Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
The following Saturday afternoon was blisteringly hot as Kari and I sat in her car outside of Cane’s house with the air conditioner blasting cool air. I picked at the hemline of my black bathing suit cover-up while Kari checked her makeup.
I had lost weight since the Simon ordeal, and my cover-up was looser as a result. My nerves were beginning to settle; I wasn’t looking over my shoulder as much as I had originally. The bruises had faded and every day felt like another day away from the craziness.
“Have you ever been here before?” I asked, looking up at the brown and ivory house before us.
It was a two-story home with a fence retaining both sides, encompassing the backyard.
The landscape was clean and tidy, a sprinkler going off as I watched.
It was exactly the kind of place I had pictured Cane would live in.
It was a gated community. All of the houses looked relatively new and relatively the same.
Cane’s house backed up to the golf course, which meandered its way through the subdivision, and I vaguely wondered if Cane played golf.
He had never mentioned it, and I couldn’t see his lack of patience faring very well on the course.
“Uh, no,” Kari said, looking at me like I was crazy. “Why would I have ever been here?”
“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d been here with Max.” I sighed. “I’ve only been here once before, and … I don’t know. What if it’s weird being here?”
“Why would it be weird being here?”
I shrugged.
“Well, he clearly wants you here, Jada. He asks you all the time to come, and you always end up getting him to come to my house. So relax.”
I took a deep breath and exited the car, not sure why in the hell I was nervous about this.
“Stop fidgeting with that ring,” Kari said as she forged ahead and rang the doorbell. As we stood there waiting on them to answer the door, we could hear music playing inside.
“Seriously? What are they listening to?” Kari asked, twisting her face in disgust.
“It’s Five Finger Death Punch. I heard it playing in Cane’s Denali the other day.”
“We’re going to have to fix that.”
The door flew open and Max stood there in a pair of camouflage swim trunks, sans shirt and shoes.
A dark tattoo ran up his left side, a mixture of art and words.
His left pectoral muscle had a tribal design, too.
His dark hair was wet and looked like he had been running his hand through it, the one presumably not holding the red plastic cup.
I stifled a laugh as Max smiled seductively at Kari.
“Hey,” Kari said in her flirtiest voice.
“Ladies,” Max said, eyeing us for a second before bending down and kissing my sister. “Come on in. Cane is out back.”
I stepped through the doorway and glanced around the great room.
The house was bright and airy. A black leather sofa and loveseat faced a large flat-screen television mounted on the wall, and there was a pool table behind the sofa.
Despite the selection of magazines on the coffee table, there weren’t many personal touches.
Everything was very masculine but organized.
We sauntered into the kitchen, and I could see Cane outside, tending the grill. He had on a pair of sunglasses and white swim trunks with a blue-checkered print that hung low on his hips. And that was deliciously it.
His body was golden brown and chiseled to perfection. He wasn’t too big and bound-up looking, just athletic and strong. I couldn’t help but whimper slightly at the sight; he looked like he walked straight out of a magazine.
Cane looked up and slowly removed the sunglasses.
He scanned my body, and a slow smile spread across his face.
He raised his hand and crooked his finger toward me, and that made me feel like Baby in Dirty Dancing.
I exchanged a smile with Kari, who was sitting on a couch in the family room off the kitchen, as I made my way to the back patio.
Cane wrapped me up in his arms and dragged me against him, his hands going up my cover-up and palming my ass. “For the love of fuck, woman. Forget the orange dress—this is my new favorite.” He bent down and kissed me roughly on the lips.
I giggled against his mouth and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Well, this is your best look. Clothes just detract from you, Cane Alexander.” I rubbed my hands down his chest. “Words don’t do you justice.”
“Words are messy, remember?” He winked at me. “And they are not necessary for what I have planned later. You will only need one, actually. My name. On repeat.”
“You aren’t burning that shit, are you?” Max asked, coming outside and breaking our moment.
“Oh, hell.” Cane laughed, turning to the grill and moving the steaks onto a platter.
I laughed as I went back inside to help Kari get the drinks. Max came in behind me.
My nerves had eased, replaced by a feeling of contentedness. I felt alive with Cane and comfortable in his home, not at all like the outsider I had feared. He didn’t seem to feel weird with me here either, which I had feared the most.
“I’m changing this music,” Max said, walking over to the deck and replacing Cane’s iPhone with his own.
“What are you doing?” Cane yelled through the glass.
“This shit is giving me a headache,” Max yelled over his shoulder.
“I can’t help your bad taste in music.”
“Ah, here we go,” Max mumbled before Florida Georgia Line began playing through the speakers. “He really loves this. He just doesn’t want to admit it.”
“No, I do not,” Cane shouted from the patio. “Your music taste is about like your football taste—it blows.”
Max chuckled as he turned his head to Kari and me. “Not sure why I like him, really. He’s irritable, a total asshole, likes shitty music, and the San Francisco 49ers.”
A tapping sound on the glass caught our attention. Cane’s face was close to the window. “I can hear you, you motherfucker.”
We laughed as we made our way outside and got settled around the glass table, filling our plates with the juicy steaks and potatoes that the boys had grilled.
“So what’s your deal with actual glass cups?” Cane asked Max, sipping on a bottle of water and nodding to the drink in Max’s hand. “Did you cut your finger or some shit as a kid?”
“Fuck off, Alexander,” Max said. “These are the perfect drink accessory.” He held his red cup in the air.
“See this bottom line?” He pointed. “This is the ‘liquor line.’ The second one is the ‘wine line,’ which, I may add, no man should ever use. Now the top one is the ‘beer line,’ but you can live a little and go over it if you want.”
“Wow. You’re getting all cosmopolitan on me. Next thing I know, you’ll want to add some color to your Sharpie tattoos.”
“Whatever. These tattoos were made with a needle,” Max said, drawing out the last word. “You’re too big of a pussy to actually get one.”
“No, I’m not. There’s just not anything that I want permanently etched on my body.”
“Speaking of you being a pussy, you’ve been drinking wine these days. No self-respecting man should ever drink wine.”
“You drink sweet tea. And you think wine is a bad thing?” Cane asked, barely containing his laughter. Kari and I couldn’t contain ours as we wiped tears away from our eyes with the backs of our hands.
“Don’t even start on sweet tea, or I’ll kick your ass. It’s the lifeblood of the South. That kind of talk will get you killed where I’m from,” Max said, trying to keep a straight face.
“Remind me to never go there,” Cane muttered.
“You’re such a fuckstick.”
“Whatever. You haven’t been south of the Valley since you were twelve, and you still won’t let go of this Southern boy routine.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Max said, shaking his head. “When you’re born south of the Mason-Dixon Line, it’s in your blood. It’s who you are.”
“It’s amazing that you can even function in society.” Cane grinned as he leaned back in his chair.
“Coming from you, the most asocial person I’ve ever met, that’s hysterical.” Max raised his eyebrows, fighting a smile.
“Hardly, Max. Everyone loves me.”
“Yeah. That was just how it looked yesterday with the City of Queen Creek. They loved you.”
A stormy look crossed Cane’s face as he narrowed his eyes and subtly shook his head at Max.
“Hey, is that your phone going off?” Max asked me, changing the subject with a quick glance at Cane.
“Um, yeah. I think so,” I said, digging through my bag until I located it. Heather’s name was on the screen. “I’ll take this inside.” I stood, and Cane stood, too. He grabbed some empty beer bottles and joined me in the kitchen.
“Hello?” I grabbed a seat on the couch. Cane tossed the bottles into the trash and threw some silverware into the dishwasher.
“Hey, Jada,” Heather said cheerfully.
“Hey. How are you?”
“Fabulous. I’ve been with Brian at rehearsals today. So fun.” I could imagine her smile through the phone, and it made me grin.
“You really like him, huh?”
“I do. I didn’t think I would when I agreed to dinner, to tell you the truth,” she said. “But he’s really fun and a total hottie. Much smarter than I thought he would be. Go figure that. Anyway, what’s going on with you?”
“Not much,” I said, watching the muscles in Cane’s back flex as he wiped off the counter. My mouth watered. “Um, can I call you back later, though? I’m at Cane’s having dinner.”
“Cane?” Heather asked curiously. “Who’s Cane?”
“Well, he’s …” I shuffled my eyes to him. He had turned around and was leaning back against the counter watching me. I turned away, blushing. “I don’t know who he is exactly,” I said warily. This was not a question I wanted to answer in front of him.
“Hmm. Sounds like there’s a story there.”
“Kinda. Kari’s here, too, so we’re both hanging out.”
“I see. I’m assuming he’s right there, and you don’t want to talk about it, so I’ll call you later, and you can give me the dirty. I was actually calling for a legit reason. Do I have your most updated résumé?”