Chapter Two
Adrienne
I follow Caden to his vehicle, surprised to find him making his way toward a sleek, pearl white Tahoe. I stop in my tracks, trying to wrap my head around the fact he’s driving an SUV.
“What’s wrong?” he asks after unlocking the doors with the fob.
Giving my head a little shake, I reply, “I wasn’t expecting the mom SUV.”
The corners of his mouth curl up, and when he smiles his entire face lights up, making his blue eyes sparkle beneath the security lighting off the buildings. “What did you expect?”
“I don’t know, but not this. A Camaro? Maybe a Mustang? Something that goes from zero to sixty in about five seconds.”
He chuckles, leading me around to the passenger side and opening the door for me. Once I’m seated, he shuts the door and jogs around to the driver’s side. Once he’s inside and belted in, he starts his SUV and backs out of the parking spot. “Well, while I’m not opposed to speed, I like the space and luxury,” he says, reaching the roadway. “Which way?”
“Oh, right, please. I’m in the Conrad townhouses,” I tell him, certain he’ll know which building I’m talking about, since the eight-unit townhouse buildings are well known by locals.
He nods, pulling onto the street and driving toward my home. “Anyway, I drive a work truck all day, so when it comes to my personal vehicle, I prefer comfort. This pretty girl has all the bells and whistles. She’s shit on gas, but you can’t beat the air-conditioned leather seats, and the Bose ten-speaker surround system.”
I run my hands over the smooth-as-butter seat. “Very nice, Mr.—Wait, what’s your last name?” I realize quickly I’ve been in town four months or so, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard Caden’s last name.
Caden laughs again, and I have to admit, it’s a really nice sound. I’ve heard it numerous times since meeting him after I started working at Burgers and Brew, it always amazes me at how sexy and natural his laugh is. Paired with his devilishly handsome good looks, I can see why women practically lose their minds—and their panties—when he’s near.
“Neumann. I usually see you working the lunch shift,” he says, heading toward the place I call home.
“Yeah, that’s my norm, but I pick up some nights when needed. Tonight, Kellen requested off so he could go see his sister perform at a charity function. It’s still wild to me that Kinsley McGregor actually lives in the same town as me. I mean, this is such a small place, and the Kinsley McGregor lives here,” I say, letting my fangirl show.
I’m not a huge fan of country music, but I love Kinsley. There’s just something about her soulful sound and meaningful lyrics that speak to me. She’s quit touring as of recently, but will still do the occasional pop-up show, usually for a charity function or small-town festival. She’s still writing though, and selling her songs to some of the biggest artists in the industry.
He smiles, making the appropriate turns to take me to my townhouse. “Pretty cool, huh? It’s not my usual genre of music, but she’s got a great voice. It’s cool that she sings with Jameson every now and again at the bar.”
Turning, I give him my complete attention as I say, “We’re not promoting it, but she’s performing next Saturday night with him. Walker asked me to work. Apparently, on the nights she sings, the bar reaches capacity fast, and they add a third bartender. Plus Garreth. They don’t tell anyone except staff because if word gets out, it turns into a shitshow, fast!”
“I heard about the first time she sang there and the nightmare it caused leading up to it. We had people camping out on the sidewalk and trying to get tables the moment they opened. That’s why they have strict dining and entertainment policies on Friday and Saturday nights. You can’t sit at any of the tables without ordering food until nine o’clock.”
I nod. “Makes complete sense.” After a beat, I add, “You coming?”
I don’t know why my heart starts to pound a little harder as I await his answer. It’s not like I’ll be able to talk to him. We’ll be busier than all get out. I probably won’t even know if he’s there or not. But there’s a wave of anticipation at the thought of him being there, so I quickly tamp that down, stomping on that bubble of excitement and popping it right where it lays.
“I might,” he replies casually. “I’ll be on call, but that doesn’t mean anything. I just don’t drink those nights. Jack and Stevie will have his kids, but maybe I can sweet-talk them into getting a sitter and coming up with me. I still can’t believe she’s BJ and Jameson’s long-lost sister.”
“Wild, isn’t it? This is exactly the small-town drama I didn’t even realize I needed in my life,” I state with a chuckle.
I met Stevie, who is a server at Burgers and Brew, my very first day, and basically latched on to her as a friend. She’s quiet and thoughtful, while I’m loud and slightly impatient. We make the perfect friendship pair. Since she arrived in town just a short time before me, she’s found her half-siblings and met the man who worships the ground she walks on. Jack is the father of two and Caden’s business partner. They’ve been friends since they were boys and ended up going into trade school together, and eventually, buying an electrical business and running it side by side.
“Stick around long enough and you’ll get your fill of the small-town drama,” he replies, but before I can ask him if he’s speaking from experience, he pulls into the small lot with Conrad’s townhouses.
“I’m the first one in the second building, unit five.”
There are two four-unit buildings with a grass walkway between them, and each townhouse is exactly the same. You enter into the kitchen, where there’s enough room for a small table and a couple of chairs. There’s a half bath beneath the stairs, as well as a closet with a stackable washer and dryer unit. Through the kitchen is the living room, which is decent sized. It contains a sliding door that takes you out to a small patio and a large, shared backyard. Upstairs has two bedrooms with a full-sized bathroom between them. They’re well-maintained and have affordable rent, and I was super lucky to secure one, especially for someone not from the area.
Caden parks in the spot my car usually sits. “We’ve done some electrical work inside these townhouses. They’re in good shape, and the landlord has lived here his whole life. Takes pride in his rentals.”
“I got lucky to get one. Mr. Conrad said he has a waitlist, but when I called to inquire before moving to town, he said the person waiting needed another couple of months before he could take possession, and since I was ready immediately, he offered the lease to me.” I’m not usually so open about stuff like this, but I realize how easy Caden is to talk to. He’s like talking to a friend.
He stares up at my home for a few moments before glancing to the units to the left and right. “You know, now that you mention it, I think I got lucky in one too.”
A very unladylike snort flies from my mouth. “Of course you did,” I retort with an eyeroll.
“Aww, come on, sugar. Don’t be jealous. You’re still my number one girl,” he insists with a singsong voice. He reaches over and tugs on one of my loose curls hanging beside my face, and the heat radiating off him warms my skin even without his touch.
Clearing my throat, I shake my head and reach for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride.”
Watching me, he releases his hold on my curl, a hint of a grin on his lips. “Are you going to invite me in?”
I narrow my eyes at him and dig deep at my sass. “You know, usually I get dinner out of a guy before I invite him inside.”
He grins widely, displaying perfectly straight, white teeth. “I could eat. I’m always a little hungry,” he suggests, making me laugh.
“It’s almost one in the morning. I’m not sure anything’s open,” I quip, playing along.
“Trust me, sugar. I could find us some dinner.”
I shake my head, the smile I wear seems to be a permanent fixture whenever he’s near. “Maybe another time, cowboy,” I reply, opening the door and slipping out of the SUV.
“I’m gonna hold you to that, Addi.”
And just like that, the light, easy banter dies a hard, painful death. Hearing that word—that nickname —causes my heart to drop to my stomach and bile to rise in my throat. It’s not just the use of that nickname either, but I hear it differently. Like nails on a chalkboard, it’s another voice calling me that name, not Caden, and it pisses me off immensely that it causes such a reaction with me still, even a year later.
“What? What’d I say?” he asks, the lightness he was carrying now replaced with a look of concern.
I force a grin and wave my hand, trying to downplay the reaction he clearly saw written on my face. “It was nothing, don’t worry about it,” I insist. “I’ll see you around, Caden.”
Just before the door closes, I hear, “I’m sorry, Adrienne. For whatever I said.”
The door shuts, cutting off any further communication and ending that particular conversation. Relief washes through me as I quickly walk to my townhouse and unlock the door. I slip inside, ignoring the urge to turn around and acknowledge him. It’s better just to keep my focus on what’s ahead of me, which right now, is a hot shower and my bed.
But even then, after crawling beneath my bedspread and burrowing into my pillow, I can still hear his voice. “Addi, you’re being ridiculous.” “Addi, why don’t you go to the gym more often? You’ve put on a few pounds.” “Addi, I’m sorry I missed your birthday dinner. I had to work late.”
A shiver sweeps through me, and not in a good way.
It wasn’t that long ago I thought I was in love. I wanted the whole forever package, tied together with a big red bow. But life doesn’t always work out the way you plan.
Sometimes, it’s better.
And right now, my life is definitely that. I live on my own, paying my bills and making decisions for myself. I’m doing what I enjoy for a living. Do I want to be a bartender for the rest of my life? Nope. But it provides me with the cash I need and the flexibility I crave. So until I actually figure out what I want to do with my life, I’ll continue on my current path.
As my nana said, I’ll keep doing me.
Speaking of “doing,” my mind shifts over to Caden. I’m certain he knows his way around the bedroom. That man screams sex. Everything from his gorgeous, rugged appearance to his cocky grin and his large hands. And believe me, I know what they say about men with large hands.
It’s true.
Large hands equal large cocks.
The problem is whether or not they know how to use it.
I’ve seen both sides of the spectrum. The thruster, who thinks fast and hard is the only way to go, and yes, while it can work, it’s not the only way to go. You need hip rolls, clit grinding, and your hands have to be willing to join the party. If you’re just going to thrust hard for three or four minutes, chances are the woman is going to be faking an orgasm just to end it.
Been there, done that.
Don’t recommend.
Then you have the other guys, who know how to use what God gave them. The ones who go over and above and add in oral. The ones who can dish it out just as good as they take, leaving you hot, sweaty, and completely spent at the end of your time together. The ones who know their way around a woman’s body and know all the right buttons to push.
Something tells me Caden is all about the attention to detail.
He’s a button pusher.
The thing about Caden is, we’re more alike than he probably realizes. I’ve heard all the rumors, the wild stories of his sexcapades. He doesn’t do relationships. Ever. He wants fun, and at the end of the night, is going to walk away, leaving both parties immensely satisfied.
Well, he’s not the only one.
I love sex. I’m not going to be shy or beat around the bush about it.But I’m not looking for a relationship. Happily ever after is a farce, a dream to sell greeting cards and engagement rings. Don’t get me wrong, it can work for some people, but for most, it’s a fantasy. I’ve fallen victim to the scheme myself in a past life, which is why I won’t touch a relationship with a ten-foot pole.
I know Caden would be more than willing to jump into bed with me, and that’s not entirely out of the question. He’s hot—super hot, really—and he oozes more sex appeal than any other man I’ve ever known. He screams good time, and I’m certain it would be just that. But I’m enjoying the hell out of this back-and-forth banter we always seem to engage in. It’s like foreplay, and all I want to do is prolong the game. Not that I’m looking at flirting and sex as a game, but there’s something about that man that causes goosebumps to erupt across my skin every time he’s near.
Flipping to my side, I wiggle to get comfortable. There’s a heated flush kissing my skin, and I know why it’s there. It’s not the fact I haven’t had sex since I moved here. It’s the idea of having Caden in my bed. I can practically feel his large hands caressing my body, first in a light, teasing manner, before his rough, callused hands turn a little more insistent.
My own hand slides down to the V of my legs, where I seem to ache a little bit more now I’ve been thinking about Caden. My body is a live wire, electricity and desire racing through me. I slip my fingers through my wetness, zeroing in on my clit. I know how to get myself off, and with the help of gorgeous Caden front and center in my mind, it doesn’t take long at all. I imagine it’s his hand between my legs, and my release hits hard after only a couple of minutes.
I cry out, my body shaking as I ride the waves of pleasure. I lie here, letting my heart rate return to normal, still picturing the one man I can’t seem to get out of my mind all of a sudden. He’s there, like a tattoo on my brain, and the wild part is, I’m thinking about him in ways I’ve never even experienced. It’s all fantasy.
Maybe a reality someday, but today isn’t the day.
After getting up and cleaning up, I climb back into bed and get comfortable again. I turn on the television and find some trashy reality show with rich housewives arguing and fighting over trivial bullshit. It’s the background noise I crave. Back when I lived in Cincinnati, I wasn’t allowed to have the TV on. Sullivan needed pure quiet, which was difficult to get used to.
He also slept with socks on, which was another big red flag.
I watch some of the action on the television, but I don’t really comprehend it. My brain is still actively focused on the man who gave me a ride home. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was surprised to find him climbing into an SUV. Sure, it was new and sleek and sexy in its own right, but I honestly thought he’d have some fancy sports car. He just strikes me as the fast, reckless, and dangerous type.
Probably why I’m so attracted to him.
He’s the exact opposite of everything I’ve ever known in my life.
And I know our time is coming. I can feel it simmering on the back burner.
Until then, I just need to keep doin’ me, because my happiness and my peace come first for a change. From here on out, I don’t care what a man says. I won’t conform or bend. I won’t let someone else tell me how I feel or what I want. I won’t stand there, giving someone else control over my future. I’m plenty old enough to do that on my own.
And one thing’s for certain.
I want Caden in my bed.
Once, twice, three times is yet to be determined, but as soon as that happens and I’ve worked him out of my system, I’ll move on, just the way I’ve done the last year.
I don’t need a man in my life.
I don’t need anyone but me.
Period.