One Funeral (No Weddings #2)(56)

I looked toward Cade, but he was busy, focusing on yet another shot.

The pressure from Mr. Michaelson and wrestling with feeling claustrophobic got the better of me, and I suddenly needed to get some fresh air.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Michaelson. Would you excuse me for a minute?” I bolted toward the stairs without waiting for his reply.

I felt like an idiot for only a split second, because I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs to breathe, let alone think properly to have a decent conversation. I rushed up the stairs and flew into the safe haven of Cade’s beloved kitchen, taking in a full breath while striding toward their dining table. I braced my arms on the back of a chair and stared out into the yard. I calmed by degrees while watching the wind rustle the leaves of the mature trees outside.

As oxygen flowed more freely into my lungs, someone approached from the stairwell.

“You okay, Maestro?” The concern in his rich baritone voice calmed me further.

He embraced me from behind, then turned me around. My vision blurred, moisture welling in my eyes.

Unable to speak, I shook my head, dropping my forehead onto his chest. The dam burst and tears flowed down my cheeks and onto his shirt.

“Hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” He tightened his arms.

We stood there for a while. Me silently crying. Cade holding me. But he let me guide the way, being a supportive pillar, even when he had no idea the cause of my distress.

Finally, I found solace in the comfort of his arms, and the tears stopped flowing. I pulled back from him, imagining streaks of mascara tracking down my cheeks. My lips curved into a weak smile. “Bet I look like a wreck.”

He only tilted his head, an adoring look on his face. “You’re gorgeous. Besides, I hear raccoon eyes are all the rage.” He lifted the untucked bottom of his white dress shirt and used a corner to wipe my cheeks and under my eyes.

I sniffed. “Sorry. Your dad must think I’m a total moron.”

He shook his head. “No. He’s the moron. He feels awful and said he was only teasing with the ‘what are your intentions with my son’ act.”

Closing my eyes, I swallowed hard. “I freaked out.”

“Do you know why? Help me understand, so I can help you.”

Shrugging, I shook my head. “When your dad asked me that question, I was caught off guard, that’s all. Then I couldn’t breathe and panicked, running away.”

He smirked. “Hey, at least you didn’t grab a taxi and abandon me at the curb. I only had to come get you in my kitchen. We’re making progress.”

I nodded, remembering my near meltdown at McGinty’s months ago after my ex had surprised me. I’d fled, needing an escape from everything, including Cade. I drew in a deep breath. “I need to apologize to your dad.”

“Yeah, maybe. Bringing him up to speed might stop the binge drinking you just sparked.”

My eyes widened. “Oh, shit. Really?”

“No, Maestro. I’m kidding. And my dad’s joking bark is worse than his bite.”

I stared at his chest. “I misinterpreted your dad’s joke and panicked unnecessarily. When your dad surprised me, my mild claustrophobia intensified. It felt like everything was closing in around me.”

“Ummm, you weren’t claustrophobic in the church supply closet.”

Blinking, I gaped up at him. “Your hands and mouth were all over me.”

“Actually, your nipple was in my mouth.”

I snorted. “What, like I tripped, and it landed between your teeth? Is that your story?”

The corners of his lips twitched, but he fought the smile. “No, I’m saying whenever you panic, you should stick your nipple in my mouth.”

I rolled my eyes. “You would say that.”

“Got you out of your head in the closet, didn’t it?”

Uncertain of where he was going with this, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I am not sticking my nipple in your mouth down in the basement.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned it sideways, typing away with his thumbs.

“What are you doing?”

He glanced up. “Closets are acceptable nipple-sucking places, yes?”

I laughed. “Yes. Closets, yes. Basements, no.”

Nodding, he typed a few seconds more. “I made a note to have a walk-in closet installed in the basement next week.”

Trying not to smile, I slipped my hand into his and tugged him out of his kitchen.

“Where are we going?”

“We are going back down into your basement. I will be apologizing to your dad.”

He grinned. “While I’m scoping out potential closet locations.”





After everyone left the graduation party, including his dad, who was very gracious and understanding with my heartfelt apology, Cade pulled me out onto his back deck. In all the months I’d been coming over, we’d never been there. All I’d ever seen was darkness through the windows while we ate dinner.

Tonight, we wandered out into the darkness. He led me by the hand down stairs with no railing into a sizable yard. Large trees stretched above us, shadowy forms against the swath of stars glittering overhead. Thin solar lights cast a faint bluish-white glow along a broken stepping-stone path.

“This is one area I still need to remodel. It’s a mess.”