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“You’re a dear boy,” Louise informs me. “That would be lovely.” After making the necessary arrangements and speaking with the agent who promises to get everything written up and the paperwork to us as soon as possible, I thank them again before leaving.
**Rooney**
Caden walks in and takes me into his arms, leading us throughout the penthouse in a waltz. At least that’s what I think it is, it’s not like I’ve had any experience in formal dancing.
“You’re certainly in a good mood,” I say with a giggle as he twirls me around. Boomer is following our route, executing his own version of a dance despite the limp.
“Who wouldn’t be? I have the most beautiful woman in the world in my arms and life, one that’s having my baby, and a dog that stole my heart.” He executes a few more turns before dipping me, planting a hard kiss on my lips as he brings me back up.
“Well, when you put it that way,” I answer playfully, loving this side of him as much as the serious one, “you are a very lucky man.”
He asks about my day, and I tell him how much fun I had with Peyton and Reese. “We talked about the wedding, my job and hers, you,” I add, trying not to snort as he frowns.
“Whatever she said is a lie. She’s out to get me, always has been,” he informs me. “You can’t trust her. Peyton is wiley.” Caden can’t even finish without smirking. He adores Peyton and vice versa. She thinks her big brother hung the moon and Reese is in awe of his uncle.
“What’d you do today?”
“Good news or bad first?”
“Man, that is never the answer people want to hear.” I think about it, wondering which way to go, but I need more info first. “Is it bad bad and I’ll need the good to help me cope?”
When he nods, I groan. What could be that bad? Shit. “Your mother?” Another nod. “Hit me. Make it quick before I change my mind.”
“We’ve been summoned to dinner at the estate.”
“There’s so many things wrong with that sentence. First, summoned? Like she’s royalty and we’re her loyal subjects? Second, the estate? Are you freakin’ kidding me or is the house that pretentious?” I know I probably shouldn’t use that term regarding his childhood home, but something tells me it’s the perfect description and it never felt like a home to him. “Third, we or you and I’m tagging along?”
“Sounds about right as she views everyone as being beneath her. No, sadly, I’m not. That is how she refers to it and yes, it is highly pretentious, which is what she lives for. And it was for me, but you and I both know you’re included; she’s just playing games. Besides, I would never go without you.”
“Feel free to; it won’t hurt my feelings at all. In fact, I’ll love you even more for it,” I tell him with the straightest face I can make.
He laughs, jerk, before giving me a swat on my ass. “You’re a sexy little imp.
“Give me the good news before I pull a runner,” I plead, getting a harder smack on the other cheek. He growls at my threat, not that I really mean it, but maybe I shouldn’t have joked about that with our history. “Too soon?”
I take a step back, then another and another, Caden matching each until I hit the wall, his body caging mine in, his grin turning almost feral. “You really wanna pull at that thread, rainbow? I’m not sure you got the punishment you deserved for leaving me.”
Why the hell are his words turning me on? I’m a modern independent woman used to depending on myself, but the thought of what he might do to me has my thighs quivering with need. “Do it,” I beg, wanting this to happen more than anything right now. Caden’s eyes heat and his nostrils flare as he presses against me, his hard cock between us. I start rolling my hips, caressing him the only way I can since he has my hands bound by one of his above my head on the wall.
He leans forward, his mouth nearing mine, but he doesn’t do the expected, instead going for my neck, nibbling downward, following the curve of my collarbone to my throat and continuing until he reaches the top of my breasts. My tank top gives easily under his chin as he pushes it down, his groan reaching my ears as he realizes I’ve already removed my bra. I don’t know what woman doesn’t rip that thing off the second she gets home.
“Is this body mine to do anything I want to it?” He asks, his voice so deep it can’t possibly be measured. I shiver as it rolls over me, his chuckle telling me he saw my reaction and relishes in what he does to me. I nod because it is, I can’t and won’t deny it, but he needs my answer verbally. “Say it, Rooney. Tell me it’s mine,” he demands, and I instinctively submit.
“It’s yours, Caden. Do your worst,” I taunt.
“Oh baby, you’ll always get nothing but my best.” With his mouth hovering in front of my breast, he informs me, “Leave your hands where I put them,” then his tongue circles my nipple, never touching where I want him to.
“Caden,” I moan, needing more. When I think he’s gonna give it to me, he switches sides, repeating the same torture around it. As I’m really considering begging, he bites down, the pressure just enough to make me flood my panties. He spends so much time on both until they’re red and sensitive from his ministrations and I could come from that alone. But he stops, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake as he works his way toward my pussy. If it could talk, it’d be screaming for joy right now, knowing what’s to come. I can’t help but mentally giggle at that pun, but it stops the second he presses his mouth above my mound, his tongue sneaking out to lick every inch of skin before dipping down. He gently loves my clit, easing me toward a climax, one he keeps denying me, then moves to the side, licking the crease where my thighs frame my center. When he nips one of my labia, I whimper at the contact, forcing my hands to where they are instead of diving into his hair where they yearn to be.
I feel his fingers spread my lips as he swipes up then down, ending with his tongue spearing inside me, my cream that had already gathered coating it. “Don’t you dare come, woman,” he warns. “That’s your punishment. You don’t get your release until I allow it.” Caden looks up after delivering that news, his dark head between my legs, my juices leaving a light sheen on his lips, “That’s your punishment for leaving me that day, and for joking about it now. I thought I’d lost you forever and you make light of it?” And now I feel bad. My sense of humor, and that of my moms’ has always been different than others, our motto being you either laugh or you cry, but I never wanted to hurt Caden…again.
“I’m sorry, Caden.”
“Why? Are you saying that due to needing to come? Or because you hurt me?”
“Both,” I answer honestly, “but more so that I caused you pain. I never want to be the reason you’re sad or hurting. I only want to bring you love and happiness.”
“As long as you’re mine, and I’m yours, you give me each. I’m lost without you, Rooney. My world would be dark and lonely, my heart empty, and my arms aching with the need to hold you.” Tears falling silently, and for a second, I wonder how they’ve landed on his cheeks when I realize they aren’t mine. He too feels so much in this moment that he can’t contain it and the thought of not having me is leaving a trail of the pain he’d feel in its wake.
Rising, he slides his mouth against mine, the kiss remaining gentle and going on until neither of us can continue without first taking a breath. “I’m sorry, Caden. I truly am.” I need him to know this, that if I could, I would change so much about that day, but never the fact that I met and fell in love with him, or that we created a child together.
“The only thing I would change is that I’d wake with you in my arms,” he says, his eyes boring into mine, and it’s then I realize I said all that out loud, “and rush you to a justice of the peace to tie you to me forever.”
“Make love to me, my soon-to-be-husband?” I whisper against his lips and when he responds with the word yes, I swear I can taste eternity in it.
Leaving our clothes behind, Caden takes my hand, leading me toward our bedroom. I like that he isn’t carrying me this time,
as he’s prone to, because I want him to know I’ll follow him anywhere. Plus, watching his muscles clench as he walks is like seeing poetry in motion.
Closing the door, he backs me toward the bed until my knees hit the mattress and I land in the middle, his body hovering over mine as he follows me. His lips are an inch from mine, his words of love the only thing between us.
“Put me in, rainbow,” he tells me before kissing me. Obeying as we both want the same thing, and I’m unable to resist when he says things in that sexy and demanding tone, I grip him, feeling the hiss escape him. Naughtiness is calling me, the lure of teasing him impossible to resist, and I drag the tip back and forth across my clit, sometimes dipping downward so he slips inside. As he groans, believing I’m about to take him, I pull him out again, then repeat the process until I feel his arms shaking on either side of my head.
“Looks like you’re being punished now, Mr. Howell,” I say with a smirk, knowing I’m poking the beast and loving it.
With a growl and particularly hard bite to my nipple, where he’d landed as I was having my own fun, he flips us, his strength turning me on. I don’t hesitate to start rocking, moving my hips to my own rhythm, Caden easily matching it. He lets me use him to take my pleasure, twice, and as I collapse, the feel of his chest hair soft beneath my cheek, he runs his hand down my back. As aftershocks hit, he grips my ass and holds me still as he thrusts up, each harder and deeper than the last, until I feel him splash inside me, the heat from his seed causing a mini-climax to roll through me.
Later, after enjoying another round, one more frantic, we’re laying there, and I realize we never finished our discussion. Knowing I can’t get any more relaxed than I am right now, which means I should take advantage of it and hear the rest of the bad news, I ask for the details. Caden groans at the reminder.
“Woman, I’d forgotten all about it. Why’d you have to put it back in my head?” I laugh, liking that he’s just as reluctant to go as I am. I should feel bad about that considering it is his parents, but they have no one to blame but themselves for his view on them. “My mother had Estelle add it to my calendar and reschedule any meetings that may interfere, which I’m sure she loved doing,” he adds sarcastically. “I looked it over before coming up. Dinner starts at seven, which means promptly at seven, not a minute before, not a minute later. It is formal.”
“I’m sure I have nothing suitable to wear. At least, not in your mother’s eyes.”
“Who gives a fuck what she thinks,” Caden says angrily, his words nowhere near a question, more a statement of fact.
“Be that as it may, I do need to find something. My usual clothes are casual, no call for formal gowns or fancy dinner dresses while cleaning litter boxes or playing with dogs.” And I’m fine with that. I don’t need them to make me feel whole. My work, the animals I help, and now Caden and our child, do.
“We’ll go shopping tomorrow then. The night will be uncomfortable enough, clothes you’re happy wearing will help alleviate some of that.”
“Don’t you have to work?”
“Perk of being my own boss,” he informs me. As I watch him, knowing he isn’t the type to take advantage of his position, he shrugs, a smile curving his lips as he admits, “And, before you, I was a workaholic for years.”
I nod because yeah, that makes more sense, though it does make me sad thinking about him in his office all those hours, life passing him by. Then again, considering that left no time for women, of whom I’m sure many would’ve jumped at the chance for a man like him, I feel guilty for being just a little happy about the fact too. Bad, Rooney. Bad. “Shopping it is, though I hope you don’t regret it,” I tease, knowing full well I’m the type to want to get through it as quickly.
“Getting to spend time with you? I could be at the dentist getting a root canal and still be happy as long as you were there.” Okay, that’s specific, and his expression means he just realizes what he said, and he starts laughing. “Can we forget I said that?”
“No way. I’ve never had anyone say they don’t mind dental work if I’m there. That’s the sweetest thing.” When I bat my lashes at him, acting like I’m swooning, we both laugh so hard we have trouble breathing.
When we calm down again, he asks, “You ready for the good news?” At my nod, he tells me, “That house we put the offer on?” Staring at him, almost bouncing in anticipation, he takes pity on me and tells me we got it. Shocked doesn’t begin to cover it, but then he explains where he was earlier and that the couple know of me and how, and I instantly remember Bethany.
“The woman they told you about? She’s who I saw the day we met. Bethany and Polly were perfect for each other. I could see it as soon as they met. Polly had been a little shy, but she instantly jumped in Bethany’s lap when she sat on the couch. It was love at first sight.” Sometimes, I really like how small the world can seem. “When can we move in?” I ask, ready to get the heck out of this hotel. It’s nice and all, but it’s just not me. Nor do I think it’s Caden either, but more of a it was convenient at the time situation.
“This weekend. Which reminds me,” he reaches over and grabs his cell off the nightstand, where we’d put his and mine after a quick run to the kitchen for a snack earlier, and types something before setting it down again. He sees my curiosity and explains that he offered to take care of the movers for them, assuring me they were more than fine with relocating sooner.
“Will we have a hard time getting the necessary permits for the sanctuary with what’s going on?” He assures me he’s been talking to his lawyer and has his PI looking into the so-called complaints. Though, and it may just be me, but he doesn’t seem too keen on the latter, which adds to my worries. But I trust Caden and I know he’ll do whatever he can to help.
Spending the rest of the evening eating, taking Boomer out, and having more fun in bed, we decide what furniture of mine we’d like to keep, what we still need, etc. With things in the works and ideas for the rest, we call it a night, Caden behind me with his palm cupping our baby.
Chapter Ten
Caden
June 27th…
Rooney looks beautiful in her dress. She went with a bright red, my woman too vibrant to wear a dull color, and her hair is swept to the side, highlighting the neck I love taking bites of, to cover the marks I left on her this morning. But that’ll just be our secret.
Boomer is with Mary and Dani. He feels comfortable with them as Rooney sees them quite often. Plus, her moms are on a mission to help outfit our new house. With how loving her parents are, the complete opposite of mine, I’m definitely getting the better deal on in-laws.
“There’s no need to be nervous,” I assure her.
“Is there where you try to say with a straight face your mother will love me?” She asks, and I’m glad to see her personality peeking through. She was quiet as we got ready and I know she’s dreading this, going solely for me. At least Peyton and Reese will be there so she’ll know more than just me.
“Sweetheart, I can’t even claim she loves me, so…” I say matter-of-fact, no hurt feelings in it. It’s a truth I’ve accepted. Do I like it? No. But nothing will change that so why act as if it will?
“Well, I love you, and are son or daughter will too,” she tells me sincerely. I don’t even bother trying to hide the sheen probably visible in my eyes thanks to the light above us.
Leaning forward, dropping the gentlest of kisses on her lips, one that speaks for itself, but I still give her the words. “I love you and our baby more than anything else in this world.” Shortly after that, the door opens and a lovely woman with a sweet face and beautiful gray hair instantly gives me a hug when she sees it’s me. “Erma.” Erma essentially raised Peyton and I, being the mother we’d always wished we’d had. “This,” I tell her, entwining my hand with Rooney’s, “is my fiancée, Rooney.”
Erma immediately wraps Rooney in a hug, then apologizes in advance for my parents. Rooney laughs, telling Erma she and my mother have met, and t
hat she can take her.
“Oh, I like her,” Erma says, giving Rooney another squeeze, one of solidarity.
“We’re getting married next month, so where should we send your invitation?” Rooney asks her.
I assure Rooney I have the address and have already added Erma and her husband, Roscoe, to the list, then we enter, and I’m surprised I don’t hear ominous music, like when a scary part is nearing in a horror movie. Melodramatic? Sure. Doesn’t mean it isn’t fitting.
Reese rushes toward us, wrapping his arms around my legs then Rooney’s, Peyton following with an indulgent smile on her face as she hugs us. “The sharks are circling,” she teases with a laugh and roll of her eyes.
If only we’d heeded her warning…
“Thomas,” mother says when she sees me, unable to miss Rooney against my side as my arm is holding her there, “there’s someone I want you to meet. I was hoping you’d get to know each other over dinner.” Rooney tenses, which my mother notices, her smile turning triumphant.
“My fiancée and I may not be staying long,” I tell her, not feeling an ounce of guilt for her finding out I’m engaged this way.
Never one to back down, she comes back with, “How nice,” her tone saying it’s anything but. “There’s still plenty of time then,” and Rooney and I both know she isn’t referring to tonight. She sees the fact we aren’t married yet as her chance to make sure it doesn’t happen at all. “Bianca, dear,” she calls out to a woman off to the side, the expression on her face and her body language broadcasting how uncomfortable she is. “Thomas, this is Bianca. Bianca, my son, Thomas. She’s currently putting herself through school for her master’s.” The last is said with a pointed glance at Rooney, as if she can’t even hope to compete. What she doesn’t understand is my rainbow never has to.