slid a hand over hers, linking their fingers. “Come on. Let's go."
Taylor stalled. “Where to?"
"To unfinished business."
Chapter Seven
"What is it they say about best laid plans?” Taylor chuckled as they exited the building.
Row upon row of vintage and classic cars lined the street, with their owners and passersby who obviously couldn't resist the urge to view these beautifully restored cars meandering along the sidewalk. Taylor witnessed the glimmer of admiration sprint across Cade's eyes. “Go on,” she urged.
"But?"
"But nothing. They're beautiful."
Cade gave her a quick smile. He drew her towards him. “Have I told you you're beautiful, too?"
"A few minutes ago,” she said and gloried in the desire she saw mirrored in Cade's dark gaze. “But I don't mind if you say it again,” she answered truthfully, and laughed aloud, surprised and delighted to hear her laughter. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so relaxed, so joyful. Cade's mouth found hers, and she leant against him, amazed at how a mouth could feel so delicious and give so much joy as Cade's did to her.
"The cars,” she reminded him.
"Hmm, but this is yummy."
"You make me sound like chocolate."
"Yeah. Rich, caramel chocolate, the Swiss kind, the stuff that melts in your mouth. Far too good to miss."
"You won't miss it,” she said pulling back. “It's just on delayed time, that's all."
"Promise?"
"Absolutely."
"I'll hold you to that."
"I'll make sure you do,” she countered. Yep. She sure would.
Hand in hand they strolled along the sidewalk, Taylor leaning into Cade's embrace as they viewed the long line of cars. It felt so good to be with him. Normal in fact. All around them people talked, admired the cars, the atmosphere almost carnival-like.
"Oh, look. Cotton candy,” Taylor's mouth watered as she pointed towards a group of stallholders selling the bright pink confectionery along with toffee apples and hot fries. “We could call it dessert."
"And here I was thinking you were dessert,” Cade said, kissing her again.
"Do you want whipped cream with that?"
Cade let out a low belly rumble. “Don't tempt me.” He bowed regally, humor dancing across his expressive face. “Madam, dessert waits.” Leading her by the hand, they moved towards the closest stall. “Two, please."
The vendor passed over the cotton candy, and Cade paid. He held them out. “You've a choice. Pink or pink."
"Oh, pink, I think."
Hand in hand, they carried on through the crowds, Cade delighting in informing her about each vehicle, it's make and year.
"You're a mine of information, aren't you?” she said truly impressed.
"I try."
"You're succeeding."
They came up on a group huddled around two cars. Taylor couldn't hold back her sudden excitement. “I know these ones. That's a ‘55 Chevy,” she earmarked the car. “And that bike is a Triumph Bonneville, the Jaguar of bikes."
Cade's brows rose. “How do you know all this?"
"I told you, I'm a petrolhead in disguise."
"It's more than that. That year car and the bike are quite rare. What aren't you telling me, Taylor?"
A frisson of panic skittered up and down Taylor's spine. “Nothing,” she denied instantly. She pulled her arm from his and put some space between them. “You're making something out of nothing."
"No, I'm not. I bet most of the people here wouldn't know that bike, or the Chevy."
"So, I read car magazines in my spare time.” Taylor wished with all her heart Cade would drop the subject. She didn't want to dredge up memories. Rob had been too sick to tinker on his ‘48 Ford, so instead she'd sat with him for hours, reading his car magazines to him—until death caught up.
Sudden, unbidden tears pricked at Taylor's eyes.
Damn. She didn't want to cry. Not now, and certainly not in front of Cade. She brushed them away. Rob was gone, and her feelings for him were confused, a mixture of guilt and a sadness she'd made such a senseless and stupid error. Something
Taylor stalled. “Where to?"
"To unfinished business."
Chapter Seven
"What is it they say about best laid plans?” Taylor chuckled as they exited the building.
Row upon row of vintage and classic cars lined the street, with their owners and passersby who obviously couldn't resist the urge to view these beautifully restored cars meandering along the sidewalk. Taylor witnessed the glimmer of admiration sprint across Cade's eyes. “Go on,” she urged.
"But?"
"But nothing. They're beautiful."
Cade gave her a quick smile. He drew her towards him. “Have I told you you're beautiful, too?"
"A few minutes ago,” she said and gloried in the desire she saw mirrored in Cade's dark gaze. “But I don't mind if you say it again,” she answered truthfully, and laughed aloud, surprised and delighted to hear her laughter. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so relaxed, so joyful. Cade's mouth found hers, and she leant against him, amazed at how a mouth could feel so delicious and give so much joy as Cade's did to her.
"The cars,” she reminded him.
"Hmm, but this is yummy."
"You make me sound like chocolate."
"Yeah. Rich, caramel chocolate, the Swiss kind, the stuff that melts in your mouth. Far too good to miss."
"You won't miss it,” she said pulling back. “It's just on delayed time, that's all."
"Promise?"
"Absolutely."
"I'll hold you to that."
"I'll make sure you do,” she countered. Yep. She sure would.
Hand in hand they strolled along the sidewalk, Taylor leaning into Cade's embrace as they viewed the long line of cars. It felt so good to be with him. Normal in fact. All around them people talked, admired the cars, the atmosphere almost carnival-like.
"Oh, look. Cotton candy,” Taylor's mouth watered as she pointed towards a group of stallholders selling the bright pink confectionery along with toffee apples and hot fries. “We could call it dessert."
"And here I was thinking you were dessert,” Cade said, kissing her again.
"Do you want whipped cream with that?"
Cade let out a low belly rumble. “Don't tempt me.” He bowed regally, humor dancing across his expressive face. “Madam, dessert waits.” Leading her by the hand, they moved towards the closest stall. “Two, please."
The vendor passed over the cotton candy, and Cade paid. He held them out. “You've a choice. Pink or pink."
"Oh, pink, I think."
Hand in hand, they carried on through the crowds, Cade delighting in informing her about each vehicle, it's make and year.
"You're a mine of information, aren't you?” she said truly impressed.
"I try."
"You're succeeding."
They came up on a group huddled around two cars. Taylor couldn't hold back her sudden excitement. “I know these ones. That's a ‘55 Chevy,” she earmarked the car. “And that bike is a Triumph Bonneville, the Jaguar of bikes."
Cade's brows rose. “How do you know all this?"
"I told you, I'm a petrolhead in disguise."
"It's more than that. That year car and the bike are quite rare. What aren't you telling me, Taylor?"
A frisson of panic skittered up and down Taylor's spine. “Nothing,” she denied instantly. She pulled her arm from his and put some space between them. “You're making something out of nothing."
"No, I'm not. I bet most of the people here wouldn't know that bike, or the Chevy."
"So, I read car magazines in my spare time.” Taylor wished with all her heart Cade would drop the subject. She didn't want to dredge up memories. Rob had been too sick to tinker on his ‘48 Ford, so instead she'd sat with him for hours, reading his car magazines to him—until death caught up.
Sudden, unbidden tears pricked at Taylor's eyes.
Damn. She didn't want to cry. Not now, and certainly not in front of Cade. She brushed them away. Rob was gone, and her feelings for him were confused, a mixture of guilt and a sadness she'd made such a senseless and stupid error. Something
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