Paradise Found: Cain (Paradise #2)(78)

My ankles were crossed behind his back as he thrust forward, driving into me words that weren’t being said. I was lost in the moment, like I constantly was around him. I came fast, and he followed with a force so fierce, he pulled me off the counter. I would have fallen without his strength to support me as we continued to remain connected. He dropped us down to the kitchen floor, where we lay replete and breathing heavily.

“What was that?” I questioned, rolling my head to look at him, as he lay half draped over me.

“I missed you today,” he answered, his voice muffled in my neck. His words tickled and I laughed softly. Picking up his head quickly, he looked down at me.

“That is one of the most beautiful sounds,” he said sincerely. “I want to capture that laughter and carry it with me everywhere.”

My eyebrows pinched and my face softened. He was incredibly sweet and his compliment warmed me. Reaching up for his face, I brushed my hand over his cheek. He leaned into my palm, as he had done before and kissed it, holding his lips there for a moment longer than necessary.

“I love you,” he mumbled into my hand, closing his eyes as if the words were too painful or too precious to share.

“I love you, too,” I said, forcing him to look at me. “What’s going on?” There was something wrong. While my back was cold on the tile floor, the fear that was seeping into me was colder.

“I saw Abel today.”

“Cain,” I stared at him, “you didn’t ask him to fight you? Not for me?”

His gaze back at me was full of surprise.

“Of course, I asked him, and of course, he said yes.” He rose on an elbow to glare down at me. Being on my back on the kitchen floor was growing uncomfortable, for more than one reason.

“Cain, this is ridiculous. You can’t keep fighting your brother.”

His hand came to my jaw, and he held my chin.

“I’d fight anyone for you. Brother or not. I’ll fight for my wife.”

I attempted to shake my head, but he was holding me fast to stare into my eyes. His mouth descended on mine again, in the same frantic way he entered the kitchen. It was as if he was afraid he would lose me. As if he needed assurance that I was real.

“This isn’t about you, though. You know that, right? This is about Abel and me. This is about control. My father wants it over us. He just can’t let us be happy. He doesn’t even know what happiness is.”

It took a moment for the question to form, but once it came to my mind, I couldn’t hold it inside.

“Are you happy?” I blurted. He blinked at me as if I’d slapped him. Not hard, just as a wake up.

“Jesus, Sofie, of course, I’m happy. I ... I don’t even think I knew what happiness was until I met you.”

“Why?”

“Because all my life my father made certain I wasn’t happy. He beat it out of me. Then he beat it into me. Work hard; be better. Be happy.”

I smiled at him because he wasn’t really answering the question I had asked.

“I mean, why are you happy with me?”

His eyebrows pinched and he wiped a hand down his face in frustration.

“Because the way you look at me makes me feel … good. Like I’m good. Like I’m good for you. And I know you’re too good for me. You’re beautiful, smart, loving. You’re everything I’m not, but wish to be.”

Frustration hit me next.

“You,” I laughed mockingly. “You’re so striking; it’s blinding. You’re smarter than you give yourself credit. And you love more than anyone. You’ve taken everything for Abel. You provide for Evie. You handle Kursch. Even your father. In your own way, you love him while you hate him.”

Whatever I said, it was too much. He pushed up off the floor and pulled up his track pants. I sat up slowly, and he reached down for me. I straightened my clothes before allowing him to help me stand.

“And me,” I added to drive the matter home. “You love me; the quiet, shy, good girl, who never would have attracted you in a million years. You love me.” I had to have the last word, and I walked out of the kitchen leaving him to ponder what I said.




I was shy after our kitchen acrobats and disagreement, but I made us dinner and we ate at the kitchen counter, near where he’d consummated his desire for me. We remained quiet, until Cain purposely dropped his fork, which made me flinch.

“I noticed you were cutting that apple funny the other night,” he said out of nowhere.

“Funny?” I questioned.

“Yeah, in half, sideways. Not the long way from top to bottom.”

“Oh, well, there’s a star in the middle,” I answered nonchalantly.

“A star?”

I stood and took an apple from the counter, cut it in half and presented it to him.

“See. A star. Make a wish, I guess.” I wasn’t certain what the significance of the star in the apple meant.

Later that night, I was studying on his bed. Our bed, I had to keep reminding myself. Cain said he had a phone call to make, and the heated discussion coming from his office lead me to believe it would be a while. He entered our room with something tucked behind his back. Kneeling on the bed, he crawled to me. My books began to jumble and one tumbled off the duvet. I ignored them as he slinked toward me, that predatory look on his face, that hypnotizing gleam to his eyes. He presented me an apple.