I puff up my chest in the mirror, tweak my nipple piercing, and assess my abs. Not too shabby. I could wait him out.
The air rushes out of me, deflating my chest through another defeated sigh. Even dead, Vander James Malone would leave a legacy of protection behind. I can already imagine what people would say if the guy died andIstepped in to care for Cady the way she deserves.He’d roll in his grave.His precious only daughter — the last in her family line — tainted.By a low-down, dirty, cradle-snatching ass-fucker.Poor Cady would be shamed and twice as resistant to any advance I could make. She’s not the kind of girl who’d run her family name through the mud, least of all for someone like me.
She’s a good girl, and she loves her father.Loveshim. Why else would she suffer for him the way she does? She works tirelessly to please him, and for what? A frugal pat on the head here and there? Permission to leave the house, but only go to approved places, like her second job? It’s not good enough. She deserves so much more than that.
I wish I could pull her close, hold her tight, and tell her that I see how hard she’s trying. I want to steal her away from it all, and tell her that even though putting herself first for a change may seem scary,everything’s going to be okay. But I can’t. Not unless she sees the mess for herself and intentionally chooses a different path. Until then, all I can do is carefully support her however I can, while I subtly help her realize her worth. It’s like walking a tightrope, or playing a high stakes chess game. If Imake one wrong move, the game is over, and that’s an ending I can’t tolerate. As her self-appointed servant and protector, her triumphs are personal to me. She’s an angel caught in a battle full of demons, and I need to see her win.
My heart races with the passion inside me, and my thoughts get loud.
What happens then? She’ll love you back? Idiot!
Now I’m back to the start of the same argument I have with myself every time. I try to let go of the hopelessness of the situation. As much as I want to climb up on that beautiful woman and leave her dripping with my love, I’m destined to love her unrequitedly from afar.
“Why do you have to be such a stupid, worthless asshole?” I ask my reflection angrily, until I see my father’s frown creasing my face. Intentionally rubbing the lines away, I rumble at him in frustration. “You’re dead to me. You don’t get to make me feel like shit anymore. Only I get to do that now, and I choose not to. I’m a good person, and I’m not hurting anyone by loving Cady from a distance.”
I meet my own gaze in the mirror and hold it steady. “Stop overthinking. The truth is simple, and nothing will change it. It doesn’t matter if you never get to be with her. You love her, and you’ll do whatever she needs you to do to make her life easier and happier, because it’s what she deserves. That’s the decision you’ve made. You don’t need reciprocation to make that commitment to the woman you love. Maybe in the next life, you’ll find each other in different circumstances, andthenyou can be together. She’s worth waiting for.”
I see the pain in my eyes before I turn away. I look like my friends all had when they’d been pining for the loves of their lives. And now they’re all living happily ever after with their wives and kids, and I’m… me. I’mdifferent.
I’ve always been the last in our group to do everything, so I’m used to it, but it doesn’t get easier to be me. If life’s developmental milestones were properly mapped out beyond infancy, I’d have failed to complete any of them on time. I walked late and talked late; was late to every class at school. Once there, I met every learning task with a different perspective than was instructed, which caused further delays, until I could prove that my way worked fine too. I was last to swim. Last to grow pubes. Last to drive. Last to fuck. Last to find my wayhome.
I didn’t even know what home was until I met Cady. It doesn’t matter that we’ll never marry. It doesn’t matter that I’ll never see her belly swollen with my child or see our babies grow to sit around the family fire at Christmas. She’s already given me more than I ever hoped to have — a ray of sunshine on every cloudy day. She’s proof there’s good in this world, and that’s all I need to know in order to survive it.
3
CADENCE
The Beaumont City Library doesn’t have the same kind of quiet as its busier cousins in more populated areas. Our library has the kind of quiet that comes with a lack of patrons. Unless the school kids have a project, the preschoolers come for story-time, or the elderly get lonely and need to see a human who’ll talk with them a while, there may as well be crickets chirping.
Except for once every day, around lunchtime, when a certain tall, darkish, and gorgeous older man walks through the doors and offers me just a little glimpse of something different. Something that makes my heart beat faster. A thrilling gift of forbidden excitement edged with danger.
I wipe my palms down on the boring fabric of my conservative skirt. I wish my clothes could be sexier, but with all the resistance I met from Dad, I gave up fighting for that freedom years ago. My collar is high, my skirt is long, and I look every bit the part of the chaste woman he prefers I be. The world will surely end if I show a little leg or — heaven forbid — I let anyone glimpse just how ample my bosom truly is. The second my buds began to bloom, I’ve been made to feel as if my garden should remain the secret kind. Every authority figure I’ve everhad has pressed upon me that such intimate knowledge should be reserved only for my husband — the husband I will never have, because thanks to the invisible, burdensome, virginal good-girl tower walls my father has built around me to serve his own needs, nobody ever dares pursue me.
I’m so sick of it all. I’m tired of the thankless hours I spend caring for my absent mother, while my father over-commits himself elsewhere, to avoid his home. I’m tired of doing as he says, dressing as he says, and living as he says, just because it’s easier than constantly fighting for my right to be free and then having to retract my words out of guilt when he breaks down in tears.
I’m sick of pretending I’m fine, and I’m done with the endless people-pleasing. As much as I love my family, I want more from life than to serve them. I have no desire to be held prisoner by guilt and emotions that aren’t even mine to feel, and I’m ready to challenge this town’s belief that I’m nothing more than my father’s untouchable daughter. I’m my own person, with my own dreams, and I want to be touched, damn it!
I know exactly whose hands I want on me, too.
I glance at the big clock. It’s nearly lunchtime, so Daryl will be finished his work for the day. How many dreams has he already made come true this morning for the kids in his scholarship programs? Passionate, nurturing, and charitable… could this retired cowboy be any hotter?
My heart beats a little faster, and I pull my hair over my shoulder before sitting up straighter. Perched on the edge of my seat, I rub some color into my cheeks and wait almost breathlessly for the big, green door of the library to creak open.
Right on time, Daryl pushes into my lair, announced by the squeaking hinges. He carries an easy smile and his latest read to return. The man enjoys e-books more than print, but he decided a while back that he wanted to read every physical bookI have. He started with the wall shelves by the door, and now he’s halfway across the room, which is where he pauses now to collect his next book. He’s very open to consuming information on all kinds of topics, so it’s no surprise that he knows so much about so many things. He’s traveled, too, and I appreciate that immensely, because besides these books, a conversation with Daryl is the closest I ever get to experiencing life beyond the county line.
“Good afternoon, Miss Malone.” He slides both books across the counter to me and withdraws his hands before I can complete my absolutely pathetic school-girl fantasy of our fingers brushing against each other. It actually happened once, and the thrill of it had me floating for an entire week.
I offer him a polite smile as I nod. “A pleasant afternoon to you too, Mr. Winters.” I flip through the pages of the book he’s returning. “Any good?”
He gives me a playful, irresistibly sexy smile. “A bit dry, actually.”
I chuckle softly and nod. “To be expected, for a book about a desert, I suppose.” I pick up his latest selection — a book about a different desert — and turn the cover to face him as I grin. “Do you think this one will be any moister?”
“Too soon to tell.” His gaze lingers on my mouth a moment before he clears his throat and looks away. “I’m trying really hard not to judge it by its cover. Or the description on the back. Or the fact that it was likely published before my grandma was born, because the tiny fishing village on the edge of that cover photo is now a very grand city filled with extremely wealthy oil tycoons. Luckily, I downloaded all of your latest romance recommendations, so I have excellent backup reading, should it fail to entertain me.”
My face starts to get hot, so I lower my head to study the book’s cover again. “Is it Dubai?”
“Mmhm.”
