front of the bank and she pulls her helmet off. “Cas, I can see why you love riding. It feels so powerful.”
“Unlike a moped.” I take the helmet from her and smile.
She laughs. “Definitely not. Mopeds are convenient but a little whiny.”
To my surprise, the smile falls off of her face when she looks at the building in front of us.
It’s classic revival, with dominating columns and an austere presence.
She is taking deep breaths and looks like she’s bracing herself to enter.
Caroline isn’t in her usual uniform of leggings and a crop top today either. She’s wearing black linen pants, a color I don’t really associate with her, and a pale green lightweight sweater, a purse across her shoulder. I told her to wear close toed shoes and so she’s wearing striped sneakers. It’s not a dressy outfit, but different from what I associate her with.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
I’m wearing jeans and a button-down shirt. My plan is to take Caroline back home and then change and go into the office. I’ll just work an extra hour or two tonight. Or hell, maybe I won’t for once. I certainly dedicate enough hours of my life to my law firm.
“What?” Caroline shrugs. “Oh, I’m fine. I guess.”
She doesn’t elaborate as I lock up our helmets and my bike, so I press just a little. “Are you nervous about this banking appointment?”
I don’t know anything about Caroline’s financial situation. She doesn’t act like she’s concerned about money, but she did step in as Grayson’s interim nanny and she’s teaching classes at the baby gym. Maybe that’s out of necessity.
“No, the appointment is fine. I need to open an account in Colombia before I arrive there and I didn’t think the branch in Honeysuckle Harbor would be familiar with doing a foreign wire transfer.”
“Probably true.” We’re just standing on the sidewalk. I decide to wait for her to start up the stairs first. Something’s on her mind and causing her to hesitate—that’s clear.
Maybe she’s having second thoughts about going to Colombia.
Caroline reaches out and touches the leaves on a plant that is inside the giant concrete planter boxes lining either side of the imposing bank.
“I love plants,” she says. “I tell myself I’m not going to get any when I move and then I can’t resist and start collecting them again. Then when I leave, I have to rehome them. But I can’t stop myself. This is a purple coneflower. It’s super common all over the country and it’s hardy as hell, but look at how pretty it is. I’m surprised it’s here though, because they’re pollinators and attract bees.”
I’m not sure what to say, so I decide to just listen. She’s leading me somewhere and I want to let her take me there.
Then it comes out in a rush of words when she’s still running a finger over the velvety petals of a flower.
“My dad used to work here. He was a senior personal banker. He used to bring me here to show me around. He died when I was fourteen. Heart attack in his office, actually.”
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea you had lost your father.”
“Thanks. I just have both good and bad memories here, you know? But I don’t want the bad ones—knowing he passed away here—to steal away the good ones.”
“I understand that. My dad died when I was twenty-one in a car accident. I was away at university.”
Caroline’s head whips around, and she locks eyes with me. “Oh God, Cas, I’m so sorry. So you really do understand.”
“I do.” I reach out and take her hand, leading her to one of several benches. “Let’s sit for a minute. Tell me about your dad, about the good memories. Just the good ones.”
“His name is, was, Robert and everyone called him Rob. He was tall and intelligent—he read books so fast—but he also loved food and traveling and making dad jokes. So many dad jokes. When he would bring me to the bank, he would appoint me his assistant for the hour or two I was here and would have me get him coffee. I would work so hard to get the cream and sugar ratio just right and then he would tell his co-workers I had a fine eye for details. Honestly, Cas, that coffee was the color of biscuit mix—I had so much milk in it. I don’t even know how he drank it with a straight face.”
“Because that’s what dads do.” I give her a smile. “Put family photos on their desk and clap loudly at dance recitals and brag unabashedly about their kids. My father was the same way. He was quiet, but he was warm and loving. He used to twirl my mother around the kitchen and pat her ass, which was mortifying to us as kids, but now is a positive memory of being shown what a loving marriage was like.”
Caroline squeezes my hand. “That sounds lovely. How is your mother doing?”
“She’s okay. She has a full life with friends and family and my sister’s children. She skis and is a cyclist, and much like you, loves a good plant to nurture. How is your mother? Were your parents still married?”
She nods. “Yes, they were. She’s actually remarried and lives in Florida a few minutes from my sister, who has two kids. I saw them before I came here, but her love is a little smothering. She wants me to be all in on her husband and call him my stepdad, but I don’t really know him. I’m sure he’s a nice guy, but he’s her husband, not my stepfather. I’ve met him all of a handful of times and I was twenty-five when they got married. I don’t like that she pushes a relationship.”
“Have you told her that?”
“Yes, and she just tells me I have to accept that she’s married. I accept it. That doesn’t mean her choice of a husband is some kind of replacement to my father when I’m a grown woman. It’s like she wants to erase him and it pisses me off.”
“That is a perfectly reasonable response. So you stay away.”
Caroline suddenly grins. “I don’t travel because of her—that’s my own passion and desire—but it’s a bonus not to live in the same country. For right now, anyway.” Then she stands up. “We’d better go in or I’ll be late. Thanks for listening, Cas.”
“I’m sorry we share this in common, but it does make me feel less alone in my own grief, and I hope you feel the same way.”
“I do.”
When I stand up, I reach out and brush her hair back off of her cheek tenderly. I give her a soft, barely there kiss because it feels right and natural. Then I pull her into my arms and hug her. She hugs me back, hard.
“Noah is a very lucky little boy,” she murmurs into my chest. “You and James are great parents.”
That makes my chest tighten. “I love that little guy with all my heart. I can suffer the heat and bugs to give him a life surrounded by friends and family.”
“You still haven’t told me how you wound up in the US.”
“Ah, we’ll have to save that for another day. It’s nothing exciting and we don’t want you to be late.”
She pulls back and eyes me. “I feel like there is an exciting story there. A sordid tale of lust and greed and betrayal.”
I laugh. “Not even close. My father’s sister married an American man, and I came to visit them in Philadelphia and wound up staying.”
She wrinkles her nose. “You need to polish that story up because that isn’t exciting at all.”
“It only became exciting when I met James, who is the love of my life.”
“God, that’s so adorable.” She puts her hand in mine and swings them back and forth as we walk up the steps. “And baby makes three.”
“Yes.”
But as we hold hands like a couple of kids or an actual couple, I feel a strange tug in my chest.
This is way more complicated than I ever expected it to be.
And I’m not sure if that’s what any of us need in our lives.