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

"That's not what you said a minute ago. You wanted me to touch you—everywhere,” he said, his voice husky and salted with the aftermath of sex.

"It's over. We've concluded our business deal. You've the plans you need so you can open the new bar, and I've..."

"Had sex."

"Don't be crass."

"Why not? You've reduced it to that level."

"I ... I'm sorry, that wasn't what I meant."

"Then what did you mean? Wham, bam, thank you, Cade?"

"What did you expect? That I'd fall for your charms, stay in bed a bit longer, until you decide it's over. Well, no way, that isn't how it's going to be. As of now our business association is terminated.” Taylor folded her arms across her chest, willing the evening to end and knowing Cade stared at her, confused and hurt, she couldn't take much more.

"Please, Cade?” Taylor squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back the threat of tears.

She loved him. Truly. Deeply. Totally. Yet she would keep that secret to herself. Cade had to figure out what he wanted first, and it couldn't just be her body.

Lust wasn't love.

Cade said he needed to see her, that he ached for her. Well, he had to figure out what that ache was.

Chapter Thirteen

"You ditched him? Taylor, are you absolutely nuts?” Nita punched the print key on the keyboard, while staring at her above the screen.

Taylor remained mute. Oh, she was nuts all right. Completely bonkers in love with the guy, but she'd still walked away.

Gathering up the printed emails, queries, bookings and replies regarding venues, et cetera, Nita handed them over to Taylor and sank back down on her chair. Her brows knitted. “I don't understand, Taylor. You fancy the pants off the guy, right?"

Yep she'd done that—more than once. Taylor nodded, unable to stem the tide of heat flooding her cheeks.

"So why say sayonara?"

"Because that was the deal."

"Blah, blah, deal-shmeal."

"Look, we've got weddings coming out of our ears; I don't have time to discuss this."

"You should."

Taylor turned and rested her hands on her hips. She gave Nita a “Really” sort of stare. “Why exactly?"

"Because you're turning into your mother. You're living your life for your past, not what could be, can be."

Nita's observations were too close for comfort, and more than a tad uncomfortable with her assistant's intuitive analysis, Taylor looked away. “Don't be fanciful,” she said, trying to counter Nita's argument, aware of a sense of sinking in a quagmire of denial. “I know we're in the business of making fantasies come true, but that's for other people. Not me."

Yeah. Yeah!

"And why not?"

"Just because, that's all. Now, let's get going. I've got to get to the caterers before ten."

Gathering up her bag, Taylor made it quite clear to Nita she didn't want to discuss her love life any further, and thankfully, the young woman took the hint. But the trouble was, although Taylor wasn't verbalizing them, thoughts of Cade wouldn't abate.

She loved him. It was as simple as that. And as complicated.

She had put her life on hold for four years, lived it according to how others decreed. Now, she had to do it for herself, and Cade had to decide what he wanted.

Hasn't he already?

No. No. No. He had to decide. Her—or to hold onto his past, just as she had been doing.

But first, Taylor had one more visit to make. A last one. She had to say goodbye to someone.

* * * *

Home to thousands of souls, all loved, all departed, the gently rolling contours of Schnapper Rock cemetery overlooked the western inlet of the Manukau harbor. It was a world of peace, with the soft caw of gulls flying overhead and the sway of the native trees shifting in the slight breeze. Everywhere, bouquets, potted plants and single stems dotted the landscape, every one of them left for someone gone from this world, but remembered by those left behind.

Several narrow paths, just wide enough for a car to traverse, meandered through the park-like grounds. Taylor drove the path so well remembered and, as she tread across the grass, counting row upon row of gravestones, tears welled. A life cut down far too early, never having the chance to reach its potential.

So very sad.

Yet, Rob had been glad to go and had born his pain with dignity.

He'd known her secret, though he'd never said a word. Just asked her to be happy. A momentous task when you're riddled with relief that they've gone, and you're still alive.

Taylor had come to say goodbye and to ask for forgiveness.

Bending down in front of his gravestone and seeing his name, the lettering worn by nature, Taylor cried.

For Rob. For herself. For life.

"I've found a man to love, Rob. A good man. Kind, considerate. But he doesn't want to love anyone. He hurts too much, so I've decided to go on, alone, and start living my life. You won't be forgotten, but I need to be me, not the person my parents wanted to mould me into.” Pushing herself up from the cushioning grass, Taylor brushed her hand across the top of the gravestone.

It felt cold. Dead.

The time had come to say a final goodbye.

* * * *

"You're going out dressed like that?” Nita's eyes bugged, and if Taylor hadn't been so darned nervous, she would have giggled at her assistant's astonished expression.

"Something wrong?” she queried, trying for nonchalance.

"You are joking aren't you?"

"Do I look like it?"

Nita shook her head.

Taylor could understand her assistant's bafflement. She patted her hip. “Don't they look good. Is my behind too big?” she giggled, pirouetting full circle.

"Big butt? You've got to be joking; though not much of it is covered."

Taylor squirmed. Nita was dead right. “They're leather."

"I can see that.” Nita eyed the shiny black shorts that appeared to be so tight they could have been painted on.

They felt exactly as they looked. Too tight. And definitely very sexy.

"Where on earth did you get biker shorts?"

"We deal in fantasy,” Taylor said giving her a cheeky grin. “So, I hired them from