Chapter Thirty-Two
Mikayla
I don’t know why I freaked out when I found out about Caine, but I did. I thought he was a normal guy, someone simple. But if he’s wealthy… a multimillionaire? I mean, I don’t know where I fit into his life. I don’t have anything to offer.
I lie in bed, these nagging thoughts racing through my mind. Caine isn’t home yet. I can’t seem to rid myself of these feelings of inadequacy. But eventually my fatigue wins out.
I don’t know how long I sleep for, but it’s definitely not enough as I wake to my alarm reminding me that I need to wake up to pick up Jack from the airport.
Caine pulls me against him, his face nuzzling my neck, peppering kisses. My nipples pebble at his touch. But I don’t cuddle into him.
I’m the first person to acknowledge that my feelings are a little ridiculous, yet I still feel them. I’m uncomfortable. And a little hurt.
Did he not trust me? Was he testing me? I know he has feelings for me, and I’m not questioning that, but it also seems completely logical that he wouldn’t want me to know about his financial situation because of my current financial situation.
“I have to get Jack,” I whisper, patting his hand that rests on my belly.
“We have time,” Caine says, his hand gliding into my panties.
I can feel his erection, hard and warm, against my ass.
And I do want him, I do, but I can’t get this stupid voice out of my head telling me I’m not good enough.
It’s annoyingly telling me that I’m foolish and too inexperienced.
“We don’t know what traffic will be like.
” I force myself to pull away and out of bed.
Mikayla?” Caine asks, leaning on his forearms as I walk to the door.
I shut my eyes at his use of my full name. I feel like a child about to be scolded.
“I’m just gonna hop in the shower. You don’t have to come. I’m sure you’d like to sleep after your long night,” I choke out.
Why am I doing this? I know it’s stupid, yet I can’t seem to stop myself.
I don’t bother getting dressed before going to the bathroom. I’m positive Sawyer is still sleeping after the night he had.
I take care of business, brush my teeth and then hop in the shower.
I’ll do my hair after we get back. If I timed this right, I’ll have at least an hour to get ready before we head over to the main house for dinner.
Whitney assured me that it will only be the Montgomery family and one other family because they are alone for the holiday.
I close my eyes as the heat from the shower washes away the last remnants of sleep. The scent of my fragrant jasmine body wash fills the air, and I actually feel a moment of peace as I lather it over my body. But it’s quickly robbed from me when I hear the bathroom door open and then click shut.
I turn and watch as Caine puts toothpaste on his toothbrush, removes his boxers, then opens the door to the shower.
“We need to talk,” Caine says after spitting into the drain.
I take a step back and let him get under the blast. The shower is huge, but Caine doesn’t let me get away.
“Talk to me,” he demands. He grabs his own body wash, and my stomach does flips. The way he smells is like an aphrodisiac!
“I’ll be fine,” I say, brushing him off.
I’m being silly. I’m sure I’ll get over it—eventually. Or he’ll just dump me because it’s true that he doesn’t trust me.
Should I have known? I Googled the ranch. It’s not like their annual income is documented anywhere.
I open the shower door and move to get out when Caine pulls me against his wet body. I shut my eyes at the contact. It feels so good. And he smells delicious.
“You’re upset.”
“Honestly, I just need time to process everything. Yesterday was a lot, and I don’t even know where we are gonna put Jack,” I say. “But I’ll be fine.”
Because I will be. Regardless of whether I’m alone or with Caine, I’ll get by. I’ll figure it out. I have my brother. For once, I feel really good about that.
Trust is a big deal. And I don’t know what to do about this sinking feeling in my gut. I don’t know if it’s about Caine, or just my dark side of the moon mentality coming through.
Caine places a kiss on my forehead. I pull away and step out of the shower, immediately feeling the cold. And a thought rocks me as I wrap the towel around myself. This is my first Thanksgiving without my father.
I walk to the bedroom feeling stunned. My breath catches at the realization. My body shuts down, and the tears silently fall. Is that what’s causing this dreadful feeling? Could it be that simple?
“Mick!” Caine says forcefully as he walks into the bedroom. He practically runs to me, wrapping me in his arms and lifting me off my feet. This time, I coil myself around him like a vine.
“I miss my dad,” I choke out, and the tears rock me, taking my air as a heaviness fills my heart. But Caine’s arms feel so firm and comforting.
“That makes sense,” he says. “This is your first holiday without him.” His voice is soft, kind.
I let myself feel it. The sorrow and pain. I worry my father would be so disappointed in me, so sad at the state of things. That I didn’t try hard enough with my mother. I know it’s what he wanted more than anything. And I couldn’t even do that!
“What can I do?” Caine asks. And I can hear the pain in his words. His voice is so soft, and this man is so patient with me.
“Just this,” I say and squeeze him a little tighter.
“Always,” he whispers, and I feel him walk over to the bed and sit down. His arms pull me closer, his hand cradling my head.
After a few moments, I take in a deep breath and pull back. Caine wipes my cheeks with the edge of my towel and gives me a sad smile.
“Sorry about that.” I shrug sheepishly. I hadn’t seen that coming!
“Never apologize for missing your father or for being emotional with me. Never with me,” he says firmly, cupping my head between his giant hands. “Don’t keep that stuff locked away.”
I place a soft kiss on his lips and unwind myself from his body. I do need to dress.
Rather than drive all the way to Dallas, Jack took a connecting flight to Lawton, saving us from the worst of the traffic. That doesn’t mean we didn’t run into any. What usually takes a little less than an hour ends up taking about an hour and a half with holiday traffic.
I feel awkward as we make our way to the airport. Caine clearly senses my unease because he keeps gazing over at me.
To distract myself, I play with the music selection, but when we hit the sixty minutes point of the drive, Caine presses the pause button on the screen. He then squeezes my thigh a little harder than usual.
“You need to talk to me.” His voice is deep and sonorous. “Now, Mick,” he adds, squeezing my thigh again.
“Did you keep it from me because you don’t trust me?” Fine! If he wants to do this, let’s do it!