One Funeral (No Weddings #2)(54)
Tilting my head, I raised my brows. “For a split second, it was awful. Like the stab of a flu shot. But afterward, it wasn’t so bad.”
He blinked. “Damn, Maestro.” Then he burst out laughing. “I maybe love your brain, too.”
In Cade’s gourmet kitchen, a space I’d adopted as my second home, I followed the group around the corner to a door I’d never been through. We climbed down Berber-carpeted stairs, and I gripped the wooden railing, glancing back at Cade.
“Remind me again why I’ve never been down here?”
He leaned down, chuckling softly into my ear. “You didn’t want to see my basement.”
Heat flushed into my cheeks as I remembered a conversation rampant with sexual innuendo. “Ah, yes. Now I recall.”
“You waaant to see my baaasemeeent.” The singsong accusation in his deep voice at my ear had me biting my lip to keep from bursting out laughing.
But I held it together as we turned at a right angle to descend another flight. When we reached the bottom, my eyes widened at the enormity of his basement and everything in it.
Off in the corner straight ahead was a full bar with a mirror-backed wall displaying rows of premium liquor bottles three shelves high. A variety of glassware hung above the bar from a suspended rack. The bar itself glistened from overhead lighting, which spotlighted the silver-flecked blue granite top. Six chrome and black leather stools sat in a row beneath it.
The opposite corner wall held a large flat-screen TV. Oversized leather club chairs were positioned in an arc facing it. Forward from there was a pool table, and along the wall, a shelf bar and another six barstools. In the nearest corner, adjacent to the staircase, was a foosball table. The ceiling was black, the walls a light tan, and the floor a medium-toned Berber carpeting. Two short, wide windows near the ceiling brought in natural light.
We were ten feet underground. My chest tightened, my mild claustrophobia kicking in. Working through it, I took a deep breath and focused on the light shining in from the clerestory windows and the staircase leading up to the sunny house just above us.
Cade entered my line of vision and smiled, calming me further. I crossed over to him and leaned into his warm, solid frame, grounding myself.
He wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. “Want a beer?”
I glanced over at the bar. Ben raised a silver shaker over his head as Stacy, Laura, and Cade’s sisters hugged the edge of the counter, watching him. Martini glasses lined the granite top, lemon twist spirals clinging to their sugared rims. “No thanks. I think I’ll have what Ben’s mixing up.”
He growled, nuzzling his lips into my neck. “Drink traitor.”
I shook my head, laughing. We made our way over to the bar, his arm around my shoulders. As we approached the others, he tucked me tighter into his side. Ever since we’d decided to take things to the next level, letting everyone know we were an item only an hour ago, he seemed to revel in the fact, proudly announcing our newly elevated status with his actions.
And I loved the possessive attention. His constant touching and adoring looks calmed me through a heavy situation. I mean, this was his family, after all. Plus his closest friends who were considered family.
The conversation apparently had been droning on about Invitation Only. Something about an upcoming event and soliciting business for the summer.
Holding his hands up, Cade interrupted. “Hey, I’ve just graduated. Today is about my accomplishments and freedom. Talk about yourselves some other time.”
We burst out laughing. Ben poured the last of the lemon drops, and Kiki raised her glass. We all followed suit, us girls with our martinis and the guys with their beers. “To the most important man in the room, now and every other day of the year, if he has his way.”
Cade scowled and ruffled Kiki’s hair before breaking out in a huge grin. “To my self-importance on the one day academia agrees with my brilliance.”
“Here, here,” Mase said.
“To Cade Michaelson!” shouted someone else.
“Cheers to that.” I brought the glass to my lips and sipped on the sweet-tart drink.
“Wait a minute. I thought I was the most important Michaelson in the room.” Cade’s dad stepped in behind him, clapping him on the shoulder.
Cade leaned over to him. “Where’s Mom? Don’t let her hear that.”
“Too late.” His mom sidled between them, laughing. “We’re all a self-important bunch, aren’t we?”
Cade shook his head. “Mom, you’re the least self-important person I’ve ever known. And you raised us all well, Dad included.”
More laughter followed. The atmosphere was fun and easygoing. Even Stacy and Laura were pressed into Ben’s and Mase’s arms, everyone glowing with smiles from the love in the room.
All of a sudden, Ben gave Cade’s dad a heavy look. “Garrett, I challenge you to that game of pool you’ve always been threatening me with.” Ben put his empty beer bottle down and grabbed two others, dangling them in front of Cade’s dad.
The elder Michaelson’s playful expression vanished as he took one of the offered bottles and narrowed his eyes, sizing up Ben. “You’re on. And when I mop the table with your sorry ass, my son is next.”
Ooo’s and ahhh’s sounded out low under hushed breaths as the group migrated toward the pool table. Cade’s dad rolled up his sleeves. Ben put the beers on the narrow shelf bar before examining the selection of maple pool cues.