23. Chapter 23
Chapter twenty-three
I ’m greeted not by Rory’s Jeep in the driveway for my morning shift, but Cade’s truck. It’s a welcome surprise, even if he engulfs me and my stupid, stupid heart in flames every time we see each other lately.
“Why are you here?” I ask him as I get in. “You have today off.”
“And now,” Cade says, putting the truck in reverse and backing down the driveway, “you do, too.”
“How?”
He clears his throat. “I may have offered to do the dishes in the apartment.”
I clutch my chest, looking at him doe-eyed. I’m playing it up for Cade’s sake, but my heart squeezes at the thought of him doing something so grandiose. And for my benefit, at that. “Cade. Mr. Deans, I think you’ve outdone yourself.”
“It’s not for you,” Cade says, jaw ticking. My chest tugs. “It’s for your stress levels.”
“And to you, those are two entirely separate things?” I clarify.
He nods once. Oh-kay. “You got a tattoo to prove to me you’re a badass. I’m going to take you on a date day to prove that your advice is working.”
Cade Deans, taking me on a date.
Never thought I’d see the day.
“A date day? That’s not very Cade Deans.”
“It’s not,” he agrees. “But a tattoo isn’t very Gigi Knox, now is it?”
Checkmate. “I didn’t get the tattoo to prove anything to you,” I bite back, the heat from my chest floating up to my hairline, then back down right between my legs. “But I think you kissed me on the Ferris wheel to prove something to me.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. Like you needed to prove you’re capable of doing something soft and sweet to a woman while she’s still clothed,” I joke.
He winces as I softly shove him. “Ah.”
“Am I wrong?”
Cade’s jaw pulses. “We’re starting at Brew,” he says, “for our usual.” My brain repeats our usual over and over and over. Our. “Then once we’re bored with that and get hungry, we’ll go to our other usual spot. Then I was thinking we’d spend some time at the boardwalk, maybe the beach if you feel like it.”
“Coffee first sounds heavenly,” I say. “My eyes are burning from how tired I am.”
And now my brain is thinking about how your brain is subconsciously making us an us.
“If you want, we can ride the Ferris wheel again,” Cade says as we pull in front of Beach Brew.
My chest stings, my breath hitches. The fire burns on. “I can’t bear the thought of putting you through that again,” I say.
Cade pulls the door to Beach Brew open for me, and I slip under his arm. “I’m alright, princess. Plus, I didn’t really get to take in the view last time.”
I swallow. He took in a view last time—a beautiful one. Not more beautiful than Geddington Beach from the top of the boardwalk Ferris wheel, though. He deserves the chance to see the real view if he wants it.
“You were occupied elsewhere,” I chide.
“I was,” he agrees, his eyes skating over my face. “Most definitely.”
We get our coffee and we’re on the way to the Pizza Ice Cream Parlor as Cade says, “Mind if we…?”
And before he finishes his statement, I say, “Of course we can go see your shop.”
The lopsided smile he gives me nearly stops my heart.
“How many times have you driven out here and just stared longingly into the windows?” I ask as we pull into the building’s parking lot.
“I plead the fifth,” Cade says. That makes me laugh.
“Still nothing from Eddy.”
“Still nothing from Eddy,” Cade confirms with a sorrowful edge. “Sorry, I jumped the gun on telling you I got it.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets, taking the few steps to the building’s front door. Even though he knows it’s locked, he tries to pull it open.
I follow him, peering into a window. It’s the same every time we look—empty, but full of potential. “I’m sorry for you,” I say. “Waiting has to be killing you.”
Cade’s jaw clenches, and he clenches and unclenches a fist. “I’m alright,” he lies. “I just want it. Bad.”
“I know,” I say. “Don’t worry,” I touch his elbow, and he turns to look at me, “good things come to those who wait.”
Cade narrows his eyes, gray slivers piercing into me. “What bullshit did you just say to me?”
“A positivity mantra,” I tell him. “Maybe waiting patiently for the shop will make it all the more sweet once it’s yours.”
“You’re insane.”
“No, I’m not,” I declare with a grin. “Just hopelessly optimistic.”
“And hopelessly romantic,” he says with a smirk.
“That I am,” I agree as I turn on my heel and saunter back to the truck. “And I’m not ashamed to admit it.”
His gaze burns the back of my head. When I settle into the truck, Cade has already moved on, his back to me as he surveys the shell of all of his hopes and dreams.
My throat closes the moment I notice his shoulders sink.
When we’re eating lunch at the Pizza Ice Cream Parlor, I say, “I’m still thinking about pizza ice cream.”
“Oh, yeah?” Cade says from behind crust.
I nod. “Meat lovers ice cream.”
“Cheese ice cream,” Cade says as he chews, “sounds so gross.”
“I’m convinced they attempted it,” I say with a nod of finality. “Then realized it was a failure and decided to keep the two entities separate.”
“Should have gone the ice cream pizza route,” Cade offers. “Hot fudge sauce, cookie crust.”
“Sprinkles instead of shredded cheese.”
Cade grins. When he’s really happy, he has a smile just like EJ’s—wide, all teeth, and it screams I’m happy to be alive . I don’t see it from Cade often, but I see it from EJ constantly.
How can someone so stormy be related to walking sunshine?
“What’s going on in your head?” Cade asks.
I look up from the pepperoni slice I’m picking at, pulled from my analysis. “Huh?”
“Did you have another issue with Belinda? You looked bothered. Or something.”
I shake my head, the heat of embarrassment climbing up, up... “Nothing like that. Just Deans Brothers science.”
A divot forms between Cade’s eyebrows. “Explain. If I think it’s a stupid answer, I’m not buying ice cream this time.”
I roll my eyes. “Your brother is so happy-go-lucky all the time. And you’re the opposite. Why?”
Cade swallows, his lips thinning. “I’m extremely happy-go-lucky, Gigi.”
I shake my head. “Not even close. I know happy people. And you aren’t one.”
He scoffs. “Now you’re not getting ice cream, princess.”
I roll my eyes yet again. If I do it any more today, I’m afraid I’ll get dizzy. “I’m serious. How is your brother so happy, and how are you so dark and broody?”
“Dark and… broody?”
“Yes. All nothing works out for me; I’m dark and twisty and mysterious and unlovable .”
Cade’s jaw does the thing. “Can’t deny reality.”
“Your reality is so different from everyone else’s,” I tell him. “I may not agree with your avoidance of serious relationships, but you deserve to be loved.”
“Alright.” Cade waves a hand, pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s enough, Dr. Phil.”
I frown. “I’m not trying to sound like a psychologist. I’m just saying, you’re likable.”
Cade levels his gaze at me. “Depends on who you ask.”
“I like you,” I reply, tearing my eyes from his. “I hope that counts for something.”
“You show it in weird ways,” he says.
I look at him again and his eyes glisten, a smirk playing on his lips as he picks at his pizza slice. “So do you,” I tell him, returning the levity. “Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it, regardless.”
Cade looks down at his pizza, smiles like it just told him his lifelong dream is coming true. “Ditto,” he mumbles.
“So,” I begin weakly, “still in the mood for ice cream?” I’m hazy from the moment, and I blink, trying to center myself once more. My blood pressure is well above healthy limits right now, my heart hammering in my chest like a jackhammer.
Cade clears his throat. “Yeah,” he says dryly, not meeting my eyes. “I think so.”
He’s up and walking away before I can protest. He’s back before I can calm myself down, plopping a dish of ice cream in front of me. “Two scoops of strawberry today,” he says as he resumes his seat across from me. He grins the too-happy EJ grin. “A special occasion.”
I smile behind my spoon. I take the utensil away from my mouth with a theatrical pop! Cade narrows his eyes at me. “To special occasions,” I say as I raise the plastic spoon into the air between us.
Cade’s eyes look to the spoon poised in the air, then shift to me. A smile spreads across his face as he raises his spoon and connects it with mine with a soft clank!
“To special occasions,” he replies smoothly, his smile still evident.
“To us,” I add, a giggle breaking through. Heat rises up my face.
“To you,” he supplies, chuckling. “The reason for it all.”
My legs turn to jello. I’ve never been more thankful to be sitting down. I drop my spoon back into my ice cream, capturing a spoonful. “Care to tell me what you mean by that?”
“Well,” Cade says through a sigh, “we wouldn’t be here if not for you teaching me how to do this properly.”
I smile up at him. “You think?”
He guffaws, gray eyes meeting blue. “Princess. Trust me, I know .”
“Thank you,” I tell Cade as the sunset spills into the sky. We’re at the boardwalk, where we stopped for cotton candy and a second ice cream. I’m glowing as bright as the sunset above our heads. “This has been such a fun day.”
He reaches into the bag of cotton candy I’m holding, pulling out a chunk. “You needed this. You deserve a break, even if you don’t think you do.”
My heart squeezes. “This has been the best not-date I’ve ever had.”
Cade doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Me, too.”
I fight the smile that wants to spread across my face. “You’re good at taking a girl on a date for a guy who doesn’t want to date.”
“Learned from the best,” he says, his arm stretching out behind me on the bench. “Is there anything else you wanna do?”
I bite my lip. Now or never, Gigi. “I always thought the Whack-A-Mole game looked fun. I’ve never played it.” The heat of embarrassment rises at my request. “But that’s silly.”
“This is your day,” Cade says, getting to his feet. “If you want to whack a mole or whatever, we will.”
Cade ends up playing the game on my behalf. We realize rather quickly that I’m not the kind of person who should be confident with her strength, or lack thereof, behind a mallet. A few swings, and Cade wins a prize.
“You pick,” Cade says. “It’s yours.”
“You played,” I counter as I survey the array of stuffed animals hanging above the head of the bored booth worker in front of us. “You pick.”
“I’ve never won a girl a stuffed animal at a fair before,” Cade counters.
The worker is looking at us with an expression that screams I don’t get paid enough for this.
“Um.” I flash apologetic eyes at the worker. “We’ll take a… seahorse?”
“A seahorse?” he confirms.
I nod, still uncertain. He hands it to me, and as we walk away and I survey the beady eyes, Cade says, “A seahorse?”
“You should’ve picked!” I exclaim. “I don’t know. I’ve never chosen a prize before.”
“I like it,” he says. “It’s cute.”
I roll my eyes. “I think we’ve covered everything on the carnival date bucket list.”
Cade shakes his head adamantly. “I think I need a redemption arc with the Ferris wheel. I didn’t appreciate it enough last time.”
I study his face, those gray storm clouds not backing down. “You’re serious.” He nods once. “Alright. Come on.”
He wrings his hands as we wait in line. Once we’re in the cart, his leg starts bouncing with anticipation. As we rise, the carnival crowd shrinking into ants beneath us, he captures my hand in his own calloused, rough palm.
I look down at our interlocked fingers, calm washing over me.
On the very top of the Geddington Beach Ferris wheel, as he looks out over the Atlantic and enjoys the pastels that paint the sky, Cade grins that too-happy grin.
My heart squeezes. I love you , I want to say.
The smile is evident in his voice as he says, “Thank you, Gigi,” into the top of my head, pulling me closer.
“For what?” I ask, looking up to find his eyes locked on me. My limbs liquify with want.
His gray eyes soften as he studies my face, no longer looking at the view. “Everything.”