Dear Dork,
You cannot imagine the smell of five guys who have not showered in a week. Holy shit. We call it the FAN smell. Feet, Ass, and Nuts. I think they should add armpits, too. The smell of Lewis’ should come with its own biohazard warning. #youthoughtmygymclotheswerebad #jesshasnttextedme #doesshehaveaboyfriend?
Your big bro.
After a thorough scouring of the pantry, I’ve decided that there just isn’t enough food in here to make another meal. It’s been three days since Anniston and Theo left on their honeymoon and I didn’t think to ask Anniston about how I was supposed to get groceries. It’s not like I do this all the time—being a personal chef to five Marines—to have some sort of procedure down pat. So as much as it pains me to do so, I’m going to have to ask him.
I frown a little as I pass by Tim who is adjusting something on the screen door. “Do you know where Cade is?” I ask him hesitantly. Tim doesn’t turn from the door.
And then it occurs to me. I’m such a dumbass.
Tim doesn’t hear well, and for the most part, only reads lips. But he speaks, albeit brokenly, which confuses me on how long his hearing loss has been an issue. Getting closer, I place a hand on his shoulder and grab his attention. He turns from his work on the hinge and graces me with a brilliant, toothy smile. With slow enunciation I ask again, “Do you know where Cade is?”
Tim points to the room next to the stairs. Cade’s office.
“Oh.” I eye the door like some kind of serial killer waits behind it. Damn it. Why couldn’t he have been in the gym or something?
Tim chuckles and stands. He turns me around to face the door and then he whispers ever so lightly in my ear, “You’ll be fine.”
I’m already shaking my head when he pushes me toward the door and knocks twice for me. “I wasn’t ready!” I whisper, but he’s already heading back to his post.
So much for his support.
“I’m busy,” comes the response to the knock.
Great. Cade’s in a fantastic mood. This should go over beautifully.
“I’m sorry. I just have one question,” I say to the still closed door. Something crashes in his office and I take a step back just in case I need a head start to run.
A burst of air rushes from the door as Cade swings it open with force. “What?”
Did he fucking growl at me?
I blink.
One. Two. Three times before I respond to his rude remark. A muscle in his jaw twitches as he waits me out. “Um …”
His brow cocks up and I know, without a doubt, I am annoying the shit out of him. “Um …” he repeats, almost like he’s insulting me.
This asshole.
“We need groceries,” I tell him, looking down at his bare feet. That’s interesting.
“And?” He prompts me for more of an explanation instead of the crystal clear one I just gave him.
“And … Anniston said to ask you when I needed something for the meals.”
Cade sighs and turns on his bare heel, heading back into his office without answering me. This motherfu—
“I need a half hour and then we’ll go.”
We’ll go?
I thought maybe he would ask for a list or give Tim the card to take me. “I hate to disturb you. Can Tim take me?”
Cade looks up from his desk after picking something up off the floor—a paperweight—and levels me with a look that I feel certain brings grown men to their knees. “I said” —he grits out with a nasty frown on his face—“that I needed half an hour. Since I’ve had to repeat myself, I need an additional three minutes.”
His words feel like a slap to the face. Instead of throwing my flip-flop at him, I opt for a more mature route and slam his office door closed, muttering, “You can take those thirty-three minutes and shove ‘em, dick.”
I’m feeling pretty euphoric when the door swings open and Major-Pain-in-My-Ass stands there, a beautiful angry God, his big hand clutching the doorframe. “Get in here. Now!”
His tone only scares me slightly.
I look to Tim. His eyes are wide with shock. Not a good sign.
“Why?”
Both of Cade’s eyebrows climb his forehead in disbelief at my backtalk. What did he think, I was just going to say, “Yes, sir?”
Cade and I stay locked in an epic staredown until he lunges for me, snagging me by the upper part of my arm. I cry out. He’s not hurting me, just scaring the shit out of me. Cade pushes me inside his darkened office and points to a chair. “Sit.”
I hope he sees my what-the-fuck expression and interprets it appropriately.
He must, because he sighs, and then amends his demand with, “Please.”
Since his southern accent makes my nipples tingle, I sit down, but not without huffing so he knows it killed me to do so.
Cade takes a seat behind his desk and gets back to internet shopping or whatever he’s doing on his laptop. Am I really just going to sit here until he’s finished? All because he’s mad at hearing me tell him to shove his thirty-three minutes?
Give me a break.
“Can I go now?” I ask and then lean over to pick up a piece of paper on his desk, inspecting it.
He snatches the paper from my grip. “No, you can’t.”
This is bullshit right here.
“I’m sorry, okay? You pissed me off and I shouldn’t have told you where to shove your timeframe.” I try for respectful and businesslike.
His lip twitches.
“I promise, I’ll mind my tongue when I’m in front of the guys.” If I wasn’t staring at him so hard I would have missed the almost smile he nearly lets get away from him. “Major Jameson.”
That gets his attention. He leans back in his chair, his eyes dilated with something I can’t place. “Since you insist on talking and distracting me, why don’t you pull your chair over here and help me so I can take you to the store faster?”
“Help you with what? I know nothing about the military.” A lie. The six-foot-something gorgeous specimen of a man gets up and pulls my chair—with me in it—next to his, leaving tracks in the rug.
“You went to college, right?” I nod cautiously as he turns the laptop to face me. “Help me understand the concept of Macroeconomics.” He tugs at his dark locks and literally collapses on the desk. “I’m trying to obtain my Master’s Degree and I can’t seem to grasp the subtleties of economics,” he mutters, not looking at me at all.
I pick up the computer and place it in my lap. “I don’t know how much I’ll know. I only have a bachelor’s degree in culinary arts, but I can try and help you,” I offer.
Relieved is not the word I would use to describe what Cade looks like as he scoots his chair closer to mine. Fucking ecstatic is how I interpret the smile when he breathes out, “Thank you.”
We take over an hour to figure out the gibberish that is economics, but we get his work completed for the day and now we’re driving into town for the groceries I need. The list I wrote out is clutched in my hand, and I pray the sweat doesn’t make the ink bleed. That’s all I need is to not know what the hell I came to the store for after making such a stink about it.
Cade has yet to speak again other than telling me to put my seatbelt on. The country music he has turned up loud is a clear indicator he doesn’t want me to talk. Whatever. He can sit over there and brood. I’m going to act like his attitude doesn’t bother me even if it’s killing me inside.
Why doesn’t he like me?
Why doesn’t he want to talk or get to know me?
The other guys have no problem cutting up with me, but not Cade. He’s been standoffish since I arrived. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Helping him is a moot point since Anniston already has. I don’t even know why I’m still here and not back in New York with Jess.
I’m still broke.
I work for a room in Sue’s house.
I’m not a chef at a five-star restaurant like I had planned.
I’m nothing.
I’m just a girl who thought she was doing the right thing for someone and now her pride won’t allow her to go back home and admit defeat. Or maybe, I kind of like it here. The scenery is hot at least.
“We’re here,” Cade says in a low voice, pulling me from my minor meltdown in the passenger seat of his truck. Unclipping my seatbelt, I thank him for driving and reach for the handle. “Wait,” he says, opening his door first. I look around at the full parking lot and notice nothing out of the ordinary that would require me to wait in the truck. But then Cade comes around to the passenger side and opens my door for me.
Why God?
Why must I be attracted to this man that wants nothing to do with me?
Cade waits patiently as I slide off the seat. I stand in front of him, awaiting further instructions. He doesn’t disappoint. “Walk to the inside of me.” He pulls me to his right side and then lets go of me just as quickly as he grabbed me.
We walk through the parking lot before curiosity gets the better of me. “Why do I have to walk on the inside?”
I look up just in time to see him roll his eyes. He remains mute on the subject and I finally just can’t take it anymore. I draw to a stop and go around him to his left side. Cade looks shocked for a moment but he yanks me across his front, placing me back at his right side. This time, securing me with his hand around my wrist.
Sighing, I let him pull me towards the front of the store, but then he shocks the hell out of me by answering my question. “I don’t want you getting run over by the idiots charging through the parking lot.”
I make a show of looking around for the said speed racers before I ask another question and get another eyeroll. “What if they back over me?”
“They won’t back over you.”
“How do you know?”
Cade pulls to a stop and rakes a frustrated hand through his hair. “I won’t let them back over you. Now, please stop asking me so many questions.”
My heart tripled its beats.
Did Cade Jameson just admit that he would protect me and not let a car back over me?
He sure did.
And for that reason, I make a zipping motion against my lips, offering him my silence for the rest of the walk into the store.
He rolls his eyes again.
The local market in Madison is super small. Like really, really small, maybe about ten aisles total. Getting everything you need generally comes from visiting several stores within the county, but to keep Major Grumpy happy, I’m going to substitute where I can so I don’t have to ask to go to another store.
We split up, Cade taking the cart since he said he needed to get bottled drinks. I weave through the crowded market and grab as many things as I can, folding up my t-shirt and using it as a bag. When I can’t possibly hold anything else without flashing my boobs from the weighted groceries, I seek out Cade to empty my finds into his cart.
I spot his big head easily since he is by far the biggest man in the entire store. He’s towering over the produce section, some girl giggling with her hand on his chest. Pausing, I watch the scene unfold a little more before I approach them. The last thing I want to do is interrupt homegirl’s game and ruin Cade’s potential booty call, but then Cade flinches and his entire body goes rigid. Whatever the girl just said, she made him uncomfortable.
Damn it.
What am I supposed to do?
Does he want me to help him?
Or do I go back to the cereal aisle and pretend I didn’t see them?
Fuck, I can’t leave him like that.
I start toward him, a million questions running through my head. What if he barks at me and embarrasses me for interrupting him?
The girl talking to Cade runs her fingers through his hair, and the look on his face breaks my fucking heart. I know exactly what I need to do.
I saw Theo do it at the wedding.
I have to get this girl away from him.
Pronto.
I hurry toward Cade, but before I reach them, I say loudly, grabbing their attention, “Babe. They didn’t have that low-fat crap you wanted, but I figured you could splurge. A little fat won’t kill you.”
I reach them and dump all the stuff from my shirt into Cade’s cart. Then I turn and wedge myself right up next to him, looping an arm around his waist, staking my claim. His body is unforgiving with all the hard muscles against my … well, not so hard muscles. No love handles on this man.
He’s so solid.
He’s … stiff.
I realize my proximity has made Cade uncomfortable so I take a step back.
Oops. I was so worried about the crazy girl in front of him that I forgot about the crazy girl inside me.
I offer an awkward smile, and after a couple of seconds, Cade reaches around and pulls me closer to his side. “I think I can indulge you tonight,” he returns after a beat, shocking the shit out of me.
I try not to swoon over the fact he’s playing along. The way he said indulge felt more like an innuendo instead of calorie counts but I know he didn’t mean it. This is all a ruse, but it puts a stupid smile on my face when I glace up at the chick hitting on my major.
“Hi,” I say with fake cheer before standing on my tippy toes and speaking loud enough so dumb-dumb gets the message. “Since we’re indulging, did you want wine with dinner?”
Cade grins and nods his head slowly. “Nothing dry. I’m in the mood for something sweet tonight.”
I return his knowing smile and squeeze his side. And bless the dumbass hitting on him because he fucking squeezes me back.
“It was good seeing you, Samantha,” he says, taking a step back. I play along and send Samantha on her way with a cocky grin of my own.
She smiles at Cade, confusion clear on her face. “You too, Cade.” Then she scampers off without a backwards glance, and I let go of Cade quickly.
“Uh …” I take a step back. “I still have a few more things to get.”
He nods. “I’ll come with you.”
We finish shopping and check out with a cart full of groceries. Cade never thanks me or even acknowledges what we did in front of Samantha back in the produce section. Instead, he loads the bags into the cart and tells me to put my feet on the bottom rack. Then, he jogs down the parking lot before jumping on behind me, sandwiching me between his hard chest and the cart’s handle. We race down the rows of cars, and it’s so exhilarating that I throw my hands up like I’m on some kind of roller coaster.
And the craziest thing happens.
Cade laughs.
And it’s the most precious sound in the entire world.
“I’m ready to go upstairs.” His gruff admission pulls my attention from the notebook resting on my lap. I was almost finished with the new X-Men review before he interrupted me.
I set the pencil down in the spine and feel myself smile at him for saying goodnight. Maybe he is warming up to me after all. But when I get a good look at his face in the glow of the porch light, he’s frowning. Frowning isn’t necessarily a bad sign with Cade. He tends to do it a lot. I like to call it his lazy smile.
“Okay, goodnight,” I respond cheerfully, hoping he’ll grace me with a real smile.
It doesn’t work.
He huffs out a breath instead and turns to face the backyard so I can’t see his face any longer. “No. I mean, I want to go upstairs but I can’t until you’re inside, and I’ve locked up.”
Oh.
He wasn’t just being nice and telling me goodnight. I pick up my pencil, slightly disappointed that he wasn’t being sweet, and go back to my review. “Oh,” I say, focused on my sloppy handwriting. “I’ll lock up. I want to finish this review, and it’s peaceful out here.”
I take a peek at Cade. His head hangs low in defeat. When he says nothing, I go back to writing and try my best to ignore that he’s pouting at the edge of the patio.
A noise, almost a groan, snaps my head up as I catch Cade raking a hand through his hair. I watch as he takes several deep breaths and turns, facing me with that fucking frown again. Without a word, and six—yes, I count—sighs later, he comes over, grabbing the lounger beside me and pulling it a few feet away, throwing himself down into it.
“Are you planning to wait on me?”
Cade leans back in the chair and looks up at the stars above. “Yes.”
Okay. That’s not what I was expecting.
“You don’t have to wait. I promise, I know how to lock a door.”
“Finish your review, B.”
He called me B. Does calling someone by a nickname mean they are getting comfortable around you?
I’m going with yes.
The grin I’m donning is brighter than the stars he’s staring at but I keep my head down and focus on this review so Jess doesn’t cuss me out in the morning for not having it ready.
Mystique, although misguided in this film, delivers, once again, a flawless performance of how women superheroes are stealing the spotlight away from their male counterparts.
“What movie are you reviewing?”
Oh, hell. He’s making small talk with me. I can do this. We can do this. It’s just talking. Who cares if it’s awkward?
“X-Men: Days of Future Past.”
Silence.
Men are taking the roles as sidekicks to these exceptional women—
“What did you think of it?”
“I … uh.” I set my pencil down and close my notebook, clearing my throat. “I loved it. I’m digging the women superheroes these days. It’s very refreshing.” Cade tips his chin at the stars like they answered instead of me. “What about you? Do you like superhero movies?”
He snorts. “No.”
He doesn’t elaborate on his statement and the silence feels constricting. “Oh,” is all I manage to get out.
Cade sighs and his chair creaks beneath his weight. “Heroes don’t exist. No one is selfless. Everyone lies and everyone takes. I find watching inaccurate portrayals of heroes annoying.”
I swallow down the pain and disappointment that rises from deep within me. Cade has no hope. No faith that people are good and honest. How can he feel that way? He’s a hero.
“I like the idea of hope,” I confess quietly. “That when all feels lost, someone is out there for you, waiting to pick you up and fight your wars.”
Cade’s head whips around and he sits up straight, turning sideways in his chair to look at me. “You live in a fantasy,” he grits out, his eyes turning cold and dark under the moon.
I shrug. “It’s better than living in hell.”
Cade stands, his chair sliding back. “Let’s go. You’re obviously done, and I’m tired.”
In the three days I’ve been staying here, I’ve yet to see him retire before midnight, but his glare and the twitch of his cheek tells me he’s not asking my opinion. I’ve hit a nerve, and he wants the hell away from me, but a true hero looks after his people even when he doesn’t want to. Like, making sure they are behind locked doors before he can rest.
I ease off my chair, tucking my notebook under my arm.
“Goodnight, Major Jameson.”
When I’m through the door, he stops me. “B?”
I turn around, a stupid smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah?”
Cade’s frown turns up at the corners and a slow smile takes its place instead. I find myself grinning back at him until he scratches at his cheek like he’s a little nervous.
I’ve finally made progress with him. Internally I fist bump myself until he says, “Can I offer you a ride home?”
He chuckles as if it’s almost a joke at this point.
Fucker.
My eyes roll as far as they can without looking like the exorcist. I straighten up, turn on my heel, and walk through the door.
And lock it.
It’s the first time I’ve seen Major Jameson look thoroughly shocked. His mouth falls open and his eyes go wide before he rushes the door, checking the handle.
“Open the door,” he says with an air of authority.
I give him a one-finger wave, blow him a kiss, and return, “Goodnight, Major,” before heading up the stairs to my room.
One of the guys can let Mr. Annoying in.