Stealing Rose (The Fowler Sisters #2)(64)

“Enough to take it … further? Sometime?”

I skim my fingers lower, into his pubic hair, the head of his softening cock brushing against me. “Yes,” I whisper as I turn my face into his shoulder. I’m a little embarrassed, but not enough that I don’t want to talk about this. “As long as you’re gentle. You’re … kinda big.”

He laughs a little as he slips his arm around my shoulders. “Did I hurt you?”

I shake my head. “Not really. It stung a little.”

“I’ll be careful. I’ll always be careful with you. You know this, right, Ro?”

I don’t know. Do I?

“Caden?”

“Yeah?”

I clear my throat, scared over how I’m about to change the subject big-time. “You mentioned your father earlier.”

He tenses up; I can feel his muscles go completely still. “Yeah?” he says again.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He’s quiet for a moment before he says, almost reluctantly, “Go ahead.”

“How … how did he die?” I trace patterns on Caden’s skin, running my finger through the little patch of hair in the center of his chest. I feel like I have every right to ask him that question. I have a dead parent too. One nobody talks about and I want to share in our past grief together. Not get weepy or anything, but I want … I want reassurance that it’s okay to talk about our parents. It’s fine to speak of the dead, you know? I’m tired of hiding my feelings.

Caden lets out a harsh breath and gives my shoulders a squeeze. “It isn’t pleasant.”

“Death never is,” I reassure him.

“He killed himself.” He stiffens against me for the tiniest moment but I continue touching him, my heart full of sadness but also … relief. We have something in common, however terrible it may be. “He worked for an investment firm in Manhattan and was a real hotshot. Worked up the ranks quick, made all sorts of money.”

“And then?” I urge because I know there’s an and then moment. Something awful must have happened for the man to take his own life.

“And then he got too greedy. Started using his clients’ money for personal expenses, figuring he could gain it all back with his investments. But that didn’t work. He got caught in a vicious cycle and once it was discovered … he was ruined. He lost his job. There were threats of lawsuits and criminal prosecution. My mom said she would stand by him no matter what, that we could get through this together because we were a family, but he … went to work to finish cleaning out his office and then threw open the window and jumped out.”

“Oh, God.” I sit up to look at him, our gazes meeting, his full of pain and irritation and … yes. Anger. “That’s awful.”

“Yeah. I was mad for a long time. I still am. He hurt my mom almost irrevocably. After he died, she wouldn’t date, had no interest in men at all. She still won’t consider letting anyone into her life for fear they’ll leave her,” he explains, sounding sad. He reaches out and grabs my hand, playing with my fingers.

That explains so much. So, so much. I’m having a total aha moment here and it’s at his expense, making him have to tell this painful story. But it needs to be said. This sort of reveal will only bring us closer and I want that so badly.

“How old were you when it happened?” I squeeze his hand in mine.

“Thirteen.”

My heart hurts for him. And for me, too.

Swallowing hard, I decide to share my own secret. “My mom committed suicide, too.”

His eyes widen the slightest bit. “She did?”

I nod, dropping my head so I don’t have to look at him. You’d think it would be easy to share this, but the topic of my mother is hardly ever discussed. I find it difficult to talk about her and I didn’t even know her. “I was practically a baby. She overdosed on prescription pills. My father woke up one morning and she was lying next to him, cold and still. She took the pills during the night and he had no idea.”

“Ah, Ro.” He pulls my hand so I’m falling on top of him and he gathers me close, my head tucked under his and my cheek pressed against his shoulder, our arms around each other. “That’s terrible.”

“I know.” I bite my lip, ready to reveal the secret that has been weighing on me since I read her diaries right before Cannes. “What’s worse is I think I know why she did it. Why she killed herself.”

“What do you think?” He runs his fingers up and down my arm lightly, making me shiver.

“I read her diaries. Our father gave us each a box of her personal items and I found her last diary inside.” I take a deep breath. “She met someone else. Another man. She was having … an affair and when the man broke up with her, she was completely devastated. She wanted to leave my father. She’d been making plans.”

Caden says nothing, just keeps stroking my arm, holding me close. I close my eyes and breathe in his scent, not sure if I should say anything else or let it go. It feels so good to confess what I found. I’ve kept this as my personal burden to bear and it’s been so hard. No one else knows about my mother’s indiscretions. At least, I don’t think anyone knows.

My father might know, but I’m sure he didn’t want to shatter my mother’s image. And I appreciate that, but I also feel like it’s such a lie. We’re a family full of lies and secrets.