Authors: Jane Beckenham
"Purely a figure of speech,” she said waspishly.
"Perhaps, but I rather fancy the thought of you begging me."
"When hell freezes over."
"Sounds hot and sexy."
"In your dreams,” she countered. Taylor scanned the church. Her dreams. All that work, the beauty of the flowers and fragrance, the ribbons. All for a moment in time. She only hoped it created the memories the couple wanted.
"That's just the problem, sweetheart. You're in my dreams. All the time, all of them. In fact, you are my dream."
"I don't want to hear this, Cade. Don't do this to me."
"Do what?"
"Do the ‘I need you, now, let's get down and dirty’ routine."
"Sounds intriguing."
Taylor stalled him, putting her hand up as he went to touch her. “Sounds like too much danger, Cade Harper. I can't do danger anymore. It doesn't last.”
And it hurts too much.
"You wanted to, though."
Enough. Taylor couldn't fight any longer. Her shoulders sagged, all breath exhaling in one long heavy-hearted sigh. “Yes, I did, and you know exactly the reason I did what I did."
The humorous light in Cade's eyes flicked off, and they darkened to a quiet seriousness.
"I do know why, and as I said before, I felt privileged.” As the last guests filed past, giving them a curious glance, Cade pulled her towards him, turning them both away from prying eyes.
With the church emptied, the sound of their voices carried across the vacant space and high into the rafters, mingling with the sparkling ribbon and the golden angels.
"I couldn't figure it out, at first."
"Figure what?"
"Why I had an intense urge to protect you. It's a big bad world out there, and you arriving in my bar saying you want to have sex with me blew me away. Believe it or not, it put me in a difficult situation."
"Yeah, right. Like which day, where, when?"
"No, that wasn't it at all. It's weird, but even in this day and age, I felt a certain responsibility. You were upset when we sort of ... ah, started and stopped."
"Doesn't give a girl great confidence if the guy keeps having second thoughts."
"Okay. I admit, part of me wanted to run a mile—fast, get out while I could. The other part,” he grinned, his fingers trailing hot dots down her bare arms, “that part of me knew I couldn't leave even if I wanted too. I was hooked from the moment you walked into the bar. You're one persuasive woman. You know when I said you were teaching me?"
She nodded.
"It was true. Though I admit I didn't understand the truth of it, at the time,” he admitted.
A sudden volley of expectation hurtled full throttle in Taylor's belly, and her heart skipped several beats.. She struggled to find her voice. She wanted to hope, to pray, but it was too hard.
"What do you mean?"
"Unbeknownst to me, you were teaching me to care."
Taylor lifted a hand to his cheek. She wanted to brush away the ache she saw etched in his eyes, ease his pain and hurt. “You already did. You didn't want my ... my first time to be in that building."
Cade cupped her hand in his. “That's true,” he said, giving her a sheepish grin. “I felt like some skulking teen getting their rocks off. It tainted everything with a sordid taste, and something that should be beautiful and shared started to feel grubby.” He brought her hand to his lips. “I didn't want that for you, Taylor, because you're special."
Taylor's eyes widened, tears welling.
"Yes, you are,” he reiterated. “You've taught me to care—at last, and that, sweetheart,” he said dotting a kiss on the tip of her nose, “is very special indeed."
As Cade pulled back, it seemed as if all Taylor's breath exhaled in one long whoosh, a soft purring sound that filled the whole church, tied up with hope and love and every heart-felt dream she'd ever had.
"I've gone through my life trying not to care,” he continued. “First my mother and father argued, so involved with their own problems they forgot to look at how their actions affected us kids. They didn't care. Then my mother took off without a backward glance. She certainly didn't care enough to take us with her."
"But she had problems,” Taylor said, coming to his mother's defense.
"So big she couldn't come back for us? Perhaps,” he shrugged. “Zane found her in some tenement in Sydney. She's been through several husbands since. But it doesn't change the past. And that past left me believing caring was too hard. It hurt too much—especially where women were concerned."
"And now?"
"Now, I
know
different. You made the difference in my life, Taylor. When you said goodbye, I was angry. Angry because you left."
"But we had a deal."
"I know. Mostly though, I was angry with myself because I was too scared. I hurt like hell and wanted to renegotiate the terms."
"Your terms only, though, Cade. You wanted me in your bed."
"A good place to be,” he grinned, slaking his lips over hers.
Taylor tasted him. It felt familiar. Real.
And wonderful. She wanted him so very badly.
Cade's eyes shuttered for a moment as if it pained him to think about it. “First my mother, then Tania.
"Your girlfriend?"
"Yeah. I thought I loved her. But both times, women I've trusted in my life let me down. They left."
A flicker of hurt slid across Cade's eyes before he wiped it away. “Tania took what she wanted, didn't care about me, and left. So I hardened my heart believing it better to be the one to call the shots and say goodbye."
"Except it didn't work this time."
"No. But that's okay. A dose of my own medicine you could say. You've also taught me to care about
me
, Taylor. A very valuable lesson. I have to trust myself first of all. And if others make different decisions, then there's nothing I can do about it. I'm sorry I hurt you, Taylor. Insinuating you were only good enough for part time was hurtful, but you leaving made me think about what I was losing. And, Ms. Sullivan, I'm not prepared to lose you. Commitment means being together. I want us to be together, Taylor."
Taylor's fingers brushed over Cade's lips. “Shush, I understand now,” she whispered.
"We're the same, really. Two people who hurt. I didn't want to care, so used and dropped women at will. I always made it clear I wasn't into commitment."
"Mm, I remember that."
"Can you forgive me for being a jerk? I should have known, recognized it from the get go, but well ... I was blind."
"Should have known what?"
"That you were different. That you were special. You were the one."
Taylor snuggled into him, delighting in the feel of his arms as they tightened around her.
Warm and safe. That's what he was. A safe haven. The man she loved, so very much.
"My childhood,” Cade continued as if he needed to expunge the past, “made me only care about those I thought of as safe."
"Like Katie and Zane?"
"They were my responsibility, relied on me, so that was okay. I want you in my life. Taylor."
"Oh, Cade."
Cade looked down at her, a quizzical expression on his serious face. “Just oh? How about yes. Okay. Whatever you say, darling? You have me wrapped around your finger."
"Sounds good to me."
"Me, too. I love you, Taylor. Love you to bits. I love you so much it hurts. I cared that you chose me for such an important part of your life."
"Taking my virginity?” Taylor blushed even saying the words.
"Sure loved that role."
"I remember,” she giggled, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
"But once it was over, I realized I didn't want it to be. You'd got to me. And that made me scared as hell. So scared, I ran."
"I remember that, too. But, then, I was no better,” Taylor added. “I thought once would be enough. But you sure do get under a girl's skin."
"Glad to hear it."
"Trust. It always comes down to trust. If it doesn't exist we really have nothing, and sometimes not even ourselves. We've both had to learn to trust others."
"You doing that analyzing thing again, sweetheart?” he teased as he pulled her into the darkened recesses of the church.
"Why is it the people we either love the most or thought we did desert us? I thought I loved Rob. After all the hoopla of announcing our engagement, I realized I'd made a huge mistake. But how do you then turn round and tell a guy who's been diagnosed with a terminal illness—sorry I can't marry you?"
"Tough choice."
"No choice,” Taylor returned. “I couldn't leave him. Rob was so sick. Too sick to work, to read, to do anything except lie in bed."
"With you as his nursemaid."
Taylor nodded, fighting back the tears. Tears of sadness, of loss for a friend, for the joy of finding Cade. “I can accept now that the love I felt for Rob was friendship, but when I realized Rob knew I didn't love him, it made it all the worse. Then just as he died, he said he loved me. I was beside myself. What sort of person doesn't love their fiancé when they're dying? I was so ashamed of myself, Cade."
"And I bet your parents didn't make it any easier, if your mother's exhibition about ‘Saint Rob’ is anything to go by."
"No. Rob's family and ours had grown up next to each other; it was sort of expected. Rob ruined it by dying, and I ruined it when I told them two weeks before the wedding that I didn't think I could go ahead with it. My parents are professional brain boxes. I'm the late arrival, the surprise packet so to speak. And when I wanted to play with Barbie instead of Rubik's cube, they didn't know what they'd got. The other night, when you came to dinner, I finally understood what was happening. I was keeping the pretense of an engagement alive—to someone who was dead, Cade. Dead. It's sad that he was cut down so early in life. But Rob is gone, and I have to live—with or without my parents’ approval. I have to do what's right for me."
"You told them?"
"Yes. No more anniversary dinners."
"So, not only do I have a beautiful and sexy woman in my arms, but a brave lady to boot."
"Scared witless in reality."
"Yeah, but you did it."
"I did,” she agreed smiling up at him. “I've learned to trust my judgment, and I've done it by giving my trust to someone."
"Me?” Cade asked sounding hopeful
"Yes.” She nodded, but looked away as a sudden bout of shyness enveloped her, the “what ifs” attacking her newly found confidence.
"Don't, Taylor. Don't turn from me. I was the lucky one. You gave me such a beautiful gift."
"And I gained one back, actually two."
"Two? I reckon I should ask for a recall,” he teased.
"Be serious,” she said tapping his bare forearm. He caught her hand in his, threading his fingers through hers.
"We're linked, Taylor. That's it—forever."
"I love you, Cade. I never thought I could find someone to love."
"But hey, presto, here I am."
"And you'd better stay."
"Oh, sweetheart. I sure intend to."
Just then, a commotion echoed from outside the church, and Cade slapped his head. “My surprise. You, madam, made me forget."
"As if I could."
"Oh, baby, you do, believe me."
"What surprise, Cade? Spill the beans."
"Ah ... wait ... there's more."
"Cade?” Taylor planted her hands on her hips.
"Don't move, don't go ... nope, on second thoughts come with me."
"Where?"
"Not telling."
"Spoil sport.” Taylor's voice turned into laughter as he raced her out the church and into the side alley beside the church. There, in its splendid glory, was the Lincoln Convertible. The soft-top was up though and from this distance Taylor couldn't see inside.
"You might remember, Cade, I've seen the etchings."
"Yes, but well to put it delicately, we've tried the other three out, how about the fourth?"
"You asking me to have sex with you in the car?"
Cade, at least, had the demeanor to look slightly embarrassed. “Sounds good, but no, that's not actually the surprise. Come on.” He led her towards the car and the closer they got, the louder the noise became.
A dog noise. Barking. Loud and very high pitched.
"You've got a dog in that car."
Cade nodded, and Taylor looked to the car, peering in through the window at the yapping frenzy of fluffy white and brown fur, and back to Cade. “But this is your pride and joy."
"No, it's not, Taylor. You take that title. And just to prove it, I got Milly here for you. All married couples have dogs before they start on the human kind. Kids,” he said beaming.
"Dogs, kids. Married?” Taylor virtually shouted the last word.
"Yes. Married. I want to marry you, Taylor. I want you in my bed, beside me every day and night for the next millennium."
"Does Milly have to join us?"
"Nope—purely the end of the bed."
"Then, it's a deal. You, me and four classic cars and Milly. Sounds like a good start to a family."
"Sweetheart, it sounds just right, as long as that sexy underwear stays."
"Absolutely."
Author Jane Beckenham lives in New Zealand and first found literature as a teenager during the many months she spent in hospital. In books, she discovered dreams, hopes, and stories that inspired a love of travel and romance. Years later, after a blind date, Jane found her own true love and married eleven months later.
Life has been a series of “dreams” for Jane. She believes she can “just do it". Dreaming about walking again, dreaming of raising a family and adopting her girls from Russia, dreaming of writing.
With her family growing up, her life—apart from scraping every moment she can at the computer—is a round of playing Mum's taxi service, all the while wondering what her hero and heroine are up to behind her back! Writing is Jane's addiction ... and it sure beats housework.
Visit Jane's website: www.janebeckenham.com
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