Page 57 of Confusing Cade
“Well, it’s the prettiest garage I’ve ever seen.”
He turned off the car engine, escorted me out of the car, and asked if I wanted the nickel tour. Of course, I did. A side door led us from the garage to the mudroom, which was already stocked with spare skis, mountain bikes, a snowboard, and other equipment. From there, we entered an oversized kitchen with an open floor plan that seamlessly showed off a grand living room buttressed by a balcony that ran the length of the house and windows designed to frame Deer Valley, the mountains, and the alpine slopes around us. Everything was a mix of marble, stainless steel, understated elegance, and contemporary furnishings. The fireplace, with its gently flickering flames, provided such a cozy vibe, making it easy to imagine hot chocolates sitting on the plush rug placed before it.
“It’s embarrassing,” he said when we entered the main bedroom suite. “And now that you’re here, I’m thinking how embarrassing it is.”
“What is?”
He shrugged. “A lot of space for a single person.”
“It’s beautiful. And what’s more, it's yours.”
“I know but...” He kissed me again, his lips warm and tentative, perhaps seeking reassurance in the vastness of hissolitude. The room was a sanctuary, with a king-sized bed that seemed almost too large for one person, draped in luxurious linens that matched the calm, muted tones of the walls. There was a walk-in closet larger than some apartments I'd seen, and a bathroom that resembled a spa with its dual sinks, a soaking tub under a skylight, and a shower with multiple heads for a rainfall effect.
Outside on the balcony, the night air was crisp and scented with pine. Below us, the lights of Deer Valley twinkled, a stark contrast to the darkness of the surrounding mountains. “I bought this place thinking I’d fill it with memories, with people, but...” His voice trailed off as he looked over the landscape, his gaze lost in the distance.
“It’s not about filling space, though,” I said, leaning against the railing beside him. “It’s about the people. Aboutwhoyou spend time with. Even if it’s just you—or now, us—here.”
Cade’s hand found mine, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the chill of the night. “So you’re saying I should be content.”
Yes, because I doubted that Cade realized how much he had.
We returned inside, the warmth enveloping us as we moved to the game room, where a pool table, dart board, and vintage arcade games stood as silent witnesses to the solitude he spoke so much of. “I thought I'd have friends over, parties, maybe more...” he said as he handed me a cue stick. “But life had other plans.”
And if he goes on to become a politician, he might use it even less.But I could imagine week-long vacations with Lilly here, perhaps with a few of her friends from school too. Relaxing with books in reading nooks overlooking the stunning view, delicious winter soups warming our bellies.Why hasn’t Cade brought anyone here?
As we played pool, the clack of the balls on the table broke the silence. Cade unbuttoned the top of his shirt, and I could see him relaxing, the embarrassment fading into something like hope. “You know,” I said, lining up a shot, “this place could be a canvas for your future, not a monument to your past.”
“Or maybe it's about finding the right partner for this game of life.”
The night continued with more laughter, stories, and the slow, comforting realization that spaces, no matter how large, are defined by the people who share them. It wasn't just about the grandeur of the house but the simple act of sharing it, of turning emptiness into an experience.
After a few hours, Cade led me back to the main bedroom, and the air between us charged with a quiet intensity. The room felt different now, the vast space was somehow more intimate, and the shared warmth of our laughter was echoing from earlier. He dimmed the lights, and the soft glow of the bedside lamps cast a gentle warmth over everything.
We stood there for a moment, and the silence filled with the unspoken. He reached for my hand, his fingers tracing patterns on my palm, a silent question in his touch. I responded by stepping closer, our bodies aligning naturally as if they had always known where they belonged.
“I want you to feel at home here,” he whispered, his voice a soft rumble that seemed to resonate with the heartbeat I could feel pulsing between us. “Do you?”
I nodded; my own voice caught somewhere between my heart and my throat. He lifted my hand to his lips, kissing each fingertip with a reverence that made my knees weak. His other hand found my waist, pulling me into an embrace that was both comforting and exhilarating.
We moved to the bed, settling on its edge, our bodies angled toward each other, knees brushing in the quiet. Cade’s fingersgently swept a stray lock of hair from my face, his touch lingering on my cheek, warm and deliberate. “This place feels cozier with you here,” he murmured, his voice low, wrapping around me like a vow. I leaned in, our foreheads meeting, breaths mingling in the space between us. The air pulsed with an unspoken connection, a silent weave of desire and comfort that needed no words.
His fingers trailed to the buttons of my shirt, each one undone with a slow, careful pause. I mirrored him, my hands steady as I worked on the buttons of his shirt, our movements a quiet duet of consent and shared longing. His skin was warm beneath my touch, muscles tightening faintly under my fingertips. We eased back onto the bed, the sheets cool against our heated skin, a sharp contrast to the fire of our closeness. His hand traced the curve of my spine, drawing me nearer until no space remained between us. Our kisses deepened, each one a slow exploration, sealing the fragile trust blooming in the stillness.
In the vastness of the room, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight spilling through the skylight, we found intimacy not in grand declarations but in the tender geography of breath, touch, and heartbeat. It wasn’t about the act itself but the journey into each other’s worlds. Every brush of his fingers, every shared glance, felt like a step deeper into a space we were carving out together, where vulnerability was not a risk but a gift.
Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, words unnecessary in the hush of the moment. The house, once an echo of solitude, now hummed with the warmth of the space we’d created for each other. Our breathing slowed, synchronized, as the moonlight traced patterns across our skin. My fingers found his and they laced together, grounding us in the quiet.
Outside, the city murmured faintly, its distant pulse a reminder of the world beyond these walls. But here, in this cocoon of sheets and shared silence, time seemed to pause. Cade’s thumb brushed softly over my knuckles, a gesture so small yet heavy with meaning, as if he were memorizing the shape of this moment.
A single night really can shift the contours of everything.
The skylight framed a sliver of the night sky, stars faint but steady, and I thought of how we’d stumbled into this, two people navigating their own uncertainties until they collided here. His arm tightened around me, a silent promise that this wasn’t fleeting. In the stillness, with the world reduced to the rhythm of our breaths and the warmth of his skin against mine, I felt the weight of loneliness lift, replaced by the certainty that we were building something real, something that could hold.
How unexpected.How magical.
I could fall in love with this man.
