Shut Up and Kiss Me: A Lost Boys Novel Page 4

  I grinned, the possibilities stretching out in front of me into the infinite skyline.

  “I take it that is a ‘yes,’ ” Veronica said with a soft chuckle.

  “Yes. I’m sorry. Yes, yes.” Unable to sit any longer, I shot from the chair and held out a hand. She shook it as I thanked her, and I appreciated her taking my profuse use of the words “so much” in stride.

  At my locker, I packed my things, still grinning at the turn of good fortune. Spring really was the best—and now she was bringing me change in the form of freedom. Or the first step of it, anyway. I should get a bottle of wine. No! Sparkling wine. Something with a cork I could shoot off my balcony.

  But the idea of going home to my apartment to celebrate alone did not appeal.

  I could go to Oak & Sage.

  The moment I had the thought, my smile returned. I could tell Rena my good news and have sparkling, bubbly wine with her. Well, since she was working, I’d likely only have it with myself, but still. I could toast to my new job. My new permanent job.

  And going there had nothing to do with the fact that Cade might work this evening. Or the fact that I hadn’t seen him in almost a week.

  Nope. Nothing to do with him at all.

  Mr. Newman occupied my mind on the short drive to Oak & Sage. He might have a worn-down body, but at least he could hold up his end of a conversation. At least he smiled. At least he tried. If Cade would only try, I knew he would surprise himself. I’d worked with guys who were missing limbs, people with permanent injuries who couldn’t physically move. Some of them suffered setbacks, but at least they tried.

  I parked in the lot at Oak & Sage and walked in feeling fluttery and excited, and not only because of my news. I’d already pictured Cade inside, whisking by with a plastic tub, a scowl on his staggeringly handsome face.

  It wasn’t like I had a crush on Cade, but it felt like I was coming here to see him. And I wasn’t. I took a deep breath and pulled the front door open, nodding at the hostess and then passing her by on my way to the bar.

  Totally not here to see Cade.

  Rena spotted me and waved. She finished pulling a beer and set the glass in front of a man at the bar. Then she crossed to the side where I was pulling out a stool for myself.

  “Hey! This is a nice surprise.”

  “I have news.”

  Rena’s eyes rounded in interest. She rested a hand on the bar and waited for me to continue.

  “The rehabilitation center offered to hire me on permanently and I accepted!” I couldn’t help it. Rena and I let out a pair of happy shrieks. Best friends were the best, weren’t they?

  “That’s amazing!” she said. Then she turned and showcased the wall of liquor behind her with a sweep of her arm. “Pick your poison. Your drink’s on me.”

  “Would it be weird to ask for sparkling wine?”

  “Not weird at all.” Rena moved to the wine cooler. She pulled out a tiny, single-serving bottle of champagne and made quick work of cracking the plastic.

  “No cork, then?”

  “Sorry.” She screwed her lips to the side and read the label. “Not on the individual serving size. I promise when we can properly celebrate, I’ll buy you a bottle with a cork.”

  She served my sparkly wine in a tall flute, then filled one with Sprite for herself and held her glass aloft. “To your new permanent gig as a therapist.”

  “It kicks in after I graduate.” I worried my lip. “You don’t think I’m jinxing it, do you?”

  “Absolutely not. You’re graduating, Tasha. And you’re going to pass your boards. And you’re going to be the best PTA in the state.”

  I loved her.

  “Thanks, Reen.” We tapped glasses and drank, and I made a face. “Ugh.”

  “I know. It looks so much yummier than it tastes, doesn’t it?”

  I nodded my agreement but took another sip anyway. I was celebrating. I was drinking the damn champagne no matter what it tasted like.

  “You came in at a good time. Things are pretty slow for the moment. So tell me. How excited are you?”

  “I’m so excited. Relieved, actually. I never dreamed they’d offer me a position. No one ever hinted they’d need more than temporary help. I enjoy the work too. I have a lot of fantastic patients.”

  Rena raised one eyebrow. “And one really uncooperative one?”

  We both knew she meant Cade.

  “Oh, well”—I hesitated, staring at the bubbles sticking to the side of my glass—“you know. Some things take a while to change.”

  Since a man with a tall beer was her only guest, Rena leaned on the bar in front of me and made herself comfortable. “Yeah, Devlin said he’s being less of a pain in the ass than before, that he’s trying. I hear he moved into a room over the garage?”

  I nodded, remembering how it felt up there. Like Cade was a different guy than the one sulking in his former bedroom. “He is trying. He has a car he’s fixing up as well.”

  And he smells good even dirty.

  “That’s good. I’ve been pulling for him since his life was flipped—along with his car. I can’t imagine having to relearn how to talk. Getting back to normal must preoccupy his every thought.”

  “Maybe, but he isn’t willing to work on it. Not with me, anyway.”

  “Give him time, Tash. I know you. You aren’t one to give up on someone who needs you. You’ve given lots of chances to people who didn’t deserve it.”

  I knew her raised eyebrow meant Tony, and she wasn’t wrong. I’d given him second, third, and fourth chances.

  “Plus, I have the added bonus of my father threatening me if I continue seeing Cade,” I said in a stage whisper.

  “What? Why?”

  I shrugged rather than tell her my dad thought Cade and Paul would influence me to become a criminal. Devlin hadn’t walked the straight and narrow either, and I didn’t want to accidentally insult Rena.

  “But you are right about Cade,” I said, masterfully steering the conversation. “He’s been through a lot and I’m tenacious. I’ll get him to crack. Then speak.”

  In the last handful of months, Cade had learned the secret of his parentage, wrecked his car, and lost his plans for a future as an attorney. His hesitation was understandable.

  “It’s all coming together,” I told her. “I was able to avoid moving back in with my dad—I mean, with his help.” I winced. My father gave me an allowance for living on campus and I went to the mat pretty hard, arguing my apartment was safer. It wasn’t a lie, but my new place was definitely more costly than a dorm room.

  “Your father has plenty of money, Tasha,” Rena told me. “Don’t feel guilty that he wants to fund your education and make sure you have a place to live. You’re independent. You’ll cut those strings as soon as you’re able. I know you will.”

  I appreciated her being on my side. I knew I could be dismissed as spoiled, but Rena never saw me that way.

  “And now the job!” Rena lifted her Sprite and tapped my glass with hers before swallowing it down and bending over the sink to wash the flute. After a demure burp, she said, “You’re getting there, Tash. Don’t give up now. These things going on with your dad are about to be history.”

  She moved to a couple who sat down, and I used the moment to take a look around the restaurant. Oak & Sage wasn’t overly busy, but there were quite a few suits and nice dresses in here. A few men in the corner leaned on the table toward one another, having a heated discussion if their body language was anything to go by. Several martini glasses dotted the table.

  I settled into my chair and enjoyed people watching, lifting my bubbly and taking another sip, glad I decided to come here to celebrate. I scanned the room for Cade in case he was here.

  Just because it would be polite to say hello.

  Not for any other reason.

  Chapter 4

  Cade

  Work was riveting, if your idea of riveting was cleaning up after people like livestock. Seriously, it floored
me how much food people wasted. Equally alarming was how much money they paid to throw out half the food.

  That could be me being grouchy.

  I’d shown up late, but lucky for me it hadn’t mattered too much. I mean, other than the fact that Devlin had steam coming out of his ears. I didn’t let him rile me. I’d been through more difficult struggles in my past than Devlin being pissy.

  It was pretty slow tonight, likely because this was the first really nice day in a while. Nice weather in Ridgeway reminded everyone it was time to leave the house. That was probably the origination of my grouchiness. All I’d been able to think about was how I’d rather be under my car in the open-air garage than here in this dimly lit building.

  I dumped a bus tub of dirty dishes off at the dish tank and turned the corner to walk to the back. As I did, the degenerate criminal line cook I was coming to hate with every fiber of my being called out, “Hey! Chatterbox!”

  Fuck. Here we go.

  My shoulders tightened along with my jaw. I couldn’t stand that guy. He thought he was funny, as evidenced by his braying like a jackass at his own quip. I’d ignored his shouts all day. He’d taken to calling me Dopey and Mute, then devolved to Chatty and now Chatterbox. I was trying to keep my head down and stay out of trouble, but he wasn’t making it easy for me.

  Back out in the dining room, I occupied myself by collecting empty wineglasses and a bottle when someone called, “Cade?”

  I turned to find one of my buddies, Miller, who’d been frequenting Oak & Sage lately. He was having dinner with a petite brunette. Girlfriend, maybe? I didn’t realize he was seeing anyone, which shows how out of touch we’d fallen. She gave me a demure smile. I straightened, moving the wineglasses and bottle to the same hand so I could shake Miller’s.

  “Hey, man.” He stood from the table and we faced each other awkwardly.

  I’d left school abruptly. Busy with physical therapy and relearning how to chew food made college a trying task. Since I didn’t go back, I hadn’t seen much of anyone. My friends didn’t exactly ditch me. We just didn’t have much in common any longer, since we weren’t studying and crashing campus parties together.

  “I’ve been wondering how you were, man. Spotted you the other day, but you ducked into the back.” Miller was a nice guy. My height, with short hair and glasses, he looked the part of an attorney-at-law already. I had seen him that day too, but I ran like a pussy when I saw him and our friends here. To avoid this very conversation.

  “How are things?” he asked.

  I nodded, then figured he’d think I was an asshole if I didn’t speak.

  “G-good.” I tried to smile to cover the glitch but it was a grimace instead. “You?”

  “We, uh, we’re doing well.” He palmed the back of his neck like he was nervous. Which made the hair on the back of my own neck stand on end. Miller wasn’t the most direct one of our friends, and I could tell something weighed on his conscience. We always said of our future firm that Miller would be the pro bono guy. He’d be good with charity cases. “We’ve, uh”—he cleared his throat—“we’ve decided to go ahead with our plans for the building downtown.”

  I felt the color drain from my face and the room seemed to cant to one side. He wasn’t looking at me when he started speaking again.

  “Brian secured a lease. We had to. Rumor had it another business was about to snatch it. I know we’re a ways off from starting the firm, but we couldn’t let it be leased by another lawyer or something worse. Like an accountant.” He was poking fun at my dad, and made a horrified face that was supposed to make me laugh. I didn’t feel like laughing. Puking, maybe.

  Our building. The one next to a boutique with jewelry in the window and on the other side, a sushi restaurant. Claire Street. I’d found that location. I felt my ears turn red as a mix of anger and shock washed through my bloodstream.

  Miller hazarded a gaze up at me, and despite his being the messenger, I shot darts out of my eyes. They’d moved on. Without me. All of them.

  “Sorry, man. We didn’t think you were coming back to school. We’re graduating in June. Brian’s application into law school was already accepted.” He shrugged like he didn’t know what else to say. I could relate. I didn’t know what to say, even if I could have fucking said it.

  “Cade. Table fifteen!” Chet, the floor manager, called to me. Having a dorky guy put me to task—especially when the task was collecting dirty dishes—was the perfect topper to this shitty conversation. Miller, standing in his dress pants and button-down, was having a two-hundred-dollar dinner with his girlfriend, while I was wore a dirty apron, my fingers looped around the evidence of another couple’s evening of fine dining.

  “Cade!”

  I turned and lifted my chin at Chet to let him know I heard him. He tapped his wrist like he was wearing a watch to let me know I wasn’t allowed to stand here and socialize. The prick.

  “I’ll let you work,” Miller said. I would have felt bad for him if I wasn’t so busy feeling bad for myself.

  “Nice to meet you,” his girlfriend chimed. I gave her a tight smile and a nod before I turned and stalked to the kitchen.

  I dumped the bottle and gingerly placed the wineglasses in the dish rack. I was about to go out to table fifteen and clear it when the line cook—who had no idea how awful his timing was—decided to run me down again.

  “Hey, old Dopey’s back, guys.”

  Laughter rippled down the line.

  “Stop talking so much. We’re tired of hearing it!” he called out, earning another few chuckles interspersed with clanging utensils.

  “Seriously, Dopey,” called the guy putting together a salad at cold side. “Hamilton’s right. You’re yapping our ears off.”

  I turned and faced Hamilton—the degenerate line cook. He was taller than me and had a protruding gut, red beard, and no hair on top of his head.

  “Aww. I hurt his feelings.” Hamilton sneered, the word “feelings” coming out in baby talk like “fee-wings.”

  That’s it.

  My lip curled. I reached around my back, untied my apron, and slipped it over my head. Devlin wasn’t going to like this.

  “Where you going, Chatty?” Hamilton goaded. “Don’t go away mad. Just go—”

  I stepped behind the line, balled my fist, and popped him in the face. Blood spurted from his nose and onto the steak sizzling away on the flattop grill. The salad guy backed into the counter when I turned on him.

  I lifted my eyebrows, asking him silently if he had anything to add.

  He didn’t.

  A swearing, bleeding Hamilton made a lot of noise, but he wasn’t interested in challenging me further. Instead, he held his palm over his gushing nose and yelled at a few other guys to put a new steak on the grill and get back to work.

  I shook out my hand. Son of a bitch, that hurt.

  As I was flexing my fingers, I saw someone approach behind me. I turned and raised my fist, ready to take out whoever was barreling at me and stopping short when I saw it was Dev.

  It spoke to how far we’d come that I didn’t take a swing at him.

  Hamilton tattled, shouting about how I’d hit him. Shouting about how it was unprovoked. The salad guy backed him, saying that I’d walked up and punched Hamilton in the face for no reason whatsoever. Then he slid me a side eye like he was daring me to say something. Asshole.

  I spoke only when absolutely necessary. And even right now, with my ass on the line, it was not necessary.

  “Everybody calm down. Get back to work.” Devlin looked the authority in his suit, but Hamilton was aware Dev was ten years his junior.

  “You know what, Calvary? I don’t think I will.” Hamilton yanked his apron off and wiped it across his bloody face.

  “I need you back there tonight, man,” Devlin said, holding out a palm to stop him.

  “I’m injured. I’m heading to the ER.” Hamilton’s voice was flat, a smile cresting his stupid mouth. “I may have to sue. Or get workers’
comp.”

  “And I may have to call the cops, since I know you have weed in your locker.”

  Hamilton froze.

  “But go ahead. Take the rest of the night off.” Devlin’s voice was steel, and the look he gave Hamilton said he would deal with him later. Dev turned to me next. “Out. Get out of my kitchen.”

  I didn’t argue, not that I would have anyway, simply shrugged past him, ignoring the cheers of my coworkers. Mocking voices rose behind me. Comments like “Chatterbox” and “Dopey’s going to cry” nipped at my heels as I exited the kitchen. Through my very red vision blurred by rage, I barely noticed when I ran into the blonde right outside the doorway.

  Soft curves met my chest, and my hands instinctively came up and curled around small shoulders. I was eye to eye with the bluest blue eyes and the softest, pinkest lips I’d ever seen.

  I blinked as if she were a mirage.

  Tasha

  I had just come out of the ladies’ room when I smacked into a wall. But it wasn’t a wall. It was Cade. And he was…seething. His fists were balled at his sides, his eyes unseeing as he looked down at me. The moment he recognized me, those hands rose to steady me and his features softened. The transformation was astounding.

  The way his eyebrows returned to their neutral stations and his mouth softened and his thumbs brushed over my shoulders in silent apology.

  “Cade. What happened?” I scanned his clothes—polo, work pants, boots. No apron. I didn’t see anything out of place, but instinctively I knew something was wrong. Then I spotted it. His knuckles were bleeding. “Oh my God, you’re hurt.” I lifted his hand in mine, wincing as a dart of sympathy pain shot through me.

  I grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the restroom. Much to my surprise, he didn’t stop me. Until I put a palm on the women’s restroom door.

  “No.”

  Once he resisted me, moving him became impossible. There was simply no way I could budge him when he dug in. He was like that physically. And he was like that mentally. Go figure.