He's the One, Jane Beckenham [best new books to read TXT] 📗

she said, realizing the gnawing in her stomach wasn't nerves but hunger.

"Not sure I can rustle up an ox, but the take-out joint next door does the best fish and chips I've ever had."

"Better than Hammerheads?"

Cade pretended to think a bit on that. “Let's just say different, a casual ambiance.” Pulling his mobile phone from his pocket he punched in a couple of numbers and began listing off an order.

"You ordering for a football team?"

"I'm a hungry boy. Need feeding if I'm going to perform."

Perform?

Taylor's head jerked up, and she stared, wide-eyed at Cade. His eyes twinkled. He looked so good, so relaxed and happy.

Just so darn sexy, don't you mean?

Her belly did another round of flip-flops. Oh, Lordy.

* * * *

"Dinner is superb,” Taylor said as she grabbed another piece of mouth watering battered fish. She licked a drop of sauce off her fingers.

"Best linens and best dinnerware, too.” Cade sounded fractured. Using the edge of his key ring, he flicked the lid off a couple of bottles of ice-cold beer and passed one to her.

"Fish and chips in paper is the best,” she agreed.

"Don't forget the ketchup and a beer.” Cade saluted her with his beer.

"Cheers. To ... us."

"Yeah, to us, to wedding planners."

"And bars, too,” Taylor added laughing.

Cade lifted the bottle to his lips and took a swig of beer. Taylor watched him swallow, the way his Adam's apple bulged, how he wiped the tip of his tongue over his lips.

As he lowered his drink, his gaze leveled with hers. “To good old sex,” he said.

Heat coursed through Taylor's veins. She never knew drinking beer and eating a takeaway could be so sexy. Grabbing a handful of chips, she dipped them in the sauce sachet. “Childhood memories are made of this. And new memories,” she said, munching on the fries. This was one of those moments, one of the unforgettable ones that would stay with her—all night long she reasoned silently.

"You reckon?"

"Uh huh. Well not the ‘good old sex', part,” she said, blushing, “but you know, memorable meals and all that.” She forced herself to continue, knowing Cade's gaze rested on her. “I remember when we were kids, my siblings and I would have fish and chips on a Friday night. Mum said it was her night off."

"She cooked every night?"

"Of course."

"Lucky you."

Taylor caught the change in Cade's tone, giving her reason to wonder about his childhood and family.

For a few minutes they ate in silence. They had set themselves a “picnic” spot against one wall. Cade leant back, long, jean clad legs stretched out; his T-shirt with the Ford logo and a revved up hot rod emblazoned across his chest delineated his muscled body beneath.

"Real boy's toy stuff,” Taylor said, pointing to his chest.

"Yeah. Man's gotta have his passions."

"Um ... I suppose so."

"What about yours?"

"Mine?” Oh, please don't ask. Please. Taylor stared at the beer in her hands and twirled the bottle.

"You trying to play spin the bottle? There's just the two of us, so it could be interesting."

Taylor's breathing slowed, and her lips parted. They were suddenly very dry.

Her nerves started up that tango low down in her belly once more as she weighed up her odds.

Let's play?

Expectation fired in every part of her. She'd played that teen game before—with disastrous consequences.

"Once was enough, thank you very much,” she forced out

"Was it? This is getting interesting. When did you play spin the bottle, Ms. Sullivan?"

Taylor wiped the tip of her tongue over her parched lips, wishing the memories that ripped through brain would just go away and leave her alone. Her heart palpitated and sweat slid between her shoulder blades. She blinked—once, twice, and then squeezed her eyes closed for a second, that was in no way long enough.

Finally, she spoke. “I was fifteen."

"First party?” Cade's intuition caught Taylor unawares, and her head shot up, capturing his narrowed gaze. Heat fused her cheeks.

She nodded. “You guessed?"

"Just lucky.” He shrugged. “Or, more to the point, remembering back to my own ‘first’ time. I guess it wasn't a fun night."

Taylor grimaced. “That's about it. It was the first time I'd been invited to a party. With my brain box family, I wasn't the most popular kid in school.” Taylor trailed a nail along an imaginary pattern in her dress—remembering it all over again. “Those days seem so far away, yet like yesterday,” she said sadly. “Bobby Harcourt asked me."

"The coolest boy in school?"

Her finger halted its course. “Most of the girls thought so."

"And you?"

"I felt ... lucky, privileged that he'd ask the school nerd out."

"And?"

"It was a disaster from the minute I walked in. The music so loud I couldn't hear a word, or think."

"Careful, you're showing your age,” he chuckled.

Taylor offered him a tentative smile. “Probably, but back then I felt so out of my depth.” Exactly like now, she reasoned. “It seemed as if all the school arrived. The so-called adult supervision my father had remonstrated about, turned out to be an older sister—older by about two years. She just wanted to have fun."

"What happened?"

"The party ended abruptly. Drugs and booze, sex in the bathroom. You name it. It happened. Everywhere I looked, something ... was going on,” she whispered. “So I left. Fast. When my parents found out, I was grounded for a month."

"But you didn't do anything."

"No. I was the proverbial good girl, just like you said, Cade,” she said, lifting her chin up and staring at him directly. “Ms. Prim, I think you called me."

He gave her a sheepish grin. “Oops."

"No, you're right. I was then, and ... well, I suppose I am now, too.” But what she hadn't told Cade was that she'd run scared—emotionally, and for some psycho reason, she'd taken sanctuary in the security of what she knew.

Who she knew.

In Rob.

Outside, the blast of a car horn pierced the silent streets and brought reality back with a thud.

All those years ago. Not so different now.

Yes, it is.

It was. Really. Now, she was smack bang in the middle of cutting