Page 27 of Reckless Single Daddy

“I…” I want to tell her everything. It’s on the tip of my tongue, like a bitter aftertaste, but it refuses to leave me. “It—it feels weird being back is all.”

Which isn’t entirely far from the truth. I’ve been gone a long time, and a lot has changed. Cade pretty much owns the entire town now, with all the investments and bailouts he’s made, and on top of all of that, I don’t fit in anywhere anymore. Every friend I ever had decided to fall in line with what was expected of them—never to cross more than two towns over, get married, get a job at one of the schools or city hall, then pop out a few children to continue the legacy. That was never my dream, but at the time, people here were encouraging toward me, always saying to me, “You’re going to go on to become a famous artist and forget us little people.”

But I never forgot, not really. I remembered every friend who made my childhood special, their faces, their likes and dislikes, and the exes I dated and hated but my parents adored—everyone.But none of that matters because to them, I did forget them.

“Is that why you left my bridal shower?” she asks, and I swallow hard. I can’t tell her that Cade convinced me to leave or that the reason I was gone last week was because I jet-set to Colorado when I should have been here, probably helping pick out the bouquets.

I nod distantly, looking away in shame. It isn’t an act; I am embarrassed, but probably not as much as I should be.

Mia closes her eyes and takes a deep, calming breath, most likely as an attempt to center herself. This feeling has been resting on her shoulders for a week now, and as her younger sister, I know she wants to tread carefully with words. At the same time, I’d deserve the tongue-lashing if it meant she needed to get it out of her system.

“I need you to do better. Can you do that?” she asks as nicely as possible.

Knowing her response could have been much worse, I allow myself to quit while I’m ahead. I nod in reply, not wanting any words I might say to dig me into a deeper hole than I’m already in.

She nods, walking to my door and turning before leaving the bedroom. “I’ll need you to be around for your fitting this week,” she says, not leaving any room for me to cancel. Not that I could, anyway, because she walks out, shutting the door behind her.

I fall back against my pillows and let out a deep breath, groaning as tension rolls down my spine. How did everything become such a mess? My collection isn’t anywhere close to being done, Mia is pissed off at me because I’m being a shitty maid of honor, and despite all of that, I still can’t get Cade out of my head.

It’s his fault.

It’s easier to blame him for all of this. He’s distracting me from my work and my obligations to my family. He’s the reason I haven’t been fulfilling my duties to Mia. Maybe this separation is for the best since, clearly, Cade has no actual feelings for me.

I’m the fool who fell for the Joker.

Good. This is good.

I take a deep breath and let it out, feeling at peace with my decision. That is, until I hear the unmistakable sound of my phone vibrating on my side table. I turn as the screen glows and pick it up to see Cade’s name.

Curiosity be damned, right?

Meet me at the marina. - Cade

How romantic—not.

I should ignore it. I should tell him I’d rather watch paint dry—and trust me, I have. But something holds me back from speaking with my head: my heart. I wish I could get them both on the same page, but the reality isn’t quite so simple.

With my phone in my hand, I type my reply, getting up before I change my mind:

I’ll be there. - Sloane

…

I near the marina in all its decrepit glory, the sun inches below the horizon. Splinters and rotted railings line the walkway as I take in the full weight of the last decade. The poor upkeep and lost memories fill this place with sadness, but as I near the dock and see Cade fiddling with the seats of his pontoon boat, hope replaces it. He just secured a deal to save this place and restore the magic that made it so special to all of us. I’m holding onto all the good he’s been doing for the town, allowing that to fuel the grace I’m offering him. But I still find myself questioning if it’s worth it anymore.

I step along the side of the boat. He looks up and lets out a deep breath as soon as he sees me. “I owe you an explanation,” he says.

“You owe me more than an explanation,” I reply, trying my best to ignore the flex of his bicep as he tightens the final rope and the slight wisp of his dark hair in the light breeze.

He sighs again and meets my gaze, nodding. “You’re right.” He steps on the ledge and just holds his hand out, like he knows I won’t deny him.

And I don’t.

I take his hand and get on the boat, taking a seat in the far corner as he unravels the rope anchoring us to the dock. He starts the engine without saying anything, and we take off through the lake like we’ve done a dozen times before. Only, this boat is much newer than his parents’ old pontoon.

We ride out of the stretch of the trees and brush, coming out to the large expanse of the lake. Lake homes line the shoreside, including my own. Normally, we wouldn’t take a second glance when a boat passed through; however, with how little traffic the marina has gotten over the years, maybe my parents would chance a glance out the bay window nestled in their kitchen.

I slouch down just in case, even though I know that’s just paranoia.

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