You were an answer to my prayer! If it weren’t for you, Mia wouldn’t have had a cake, and what’s a wedding without a cake?”
“Not much of a wedding,” he agreed, turning off the water to smile at her, his expression warm. “But it was my pleasure to drive you there, and attend the reception with you. You looked so happy...it made me happy to see you smile and laugh with your friends. I have a feeling you don’t get to see your girlfriends as much as you used to.”
Her mouth curved and yet he saw a shadow in her eyes. “No, but someday they’ll be moms and we’ll have more in common again.” And then just like that the shadow was gone and she was sitting forward in her seat, smiling mischievously at him. “And you, Cade King, were quite popular at the reception. Seems like you knew everybody. There was a line of folks waiting to talk to you all afternoon. I swear you were more popular than the bride and groom.”
“I sure hope not, considering I wasn’t invited.”
Rachel laughed. “You might not have been invited, but Mia was thrilled you were there. She’ll be telling everybody for the next year that a celebrity attended her wedding.”
Cade grew warm, uncomfortable with talk like that. “I’m not a celebrity,” he growled. “And I was there as your wheels. Your assistant. Your driver.”
Her lips pursed and she arched a dark eyebrow. “My chauffeur?”
“Exactly.”
She gave her head a faint shake, even as her gaze searched his. “You really didn’t mind racing around, wrestling with my cake, dealing with my car?”
“Best day I’ve had in years.”
“Stop it.”
He drew an X on his chest. “Cross my heart, Rachel James.”
Her lower lip quivered before she bit down hard into it. “You’re killing me.”
“Why?”
“You’re too good with lines.”
“They’re not lines, Rache,” he said earnestly, wishing he could reach for her, touch her, take her into his arms. “I mean everything I say. I loved being with you today. It felt good. Right—”
“So, how long do you think it’ll be until my car will be ready?” she asked, jumping to her feet, reaching for the bottle of root beer and screwing the cap on. She walked quickly to the refrigerator and put the root beer away, but the tumble of dark hair around her face only highlighted how pale she’d gotten.
Cade silently kicked himself, wishing he could take the words back. What was the matter with him? Why make her uncomfortable? “At least two or three days,” he said. “Maybe more, depending on how hard it is to find the parts and complete the labor. But Phil will call you in the morning once he’s been able to assess things better.”
“Will it be expensive?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Cade hesitated. “Probably.”
“How expensive?”
“Could be anywhere from six hundred to nine hundred dollars.”
“Nine hundred?”
“Provided you don’t need a new engine.”
Panic flared in her eyes. “Seriously?”
Cade jutted his jaw, feeling like hell. “Not what you want to hear, huh?”
“No. Accountants might be busy this time of year, but not wedding-cake folks. We slow after Valentine’s Day and, yes, it’ll pick up late April, but...” Her voice trailed off and then she shrugged and forced a smile. “I’m going to go check on Tommy.”
Down the hall in Tommy’s room, Rachel leaned against the doorway watching him line up his miniature LEGO figurines. Pirates and ninjas and little Harry Potters. She loved watching him play and how engrossed he became in his activity. And he’d always loved his room. From the time he was a toddler, it’d been his sanctuary. He’d miss this room, and so would she.
She was still watching Tommy when Cade came to find her a few minutes later. “Everything okay?” he asked.
Her skin prickled with awareness as he came up behind her. She might not want to be attracted to Cade anymore, but her body certainly knew he was there. “Yes,” she said, flashing him a quick smile. “Just thinking. I’ve lived in this house ever since Tommy was born.”
“There must be a lot of good memories here.”
“Hundreds,” Rachel agreed, thinking of the green-and-white nursery she’d decorated for Tommy and the cheerful Beatrix Potter quilt Grandma had sewn for his crib before making a matching quilt to hang on the wall.
“What’s your new place like?” Cade asked.
“Nice,” she said quickly, maybe too quickly, because she saw the lift of Cade’s eyebrows. “Of course it’ll need a little TLC. Every place does. But it’ll be good once we’re all settled.”
“You’re taking the furniture?”
Rachel glanced past him, back down the hall, toward the kitchen with its solid, scratched oak table, but it was a table she loved more than anything, and then to the dining room and living room beyond.
“As much as I can,” she answered, her fingers curling into a fist that she pressed against her ribs. She wouldn’t be taking the kitchen table with her. She couldn’t. It wouldn’t fit through the narrow apartment doorways. And yet that table represented her grandmother more than anything else in this place. Grandma Sally sat there every morning with her coffee and every night at dinner with her iced tea. And it was home. And maybe it was silly, because it was just a piece of furniture, but it made her feel loved. “It’s an apartment, not a house,” she added, huskily, “so not everything will fit.”
If Cade heard the break in her voice he gave no indication. “When do you move?”
“The new people are moving in on the sixteenth, but I have to be out by the fourteenth so they can clean on the fifteenth—”
“You’re moving on Valentine’s Day?”
She rolled her eyes. “Valentine’s Day isn’t a big deal to me, and Tommy doesn’t care, so it’s not something we focus on around here.”
“Can I help you with the move?”
“I’ve already got that handled.” She glanced around Tommy’s room, which would be the last room packed since he didn’t like his things disturbed. She needed to go through his toys, too, and donate the things he’d outgrown or didn’t play with, but she was so sentimental. Many of the toys symbolized the early years. The years when she hadn’t known what was wrong with Tommy, only that something was wrong with Tommy, even though doctors just told her not to worry so much, that boys were often developmentally delayed, that many little boys struggled with speech...
But she’d known. She’d known that something wasn’t right when a baby wouldn’t
