Sound of Silence(31)

"I've got this guy. Go get dressed. I have something to show you."

"Where are we going?" I ask, fumbling to right my tank top.

"You'll see," he says, coaxing a giant sound from JT.

I scramble into my room to change into a floral sundress that cinches at my waist and tame my hair by pinning it up in a messy knot. Note to self: Find time for a cut before Dax and Cara's wedding. For now though, and for wherever we're going, I'll pass inspection. At least I think so when I walk out and Caden whistles.

A shiver bristles down my spine as his eyes stalk me. I like my independence, but I don't mind giving Caden pieces of me to take care of. One is JT. He loves him with the intensity of a father. Another is my trust. I gave it freely the night we met, but he's earned it time and again with his actions and support. His friendship is my pillar of strength. But when he looks at me like he is now, like he could devour every inch of me, when the light that constantly shines in his eyes dips into darkness and scorches my flesh from head to toe, I want to give him all of me. Everything.

My breath sticks somewhere in my chest with the desire to tell him so. It wants to push the words out, scream for him to take what he wants, but instead I lower my head to search for my jean jacket. Coward.

Justin's memory lingers so close to my every movement and thought, I have a hard time reconciling a craving to move on. To let someone else fill the void his death created. I miss him, and I like Caden-the two war in my head, and I'm not sure how to let one of them win.

"Come on, sunshine." Caden coaxes my gaze to his with soft words and an outstretched hand. JT is bundled in his car seat and held by the roll bar next to his thigh. Gus sits with his patented patience next to his feet. It's a picture worth a thousand heartbeats, and mine picks up the pace to give in to him as my fingers settle in his warm grip. He lifts my wrist to brush a kiss against my skin and then glances at me through his thick lashes.

I want to remember intimacy. I need to feel it. When I think of Justin, I'm filled with the piercing sting of love and then bone-jarring loss. But our most intimate moments are no longer vibrant, more like a snapshot lodged somewhere in a weathered photo album. I wish there was a manual for my life. In this minute, I'd flip to the chapter Post Justin: When It's Okay to Feel. I think I'd like to start feeling again with Caden. But right this second, I don't know how to leap the Justin hurdle.



       
         
       
        

"I'm sor . . ."

"No." He shakes his head. "Never be sorry, not with me."

I nod because I can't get anything past the lump in my throat.

"Good girl." He presses his lips to my forehead, lingering for a moment before whispering, "Come on, sunshine. Let's start something new."

I grab my bag and follow him out the door. We buckle into my Audi as we always do when JT is with us. Caden would never put him in jeopardy, and his truck isn't safe without a backseat. Gus hops into his spot next to the baby, and we're off on a mystery adventure as a unique but familiar family unit.

Caden bites his lower lip, chewing on it as we work our way out of town. He glances at me and takes the hand lying in my lap, placing it on the gear shift with his on top. It's easy to wrap myself up in the warmth of his gesture. I like having a part of me fit so closely to him. It feels good, and I let myself enjoy it for the ten minutes we maneuver through the streets and then down Dax and Cara's drive. But instead of pulling up to their house, Caden veers uphill and stops outside of a cabin five times the size of mine.

"Who lives here?" I ask, tilting my head to get a better look out the window.

He slides from the car and is at my door in record time to retake my hand, but he doesn't let go when I'm standing in front of him. "We do," he says, scanning my face.

We do. The jumble effect takes place, and his simple words get confused in my mind while he retrieves JT. I'm sure I've misunderstood, even while he drags me inside with Gus bounding ahead as soon as we're through the entrance.

It's a wide, open space with whitewashed wood on the floor and walls, broken in the middle by a huge staircase and a modern kitchen boasting a double oven and granite island. And windows-they're everywhere. So is the sun, drawing attention to the view. We're surrounded by redwoods and blue sky, fresh scent and sawdust, as if the place was built and cleaned the minute before we walked in.

"Say something."

My pulse races and I turn in a circle, like Cinderella on crack at the ball. "Truth?"

"Every word, all the time," he says, setting a sleeping JT by a wraparound couch. It's big, like everything else.