Paradise Found: Cain (Paradise #2)(17)

“I’m covered,” I said. He would learn soon enough; I was all set in the Valley.





It was summer semester again, and I was planning on going home for the long weekend. My class schedule was Mondays through Thursdays. As a struggling college student, who was on my way to medical school, I used the extended weekends to work. The semester abroad put me a semester behind, but I didn’t worry about it. I’d be in school for years at this point, even longer if I didn’t earn money on a steady basis.

Work at The Vineyard Inn was flexible. I could make my own hours, and any help I offered my grandparents they appreciated. I owed them everything, and it was more than obligation that made me return to work for them. I loved them like parents as I had lost my own. Killed outside a low-end casino in Vegas, my parents were left to die in an alley. My mother apparently shielded my father as she was shot first. If only someone had found them sooner. I’m told they were holding hands when they were discovered. The romantic image of them inspired me to become a doctor. I wanted to save lives.

I was leaving the science building, heading for the parking lot when I saw him. His arms folded to shield him, his ankles crossed in a casual display, Cain’s head bent forward as he was obviously waiting for me. The giveaway, it was my car that he was propped against. As I drew closer, he looked up and bit his lip. A slight smile was attempting to grow on that seductive mouth, but he was holding it back.

“Hey,” I said weakly, sounding like a teenager.

“Hey.”

We remained silent, him staring at me, which made me uncomfortable. His eyes could hypnotize with one look, and I felt drawn to him when I didn’t want to be. I stepped closer without thinking, the attraction to him too strong, and he straightened to his full height. He filled my space and I was only breathing in Cain.

Must. Look. Away, I encouraged myself internally. It was having no effect.

“See ya, Sofie,” someone called from a car or two away, and it broke the spell. I blinked and stepped back, realizing suddenly that my chest was rising and falling with each labored breath. I waved casually to my right, not even certain that’s where the voice came from.

“What can I do for you, Cain?” I asked formally, my voice coming out in a squeak. His eyes dilated, and when I thought they couldn’t get any darker, they did. A flirtatious gleam sparked, and the side of his mouth crooked up. He bit his lip again as if he had a retort, but didn’t wish to share. It was a secret, like I was.

“Have dinner with me?” he asked, and I rewound into the past. He’d asked me to dinner after we spent the day together. Visions of us dancing, on the small water’s edge by the river, flashed before my eyes. I blinked at the memory. His lips twisted higher.

“I…I can’t.” It had been my initial response then; it was still my response now. I couldn’t. I shouldn’t. “I have to work.”

“Call in sick.” He smiled slowly, reaching full wattage. We were sharing the same memory. Our words were practically verbatim from that original conversation. He suddenly looked like the man I remembered. His dark eyes were playful, teasing me, and I smiled slowly in awkward remembrance. He’d offered to come to the wine bar and eat with me there. The cook made us a romantic dinner for two and we shared it in the relatively empty bar. We were celebrating our wedding. The euphoria of a pleasant memory crashed at that thought. Our wedding. We were married, but we shouldn’t be. I needed to get my signature on those divorce papers.

As if reading my mind, his body shifted, and he leaned back on the trunk of my car. His hands clutched at the sides.

“I’ll bring the papers. You can sign them then.”

“Fine.” I sounded petulant and I nodded to agree. “Where should I meet you?”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“There’s no need for that. I can find my way around town.”

“I’m certain you can but I’d still like to pick you up.” There was honesty in what he said, but I still didn’t trust him. Nonetheless, I relented.

“Fine,” I replied again, still sounding like an annoyed teenager.




I cursed myself for giving into his request. I couldn’t understand why I didn’t have the willpower to say no to him, but I didn’t. I wasn’t certain what to wear or where we were going. He told me anything would be fine and he’d pick me up at seven. Pacing my apartment, I actually jumped when the bell rang, despite anticipating its sound. Then I laughed with a nervous giggle. This wasn’t a date I scolded myself. This was a divorce. Clenching my fists, I pumped them at my sides. It was the best pep talk I could give myself.

One final inspection in the full-length mirror inside my bathroom door revealed I wore a plain red t-shirt and a floral skirt. The outfit was reminiscent of when we met. My red glasses color-coordinated with the outfit. My hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and I slipped on my flip-flops instead of heels. Heels seemed too dressy, screamed eager. I wanted to appear casual, comfortable. How often did one go on a date to sign divorce papers? I told myself. I reminded myself, again, that it wasn’t a date.

When I exited the building, Cain was waiting just outside the main door. I could see him through the etched glass as I approached; he had been pacing. Something about this made me giggle. I had to calm my nerves; I was shaking like a schoolgirl. He had something in his hand behind his back, and he waited as I cleared the front stoop.