Authors: Jane Beckenham
Hugh had accused him of changing.
He had.
The trouble was, Cade wasn't sure he wanted change or what to do about it. It scared the hell out of him. But there was something else that scared him more—something exciting, and new and very tempting.
The lights of the jukebox blinked a kaleidoscopic chorus of colors. Standing in front of it, Cade searched for one particular song, found it, and punched the button. The soft whirring of electronics clicked into gear and then the song started. Soft and gentle and full of memories. Memories not yet twenty-four hours old though they haunted him as if as old as time.
Do you care—enough
?
She didn't want to think about the setting, though it was the perfect spot for a wedding.
Just not hers. Not here. Or anywhere, for that matter.
The pall in Taylor's stomach knotted, and she had to steady herself. She loved Cade. He just didn't love her, couldn't let go of his “abandonment” long enough to trust in the present.
But Greta Peters and Erueti Nathan were going to love their wedding. It was everything they ever wanted, and then some. That little bit extra had been Taylor's idea.
Her visions, her dreams.
Today she was giving her dreams away.
May had given way to June and the crisp air hung fresh, the sky a cloudless blue. In the garden bordering the drive to the church entrance, buds of early blossoms poked through damp ground, their fragrance scenting the air.
It was beautiful. Everything was set. She surveyed her work. Bouquets of rose buds lined the altar, and the gold and pink and blues of the stained glass windows glittered like jewels and lit the grand old church.
Taylor smiled. She'd done well. Her couple's fantasy wedding would come true.
"I can't believe it.” Hair flying in her wake, Nita scurried down the aisle toward her. “Have you got the French ribbon? The four inch wide with golden angels?"
"Of course, in here.” Taylor scrambled in her emergency box but came up empty. “It was, I know I put in here. I
never
forget things."
"Tell that to the good luck fairy.” Nita's worry lines deepened. “This hasn't been your week for luck, Taylor. Your mind is elsewhere."
Taylor straightened and rubbed her suddenly damp palms down the side of her dress. “Not now Nita. I..."
"You've been preoccupied by a hunk."
"No!” She gripped her bag with knuckle-white intensity, but knew her denial to be futile.
Nita rested a hand on her shoulder. “It's okay, Taylor. You're allowed to love. Rob wouldn't want you to still grieve."
"I'm...” But Taylor couldn't finish the sentence. Did Nita think she pined for her dead fiancée? How far from the truth could she be? She hadn't loved Rob, at least like she should have. And that was why she couldn't trust herself now. Oh, she loved Cade. But he didn't want her, and she couldn't give herself to someone who didn't want her.
One day, when she had thought Rob asleep and sat at his bedside, the tears had come and she wept for the
liking
she had mistaken for
love
.
But Rob had woken and in that fleeting moment when the subconscious fights with the conscious, she had seen the comprehension in his eyes. He knew her lies.
And she had seen his hurt, too.
He never said anything and had died with the hurt inside, leaving Taylor with the guilt.
"I won't crawl, Nita. Cade needs to figure out that he is himself and not a product of a marriage disaster, nor is it a predetermination for his own"
"My, you have been digging deep."
"I had a phone call from his brother, Zane, that's all."
"And Zane filled you in on the psyche of his brother?"
"Something like that,” she agreed, not wanting really to tell Nita the whole story.
Cade blamed his mother for leaving his father, but in fact his father's drinking had started the process long ago. But when she left, she had nowhere to go, no one to turn to, no way to take her children with her. However, Cade blamed his mother for abandoning him and to this day lived his life by what he perceived as her mistake—to him.
And now, she and Cade were the victims of everyone's lies and truths and hurts.
With Nita offering to save the day, and racing back for the Angel ribbon, Taylor paced the church, glancing at her watch every few seconds. Why was it when disaster struck, time seemed to stand still?
"Taylor?"
Taylor's heart did a triple flip, overtaken by a sudden sense of deja vu. “What are you doing here?"
"Not ‘Hello, Cade. Nice to see you'?” he quipped.
Taylor willed herself to remain calm, balling her hands at her sides, when what she really wanted to do was run them through his hair, hold him and kiss him—a lot.
"You look good. New outfit?” His brows wriggled his approval while his gaze lowered, slowly, teasing over each curve. His lips were pursed as if he was deciding something. “Where have the gray suits all gone? Do they have a ‘suit’ heaven?"
Taylor found herself pulling at the hem of the dress she wore. Nita had said it was okay. It felt far too short.
"The suits weren't
that
bad."
He gave her a “Really?” sort of quirky smile. “Yes, they were. They covered you neck to knee, hiding the real Taylor Sullivan."
"So is this better?” she asked, unsure why she actually wanted his approval.
With sparkling glints in his eyes, Cade appraised her.
Nothing had changed. The same old temptation, the quirky good boy versus bad boy that had hooked her in the first place.
"Turn around."
"What?"
"I said turn around and give me a twirl."
A Taylor erupted into a fit of giggles. “You're joking; we're in a church."
He glanced over his shoulder toward the closed wooden doors. “Nope. No one around. Just us two. So how about you show off your new dress."
"I ... simply went shopping, that's all,” she hesitated, though her voice sounded far more composed than she felt.
"Brave move."
"What do you mean?"
"Whoa, don't get all sparky; although, I do remember a mighty fine spark a few nights back, Ms. Sullivan."
Taylor grabbed his elbow and spun him away from the altar. “Your soul will be damned in the flames of hell if you talk of that here."
He shrugged. “Already halfway there. At least, it seems so the last few days,” he said cryptically. “New make-up and you smell good, too,” he said, dropping his head to hers and inhaling her perfume. “Sweet scented lilacs. Just like my granny used to grow."
Taylor's jaw dropped. “I didn't know you knew those sorts of things."
"Ah, but that's it, you, Taylor, don't know enough about me,
yet
."
Taylor busied herself with her clipboard and kept her gaze firmly fixed on the page, which wasn't much use as every number blurred, and the list of names read like a pile of mumbo jumbo. “Well, this is all very nice, but I'm sorry you can't stay; I've got a wedding to get organized."
"I can't leave yet,” Cade said succinctly.
Oh, boy. The revving butterflies in Taylor's belly began their frantic partying once more. “Why not? Are you guest?” She reread the names on her board. “Oh, God, have I left your name off? What a disaster. The whole week, the ribbons."
"Taylor. It's okay. I'm not a guest. You were going to twirl for me."
"Twirl?” she repeated, struck dumb for a second. “Cade, you didn't come here just to get me to twirl in a dress. This is ridiculous."
"You're right.” He winked at her, dimples denting his tanned cheeks and when she looked back up at him, his eyes glittered with humor.
"So ... what?"
But Cade never had the opportunity to answer as a breathless Nita entered from the side vestry waving a giant roll of ribbon. “I've got it. On the desk where you put it before we left,” she said, wagging a finger.
Taylor gave Nita a grateful smile and, taking the reel, turned to Cade. “I don't have time to talk now. I have a wedding to finish and not much time left."
"Can I help?"
"You want to help?"
"Yeah, why not; you know, the knight in shining armor to the rescue thing,” he grinned.
Don't do that,
Taylor screamed silently.
Don't smile, don't tempt me. Please.
She'd only just got herself on an even keel, managed to stem the loneliness.
Who are you trying to kid?
For a moment, which seemed to stretch a lifetime, Taylor looked at Cade. From his tousled hair that tipped the collar of his shirt, to his unshaven jaw. She remembered the heat that stubble had affected as his lips had kissed hers, remembered the brush of his hair as it tickled her electrified skin.
"Taylor, they're nearly here.” Nita reminded her.
Taylor shot into business mode. “Okay, you're on. I need you."
Never had she ever said a truer word.
"Right, what do I do?"
"Take the ribbon,” she said pointing to the huge reel of ribbon Nita carried. “Start it off at the center point on the rafters, winding down in a spiral. You'll need eight spirals in all to hang to all eight points of the dome."
"Got it."
Cade grabbed the roll, and at a run, snatched the ladder that leant against a pew. He positioned it beneath the center of the dome and scooted up, tack hammer in one hand, the reel in the other, tacking the ribbon in place. “Here's the reel, start rolling, sweetheart,” he said, leaning down to Taylor and passing her the roll.
Working quickly, she unwound the reel so it corkscrewed into a long strand. Once at the far corner, she cut it and Cade who'd followed her progress, scooted over and tacked the end of the first spiral in place so that it hung in a gentle sweep from the dome to the walls.
Turning to start the second one, Taylor faltered and came up hard against Cade's chest. She put her hands out to correct her balance, which along with everything else, could be added to her lists of mistakes.
She felt him, all warm and enticing, his breathing uneven. Time slowed, and she lifted her gaze to his.
Nita was right. He was a hunk. Just looking at him, her body fired, desire pooling way down low and igniting sensual memories that curled into overdrive. But she knew it was more than that. She loved him. Blast it.
His head dropped towards her.
"See what a good team we make, Taylor. You and me—we can conquer anything."
Taylor's throat closed. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything. She wanted him to kiss her. Willed him to. Her heart said please, while her brain warned her.
This was stupid.
This wouldn't work.
He doesn't do permanent and only wants your body.
Grab it. Take it. Forget commitment.
His lips touched hers. Soft and sweet, full of loving and promise and desire. A flutter of a sigh escaped her as she leaned into him, wrapped in his arms.
It felt wonderful. Perfect.
"Come on, you two, the other lovers are arriving in a few minutes."
Taylor yanked herself from Cade's arms. “What the hell am I doing?"
"Kissing me.” He grinned down at her.
"Making a mistake,” she muttered.
Cade's expression hardened, eyes narrowing on her, the golden glints turning brittle.
Without another word, Cade took the reel from her and climbed the ladder another seven times, tacking, unraveling the ribbon, finishing it off and storing the ladder in the tool room at the back of the church before the first guests arrived.
It was all done to perfection as the guests arrived minutes later. Taylor stood to one side and watched their expressions as they entered the silver and gold wonderland.
Cade put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. “Looks good."
It took all her effort not to turn and hold him—to kiss him. Keeping her voice steady and warning her insides to behave, she braved the effort of speaking. “I enjoy this part the most. Seeing the surprise and wonder on their faces, it makes it all worth while."
"Mm, I can understand that."
Thirty minutes later, the organ crescendoed and the newly married couple turned to the congregation and beamed.
"They look so happy and in love,” Cade whispered in her ear.
Taylor jumped. She'd been so mesmerized by the ceremony, watching it unfold. But it wasn't Greta and Erueti walking down the aisle, all smiles for family and friends, but herself and Cade. She'd envisioned the two of them in place of the happy couple.
Stupid
!
Taylor bit back an angry wail. Why do this to herself? She shook her head and turned to Cade as the last of the guests filed out of the church.
"Thanks for your help. How I left that reel of ribbon behind, I don't know."
"I do. You're mind isn't on the job,” Nita butted in as she walked passed with the priest.
"Sounds just like me,” Cade admitted.
"Pardon?"
"Forgetting things. Not concentrating on the job. These last few days has been somewhat, ah ... disturbed."
"It was simply a slip up, that's all."
"Taylor, when was the last time you
slipped up
?” Cade challenged.
"I..."
"See.” He smiled. “My point exactly."
"Don't!"
"You mean the dimples?” And his smile widened.
She nodded, her embarrassment total. Taylor took a deep breath and held herself rigid, so much that every part of her ached. But most of all, her heart ached non-stop.
"You're shining armor routine worked. Thanks. But I've got to get going. Bye.” She hugged her bag to her. And tried for nonchalant. Tried calm and controlled, while inside she screamed fake. Inside she was all twisted and torn and hurting and just wanting to get the hell out of there, far away from Cade so she could start again.
"Going anywhere special?"
"That isn't any business of yours, Cade."
He lifted one dark brow, grinning wider.
Blast him.
"Well it is, just a little. You see, I have to make sure you're going to be a good parent."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You beg me a lot, Ms. Sullivan. I quite like that.” Cade took a few steps toward her, closing the gap. Heat zinged between them, hot and furious, edgy. Taylor bit down hard on her bottom lip.