But maybe every family is that way.
I decide to continue on despite how hard it is to say everything. “In her diary, her last few entries were so … sad. They were so full of hopelessness. I can feel her pain come across the pages, in her handwriting, and it hurt me to read it, but those entries also made me mad. That she gave up so easily on her life. That she gave up on us, on my sisters. On me.” I’m crying. The tears are flowing down my cheeks and the sob that comes from me sounds like it was wrenched from deep inside my soul.
“Baby. Sshh. Come here.” Caden pulls me even closer and I sob all over his shoulder, his neck. My tears won’t stop, my entire body is shaking, and I cling to him as if he can save me from all the horrible truths in the world. He’s stroking my hair and kissing my forehead, whispering sweet words to console me, and I’ve never felt more cherished.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur against his neck long minutes later. “I haven’t told anyone about the diaries yet, not even my sisters. I’ve never even given myself a chance to cry over it, you know?”
“I know. I do.” He squeezes me. “You okay?” Slipping his hand beneath my chin, he tilts my face up so our eyes meet. With his other hand he swipes away the tears from my cheeks. “You need a drink of water or something?”
“I’m fine,” I whisper, my gaze roving over his face, taking in his handsome features. A face that has become dear to me, a man that has begun to mean something to me these last couple of weeks. “I just … thank you.”
He frowns, his beautiful mouth curving downward. “For what?”
I touch his lips, streaking my fingertip across his full lower lip. I love his mouth. I love everything about him. Everything that I know, that is. I wish I knew more. I wish he would be honest with me. Open. Slowly but surely I can make this happen. I know it. “For being there for me. For letting me talk and for listening.”
“I should say the same to you.” He parts his lips, drawing my finger into his mouth, and I feel his teeth graze the tip of my finger.
“Then why don’t you?” I’m teasing him, and it feels good to be light and silly after only moments ago revealing such heavy information.
He smiles and I pull my finger from his mouth. “Thank you, Rose.” His smile fades, his expression going dead serious. “I mean it. It’s been a long time since I’ve talked about my dad with anyone. Even my mom.”
“I’m sure especially your mom. I know my father gets uncomfortable when any of us ask questions about our mother.”
He strokes underneath my chin with his thumb, his gaze thoughtful. “Have I told you lately that I think you’re beautiful?”
“Stop.” I bat at his hand but he doesn’t let go of my chin. He tells me I’m beautiful more than any other man has ever done but when he talks to me like this, I get embarrassed. “Seriously. You’re going to give me a complex.”
“A complex over your beauty? That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing.” He releases his hold on my chin so he can touch my cheek and run his finger down my nose, along my brows. “You’re unnaturally pretty, I swear. Like a little angel face.”
I roll my eyes and grimace. My cheeks are hot and I don’t know if I can take much more of this. “That’s what Violet says and it’s so embarrassing. She claims I look like one of Botticelli’s angels.” I don’t really believe it. Lily’s the beautiful, outrageous one. Violet’s the quiet, smart one, but truly? She’s just as beautiful as Lily.
“I had thoughts of wanting to paint you a few nights ago,” he admits sheepishly, flashing a lopsided smile.
My brows go up as if I have no control over them. “I didn’t know you were a painter.”
“I’m not.” He chuckles. “But you were lying on the bed, naked and spent, your skin all rosy and your hair everywhere. You had this satisfied look on your face, and I totally understood at that moment why artists always want to paint nudes of beautiful women.”
“Please.” I shake my head but he leans in and drops a kiss on my mouth, his lips lingering. “You don’t mean it.”
“I totally mean it,” he whispers, his lips moving against mine. “You make me … feel things I’ve never experienced before, Ro. You’ve changed me.”
I’m speechless. Not that I could say anything anyway. Not with the way Caden’s kissing me, his tongue sneaking into my mouth, sliding against mine. His hands start roaming my body and soon we’re lost in each other.
Not that I’m protesting.
Chapter Nineteen
Caden
“When you coming back, son? I need a firm answer. They’re ready to interview you. Whenever you’re ready, so are they. You’re spending way too much time over there and if you don’t hurry home, your opportunity is going to move on without you.”
I’m out in front of the hotel standing on the sidewalk, having escaped from the room and Rose so I could call Cash. He’s been blowing up my phone the last two days in a variety of ways including missed calls, texts, and voicemails. I had no idea the old man was so savvy with a smart phone. He even tried to Face-Time me.
I’ve avoided him, which is stupid. I’d rather spend time with Rose than face my reality. I need to man the fuck up and do what’s right.
Blowing out a harsh breath, I run a hand through my hair. I need to get this shit cut. It’s driving me crazy, always falling in my eyes. “I’m not exactly sure.”
Cash wheezes. Or maybe he’s sighing. I can’t tell. “I’m telling ya, you need to get your ass back here. The position needs to be filled and he’s going to find someone else for the job, which would be a damn shame because you’re perfect for it and you know it. You’ve got an eye like no one I’ve ever met. They would kill for your expertise.”
“Put me down for Monday, okay? Let them know I’ll be there first thing in the morning or whatever works best for them.” If I can’t go back to New York with Mitchell, then I’ll have to find my own way home.
This means I have approximately forty-eight hours left with Rose.
Not enough time. I don’t want to leave her. Worse, I don’t know how I’m going to tell her I’m leaving her.
“Sounds good. Just know that this position can’t wait for you.” He keeps telling me this and I know he’s right. “It’s the opportunity of a lifetime. A lifetime, kid. It’ll help you go legit. Keep you out of the shit.”
“You’ve done all right for yourself,” I point out.
“I don’t know anything else. I got in so deep, there’s no way I could get out. Next thing I knew I was forty. Then fifty, then sixty … hell, I can’t even make myself retire. I’m addicted to this game. It’s ridiculous.” Cash pauses. “But you, you can pull yourself out of this. You’re young. You’re smart. You can do something with your life and actually become something.”
That’s why I’m going to the interview. Cash talks like the job is mine already, but we don’t know that for sure. I still need to interview and prove myself. It’s still hard for me to believe I’ve been handed this opportunity. An established and respected jeweler with a store in Brooklyn needs someone with a good eye who can evaluate and price jewelry. Considering I’ve been stealing copious amounts of jewelry for years and can price the shit out of it—both on the black market and legitimately—this is right up my alley.
And Cash knows it. The second he heard about the position—he’s friends with the owner, talk about ironic—he knew I was the perfect candidate. I’m flattered he even thought of me.
“I’m going to call Mitchell right now and see when he’s going back home,” I reassure Cash. “I’ll call or text you when I find out more details.”
“If you gotta fly commercial, book a flight. I’ll front you the money.”
His offer makes me feel like shit. “I can pay for it. I have money.” I don’t want to be his charity case.
“The offer stands. If you need it, tell me. I want to help. You can always pay me back,” he says firmly. “Keep me posted when you know more.” He ends the call and I immediately look up
Mitchell’s number and call him.
“Tell me you’re finally coming over.” This is how Mitchell greets me. He’s already slurring his words. It is way too early for him to be drunk. “We’re having a party tonight. In your honor.”
“Give me a break. And I don’t want to go to your shitty party.”
“You’re an asshole. A stupid asshole. This shit will be amazing tonight. There will be alcohol. There will be scantily clad women with sexy British accents and cock-sucking lips. Oh, and there will be all the drugs you could ever ask for. All of it. Maybe drugs you never even knew existed.” Mitchell laughs. “God save the Queen, man. I fucking love England.”
Sounds like an absolute nightmare. I decide not to even acknowledge what he just said. “So when are you returning to the States?”
Mitchell makes an irritated sound. “Is that all you ever want? To know when we’re leaving? Are you that anxious to get out of here?”
“I have an appointment I need to go to on Monday.”
“And that’s my problem how?” Mitchell laughs and I hear a female voice in the background, asking him if he wants another round. Great. He’s entertaining.
“I’ll find my own flight back home,” I tell him irritably. I don’t need this shit. “Talk to you later, Mitch.” He hates it when I call him that. Thinks the nickname sounds too blue collar. Such an elitist prick.
“Wait, wait, wait, Kingsley. I’ll get you back home.” He pauses and I hear ice clink in a glass, so I can only assume he’s having a drink. He smacks his lips together before he says, “I’m flying out Sunday night.”
“Sunday night?” I turn and watch the front doors of the hotel, hating the hinky feeling I have that Rose is somehow lingering nearby. But she’s not. When I left her in the room she was on the phone with her sister and planning on going in to Fleur this afternoon. “Is that confirmed?”
“Yeah, yeah. Confirmed. Around seven, though I’m not exactly sure about the departure time. I don’t want to leave too early or too late.”
“Makes sense.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thanks a lot for helping me.”
“Not a problem. But hey.”
“What?”
“I have one condition, my friend.”
My sense of relief flies right out the window. I hate conditions. “What is it?” I ask warily.
“You need to come to my party tonight. You must. I’m insulted you haven’t stopped by and visited me at Mum and Dad’s.” Mitchell laughs at his fake British accent and I wish like hell I could tell him to fuck off and hang up on him.
But I can’t. We’ve been friends for a long time, and yeah, he drives me crazy with his partying ways, but I can’t treat him like shit. “Can’t make it. I have plans,” I answer.
“Cancel them.”
“No can do, bro.”
“Don’t ‘bro’ me. Since when do you decline attending a drug- and sex-filled party? You found God or something?” Mitchell asks incredulously.
He is the worst ever, I swear. But this is how our relationship has always been. We give each other constant shit. Plus, he knows most of my secrets. If he really cared, he could call the police and have me apprehended in a second.
But he never has. He’s always turned a blind eye to what I do. He’s always been there for me despite the constant amount of crap he dishes out to me.
“It’s nothing like that.” Should I tell him the truth? He won’t stop badgering me until I do. Yet my confession might make it worse. “I’m … seeing a woman.”
“Oooh.” Mitchell sounds like his ten-year-old self. When we used to give each other shit over girls and other dumb crap. “Well, bring her with you. I can’t wait to meet the fancy piece of ass you’re fucking around with.”
I’m pissed. Did he really just call Rose a fancy piece of ass? “Don’t talk about her like that,” I snap.
“What the hell, man. Are you seriously into this chick?” Mitchell is full-on laughing now. “Who’d have thought it? Mister Renegade Thief always on the go, falling for a girl? Have you lost your balls or what?”
“You’re an asshole,” I mutter. “And I’m not coming to your shitty party.”
“Then I guess you’re not coming home with me on my plane, either,” he says cheerfully, clearly enjoying this conversation.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Don’t test me. Come on, Caden. You know I get upset when you don’t show up to my parties. You bring the good time.”
I used to bring the good time. I drank plenty of booze and did all the drugs and the women, but I pulled myself off the party scene a few years ago. The more alcohol and drugs I consumed, the more reckless I became, and I didn’t need the trouble.
Major mistakes could mean jail time. Something I definitely wanted to avoid. That meant the partying had to stop.
“That’s not my scene anymore and you know it,” I tell him. “Don’t make me go.”
“Just stop by. For a few minutes. I won’t take up too much of your time.” Mitchell is practically pleading. Weird.
“Fine.” I blow out an irritated breath. “I’ll stop by for thirty minutes. That’s it. No more.”
“Perfect. You won’t regret it. I swear.”
“What time you want me there?” I ask, suddenly feeling tired. Like old-man-with-the-world-on-his-shoulders tired. I am so through with this sort of shit.
“Anytime. The party has already started.”
“It’s not even eleven o’clock in the morning.”
“I know. Isn’t it fucking great? I love this town. You can party whenever you want and no one judges you for it.” Mitchell laughs. “I’ll text you my address.”
“Great.” I end the call and shove my phone into the front pocket of my jeans. This is all sorts of fucked. How am I going to explain to Rose where I’m going? I sure as hell can’t bring her with me. I don’t want her anywhere near Mitchell and his sleazy friends.
You’re one of Mitchell’s sleazy friends.
That thought doesn’t settle well.
I go back up to the hotel suite to find Rose in the shower, the bathroom door open though the space is full of steam and billowing out into the rest of the suite. I should put the necklace back in the safe, while I have a chance. Or I should go in there and join her. Surprise her. But if I do, that’ll lead to soaping up her body, which will turn into touching her body. Then kissing. Then fucking.
Yeah. I can’t risk it. She probably has to go in to work and I need to go to Mitchell’s.
Can’t wait.
Dread consuming me, I grab my duffel bag, figuring I may as well start packing now so I don’t wait and do it at the last minute like I usually do. I unzip it and start folding everything I’d shoved in there over the last few days. Hell, weeks. We’ve had to use the hotel laundry service and I paid for my clothes to be cleaned. I even went to the front desk a few days ago and tried to pay for the stay up until then, irritated when the desk clerk told me it was already taken care of. I want to take responsibility for something beyond a few dinners out.
“Shit.” I see the velvet box nestled deep and I glance at the open bathroom door. The shower just shut off and I shove everything back into the bag, zipping it closed. Frustration rolls through me that I didn’t just put the necklace back into the safe and I have no one to blame but myself.
I walk around the suite, picking up my clothes where I left them, which is all over the place. Rose and I have acted like horny teenagers, locking ourselves away in this suite, ordering room service or takeout, lazing around. Having sex, talking, more sex, sleep, eat, sex, sleep, talk.
Sex, sex, sex.
I wouldn’t trade these days for the world, but I need to get back to reality. Rose has slowly but surely been acting like an actual grown-up already. Now it’s my turn.
But that means I have to leave.
“Oh!” I turn at Rose’s startled gasp to find her standing in the bathroom doorway, holding a thick white towel in front of her. “I didn’t realize
you came back.”
“Sorry.” The towel isn’t actually wrapped around her, offering me a glimpse of her waist and hips and upper thighs. All those wondrous curves I’ve run my hands over again and again. I tear my gaze away from her and turn back to my duffel, zipping it back open so I can shove everything I grabbed back inside. “You going in to Fleur this afternoon?”
“I am.” She approaches me and I step away from the bag, not wanting her near it. What if she saw the velvet box? I can smell her as she draws near, clean and fresh, and my hands literally ache to touch her. But I don’t. I won’t. Touching her makes me lose brain cells, I swear to God. Until all I can do is focus on her. “What are you doing?”
“Ah …” How can I broach this subject lightly? “Cleaning up around here, putting away my stuff. I’m sure the maids hate us.”
“I’m sure,” she agrees wryly, her arms sneaking around me from behind. She presses her body to mine, her hands slipping beneath my shirt to rest lightly against my stomach. I can feel every naked, damp inch of her. She must have ditched the towel. I close my eyes, inhaling deep. She’s trying to kill me, I swear. “I have a little time before I have to get ready,” she murmurs.
Her voice, her words, are pure temptation. Temptation I must avoid. “Yeah? Well, I uh, gotta go in a little bit.”
She releases her hold and steps away from me. The loss of her touch hits me like a punch to the gut. “Where are you going?” Her voice is wary. Unsure. I never leave. She’s the one who has a life. I’m the one who’s been so completely focused on her and nothing else.
Behaving like this can’t be good for me. She has the upper hand and I never give anyone that power. Rose makes me vulnerable.
And I don’t like it.
I turn to face her again, my expression impassive. Trying my best to throw up the wall I used to be so damn good at erecting around myself so no one can penetrate it. “Going to my friend Mitchell’s. I’ve mentioned him before, the guy with the jet? He wanted me to come over for a bit, so I thought I’d see him while you’re at work.”
Rose tilts her head, contemplating me. “When is he supposed to leave for New York?”