CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CAYLEE
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I’m too happy, given the situation. My cheeks are glowing—even I can see that—and I’m almost dancing as I walk down the hall to take my lunch break.
“Louisa still hasn’t been found,” Amy reminds me, bringing me back to earth. Turns out it’s possible to be stupidly happy and sad at the same time, apparently.
“It’s horrible.” I sigh.
“She was just here. Then gone. How?” Amy bites into her sandwich, looking miserable.
Brad walks over with his salad and eats standing. He does that most days.
“It’s what young kids do. She might’ve been waiting for her braces to come off so she could run away with the boyfriend.” He munches down on the crunchy lettuce.
That doesn’t feel like something Louisa would do. She seemed to genuinely like her mom. When you know someone, even in our situation, over eighteen months, you get a sense of these things.
Louisa would race out to tell her mom things after the appointment. I’d watch them quietly chat in the waiting room. She’d show her things on her phone, and they’d giggle.
That wasn’t a kid who was in a hurry to run away.
“She comes from a good home.” I say, disagreeing with him.
Brad shrugs. “You don’t know what goes on behind closed doors.”
He might be right. I never saw her with her dad, and he did come across as that firm corporate type when he showed up the other day. Then again, his daughter was missing.
“I’m sure the cops are doing all they can.” I feel my happiness subside further and wish I could go back to my post-multiple-orgasm bliss.
“So many kids go missing; it’s terrible.” Amy sighs. “And that other girl who went missing six months ago...wasn’t she a patient of ours too?”
What?
My eyes widen.
“Who?” Brad barks, lowering his salad, appearing angry rather than concerned.
Then it’s gone in a flash.
“Mary Beth. Remember, she was the little ballerina—"
“Yes! Mary Beth.” Brad stabs the air with his fork, his expression almost detached. “She was the head ballerina in their school production of Swan Lake. You remember her, Caylee.”
Oh god, not Mary Beth!
I glance at Brad, shocked, and wonder if he knew.
“My god. Are you sure it’s her?”
Amy nods, finishes her sandwich and wipes her hands on a napkin.
“Yes. I told Brad when it happened.”
He takes another mouthful, shakes his head, kind of lifts his shoulders and walks to the sink to rinse his container. “Wow. I don’t remember. Getting old, girls. This is what happens when you get over thirty-five. Your memory starts to pack up.”
Amy and I share a look, both surprised by his blasé response.
“Do you think we should tell the police? Maybe there’s a connection or something.” I frown. “We should definitely tell them.”
It surprises me that they haven’t been around to ask questions. Surely that’s a connection they’d want to inquire about. Then again, maybe they all go to the same school. The same doctors.
The same dance classes.
I’ve probably watched way too many crime documentaries.
Brad turns, and the dark look I catch vanishes just as quickly, replaced by a smirk.
Weird.
“Settle down, Sherlock Holmes. We see a lot of patients. I’m sure the police have gathered an abundance of information on each of the girls. Unless you have seen or heard of something, don’t waste their precious, underpaid time.”
He's right.
“Plus, they were here last week, so they have my details if they want to ask us anything,” Brad adds, and I get to my feet, nodding. We walk out together. “So, who won that dance competition?”
I feel like an idiot, and he’s given me an out.
“It’s not until Sunday. Keep up.” I grin, and he chuckles.
I’m eager for the day to end. Jake whispered in my ear that he’d be back over tonight...with condoms. It’s only been a few hours, and already I crave more of his masterful touch.
The way his large hands grip my thighs, his mouth on my neck.
How his kisses weaken my knees.
That said, I need to make sure we don’t fall back into the routine of just having sex and not getting to know one another. Clearly, I need to meet his family and clear that up.
I believe Jake.
But understanding the situation, feeling included, and being able to put it all to bed would feel much better.
It also might stop the phone calls. I might be able to help, who knows.
Or if he’s told a little white lie and his mother is one of those dependent moms—god forbid—seeing us together may break whatever cycle they have going on.
It’s not like we’ve just started dating. We were together for three months the first time around.
I make a note to bring it up.
Thanksgiving is a few weeks away, so that is the perfect time to meet one another’s families.
I make another note to speak to Cole and make sure he behaves. I like Jake...I more than like him.
If he creates any trouble, I’ll get Scarlett onto him. She’s a great sister-in-law to-be and seems to be the only one who can really get through to him some days. Especially since Zara was born.
I’m glad I went to dinner with Jake last night for three very good orgasmic reasons. I can see a future building, and I’m excited.
Nothing is guaranteed, of course, but after the past twenty-four hours, I feel like my life is back on track.
The next natural stage is for us to meet one another’s friends and families. While we have common friends, now he’s working at BHS, and he knows my brother. It makes sense that I should meet his family.
Or...an idea pops into my head.
I should host a party.
Smiling, I gather the dental tools and start sterilizing them. I’m sure I must look like a fool as I polish a mouth mirror, grinning.
Jake and I are a couple.
A real couple.
It feels exciting.
I’ve decided. I’m absolutely hosting this party, and I might even make it a theme!
––––––––
“CAN I GO as a Navy SEAL?” Josh asks in the background when I call Cassy after work and mention the costume party idea.
Scarlett’s line was busy, so Cassy was next on the list. I’m so excited I had to tell someone.
I roll my eyes.
“By Navy SEAL do you mean shirtless with all that war paint and sexy dog tags?” Cassy asks.
I should probably hang up. This feels like foreplay.
Their foreplay.
Then something occurs to me. “Ah, not a good idea. If Josh comes shirtless, Cole will. Then Ryder definitely will...followed by Aidan. My neighbors will think something else is going on and call the cops.”
Cassy giggles.
“I’ll wear my scuba gear,” Josh calls out, his voice sounds distant, as if leaving the room.
“Boring.” Cassy sighs. “But you’re right about them tearing all their shirts off. So competitive. Skip the costume party and just make it an early holiday BBQ. We can all help with the food.”
“That would be great. I’m, um, going to invite Jake,” I add.
“The new guy?”
Oh right, she doesn’t know the entire history of our relationship.
“Yes. Well, no, Jake and I dated a few months ago. We broke up. Now Cole is being all alpha big brother about it so I’m hoping this party will—”
“This is a bad idea,” Cassy interrupts, and I blink a few times, surprised.
“Why?”
“Apparently, they had a fight today.”
My brows fly up my forehead as I try to make sense of what she just said.
Does she mean Cole and Jake?
“A fight?”
A knock at the door has my head turning, but I know who it is. I walk over and pull it open as Cassy updates me on the details. I don’t doubt her for a second as I take in the shiner on Jake’s face.
“My advice is they work this out before you put the two of them in the same place as alcohol,” Cassy wisely recommends. “Apparently, they both have a few choice bruises.”
You don’t say.
I step aside and let Jake in.
“I’m looking at the evidence right now. Call you tomorrow. Thanks Cass.” I hang up and toss my phone onto the bookshelf by the door. “What the hell happened?”
“Sounds like you already know.” Jake closes the gap and takes my hips.
I start to melt immediately. How the man can look so exceptionally hot in a pair of jeans, I don’t know. But he does.
I run my hands over his white T-shirt and stifle a moan as I feel his solid pecs under my palms.
The man is impossibly sexy.
“Who hit who first?” I ask, trying to stay on topic and not let him drag me up to my bedroom.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Jake, this isn’t kindergarten. Was it Cole?”
“Are you going to call him?”
“Yes.”
“Then no.”
“So, you hit my brother first?” I frown.
Jake tips his head back and groans. “Caylee, let it go.”
I push his hard chest, waiting for his eyes to return to mine. “Jake, I need you to be friends. I want you to get along. If we—.”
His brows lift.
If we are going to spend our lives together...I nearly said it, and by the well-trained blank expression on his face as he studies mine, I know I’m racing much further ahead than he is.
Shit.
As shame starts to envelop me, I decide to face it front on. If we are on different paths, then perhaps we shouldn’t be doing this at all.
Bravely I lock our gazes.
“If we’re going to be in a relationship, then we need our families to be okay with us being together. Both of them.”
Jake suddenly grabs my hand, his grasp tight. I gasp, and he releases the tension and kisses my knuckles.
In hindsight?
I don’t know, but I can tell by his reaction that this is an uncomfortable topic.
“Slow down, baby. Your brother is sleep deprived, has just become a father and is recovering from Scarlett being kidnapped. I was part of that story, and now he’s found out I’m his sister’s ex.”
“Not anymore.”
“No, but give him time to catch up. Okay?”
I shrug, nod, and realize I’m just being impatient. Because I am. I want it all. I want to be that couple in love. I want my turn.
To get engaged.
To run my hand over my swollen belly.
To stand with my man next to me, his hand on my hip, proud to love me.
Jake is right about Cole. Zara hasn’t been sleeping well, and he’s been getting up so that Scarlett can recover. As tough as she makes out that she is, she did go through a lot of trauma.
“Okay,” I say softly and get a kiss for my effort.
Jake leads me over to the kitchen bench and drops his keys and phone.
His hands slide up my thighs and over my behind. I moan and press into him.
No sex.
What a dumb rule, whose idea was that?
“I missed you,” Jake rasps, and his fingers brush the furthest point of my pussy through my panties.
“I can feel that.”
His hard cock is solid against my lower body.
“I got condoms.” He growls against my mouth and then licks my lips.
“Yeah?”
God, I really need him to touch me there again. My panties are now wet, and if I lift my leg...
His hands still me, gripping my body.
“Dirty girl.” His smile tells me he’s not unhappy about that.
“Touch me.” I moan.
“No.”
My forehead lands on his chest, and I hear him chuckle.
When I lift my head, he’s grinning.
“I’ve ordered some groceries to make you dinner. Didn’t feel like sitting in a restaurant with this.” He points to his bruise. “So go put your feet up, and I’ll pour you a glass of wine.”
Dumb stupid no sex rule.
But I love that he’s respecting me and sticking to my request. Love? Well, I like that he is. I don’t love it.
“Fine.”
“And if you decide to take your panties off and play with your pussy while I’m cooking, I’m okay with that, too.”
There he is.
I smile naughtily, tiptoe up and kiss his lips, then head to the sofa where I do put my feet up and let the gorgeous former US Marshal tend to me.
With my panties on.
Because we both know he’s not that strong.