He's the One Jane Beckenham (best book recommendations .txt) 📖

way in the world. But you can't let go, can you? You want her to fit into that precise preconceived world of yours. You want her so-called perfect."

"That's enough.” Finally, her mother found her voice. Her face white with fury, gray eyes narrowed. “Taylor needs..."

"To be Taylor, Mrs. Sullivan. Let her do her own thing."

"That sounds like some psycho babble."

"No. She's just different. From you. From me. She is simply herself, Mrs. Sullivan. Taylor is herself. And that is more than enough."

Her mother pulled herself out of her chair, stiff and unyielding. Taylor could see by her steely expression that none of what Cade had said in her favor had sunk in. Florence Sullivan was too set in her ways, too rigid to understand.

"Rob was a dear family friend."

"I'm not doubting that. He was your great white hope, so to speak. You hoped to use him to ‘whip’ Taylor into shape. But he's dead. You can't keep using him every year to control your daughter."

"I think, Mr. Harper,” her mother spoke through thinned lips, “you had better go."

Taylor's gaze shifted downwards. Her mother had balled the napkin in one fist.

"Come on.” Cade grabbed her hand and tugged. “We're out of here."

"Taylor, dinner is served,” her mother cut in.

Dark, stormy eyes stared down into her face. Eyes that had burned brightly as he'd taught her, loved her, and now released her. Why did she feel she was in a tug of war, with her being the so-called piggy in the middle. Taylor stood and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. There was a stab of pain behind her eyes. “Another night, Mother. I think I had better go to."

"But Rob's anniversary."

"Cade's right. He's dead. I've got to go.” Turning on her heels she ran from the room, bypassed the row of deer heads that as a child had scared the living daylights out of her. She yanked open the front door and rushed outside, doubling over, hands resting on her thighs as her chest heaved and she struggled for oxygen.

"Get in."

Taylor lifted her head and peered through strands of hair that had fallen free.

"Taylor. Get in. Now."

Hauling herself upright, she reacted on auto-pilot and slid into the pickup. Before she'd even closed the door, Cade fired the engine and they were down the drive and around the first corner.

"Cade?"

"Don't say a word, Taylor. Not right now."

They came to a steep curve in the road, the narrowed entrance to Mt. Victoria.

"Why here?"

"I need to calm down. Think. Because believe me, I've never been so furious."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be, because it's you I'm angry with."

"Me?"

"Yeah. Why'd you let her do it, Taylor? Why'd you let her stifle you?"

"You didn't have to stick up for me,” Taylor rounded with indignation. She grabbed her bag, hugging it to her chest. It had become her talisman of protection where he was concerned.

"I know that, but how long were you prepared to play second fiddle to a dead man?"

"I..."

Cade brought the car to a halt at the edge of the lookout. It was dark, yet the night sky shone with the reflection of a million city lights bouncing against the inky darkness.

Enveloped by a numbing sadness, Taylor sucked in a steadying breath. “Sometimes, it was simply easier. When you've a Mensa IQ brother and sister, as well as your parents, and you're the odd one out, it's easier to think it doesn't matter and not rock the boat."

"But you did rock it. You started your business. That surely wasn't in their plans for you."

"No, it wasn't. After Rob died, they thought I'd just fall back into place again, But his death lit something else in me, a need to do what I wanted to do."

"So you started Creative Weddings."

"Something like that,” she agreed.

"Good on you."

A slow smile tilted the corners of Taylor's mouth. “Yeah, good on me.” Tiny at first, a tinkling sound erupted from her throat, then a full, hearty belly rumble brewed down deep, bubbling up until she couldn't hold it back any longer.

"No one has ever spoken to my mother like that."

"Tough. First time for everything."

"That's what got us here in the first place,” Taylor said softly.

"Mm.” Cade slid over the seat toward her and wrapped her in his arms. “Usually, after the first time, there's a second time."

"I think we've already had that,” she countered playfully, hands resting on his chest. She could feel the heat beneath her fingertips, the thrust of his pulse. She swallowed hard.

"Who's counting?"

"Not me."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

"This.” And his mouth claimed hers. Hot. Fast. Furious. And total. Gathered in his arms, Taylor felt as if she'd come home. This was what she had been waiting for. Not just for the last few days, but since forever.

"Delicious,” Cade murmured as his mouth moved over hers, hands in her hair. He pulled the pins from her hair. “I've been waiting all afternoon to do this.” In seconds, her hair cascaded around her shoulders. He buried his face in the loosened strands. “You smell of violets and roses."

"Very poetic."

"I am, aren't I?” he said, dotting tiny kisses along her eyelids.

Taylor sighed. This was beautiful and arousing. But it wasn't enough. She wanted more. “I want you, Cade. Inside me,” she whispered as her tongue lathed a sweet path along the curve of his ear, nipping his lobe.

She felt a tremor ripple through him.

"Here?"

"Anywhere.” Her hands fumbled with his shirt, pulling it free. Higher and higher. She smiled, sliding the tip of her tongue across her lips. His chest heaved, his breathing was labored. She'd caused that. It felt good. She had power over him. Sweet, delicious, sinful power.

Taylor hadn't realized how exciting sex in a confined space could be. The windows steamed up and her body zinged with unbridled anticipation.

"My turn, I believe,” Cade drawled. He slid the zip on the back of her dress down with infinite ease. “Oh, yeah!” His breath hung on the air, thick with promise, his