Page 37 of Confusing Cade
“This was absolutely delicious,” I told Cade for the fourth time as the staff cleared our dessert plates. The most relieving part, though, was the conversation. It had been both enjoyable and thankfully,no onehad mentioned FanZone.Thank God for small miracles.
The food was heavy in my stomach, and my glass of port was half finished. Now that I had been so far removed from this life, it shocked me to think a certain contingent of people in Palm Beach ate this way regularly. And yet, so many wives were skinny and fit, as if the calories in this food didn’t affect them at all.How in the world do they do it?
“I could tell you loved it,” Cade said, his voice warm and teasing, a glint of mischief in his eyes as they locked on mine. “You ate every single bite.”
“Guilty as charged,” I admitted, playfully nudging my empty plate aside. His attention felt like a spotlight, soft but insistent, and I couldn’t quite look away.
He sipped the last of his port wine with a slow, deliberate motion that drew my eyes to his lips for a fleeting second. Then, with a grin that felt like it was meant just for me, he tilted his head toward the sprawling lawn behind us. The band had struck up again, their notes floating through the air. It was somehow perfect for the evening “Want to dance?”
My breath caught, and I blinked at him, surprised by the sudden invitation. “Dance?”
His smile widened, and I felt my pulse quicken.
“Yeah,” he said, his tone low and coaxing. “We should probably work off some of those calories we indulged in.” His eyes flicked down to my lips for the briefest moment before meeting mine again, and the air between us seemed to hum once again with something unspoken.
Before I could overthink it, Cade stood, his movements smooth and confident as he extended his hand toward me. His fingers hovered there, open and inviting, and the sight of them sent a flutter through my chest. Unable to resist, I rose too, my hand sliding into his as if it belonged there. His grip was warm and firm, making my skin tingle where our palms met.
Still holding my hand, he led me across the manicured lawn, his thumb brushing lightly against my knuckles in a way that felt accidental but...maybe it isn’t? My heart gave a little lurch, and I stole a glance at him, catching the faintest curve of a smile on his lips.He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
The oversized modular dance floor glowed softly under the string lights, set up in the middle of the grass, and by the time wereached it, the band had launched into a lively rendition of “How Long” by Ace. The upbeat rhythm pulsed through the crowd, and I noticed several other guests trailing behind us, drawn to the music.
Cade turned to face me, stepping close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him. “Fair warning,” he murmured. “I’m not exactly Fred Astaire.” His eyes danced with self-deprecating humor, but there was something else there too. A challenge? An invitation? “But nobody in Palm Beach is.”
I tilted my head, a playful smirk tugging at my lips as I matched his tone. “Oh, trust me, that’s one of their worst-kept secrets.” My voice came out lighter, flirtier than I’d intended, and his gaze flickered like he’d caught the vibe shift and liked it.
He chuckled, the sound warm and rich, and tugged me gently onto the dance floor. His hand settled at my waist, light but deliberate, his touch warm through the fabric of my dress. My own hand found his shoulder, and as we started to move, our steps were tentative but syncing with the music. I couldn’t ignore the way my body seemed hyperaware of every point where we connected. The space between us felt charged, like a current was building with every sway, every glance.
“You’re not as bad as you claimed,” I said after a moment, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes. They were closer to me now, and the way they held mine made my breath hitch.
“Don’t let it go to my head.” His fingers tightened ever so slightly at my waist. “But I’m starting to think you’re the one making me look good.”
The words hung there, laced with just enough flirtation to make my heart skip. I didn’t look away this time, letting the moment stretch, letting the music and the warmth of his hand pull us a little closer than we probably should’ve been.
Then he swept me closer into his arms, and we moved to the beat of the music. We were awkward and uncoordinated at first.Neither of us knew what to expect from the other, but soon, my long-dormant cotillion lessons kicked in, and I let him guide me across space. It was nice.
Magical even.
“I always hated the dance lessons my mom made me take when I was in fifth grade, but it turned out she was right. I needed them,” he said as the first song faded into one by the Doobie Brothers. As the beat picked up, Cade stepped back from me a little and twirled me around.
“I hated cotillion too.” I laughed as he flung me into a wide ballroom move. “And I think they played this kind of music.”
“The soundtrack of Palm Beach.” Cade pulled me closer to him again, and I caught another whiff of his enticing cologne. He looked so handsome at that moment—the fairy lights illuminating his profile and accenting his jaw as we stepped back and forth. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d danced with a man like this.
I didn’t want it to end.
For the next few moments, I let myself go as he guided us through one song and then the next, a mix of fast and slow that would have made any yacht rock aficionado proud. By then, the dance floor was full, as partygoers joined in, crushing against each other as the band reached a crescendo. I almost forgot the party was mostly about business networking. I let myself go a little, and allowed myself to just enjoy the evening, the warm ocean breeze coming in off the beach, the beautiful art and sculptures hidden in the landscaping around the lawn, the way the band lit up against the water backdrop, and the swirl of faces I knew from the past.
It was almost heaven.
As the final chords of “Steal Away” vibrated through the air, Cade drew me closer, his hands settling at my waist with a possessive firmness that stole my breath.
“Wow,” he said, his voice low and rough, barely audible over the fading music. His eyes locked on mine, dark and searching, and I knew he also felt it. There was no way anyone would deny it.
Things between us had changed.
My lips parted, my heart pounding so fiercely I was sure he could feel it against his chest. “I’m... I’m glad you invited me here tonight,” I managed as the band began their next song. “Thank you.”
He shook his head, but his gaze never wavered. “No,” he said, leaning in until his breath grazed my ear, warm and tantalizing. “Thank you, Bella.”
