One Funeral (No Weddings #2)(20)

He snorted, fighting laughter. “The horse is your knight. Yes, he does L-shaped moves—one space then two on a right angle, or two spaces then one—in any direction. The pointy guy is your bishop, and you’re right, he moves on the diagonal. The queen can move in any direction on a row she’s on. And the king can only move one space in any direction. Pawns can only move forward, are only able to move two spaces on a first move, and they can only capture pieces on the diagonal.”

Head swimming with rules, I waved my hands wildly over the board. “Let’s just start. I’ll learn better as we go.”

And so the game began. Cade talked me through every play on either side. He let me decide which piece I wanted to move, but then had me examine possible second and third moves from there, as well as vulnerabilities I’d opened up by my action.

The game was actually quite complicated.

And a blast.

Midway through our second game, I started moving pieces without thinking much beforehand, learning from the consequences. For the third game, I concentrated. I made decisions with careful thought, taking every possible angle into consideration with each move. And I played better, capturing more of Cade’s pieces.

He removed his hand from his chin and moved his rook, placing my king one move away from checkmate.

But if I read the board right, we wouldn’t get that far. I moved my piece, going for the kill. “Queen takes knight.”

His gaze lifted to mine, heating. “Yeah, she does.”

I smirked. “Oh, and checkmate.”

Blinking hard, he stared back down, scouring the board for a way out. “Nice move, Maestro.”

“Thanks. I have a few.”

He regarded me for a moment but said nothing as we started to replace pieces on their colored squares.

I groaned, rubbing my temples. “My brain hurts.”

He stood and stretched his legs, walking into the center of the room. “Give it a few games. Soon you won’t think about the moves, and the big picture will jump out at you more vividly.”

I snorted and got up. “I sure as hell hope so. I plan on kicking your ass again. And often.”

Before I turned fully toward him, he embraced me from the side, solid and warm. Then he dropped his lips down to my neck. “I look forward to it.”

I shuddered at his heated breath trailing down my neck and swallowed hard. My brain scrambled, and I couldn’t remember what we were just talking about. Chess?

He chuckled. “C’mon, Maestro. It’s late. Walk me out before we jump the tracks on our whole no-pressure non-dating thing.”

I nodded, thinking he made very good sense but feeling so much like jumping the tracks. Or him.

He grabbed his jacket off the coat hook and shrugged into it. “Hey, did you get the email I sent earlier today?”

And just like that, the shift to business brought me out of my tawdry thoughts. I nodded. “About tomorrow’s meeting? An Easter event?”

He sighed. “Yeah. Don’t know what it’s all about. When Kristen doesn’t send a theme, I have no idea what we’re doing. I’m thinking it won’t be religious, which only leaves an egg-hunt vibe—which gives me the hives.”

I laughed. “Why?”

He shot me another deadpan expression. “More rules we’d made when my sisters and I created Invitation Only. No balloon animals. No clowns. No kids.”

I held back laughter and braced myself as he leaned in and placed a quick kiss on my cheek. As fast as the searing contact had been, he pulled back, walking backward onto my front stoop. “Good night, Maestro. See you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Cade.” I leaned into my doorframe and watched him climb onto his bike and ride away. My thoughts drifted from the chaste kiss to the heated ones we’d had, and I pulled my lower lip into my mouth. I released it and blew out a slow breath. This waiting thing? So overrated.





Shortly after 8:00 p.m. Saturday night, I knocked on Kristen’s front door and waited a couple of minutes to no answer. When I turned the latch, it was unlocked, and I let myself in.

The front entryway had a single lamp on, and the dim hall lights led me toward the back where a rising commotion echoed through the house. Some kind of cheesy stripper music was streaming from tinny-sounding speakers.

I made my way back to Kristen’s living room, a smile curving onto my face as the music continued to play amid escalating shouts and grunts.

Cade stood over one of the dining chairs, leaning over the table, holding his laptop—the source of the horrendous song—out of reach of his sisters Kiki and Kendall, who swiped at it from opposite sides. Kristen, the oldest of the four, ran around to the other side of the table, snatched it from him, and snapped it shut. Blessedly, the music stopped.

Kendall collapsed across the table. “Thank God.”

Cade relaxed down into his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face.

Kiki shoved his shoulder hard. “We are not playing that.”

Cade’s gaze drifted over to me, and he winked before looking at Kiki. “Yes, we are. You three have vetoed my music choices for the last time. At McGinty’s, they played my raunchy suggestions even after you removed them from the playlist. Face it, I know what the clients want before they do. I sure as hell know them better than you.”

Kristen scrunched her face but didn’t deny his claim.