Page 13 of Caden's Situationship

“True, but I know it will be weird having me stay in your living quarters, so when we aren’t discussing business, I’ll stay out of your way, deal?”

His eyes dropped to my outstretched hand before meeting mine again. “Deal.” He accepted my handshake, the largeness of his palm and fingers swallowing my dainty hands in a way that had me clearing my throat when we released.

We stood there for a while, awkwardly looking at one another. Each person clearly creating their own biases or comparisons based off the people we seemed to be now, versus the young adults we were when we’d met. The longer we stood there, the harder it was for me not to fidget with the ruffles on my dress.

“Now that that’s settled, let’s have some sweet tea, shall we?” Cynthia suggested, breaking our silence. “Nothing like a refreshing glass of goodness to cool the body on a warm March day. And I’m eager to hear how you both met in college.”

“Sounds great,” I told her, my voice a little squeaky. He was still watching me in a way that I didn’t understand, and I only figured I was observing him just as intently, so I forced myself to look away.

Cynthia glanced from me to her son before humming something that sounded likehmm mmm. My mother only tended to do that when she noticed I was attracted to a man, which made me wonder if Caden was attracted to me. Although, I was pretty sure a blind man from miles away could see the attraction written on my face, so her humming could have been on my behalf instead.

Duh, girlie. Probably definitely because of you.Caden hadn’t been attracted to me like that back then, so I was crazy to even entertain the thought now.So Caden Madden is a looker even more so than he once was?Big deal. I’d been around attractive men my entire life, so this wasn’t anything new to me. Granted, I wished he looked a tad less sexy since no good ever came from me ogling a guy like him. However, another part of me—the part I rarely let take the stage of my outward persona—was still relishing in the fact that his eyes seemed a little flirty. Or at least, I thought they had when we were at his home earlier. No matter what I’d seen, nothing would come from it and it was in my best interest to remember that my situation was complicated enough without dragging someone else into my mess.

This is goingto be the longest three weeks of my life.I was being dramatic, but I was allowed to freak out slightly. Trailing him back to his home had been nerve wracking. Watching him get out of his black truck had me gripping my legs together. And seeing him carry my two suitcases and carry-on up the stairs to the loft as if they didn’t weigh thirty to fifty pounds respectfully had me drooling. Yep, I wasnotlooking forward to the next few weeks.

“You have your own entrance,” he explained when we reached the top of the stairs. “And my cook prepares breakfast and lunch every day for my ranch hands, so you’re more than welcome to join us while you’re staying here.”

He unlocked the door, revealing a very large studio-style loft with country chic décor that I hadn’t expected to see from him.

“There’s a kitchenette and bathroom with a shower as well, but if you want to take a bath, you’ll have to do so in the main house. And before you ask, my sisters-in-law decorated the place,” he supplied. “If it were up to me, this loft would just have a bed and maybe one of Malakai’s paintings on the wall.”

I snapped my fingers when I remembered the artwork Caden used to show me. “Is Malakai still doing a lot of painting?”

Caden smiled as he placed my bags near the couch. “He has several studios where his work is displayed and he’s working with more celebrities and entertainers than I can count.”

“That’s amazing. I used to love it when he’d email you a pic of a new piece he was working on. Goodness, I miss those college days.” I told myself to ease onto the sofa, but I plopped down ungracefully, more tired than I realized.

“Shit was easy back then, wasn’t it?” He sat down beside me, close but not too close. “Do you still write like you used to?”

Write?The word was more foreign than it should have been. “I’m trying to re-work this Southern Belle Handbook, but I’m kind of stuck.”

“Typical Cordelia,” he chuckled. “Can’t imagine how you could get stuck on a topic that you live and breathe.”

“I thought the same thing, but it’s giving me the blues. When you saw me in the parking lot, I’d been getting rejected by a small publisher. My mother would rather I just drop the entire handbook idea all together anyway.” I brushed some of my fallen hair from my eyes, wondering why Caden’s line of vision was so focused on my hand.

“So how long do I have to wait before you tell me when the wedding is?” he asked, as if he’d read my mind.

My eyes flew to the massive diamond on my hand. I’d forgotten I was even wearing a ring. “Oh no, I’m not officially engaged.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Unofficially then?”

“It’s complicated,” I told him, laughing awkwardly. To be honest, I wasn’t sure why I’d laughed at all because my situation wasn’t funny. But he was making me nervous and the only thing worse than an angry Cordelia was a nervous one.

“Are you’re already married then?”

“No,” I stated, shaking my head. “I was engaged a few years ago and it didn’t work out. This ring used to be my aunts and she was one of the few people who really understood me in my family. She passed a couple years ago and left it for me in her will. I wear it every day.”

Reaching out, he lightly touched my hand. “If you aren’t married or engaged, why do you wear it on your ring finger?”

I took a deep breath, the explanation too complicated of a conversation for the moment. We hadn’t even known each other for a full year back when we went to the same university, yet we’d gotten close so fast. Conversations heavier than they should have been between an eighteen and twenty year old. I never could explain why we seemed to connect so well together. Why a friendship between a man like Caden had been as effortless as breathing.

Even so, I waved off his question by telling him, “Well that story doesn’t amount to a hill of beans, so let’s save it for another time.”

His eyes squinted briefly before he let out a boastful laugh. “Damn, I forgot how funny your Cordelia-isms could be sometimes.”

“Don’t make fun of me.” I playfully swatted at his arm. “What about the fact that you call every woman darling all the time? Is that not odd? I thought you would have grown out of that.”

“Sorry, darlin,’ didn’t mean to make you madder than a wet hen.” His voice was high and girly like he was pretending to be me, so I popped him harder that time.

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