“I can’t believe you’re doing the dirty with your boss!” Melissa shouted.
“I can hear you, you know. We might be half a country apart, but the technology of cellular devices is actually quite good.”
She laughed, muffling the loud music she had on in the background—a telltale sign of stress studying. Whenever finals were near, Melissa would crank up whatever happened to be her favorite band of the month and hole herself in her room to study for hours on end. Her dedication to her studies was always my biggest annoyance in our friendship.
That, and the harm it did to my eardrums.
“So, is it good?”
“Is what good?” I asked, swishing water around with my toes, as I leaned back in the bath, letting the warmth ease the stiffness in my tired muscles.
“The sex, Cara. Is it good?” she said, like it was the most obvious question in the world.
In all the years we’d been together, she’d actually never asked me about my sex life. I’d always assumed she didn’t want to know.
Hers? An open book.
I knew every position she and Jeremy had tried, every place they’d done it, including the bleachers during a home football game—which, according to her, wasn’t as epic as everyone had described it to be. Lots of trash, lots of noise, and it had ended before she’d even had the chance to feel even the slightest bit daring.
But Tyler and me, she’d never asked. Maybe she’d always assumed we were already like an old married couple—boring and settled.
Looking back, it wasn’t far from the truth. We’d never had those moments of passion where we couldn’t hold back, ripping each other’s clothes away or sneaking into hidden places just to steal a precious few moments.
I’d made him wait four years. And, by the time we’d finally taken that step, it was almost a nonevent. I’d held out, hoping it would only double the anticipation, make the moment special for the both of us. But, in doing so, I’d overanalyzed everything—the place, the clothes I’d wear, even down to how we’d do it.
It wasn’t spontaneous. It wasn’t passionate. It wasn’t anything.
It’d turned out to be exactly what I’d feared.
Just sex.
And, from that moment on, our sex life had had its ups and downs. We had gotten better at it as a couple, but the connection never grew. I’d thought it was the distance.
Turned out, it was us.
“It’s good,” I answered, feeling a bit embarrassed.
The water shifted suddenly, and the phone was snatched from my hand.
“It’s really, really good,” Roman reiterated, grinning at me from just a few inches away.
His wet hand carefully handed the phone back to me as I took in the sight of his naked body across from me.
“I thought you said you were taking a bath?” Melissa said before adding, “Of course you’re in the bath with him. I mean, who wouldn’t be? With a body like that?”
His grin widened.
“He can hear every word you’re saying. You’re not exactly being quiet,” I warned her.
She continued prattling on about Roman’s finer attributes, yelling over the loud rock music in the background.
“It’s not like I’m not saying anything he hasn’t heard,” she said matter-of-factly.
“True,” I agreed.
“Well, thanks for answering my phone call. If I were you, I wouldn’t have. But I appreciate the demonstration of love. Now, get back to your hottie. Glad to know you are doing well. And by well, I mean, a hell of a lot better than me.”
I smiled. “Chin up, buttercup. Only three and a half more years, right?”
“Of med school, sure. And then the real hell begins.”
“You could give up,” I reminded her, knowing exactly what she’d say.
“No, I’m a glutton for punishment. Besides, who needs sex when you have stacks of anatomy books?”
“That’s the spirit!”
“Love you, Cara-saurus.
I rolled my eyes. “Love you too.”
We said our good-byes, and I carefully placed my phone on the nearby bathroom counter. Then I continued with my new favorite pastime.
Staring at Roman. Naked.
“Good?” he said as his eyebrows rose with mischief.
“What?”
“Sex with me is just… good?” He moved forward, causing a ripple effect in the water.
Iridescent bubbles sloshed around my chest and arms as his warm body met mine.
“Did I say good? I meant, extraordinary.” I smiled, his lips hovering over my neck. “Phenomenal?” I continued as his large hand found my breast. “Legendary?”
“Better.”
The stubble from his grin moved roughly against my neck and cheek as he kissed a path toward my mouth, pulling me into his lap at the same time.
“What are you doing?” I murmured through languid kisses.
“What does it look like?” he asked.
I could feel his smile against my lips. Pulling back slightly, I met his green eyes, dark with heat and passion.
“We were supposed to take a bath to relax from the sex we’d just had, remember?”
“Yes, and now, I’m all better,” he purred, continuing his fiery path of kisses down my body.
His voice carried that cocky bedroom quality I loved. Deep, husky, and dripping with sexual overtones. It made me weak in the knees and turned me into putty in his hands.
Something he knew well.
“Come on, Cara—or should I say Cara-saurus?” His grin widened as I sent a few silent curse words to my crazy best friend. “I’ve never done it in a bathtub before,” he murmured in my ear as his hands worked magic below the water.
Well, who was I to say no to that?
“Are you going to explain to your mother why we’re two and a half hours late?” I asked, looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand as I frantically ran around the room in nothing but a towel.
“Sure. It will be the first thing I say right after I introduce you. It will go something like, Hey, Mom. This is Cara, my girlfriend. Sorry we are late. We were fucking in the tub. Made an awful mess. Took ten towels to mop up all the water.”
I just stood in the middle of the room and stared at him, mouth gaped open.
“You’re way too easy to mess with.” He laughed.
“You called me your girlfriend,” I said, still immobile.
He shrugged, grabbing a pair of boxer briefs from a drawer. “Should I have asked first? I don’t know how these things go. Am I supposed to ask your father? Or do I take you to the drive-in and ask you to go steady over cheese fries?”
“You want me to be your girlfriend?” My eyes softened as I took a step toward him.
My arrogant, crazy, beautiful man.
“I thought the whole speech about anniversaries and meeting my mom made that clear enough. That is what you want, right? Otherwise, this whole trip today is going to be fucking awkward. Pretty sure my mom is already naming our kids.”
A couple of more steps, and my arms were around him. “Yes.”
“Yes to the going steady or the naming kids? Because she picked out Jude and Roman. You don’t know what she’ll come up with next.”
“I love you,” I said softly against his chest.
He suddenly stopped breathing, like my words had swooped the air right out of his chest, making my declaration ten times scarier.
Now, I was scared to look up. Scared to pull myself away from his chest and discover that everything had changed. One minute, we had been joking about cheese fries and kids, and the next, he’d be telling me it was all moving too fast.
“Cara,” he whispered.
I shook my head, unwilling to move.
His hand grasped my chin, tilting it upward.
“Look at me,” he begged.
My eyes were still shut.
“Please.”
I finally willed my eyes to open, and when I did, I found him smiling down at me.
No fear, no horror, no anger in his eyes.
Just pure joy.
“I love you, too.”
“But it’s only been two weeks,” I replied quickly.
His smile widened. “You’re trying to argue me out of this? This might be my first go at this, but I’m fairly certain that’s not how you do it.”
“Are you sure?”
He bent down, still grasping my chin, and he placed his lips close to mine. “I’ve never been surer about anything,” he said, taking my hand and leading me to the bed. Sitting me down next to him, both of us still in towels, he wrapped his arms around me. “I didn’t have the Norman Rockwell upbringing you did. My parents… they… it’s hard to explain. Let’s just say, looks can be deceiving, and their relationship left me with a bitter taste in my mouth when it came to love. For a long time. Until you. You are my exception.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s the thing. You don’t have to say anything. You’ve already said it. You’re here. With me. It’s the greatest gift I’ve ever received.”
“So, what you’re saying is, I don’t have to buy you a single anniversary present again?” I grinned as he pulled me into a tight hug.
“I’ll take sexual favors as gifts. Anytime actually. Even now,” he joked. “But that does remind me…” He jumped up, still clad in a towel only, the heavy fabric hanging low on his hips.
I bit my lip and smiled, knowing exactly what was hidden beneath.
“Stop staring. Unless you really want me to tell my mom why we were late.”
Giggling, I pressed my lips together and tried to look at the ceiling while he rifled through his closet. A second later, he pulled out a box and handed it to me.
“Happy two-week anniversary!” he announced proudly.
“Now who’s corny?” I said, happily ripping open the box at once.
It had only been two weeks, but damn if they hadn’t been the best two weeks of my entire life. Roman had opened my eyes not only to what it felt like to be a woman, but he also challenged me, as I challenged him. We worked as a team, and, nothing felt impossible.
“Is this what I think it is?”
He just smiled as I pushed aside several layers of tissue paper to discover what appeared to be a lifetime supply of panties.
But not the grown-up lacy kind. No, these were cotton and covered in puppies and candy bars. One even had characters from a popular kids movie I adored.
“These are fantastic!” I screamed, laughing like a child, as I threw panties all over the bed.
“I told you I found your hamburger underwear sexy! Now, you never have to go without your crazy juvenile, yet sexy underwear.”
My hand cupped his face. I was still grinning as my eyes met his. “You’re amazing.”
“I am, aren’t I? Now, pick a pair, and let’s get out of here before my mom starts calling in a panic!”
“Good plan.”
We both raced around his large bedroom, throwing on clothes and shoes. I took a few minutes to blow-dry my hair and tossed my makeup bag into my purse, so I could finish that process in the car.
Did he even own a car?
“How are we getting to your mom’s? You said she’d be at the country estate today… not her apartment downtown?”
He nodded, just finishing with brushing his teeth. “For the most part, the estate is closed during the year, except for holidays when she likes to wake it back up. Since Thanksgiving and Christmas are just around the corner, she’s having it aired out and decorated for the season. Jude and his family will fly out in a few weeks and get their fill of winter while the rest of us remember the good old days at the family house.”
“How many years has the house been in your family?” I asked, obviously interested in the history of it.
“I honestly don’t know. As far back as I can remember. You’ll love it, but that’s all I’m saying. I want you to be thoroughly surprised.”
“You’re no fun.”
“That’s not what you said in the tub.” He winked, smacking my butt on his way out of the bathroom. “Come on, we’d better get going.”
“You never answered my question about how we’re getting there!” I reminded him, snatching my purse and following close behind.
He grabbed a set of keys from the kitchen table and held them over his head, jingling them, as if they provided some sort of answer.
“Is it a rental? Is it safe? Did you look up its stats online?”
He turned around, grinning from ear to ear. “I love that you’re meticulous and you can spout information quicker than Wikipedia, but sometimes, babe, you’ve just got to relax.”
My shoulders slumped. “But do you know if it even gets good gas mileage?” I squeaked.
His laughter filled the room. “It’s not a rental. It’s mine. It’s very safe, it gets great gas mileage, and yes, I did a shitload of research on my own before I bought it. So, see, you and I, we’re not that different. Okay?”
I smiled weakly as he turned around.
My arms folded in front of me. “How much of that was bullshit?”
“Mmm… maybe half?”
“Nice try.” I shook my head, following him out the door.
He waited for me, locking it behind him, and then he wrapped an arm around my waist as we took off down the hall.
“It does get good gas mileage though,” he added before we stopped in front of the elevator.
“Oh, yeah?” I asked. “How good?”
“Extraordinary,” he said, pushing me forward into the tiny space of the elevator. “Phenomenal,” he purred, backing me up against the wall as he expertly reached behind himself and pressed the button for lobby. “Legendary, I’ve heard.” He grinned, and then he kissed me breathlessly until we reached the bottom floor.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” A familiar voice halted our frenzied make-out session.
Roman turned slowly, and I felt my breath stop as Tyler stepped into view.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
Roman took my hand and slowly led me out of the elevator, keeping me a safe distance from Tyler, who not only looked angry, but enraged. His fists were clenched close to his sides, and he was breathing hard, like he’d just raced a marathon to get here.
“I went to our place—your place,” he corrected quickly, “to drop off the final lease papers, showing the rent had been paid in advance in case anything happened. I wanted to check on you, to make sure you were okay, but your neighbor said you weren’t home and gave me an address you’d given her for emergencies. I guess you didn’t tell her.”
“No. You know I hate gossip,” I said fiercely.
“But I should have known,” he nearly spit, shaking his head. “I should have known you’d go running to him the first second you could. Or maybe you already had. Were you fucking him before I left you? Working your way up to the top?”
Like lightning, Roman moved. One minute, Tyler was standing in front of us, and the next, he was pinned against a wall.
“Listen up, asshole,” Roman sneered. “You’re going to leave. You’re going to leave now and forget you ever came here. Because if I see you here again? Hell, if I see you anywhere near Cara again, it will be the last thing you ever do. Got it?”
Considering Roman had him a few feet off the ground with one hand, Tyler quickly agreed to his terms before he was released, dropping to the floor like a rag doll. He stalked down the hallway and out of the lobby doorway, with nothing more than a huff.
We’d barely gotten a chance to look at each other before applause broke out. We’d been so tied up in our own business that neither of us had even noticed that others—some of Roman’s neighbors, the doorman, and a few guests—were standing by, watching.
“Seems the young boy got what he deserved,” the old lady who lived across the hall from Roman said in approval, patting him on the back on her way to the elevator.
I looked at him, wide-eyed, trying to hold back the laughter.
“And here I thought life with you would be dull and boring. Boy, was I wrong.” Roman said, shaking his head with a grin.
Truer words had never been spoken.
“This is your car?” I asked as we approached the curb.
The bellman had already pulled the car out from the garage.
“Yep.” He grinned with pride.
“It looks like something from the Indy 500.”
“Exactly. I told you, she gets great mileage. That wasn’t a lie.”
“She? Your car is a she?” I laughed.
“Only woman in my life, besides my mom—and you.”
“And does she have a name?” I asked, looking over the sleek red sports car with a bit of jealousy. I’d never been jealous of a car before.
“Lola.”
“Lola, the car.”
“Lola, the sports car,” he corrected, bending down to open my door.
I peeked inside. All tan leather interior, expensive wood trim, not a speck of dirt.
Okay, yeah, I got it.
“Lola, it is,” I mumbled under my breath.
I heard his laughter as he gently closed the door and ran over to the other side, giddy as a schoolboy in a spitball fight.
“I rarely get to drive her anymore. She was a birthday present to myself a few years ago when I was still trying to convince Jude to take over the business even though I knew it was fruitless. My last whim, I guess, before the old ball and chain were officially locked in place.”
“But we’re going to fix that, right?” I reminded him.
“Right,” he agreed. “And then my old ball and chain can be a woman… just as God intended.”
“You’re horrible.”
He pulled into traffic, and soon, the city was behind us.
Roman had told me very little about their country home. Just that he and Jude had fond memories of growing up there as children and always loved the opportunity to return as much as possible.
I guessed I’d always known in the back of my head that the Cavenaugh family was wealthy, that Roman himself was wealthy. But knowing and actually seeing it in person were two things entirely.
Sure, I’d been to Roman’s high-rise penthouse apartment and touched his fine things, but I’d never really considered him rich. He was just Roman.
My Roman.
But as his car pulled off the main road and we entered the gated drive, I realized for the first time the level of money his family dealt with on a daily basis.
And it was a lot.
I’d never been to a mansion, but I was pretty sure the Cavenaughs country home would definitely fit the bill. With its beautiful gardens and Old World architecture, I felt like I was on an episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.
But I wasn’t.
This was where Roman had grown up.
No, correction. This was one of the places where Roman had grown up.
I swallowed audibly.
“It’s just a house,” Roman said, obviously sensing my nerves from the other side of the car. His hand fell gently on my thigh.
“Remind me never to take you to my childhood home. It’s a hovel compared to this place,” I said.
He suddenly stopped the car. We were halfway down the long tree-lined drive with the house in plain view, its immaculate gardens surrounding each side.
“It’s just a house,” he said again, turning fully to meet my gaze. “And I would love to see where you grew up—where you took your first step and studied for all those tests that made you so smart. Maybe, if I’m lucky, you’ll even take me to Dairy Queen.” He smirked.
“Only really special people get to go to Dairy Queen with me.” I laughed.
“Well then, I’ll be on my best behavior—or worst.” His grin widened. “Now, my mom is probably sitting in the foyer, waiting by the window, wondering what the hell is taking us so long. So, let’s do her a favor and end the agony. She’s dying to meet you. I think she was starting to believe that I’d never bring home a woman. Ever.”
“Well, I’m glad I’m the first.”
He leaned forward, tenderly kissing me on the lips. “You’re my first for many things,” he reminded me.
Visions of bubbles and multiple orgasms in bathtubs came to mind.
“Drive.”
“Right.” He cleared his throat, reluctantly turning forward again.
I smiled to myself, loving the effect I had on him. Knowing I could cause such a heated response in a man like him gave me a rush of power.
Something I fully intended on using later to the best of my abilities.
But, for now, I was going to meet Roman’s mother. To say I was scared would be the understatement of the year. The only type of moms I knew were the apron-wearing, home-cooking soccer-mom types.
Driving up to the circular driveway of the giant house, combined with Roman’s vague, disturbing comments about his parents, made me wonder exactly what I was getting myself into.
Maybe we should have waited?
Like until I was walking down the aisle.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” a woman’s voice called out the moment the car came to a stop.
Looking toward the front door, I saw her. Dressed understated but still sophisticated, she was in a casual pair of slacks and a thick green sweater. The older woman surprised me, coming to my side of the car first.
I was engulfed in a hug the moment I stepped out of the car, and I instantly felt all of my worries melt away.
Mrs. Cavenaugh pulled away, and I caught her brushing an errant tear from her cheek.
“Forgive me, but Roman has already told me so much about you. I feel like I already know you, dear. Please come in, out of the cold.”
Her hand wrapped around me as we walked toward the door.
“Good to see you, too, Mom,” Roman muttered behind us.
“I’m getting to you, son. Just wanted to meet this girl you’ve been gushing over first.”
“I don’t gush. Cara, tell her I don’t gush,” he grumbled.
I turned around to see him shaking his head, his hands in his pockets. He might have been complaining, but there was genuine happiness in his eyes as he watched his mother and I embracing.
“He gushes a little.” I snickered.
“Of course he does. Every man who loves a woman gushes about her. Jude does, and their father did. And, now, Roman. It makes me so happy.”
“Dad never gushed,” Roman said, his voice suddenly changing.
His mother stopped, turning. I followed.
“Of course he did. You were just too young to notice. But your father was the king of romance, always—”
“What are we having for dinner?” he asked, clearly interrupting his mother on purpose as we entered the grand foyer. My eyes went everywhere at once.
Her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion before she gave in. “Chicken cordon bleu. That reminds me. I need to go cork the wine. Why don’t you two go get settled in the living room? I’ll bring a few glasses out in a minute.”
We nodded as she made her way to the kitchen.
I took a few silent moments to wander around the foyer, admiring the beautiful staircase and fine tapestries and carpets. It was like walking into a museum, only there were no ropes or signs telling me where I could and couldn’t go, and my little fingers were allowed to touch and investigate everything.
“I’m sorry for that,” Roman said finally. “I don’t like talking about my dad.”
“I know,” I said, looking at an old family painting.
It was quite remarkable. Our family would visit J.C. Penney every year, marking the passing of time with a ten-minute photo session. Roman’s family hired a professional painter, etching the lines of their faces with oils and pastels.
“I still remember sitting for that painting.”
“You sat for it? He didn’t paint it from a picture?” I asked, leaning in to get a better look at the tiny version of Roman.
He couldn’t have been older than four.
“No. My dad hated half-assing things, and portraits were meant to be painted from life, or some crap like that, so we sat for it while the artist sketched it out. It wasn’t the entire time, but as a kid, it seemed like an eternity.”
“I bet. I promise, if we get married, I will not subject our kids to hours of torture in the name of art.”
“Don’t worry; we won’t be having any kids.”
My heart stopped, and I froze, staring at the little green-eyed boy before me with his dark blond hair. He held a hint of mischief and a look of pride.
“What? But the jokes you made earlier… I just thought—”
“They were just jokes, Cara. I don’t want kids,” his voice said softly.
Turning away from the portrait, I looked up at him. “Why?” I breathed out.
“I don’t want to pass any of this mess of a man I’ve become to someone else,” he said. “Besides, we’re good the way we are. Can’t we just enjoy what we have?”
There was fear in his eyes—honest, raw fear—and all I wanted to do was take it away.
“Yes, of course,” I found myself saying. “Just you and me,” I whispered as my eyes roamed the empty house.
What happened to you, Roman?
Roman’s lost and vacant eyes haunted me through the rest of the evening.
I couldn’t stop thinking about our brief conversation.
“I don’t want kids.”
He didn’t want them to be like him.
I didn’t even know how to respond to that.
How could I agree? The man he was happened to be the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
It was crazy. We’d been together for only two weeks, but I knew it to the depths of my soul. As long as I’d held out—waiting, deciding, and debating—over every single step of my relationship with Tyler, I knew none of that was necessary when it came to Roman.
He was it.
Everything I’d ever wanted and more.
How could he not see that?
“Roman tells me you were a history major?” Mrs. Cavenaugh said, interrupting my rapid thoughts.
We’d finished dinner and moved into the living room for casual dessert and coffee. I’d been holding my cup so long that the liquid inside had gone lukewarm.
“Yes.” I smiled. “I’m hoping to find a job in the field soon once my temp position at the company is over.”
“I’m sure you two will miss working together.” She winked. “I helped out Roman’s father from time to time over the years, but we never worked together well. He liked to separate work from home, and I think me being there tended to muddle things too much for him. So, I took a hint and gracefully bowed out, letting the professionals handle his affairs.”
Roman grunted. He’d obviously not meant to do so, and when he caught both of us looking at him, he coughed awkwardly and changed the subject back to me.
“Speaking of jobs, I meant to tell you, Cara. Kevin, the tour guide who showed us around the subway, really enjoyed talking with you, so much so that he asked me for your résumé. He’d like to pass it on to his supervisor. He knows you’re most likely overqualified for a tour guide position, but he’d like to see what else he can do for you.”
My eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Are you serious?” I said, nearly knocking over my cup. “That would be fantastic. I’d gladly take a tour guide position, anything really. I’d just be happy to have a job!”
“Very serious. Polish up that résumé tonight, and I’ll forward it over.”
I set my coffee down and reached over to hug him.
“You know, with your interest in history, I might have something to keep you busy.”
“Mom,” Roman groaned, shaking his head.
“Let her continue. She said my favorite word—history.”
“I thought Roman was your favorite word.” He grinned.
“Second favorite word,” I corrected, playfully elbowing him.
“When I moved to my apartment in the city, I had to go through almost everything in the house to decide what to take and what to leave behind. There are generations of Cavenaugh things here. I have boxes and boxes of pictures, documents, and such in the attic. I haven’t had the chance to go through and catalog it, and to be honest, I don’t even have a clue as to how to begin.”
“Stop right there,” I said, holding my hand up. “Yes, please. I’d be happy to do whatever it is you’re about to ask, as long as it means I get to get my hands on those boxes.”
“Really? Because it sounds like a terrible burden.”
I shook my head. “To me, you basically just said, Hey, here are a dozen boxes of Godiva chocolate. Do you want them?”
We both laughed.
Soon, Roman was hiking up to the drafty attic with me and his mother, and we figured out which boxes could go with us that night and what would be sent by courier since Roman’s car was the size of a go-kart.
“Thank you so much for this, dear. I can’t wait to see what you do with all of it. And take your time.”
“I’m going to dive in as soon as I get home!” I said excitedly.
“Great, Mom. Thanks for killing my sex life,” Roman said behind me, making me instantly blush.
“Oh, hush, you. You’re making the poor girl turn red.” She said, scolding her son. Turning back to me, she winked, “I promise, I really did raise him to be a proper gentleman. It’s in there somewhere.”
I laughed, leaning forward. “He likes to pretend he’s prickly and mean, but he’s everything you raised him to be and more.”
She wrapped her arms around me, giving me a long warm hug. “Thank you, Cara, and please… hold on to him.”
“As tight as I’m able to,” I promised, thinking back to his earlier words regarding kids.
I hoped it would be enough.