One Funeral (No Weddings #2)(55)

Cade and I blended into the far corner, me on a barstool and him standing between my legs, my skirt hiked high with the scandalous view blocked by his body. I slid my hands over the tops of his broad shoulders and began gripping the tight muscles, massaging.

He groaned. “Oh, God. Please don’t ever stop doing that.”

I laughed. “So what are you gonna do, now that you have your master’s?”

Shrugging, he tilted his head. “Nothing yet. I’m done with school. The education was to better my knowledge for what I wanted to do in life, not meet requirements for a position in some stodgy corporate firm. With Loading Zone managing itself with Ben, and Invitation Only taking a portion of my time, I’m open to any opportunities.”

Pinching my right thumb and forefinger together to release a stubborn knot, I listened, but Cade held his breath at the intense pressure.

“Breathe.” As he exhaled and inhaled deeply, I zeroed in on an idea. “Have you thought about consulting businesses? Maybe on an exclusive basis? You’re a genius at it.”

The knot finally gave way, and I slid the blade of my hand from his shoulder up to his neck. I put gentle pressure on the top of his head with my other hand, urging him to tilt it to the side.

He silently obeyed, groaning. “I hadn’t realized I was so tense.”

“It’s all the studying, hunched over that laptop for weeks.” I switched to his other shoulder, kneading into the muscle, finding different tight spots.

In the background, Cade’s dad and Ben smack-talked each other, but his dad was the worst. “You’re goin’ down, Ben. See all the solids on the table? That’s you. Your balls aren’t cooperating with your stick.”

Ben snorted. “Sounds like the story of my life.” He stalked the table, hunting his next shot.

Cade reached back with an arm and skimmed his hand absently up the back of my calf. “You know, that’s a great thought: a small-business consultant.”

“You’ve done wonders for my business, offering sound, innovative ideas.”

He shook his head. “I only teased amazing ideas out of you. You’re an excellent student. Plus, I had serious interest in seeing you succeed.”

Leaning down, I pressed my lips to the top of his ear, humming. “I knew it. You only wanted me for my cakes.”

“Damn straight I did, woman.” He turned his head, capturing my lips in a kiss.

“Eight ball, corner pocket,” Ben called out, followed by the soft clacking of balls.

Loud shouts and applause startled us, and we glanced over toward the pool table. The entire group had gathered around, clapping Ben on the back. Only the blue-striped ten ball and white cue ball remained on the field of green felt.

“I was hustled.” Mr. Michaelson narrowed his eyes at Ben, then shook his hand, chuckling.

Ben grabbed the blue chalk cube and freshened his cue tip. “Rack ’em, Cade.”

Cade turned, kissing me softly. “You’re my lucky charm, Maestro. Watch over me.” He leaned closer, whispering into my ear, “Ben really is a hustler.”

I laughed, kissing him again before he went toward the table. “He’s not the only man here with slick moves.”

Cade grabbed the rack off the wall, and the two of them walked around the table, pulling balls out of the pockets and tossing them on the felt while Cade corralled them into the triangle. Lifting the rack off the setup, Cade stared at the balls to make certain they stayed motionless. Then he hung the triangle while Ben lined up the cue ball, readying for the break.

In fluid motion, faster than my eyes could follow, Ben sunk a solid and a stripe on the break. He surveyed the table for a moment, then called out, “Solids.” Without skipping a beat, he walked to the far side, lined up another shot, and sunk a second solid.

Cade grinned. “Nice shot. Think you can keep it up?”

I smirked, my mind guttering the question. But unsure in the mixed company of his family and friends, I kept my lips zipped.

Ben simply glanced at Cade, then walked the table, lining up another shot. He sank a third solid as his silent reply.

Cade looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. Then he dropped a deadpan look at me. “You’re sending me lucky vibes, right?”

I laughed, blowing him kisses with both hands. “All the luck I’ve got.”

Ben lined up a fourth shot, requiring a far bank. Either his streak ran out or my luck kicked in, because the angle was off. He not only missed the pocket, but the cue ball rested perfectly as a dead-easy lineup for Cade’s first shot.

Cade glanced up at me, mouthing “thank you” as he approached the table. I focused on him while he lined up a first attempt, sending encouraging vibes.

“Looks like you are lucky for my son.”

Startled at the deep voice that snuck up on me, I glanced at his dad. My heart jumped into my throat at being cornered while everyone else was preoccupied. Cade didn’t talk about his dad much. And everything he’d ever mentioned had implied the man was all business.

Nervous, I smiled at him. “I hope to bring him plenty of luck.”

“So, young lady, what are your intentions with my son?”

My eyes widened, and I swallowed. Was he serious or joking? And is clarifying that something I should do with the father of my new boyfriend? Or would he judge me? My pulse kicked up a few notches.