The Dirty South

  “You’ll be just fine, sweet girl. I’m not worried about you at all. It just takes some time, but you’ll find your way again. And from what I hear, you’re going to be quite the famous artist soon.”

  I chuckle and roll my eyes. “Ha! Hardly. Getting space in a gallery doesn’t make— Wait, how’d you know about that?”

  Willie gets a playful gleam on his face. “Colton was braggin’. You should’ve heard him.”

  “Really?”

  “He respects you. A lot. He’s been different since you’ve been around here. You’re good for him.”

  I shake my head and frown. “I don’t get that impression, certainly not from him.”

  Willie slowly nods. “Give him time. Don’t give up on him. He’s… trying to find his own path as well.”

  I let out another sigh. “I don’t know what to make of him, I really don’t. It’s all just so…”

  “Muddy?” Willie says, and laughs.

  “Exactly!”

  He quickly sobers. “Just because you can’t see someone’s struggles don’t mean they’re not suffering.”

  I lower my head and look at the wooden floorboards, thinking of how many times I’d hidden my insecurities and fears behind a mask of happiness.

  “Guess what, Willie…” I say quietly. “Today’s my birthday.”

  His face lights up. “Why, Miss Cady… How come you didn’t say nothin’ sooner? You wait right here!” He stands up and hobbles into the house. A few moments later he returns carrying two plates.

  “Here, let me help you with that.” I quickly jump up and take them from him while he sits back down. “Goodness, what’s all this?”

  “Miss Maple made me some of her peanut butter and chocolate dream cake the other day. Happy birthday, Miss Cady.”

  “Thank you, Willie!” I take a bite and smile. “Yum! No wonder she always wins the bake-off!”

  We sit and eat our cake, and I watch the sunset light the sky with a pinkish amber glow as it filters through the trees. Already I’m envisioning my next piece, and it will have this exact sky I see here tonight. Because I can’t remember it ever looking so beautiful before.

  When we finish, I rinse off the plates in the sink before saying goodnight.

  “Willie… how’d you get to be so damn awesome?”

  He lets out a gravely chuckle. “Now, Miss Cady, I ask myself that same question every day.”

  I give him a warm hug and begin to make my way back to my cottage. I catch sight of Colton coming around the main house and toward the fountain, and I hesitate. But only briefly. He’s probably just going to his place, or maybe the garage.

  But he doesn’t turn. He’s definitely coming my direction. His stride is strong and determined, and he seems… upset?

  I eye him warily and wait for him to get here.

  “You have a delivery,” he says coldly.

  I frown. “What kind of delivery?”

  He gives me a hard look and turns away. “Come see for yourself.”

  I hurry after him, but he’s walking at a quicker than normal pace, making it hard to keep up with his long legs. He rounds the corner of the Manor and onto the front driveway, then stops.

  I gasp.

  “What the hell is that?” I ask, pointing at the shiny new black Mercedes convertible with a big red bow wrapped around it.

  He turns to me, his expression hard. “It’s for you. There’s a card.” He motions to the oversized piece of folded over cardboard attached to the side of the ribbon. The words Happy Birthday, my dearest Cady. Much love, Brandon are plainly visible.

  I just stare without blinking. “What the actual hell?”

  “Here ya go, birthday girl,” Colton mutters, tossing me some keys. I look at them blankly, as he quickly turns and walks away.

  “Wait… wait up!” I call.

  He doesn’t slow down, so I run up to him and block his path. “I don’t want it! Send it back.” I thrust the keys at him.

  He just steps around me and keeps walking. “You send it back.”

  “Arrugghh! Dammit!” I turn and hurl the keys in front of him, as hard and as far as I possibly can.

  Colton stops and stares at me.

  Glaring, I march toward him again, my anger threatening to explode. “I don’t want that stupid car. I never asked for that stupid car, and I don’t know why it’s here, but I want it gone!”

  “Who’s Brandon?” he finally asks.

  I let out a huff and roll my eyes. “My ex. The one I told you about.”

  He turns and starts walking away again.

  “Wait—” I hurry up beside him, as he continues on the path back to his place. “I don’t know why he sent that. There’s nothing between us at all.” Why am I explaining myself? Colton hasn’t even tried to talk to me in days.

  But he barely glances my way. “People don’t just give brand new cars to exes they don’t care about.”

  Even if I don’t owe him an explanation, I don’t want him thinking the wrong thing. I jump in front of him again and put my hand on his chest, using all my weight to force him to stop walking. He does, but he keeps his eyes on the ground.

  “He’s just trying to bribe me,” I say, almost out of breath. “It’s part of that awful job offer I was telling you about last week. The reason my mom was here.”

  His jaw clenches and he narrows his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t walk away.

  “My mom probably put him up to it,” I continue. “Or the other way around, I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter. I want nothing to do with any of it. I want that whole part of my life gone for good. Please… if you won’t send it back, then just tell me how I can because I really don’t want it here!”

  To my supreme humiliation, I feel myself getting choked up, and my eyes flood with angry tears. Shit!

  I quickly angle my head away so Colton can’t see my face. Then I turn and start running back to my place. I go inside and close the door, trying desperately not to cry. What am I even so upset about? Fuck Brandon and his stupid car! He can try and buy me off all he wants, but he’s just wasting his time and his money.

  I go into the bathroom and splash some cool water on my face. Then I dry off and take several deep breaths, gathering my composure. As I walk back out to the other room, there’s a light tapping on the door. I take another deep breath, and open the door to find Colton standing there, looking contrite.

  “Sorry if I was a dick,” he mumbles. “I didn’t mean to make you cry on your birthday.”

  I shake my head and stick out my chin. “You didn’t make me cry.”

  He cocks an eyebrow and grimaces. “Well… I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll take care of the car. It’ll be gone first thing in the morning.”

  “Thank you.”

  He nods, and a pained look flashes across his face. He looks at me carefully, and my heart starts to beat a little faster. Then, to my surprise, instead of turning and leaving he steps in through the door.

  His eyes darken, and he stands directly in front of me. “I—I really didn’t like seeing that out there tonight,” he says, his voice low.

  “Me neither,” I whisper, unnerved by his unexpected nearness.

  I slowly back into the room and Colton follows me, his head lowered, his eyes locked on mine. Then he turns and closes the door behind him.

  “I don’t like the thought of someone bribing you to leave here,” he continues, taking another step closer. I step back some more. “I don’t like it that any day now you’re gonna decide we’re not good enough for you… that your vacation from your real life is over, and you’re outta here.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not –”

  Colton places his finger on my lips, and I’m stunned by what I see in his eyes right now. The room is still dim, but I plainly see their depth and intensity, as they fix on me like piercing lasers.

  “I don’t like seeing your car mangled in pieces, and thinking about how you were in it only moments before
,” he continues. “I don’t like seeing you walking around at a Strawberry Festival with some other guy. I don’t like watching you drink and dance with some guy at a bar, and then walk out the door with him.”

  “But—”

  One arm reaches around my waist and draws me to him. His other hand reaches up to brush some stray hair from my eyes. His voice is getting huskier. “I don’t like when I don’t see you come home, and then wonder if you even did.”

  He pauses for a moment, and looks at me through his lowered lashes. “And I don’t like that you think I’m just some jerk… that you think you’re not important to me. And I really don’t like trying to keep myself away from you… and that I can’t stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try.”

  I suck in my breath.

  “And I hate the thought of you crying on your birthday. For any reason.”

  I gulp and feel like all the oxygen has left the room. Colton Lassiter is looking at me in a way that no one has ever looked at me before. In this moment, he owns me entirely.

  “That’s a lot of things you don’t like,” I whisper. “Anything you do like?”

  I sense a subtle shift. His features soften, his eyes warm, and the corner of his mouth turns up ever so slightly. He gives my waist a gentle squeeze.

  “What I like,” he says slowly, wrapping his other arm around my waist, “is hearing someone say your name to me. I like looking out my living room window and seeing you painting…how beautiful and lost in the moment you are. I like hearing you laugh, and the delicious cookies you bake. I like how you look when you’re soaking wet, and I like how you look when you’re perfectly dry.”

  He tilts his head and gently, briefly, presses his lips on mine.

  “I like knowing you’re nearby, even when I can’t see you,” he continues, softly. “I like seeing you driving around town in my truck. I like that you threw away the keys to a new Mercedes like a piece of used gum.”

  He gives me another soft kiss.

  “I like how I feel when I’m with you, and when you’re in my arms. I like how you kiss me, and how you touch me. I like that you’ve… seen me.”

  He kisses me once more.

  Then he searches my face. “But above all else… I love how you are looking at me right now.”

  His next kiss means business. He commits fully, and I respond in kind. His mouth is soft, and my legs feel weak as his grip on me tightens. Our kisses deepen and intensify with a growing passion, like a fire coming to life.

  Suddenly he lifts me in the air as if I were as light as a feather, and my legs wrap tightly around his waist as he walks us into the bedroom.

  The lights are dim, but I can see his face clearly as he gently lays me on the bed, and braces his body over mine. His kisses are tender as he traces the side of my face.

  The way he’s looking at me… touching me… I feel like a goddess, warm and worshipped. Like my skin is the softest thing he’s ever felt. Like my face is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Like my body is the only home he ever wants to know.

  He kisses me, gently at first, but soon our kisses become more passionate and intense. I feel a desire from deep within that I haven’t felt before, and I see the yearning in his eyes, matched only by my own.

  With gentle fingers he slowly takes off my shirt, revealing my lacy bra. He nuzzles his face into my neck and runs his hands through my hair. My hands sneak under his shirt, and trace the ridges of his abdomen. My fingertips lightly dance up the curve of his spine, over the hard muscles of his back, and down his arms.

  I start to lift his shirt. He hesitates, and then reaches back and quickly pulls it up over his head, revealing his naked torso as his lips come crushing back down on mine again.

  I feel him tense again, as my fingers start moving their way over the unnatural bumps and raised lines that are hidden in the dark, beneath layers of ink.

  I feel him flinch, and I respond with an even deeper kiss… as I gently caress his wounded flesh, willing my fingertips to be the instruments of the healing love I feel inside of me.

  We sit on the bed facing each other, each gently tracing the other’s curves in the darkness. The touch of his fingers awakens my sensitive nerves, and I softly map out his shoulders, his neck, his arms… every inch of him.

  I don’t know why, but I lean closer and lovingly kiss where his skin is disfigured. I want so badly to take away the hurt, and make him whole.

  “I have a lot of scars,” he says, so quietly I barely hear him.

  I continue to gently kiss them, and him, as I make my way up his chest, to his neck, and finally to his lips. “They are beautiful,” I murmur, before enveloping his mouth with mine.

  He lays me back down, and easily and gently removes my bra, sending shivers of pleasure down my entire body. Slowly, he caresses and kisses my breasts, one at a time, as if the only thing he wants in the world is to be right here, loving me.

  His kisses travel over my abdomen sending new ripples of pleasure coursing through my veins. He unbuckles his jeans, the ‘v’ of his torso pronounced and taught.

  Then he leans back to me, nuzzling my neck, kissing the side of my face. Never have I felt as safe as I do lying here helpless in his arms.

  “Tell me to stop,” his husky voice breathes in my ear.

  “Don’t stop,” I whisper.

  My fingers knead the tight bulge of his bicep, and I feel his excitement as his hips press into mine, sending another wave of pleasure tingling throughout my body.

  The slow build of anticipation threatens to erupt as he slowly, tortuously kisses his way back down my belly, gently sliding off my shorts and underwear.

  “Are you sure?” he whispers.

  “Definitely,” I breathe.

  After several slow, agonizing moments, he positions himself on top of me again.

  “God, you are so beautiful,” he groans as he gently inserts himself inside me, filling me up. It’s the most amazing, indescribable sensation of my life, and I want it to never end.

  We make love. Our release is explosive, and leaves us breathless and trembling. Afterwards he lies close to me, our legs entwined, and his hand resting on my belly.

  He lightly kisses my hand and turns to me with a delicious grin.

  “Happy Birthday, Cadence.”

  Chapter 25.

  When I’m at work I can’t stop smiling, and more than once Sheldon has cast a questioning glance my way whenever our paths would cross. But there’s no stopping this high I’m on. I feel like I’m walking on air.

  It’s like a dream– an amazing, sensual, heart-pounding fantasy come to life. Having Colton make love to me is more profound than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. These past several nights with him have sent me over the brink of ecstasy time and again, filling me with more pleasure than I ever knew was possible. I always thought people were exaggerating when it came to the subject of hot, passionate, mind-blowing sex, and what it does to your mind, your body, your soul.

  They weren’t kidding.

  The nights with Colton are fiery and intense. But amazingly, I think I like our morning lovemaking sessions even better. His virile body worships and caresses me back to life, and takes me to new heights, before I shatter in his warm embrace. Seriously, I need to wake up this way every morning. It really gets the day started off the right.

  It’s hard to think of anything except Colton Lassiter… how beautiful he looks lying naked in my bed. How his skin feels as my hands roam unhindered over his rugged, muscular body. Why would I want to think of anything else? It’s heaven. Perfection.

  But I still have a job to do. Despite my preoccupation, I’m surprised with how much work I’ve gotten done around the office. I’ve finished several of Sheldon’s file boxes, and am about to complete another.

  Over the next few weeks, Colton and I slip into an easy sort of casual routine. Sometimes we grab lunch together at The Dirty when he’s not too busy at the shop, and sometimes we take our dinner ho
me with us and eat on the patio with Willie. Other times we just eat at my place, alone. And more than once we’ve actually missed dinner altogether as we get caught up in more ‘fun’ activities.

  On weekends, I set up my easel in the garden and work on my paintings, while Colton tinkers around on some old car in the garage. Occasionally he takes a break to just walk over and give me a kiss, leaving me glowing and more inspired than ever.

  At night we make passionate love, and fall asleep in each other’s arms, only to re-awaken the next morning and start all over again. It’s loose, undefined, with not a lot of questions or rules, and it seems to work for both of us.

  I still have questions. A lot of them. But I don’t ask. I don’t want to push it. He has his secrets, but so do I. The past is the past. I only want to focus on now… and the future.

  Every moment I’m with Colton feels like the best moment of my life. When he looks at me, I feel beautiful. This isn’t just sex. This is something else. Something stronger than both of us. He doesn’t say it, but I can see it in his eyes… feel it in his touch.

  When I’m in Colton’s arms, when he’s kissing me, holding me… I am loved. I am whole. I am how I’m supposed to be.

  There’s no denying that I’m really falling for him, and that this is very different from anything I ever felt with Brandon. It’s like Colton is an essential part of me that I’d never even realized had been missing. And now that I’ve got it, I don’t ever want to lose it.

  And this scares the shit out of me.

  Because already I feel a deeper connection with Colton after only three months than I did with Brandon after eight years. And Brandon almost destroyed me.

  I don’t even want to think about the level of damage Colton could do to my heart if he wanted to.

  *****

  The heat of the verdant summer gives way to the brisk, earthy, rustic colors of fall. Autumn has always been my absolute favorite time of the year, but here in the South it’s even more pronounced. The air is crisper, cooler. The leaves turn magical shades of red, green, and gold that I can’t capture to my canvas fast enough. Everywhere I look I find beauty and inspiration, and for the first time that I can remember, I feel like I’m finding my place in this world. And in the last place I ever thought I would. I sent my second piece to Marko a few weeks ago, another picture of the fountain and the surrounding gardens but from a different angle. It sold for $5500 within 48 hours, with the new owner requesting first viewing on my next creation.