Page 56 of Confusing Cade
“Me too, but you might get too cold.”
“And then I’d have to warm up in the hot tub.” I shrugged out of the coat, and it fell to my feet. “Speaking of which, I’m getting a little hot in here right now.”
I crossed my arms over my stomach, lifted the sweater, then dropped it next to the discarded coat. With Cade’s gaze still on me, I walked from the platform to the sofa. The attendant had left us alone a few minutes before, shutting a thick curtain on the opposite side of the room as she did. When I reached Cade, I straddled his hips, the nylon of the pants squishing and cracking.
“I don’t know how I can repay you for the new wardrobe,” I said into his ear.
He cupped my hips with his hands, and a small tingle went through me. “You don’t have to do anything.”
“But I want to,” I said, then kissed his ear, his jawline, and finally his mouth.
We crashed together, and his hands roamed my body, exploring the curve of my hips, then my side, and finally my breasts. When he unhooked my bra, I broke our embrace and lifted my chin.
“Right here?” I asked. “In the dressing room?”
He shrugged. “Think they’ll notice?”
I kissed him again. “If I scream, everyone will notice.”
He crashed his lips to mine. “Then I better pay for all this because when we get to my place, I’m going to make you do that all night.”
I lifted off Cade’s lap and got dressed, grabbing my leggings and sweatshirt from the pile on the stool near the mirror. It didn’t take long to pay for the haul of clothing, all of which were beautifully made and fit for anyone on a luxury ski vacation. And that’s what this was—luxury. It was one thing to know Cade was wealthy, to know he lived on the exclusive island I’d once called home, but it was another to see what his life was like beyond South Florida, what his wealth gave him access to, and how he used it.
And it was impressive.
The man got a reaction wherever he went.
We stepped out of the boutique, the glass door swinging shut behind us with a soft chime, and Cade hoisted three oversized bags of clothing into the cavernous trunk of his Mercedes SUV. The late afternoon air was crisp, tinged with the scent of pine and snow, a sharp contrast to the humid weight of South Florida I’d always known. As we pulled away from the curb, the engine’s low hum blended with the quiet anticipation settled in my chest.
The drive to Cade’s house in the Deer Valley section of Park City took fifteen minutes, though time seemed to stretch as the road unfolded before us. The route wound through mountain passes, each curve revealing a new layer of beauty that made my breath catch. Alpine vistas stretched endlessly, and the jagged peaks of the Wasatch Mountains pierced a sky painted in hues of lavender and gold. We snaked past sprawling estates with stone façades, their windows aglow with warm light, and sleek luxury condos perched like sentinels overlooking the valley. Every so often, a deer would pause at the roadside, its eyes glinting in the fading light, as if it, too, belonged to this perfect tableau.
I pressed my forehead against the cool window, my reflection faint against the panorama outside. How could a place like this exist? South Florida had its own allure, but it was loud, vibrant, alive with chaos. Park City wasdifferent. It was serene, almost reverent, as if the mountains themselves demanded silence to speak their ancient truths. The landscape didn’t just surround you; it enveloped you, made you feel small yet inexplicably significant, like you’d stumbled into a secret the universe had kept hidden only for you.
My fingers traced the edge of the leather seat, grounding me as my mind spiraled. This was the kind of place that whispered wealth. Not the ostentatious kind, but the quiet, effortless kind that didn’t need to shout. The air itself felt expensive, clean and sharp, filling my lungs with a clarity I hadn’t realized I craved. I glanced at Cade, his profile calm as he navigated the curves with practiced ease, and I wondered if he noticed the magic anymore. Did anyone ever get used to this? How could they?
“We’re right up here,” Cade said once he wound the car off the main highway and onto a private road that zipped up a section of one of the lower mountains. “Actually, the property starts here.”
“You own all of this?”
He nodded, his eyes on the road, his expression unreadable. “From here, we have access to one of the ski lifts if you want to hit the slopes tomorrow. Or even today.”
“I donotwant to ski today.”
He laughed. “Good, because I have other plans.”
“You better.”
He drove the final ascent, only pausing to open a wide wooden gate with stone pillars. Once we passed it, the property opened to a large contemporary chalet with a brown stone façade that made the property blend in with the mountain and pine trees around it.
I gasped. “Thisis your house?”
“Yep.” He took his phone from the console, opened an app, and pushed a button that raised the door of the two-car garage on the far side of the house. “My property manager texted earlier that she has everything ready for our stay.”
I gaped at him.Is he saying he has on-call staff to care for this place when he’s not here? Who the hell is that rich?I decided not to ask. I could guess. Yes, there was absolutely no doubt the last few years had been exceptionally kind to Cade.
“It’s beautiful,” I managed.
“You’ve only seen the garage, Bella.”
