15. The Perils of Dating - Jules
My hand trembles as I apply mascara. He’s going to be here any minute, and I can’t help but vacillate between going on this date and calling it off. The rational part of my brain can’t comprehend that I’m about to go on a “friend” date with Cash’s brother. His fucking twin brother. As I jab the wand into the mascara tube, I wonder how the hell I got myself into this situation. Why didn’t I say no?
It’s only one date, Jules.
A knock on the door quiets the battle going on in my head. I shove the mascara into the makeup bag on the vanity, along with the lip gloss I already applied. Smoothing the bodice of my black dress, I leave the bathroom and make my way to the front door, where I find Kaden standing on the other side. One thing I’ve noticed about Kaden is he doesn’t do dressed-up, yet he manages to pull it off somehow in a pair of dark blue jeans and a white button-down shirt.
He shoots me an easy smile, and God he looks like Cash. Same thick, dark hair. Same steel eyes. It trips me up every time. But Cash is smoldering intensity—serious with small doses of playfulness that shine through every now and again. Kaden, in contrast, is almost carelessly easy-going.
“You look amazing,” he says, taking me in from the soft waves of my hair to the sandaled wedges on my feet, pearl-painted toenails peeking through.
“Thank you.”
A moment passes as we stare at each other. He breaks it by offering his hand. “Ready to go?”
Hesitation freezes my limbs, and I try to convince myself there’s still time to back out. I can tell him this is a mistake—unprofessional at best on my part, considering I work for his brother. And if that fails, I can always cough up a fib and say I’m coming down with a stomach bug. There’s nothing sexy about the possibility of a ruined night thanks to a puking date.
“Having second thoughts already?” His mouth tilts into a crooked grin. “Scared you’ll want to add some benefits to that whole ‘friend’ idea?”
“No.” There’s zero chance of that happening.
“Don’t make me play my trump card.”
“What’s that?”
“You gave me your word.”
God, he just won’t quit smiling, which makes it hard to say no, even if his strong-arming tactics are making me uncomfortable. I’m slightly sick with myself as I slide my hand into his. “Okay. One date.”
“One date,” he agrees.
I switch the lock on the doorknob before I let him lead me down the stairs to the alleyway, where a silver sports car is parked. The evening is mild, clear of rain, and I’m thankful for the low humidity, since I’m actually having a good hair day.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” Kaden opens the passenger door for me, and I lift a brow as I slide into the luxurious two-seater.
“Playing the mysterious angle, are you?”
“Absolutely,” he says with a wink as he closes the door.
While he drives toward his secret destination, we chat about music, favorite foods, and other details that help shape a person into who they are. We share some of the little things I ache to ask his brother.
I want to know everything about Cash.
Is he a breakfast person? Or is he one of those too-busy-to-eat people who thinks coffee is a food group, so therefore should count as a meal?
Does he like pulp in his orange juice? Or maybe he doesn’t like orange juice at all.
Which side of the bed does he sleep on? And does he fall asleep past midnight, or does he rise before the sun?
Fuck, he’s the CEO of a huge company, so he probably does both.
I want to uncover all his secrets. All the important moments in his life, even the ones he’d rather forget.
And God, I want to be the one to help him forget.
But that will never be me. A sharp pang rips through my chest. I’ve got it bad—I’m beyond pretending otherwise. I’ve got it so bad that I’d rather see him happy with his wife than miserable.
Which he so clearly is right now. Yesterday, I spied them leaving together in the elevator at the end of the day, each claiming opposite sides. The vibe between husband and wife was chilly enough to lower the temperature in the building by ten degrees. Not for the first time, I wonder why he’s staying in the marriage when he’s that unhappy.
The only answer I come up with is that he must love her enough to stay, even though she fucked up. The realization leaves me bitter and green because I wonder if anyone will ever love me enough to stay.
“You’re quiet over there,” Kaden says.
I come back to myself, and that’s when I realize we’re on a residential street on the other side of Union Bay. At least, I think it’s Union Bay. Lesley showed me around Seattle during my first week here, and I recall her bringing me to a park nearby.
“Where are you taking me?” My eyes widen at the upscale neighborhood. Each house seems bigger and more elaborate than the last.
Kaden pulls into a circular driveway made of cobblestone, and my jaw drops at the enormous two-story home nestled in a thicket of trees. The house looks like it belongs in a fairytale, with its pitched gabled roof and mullion windows.
“This is my parents’ house.”
My heart thuds to the bottom of my gut, and I turn frantic eyes on him. “This is not an appropriate date between friends, Kaden.”
“It’s not a big deal. I’ve brought casual dates here before. My parents are always putting on a dinner party for something.”
“What’s the occasion?” It’s bad enough he brought me to meet his parents on our first—and only—date, but if this is an important family function of some sort, that will be even more nerve-wracking.
“It’s my birthday. My mom is the queen of organized fun.” He shrugs a shoulder. “She insisted.”
I fist my hands, palms already sweating. That means Cash will be here too, probably with his wife. And despite how tempting the thought of seeing him is—especially since he’s leaving the day after tomorrow for Oklahoma City—the idea of having to swallow a whole evening of watching him with her is too much.
“This is beyond awkward,” I say, not even trying to hide my dismay. “Is your brother here too?”
“Well, yeah. We are twins,” he teases, aiming that cute and flirtatious smile at me, which does zilch to calm my nerves.
“Cash is my boss. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable this is making me?”
“I didn’t mean to upset you. I really don’t think he’ll mind. He’s not gonna fire you or anything.” He pulls his brows together. “You guys seem friendly enough at work.”
Friendly doesn’t even cover it. Jesus, he has no fucking clue.
“I want you to take me home.”
Letting out a breath, Kaden drags a hand through his hair, and it’s a move that reminds me too much of Cash.
I feel sick.
And stupid.
So fucking stupid.
“Okay,” he relents. “I’ll blow off the dinner.”
“No! You can’t do that because of me.”
“By the time we reach your apartment, everyone will be halfway through the main course. There’ll be no point in turning around to come back.”
I glance out the passenger window, taking in the white luxury car we parked next to. Somehow, I know it belongs to Cash. Or more likely, his wife, because it doesn’t seem like his style. He’s not hung up on luxurious things, regardless of his expensive suits and CEO title.
Underneath the money and power is a man that likes downtown Seattle because he can get around without a car. He’s the type of guy that wears gym shorts to the market on Saturdays. The kind of guy that finds joy in the small things—like going for a walk and eating berries, or brushing his hand over mine on a Ferris wheel.
“C’mon, Jules. I promise, it’ll be fine.”
I cringe when Kaden says my name. He sounds too much like his brother for it to sit right with me, because I fucking love the way Cash says my name.
“I don’t know…”
“We don’t have to stay long. We can always beg off and say we have plans later.”
Gulping back my humiliation, I answer by pushing the passenger door open. And that’s enough for Kaden, as he’s out of the car and at my side seconds later. He takes my arm in his and escorts me down the cobblestone walkway. Solar lanterns light the path to the front entrance, where potted plants decorate the porch. A gentle breeze teases the butterfly wind chimes hanging next to the arched door.
I love butterflies, and something about filthy rich people hanging something so ordinary by the front door is oddly comforting. Maybe Cash got his laid-back personality from his parents. Maybe this night won’t be as awkward and humiliating as I fear. Hell, maybe it’ll be fun.
As Kaden ushers me inside, I know I’m fooling myself. Especially when we come face-to-face with Cash in the living room. God, he looks delicious enough to eat in a charcoal button-up shirt that matches his eyes. Cuffs rolled up, of course. No ties, no suit jackets. The look is so him.
But the hard glint in his gaze isn’t. It’s foreign and a bit frightening, and I’m one breath away from bolting. His eyes are two storm clouds as they swing back and forth between his brother and me.
“Why is your assistant here, Cash?” His wife appears from what I’m guessing is the kitchen. Standing at his side like she belongs there, with an air of sophistication I find intimidating, she backs up her question with a perfectly arched brow as she sips from a glass of wine.
“I was just about to ask that same question.” Cash isn’t addressing his wife—he’s aiming the question at me, and I can’t help but notice the accusing line of his mouth.
“Jules is my date,” Kaden says, winding an arm around my waist and pulling me to his side. I stiffen at his touch, my face flushing hot enough to bring on a sunburn.
Monica places a hand on her hip. “Isn’t this rather inappropriate?”
“I’m sorry,” I say, putting some distance between Kaden and me. “I didn’t realize we were coming here….” I trail off, unsure of what else to say. Finding the words to form an acceptable explanation is next to impossible. I’m not even sure how I ended up here. If only the floor would fissure at my feet and swallow me.
Cash swings a fierce gaze back to his brother. “I need to speak with Jules for a minute.” Giving me no chance to object, he gestures for me to precede him through the French doors off the sitting room. We enter a garden room, and I catch a whiff of the bay through the open windows. The evening is mild and smells of summer, but it has nothing on the seductive woodsy scent wafting off him.
“I’m so…sorry. This is…I mean…” Fuck. I clamp my lips shut to silence my stammering. A trickling waterfall gives off peaceful ambience, and the sound would normally calm my nerves, but it’s not working now.
“Why are you with him, Jules?”
I blink a few times, my pulse fluttering in my throat. “He asked me out.”
“He asked you out?” A tick goes off in his jaw, and he crosses his arms over his chest. I can’t tear my eyes away from his forearms. There’s something insanely sexy about his stance, the low tenor of his voice, and the way he’s pinning me under that fierce gaze that speaks one word and one word only.
Mine.
I want to be his, want to experience every nuance of the possessive vibe vibrating off his skin. The air is thick with it, our yearning palpable.
“And you said yes.”
I’m not sure that’s a question, but if it is, there’s a demand for an explanation behind it. An issuance of anger. Which leaves me gaping at him because he has no right to go all caveman on me. Not as long as that ring is still on his finger. Not as long as there is no him and me.
“I’m sorry if this is awkward, professionally, but you have no place getting so angry over who I date.”
“He’s my brother, Jules. Do you have any idea how much this is gutting me?”
“I think I do.” More than he’ll ever know.
Slowly, his arms fall to his sides, and an exhale of defeat steals his anger. But not the longing. It’s ever-present and inescapable for both of us. The urge to pull him near and push him away consumes me. Who knew a few feet of distance could feel so close yet never-ending, all at once?
He closes the space between us by a foot. “Jules…” My name is but a quiver on his lips, a sigh of sorrow on his tongue. The warm graze of his knuckles on my cheekbone is enough to make my knees want to give out. To make me wet.
I’m hot and achy at the core, my panties damp from the electric storm of his gaze. The aftershocks of his touch shake me apart, and the edges around us dim. This moment has trapped us in time—in a fleeting reality where nothing else exists but the two of us.
In this lone and unforgettable moment, there’s only him and me.
Until approaching footsteps thrust us into the next moment, and all the painful ones that are sure to follow. We break apart until we’re standing at an acceptable distance from each other.
“There you are,” a woman says, and I immediately know she’s Cash’s mother, because she has the same dark hair and smoky eyes as her sons. “We’re ready to sit down to dinner now.”
“We’ll be right out.”
Her attention lands on me. “And who is this?”
Silence stretches between the three of us, the seconds ticking away longer than is comfortable. “Don’t be rude, Cash,” she says with a chastising tone only a mother can perfect. “Introduce us.”
“Sorry, Mom. This is Jules. She’s my personal assistant…and Kaden’s date for the night.” His voice is strained, as if his vocal cords are launching mutiny.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Elle,” she says with a welcoming smile that sets me at ease. The kindness I sensed in Cash the first day I met him was obviously passed down from his mother.
I’m about to explain my presence when I spot movement between the open French doors. Kaden is leaning against the door jamb with both hands in his pockets, watching us.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” I tell his mother. “Thanks for having me tonight.” I don’t have the strength for smalltalk right now—not when my skin is still buzzing from the brush of Cash’s knuckles on my cheek
“We’re glad to have you, Jules.”
Anxious to get the hell out of Dodge, I gesture at Kaden. “Looks like he’s waiting for me.” I give Elle a nervous smile before making my way toward Kaden. I don’t need to glance over my shoulder to know that Cash is watching me. The heat of his gaze burns into my back, intense as the sun. But it’s a good kind of hot—the kind with tingles and goosebumps and sparks of awareness between my thighs.
Kaden pushes off the door jamb as I reach him. “If he gave you any shit about us—”
“No,” I interrupt the impending tirade I sense is coming. “He was just wondering what was going on, so I told him we had a date tonight.” Arching a brow, I let my irritation glower across my face. “You might want to brace yourself for an earful later. You could have told him. Or me, for that matter.”
“I’ll talk to him,” he says, draping an arm around my shoulder. “If it’s your job you’re worried about, there’s no need.”
My job is the least of my worries.