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

"Your parents sure are into antiques,” Cade said, eyeballing with incredulity the overstuffed room. Taylor followed his gaze with the eye of someone who'd never seen it. Every nook and cranny had been stuffed to bursting with furniture, plate collections, stuffed animals and Victoriana.

"Try living with it."

"Nightmares?” Cade surmised

"Frequently,” she returned and gave him a lopsided grin.

"Sherry, ah ... Mr. Harper.” Her mother looked at Cade as if there was something not quite acceptable, and internally, Taylor cringed. Here it goes again. Same old, same old.

"Call me Cade."

"Oh, right.” She handed Cade the small crystal glass of sherry. Seeing the tiny stem in Cade's large hand, delicate versus strong brought a sudden flurry of tears to Taylor's eyes. She quickly turned and brushed them away. Everything was so up and down. And now this. She knew the outcome. It was always the same.

Cade wasn't Rob.

Just then a woman of about forty walked in. Dressed in black with a crisp white apron tied around her waist, hair tied in a severe bun, she announced dinner. “Mr. Sullivan is running late, but dinner is ready, ma'am."

Cade's hand jerked, droplets of the sherry spilling over the tip of his glass. Taylor caught him staring at her. “A maid?” he mouthed.

"Your father knows how much I like us to eat together, especially on this occasion."

"Occasion? Is it a birthday?” Cade's question caught Taylor unawares and a sharp gasp set her nerves on high alert. She should have warned Cade. She eyed her mother, her stark face softening a fraction. The only time it seemed to soften. Here it comes.

"It's Rob's anniversary; Taylor's fiancée,” her mother explained.

"Ex fiancée,” Cade corrected.

One gray brow on her mother's face arched and in slow motion; she placed her starched white linen napkin on her lap, smoothing out the invisible creases, ignoring Cade's correction.

"Rob was such a beautiful and talented young man. He was way ahead of his time, you know."

"With what?"

Taylor cringed. She willed Cade to shut up, to just say, sorry, he had to go. Once her mother started...

"Mathematics, of course."

Cade's gaze swiveled in her direction, brows arching in an unspoken question.

"My parents lecture at universities all round the world."

"In mathematics?"

Her mother straightened, a flicker of a smile tilting the corners of her mouth into an imitation of a smile. “Of course. And Rob would have followed in our footsteps. He was on his way."

"Sounds perfect."

"It was. He was absolutely just the man for our Taylor. A bit older and wouldn't have minded her ... ah ... creative tangents."

"Mother.” Dear God. Nothing had changed. Rob was perfect. She was to be perfected.

"Tangents?"

Taylor watched the play of lines on Cade's face crease, his brows knotting. The pulse in the side of his neck throbbed erratically, its beat hypnotizing. She remembered licking it, tasting his skin.

"This ‘business’ of hers. We've always told Taylor she needs to take things seriously, then she'll find her place."

"Place?” Cade's pulse was slamming up and down now, the muscles in his neck corded. There was such a disappointed set to Cade's mouth, Taylor's nerves coiled ever tighter. This conversation didn't bode well.

"You know her brother has been awarded a fellowship at a prestigious university, and Kiera, her sister, is head surgeon now."

"Impressive."

"Yes.” Her mother sighed, her gray eyes flickering briefly in her direction.

Cade stood up and placed his glass down on the mahogany side table. He turned to her mother. “Actually, I think Taylor's business is a great success."

"Perhaps."

"Perhaps, nothing, Mrs. Sullivan. Taylor is creative, dedicated and very successful. She gives couples the chance to start life with their dream wedding. Isn't that what it's all about? Dreams of the future?"

For a few tense, silent moments, it was as if there was a stand off between Cade and her mother. Taylor's head swiveled back and forth, unsure who would be victorious.

In this house no one balked at her mother. But then, her mother had never battled Cade.

Go, Cade, she wished silently.

"What do you do, Mr. Harper?” her mother asked, her imperious gaze never wavering.

"I own a bar."

"Several, actually, mother,” Taylor interrupted. “Plus Cade is opening a new line of boutique bars."

"Really. How interesting.” She may have said it, but Taylor knew her mother was looking down her very long nose right now. Cade, in her opinion, wasn't of any interest and more than likely the bottom of the pecking order.

"It is, Mrs. Sullivan. The cash flow is great. I own all the buildings. I'm a real successful guy. I didn't go to university, but then, unlike you, I don't judge people by a piece of paper that says whether they studied or not. And, then, of course, I'm not Rob."

"Cade."

Cade silenced her with a flick of his hand. “Rob, Mrs. Sullivan, is dead. Long gone. You can still love a dead man, but they're not much use. Only to you, that is."

"What are you talking about? Where did you find this...?"

"Boor? Is that the word you're trying to find, to pigeonhole me with, Mrs. Sullivan? Sorry. I might not have fancy manners or come from the right side of the tracks, but what I have is mine. I've worked damned hard for every piece of brick and mortar and I'm proud of it."

"I ... never,” her mother stumbled over her words, something Taylor had never, ever seen.

Go Cade. Go!

"No, that's right,” Cade interrupted her. “You've not lived. You've set yourself up here in your ivory tower, with your overstuffed antiques and dead animals hanging on the walls. You judge everyone by your own limiting standards. Even your daughter."

"Cade, don't."

He turned to her, and she saw the fire in his eyes burning bright. “It's okay, sweetheart. Your mother needs to hear this. It's about time."

Taylor agreed silently. Trouble was, she'd never had the guts.

"You judge Taylor by some odd-ball idea that she needs to be the same as you and your over qualified high-falluting brain boxes. Well, she might not have a Mensa IQ, but she's bright, she's funny, she's creative, and she's making her own