Chapter 9

Cade stared at Hailey from the couch as she played a game of tic-tac-toe on her device. She'd been at it for fifteen minutes. At least she always won. "Can I play?"

In answer, she set the iPad down on the cushion between them and went first. Her hands flapped as her gaze darted over his shoulder.

He tapped the screen to place his X.

Without even seeming to look, she set her O.

This went on through three rounds, where she blocked his every move and won all three games. "You're ruthless. Good game, squirt."

She scrolled out of the app and swiped through others. The language one Avery mentioned popped up, and Cade remembered what she'd said last week about never hearing the words I love you. What he knew about autism could be put in a shoebox, but maybe he could... He didn't know. Maybe teach Hailey?

He rubbed the back of his neck and figured it wouldn't hurt to try. "What do you say we work on a project, just you and me?" He tapped the app and fished through some of the pictures. "Can you show me the I?"

She didn't seem to be listening, but after a few seconds she tapped the photo of the eye and a robotic voice said "eye."

"Rock on, squirt."

She flapped her hands and squealed.

He grinned. "Okay, show me a heart."

She repeated the process, taking her time, and tapped the picture, earning a voice that said "heart."

Not exactly "love," but close enough. "What about the letter U? Do you know your alphabet?" This one seemed to trip her up, so he swiped through the letters. "It's tricky, I know. Think of a smile. That's what the letter U looks like." When she didn't move, he hovered over the letter.

She pushed his hand away and tapped the U, the voice calling out her comment.

"You're a pretty smart cookie." He shifted a little closer, still respecting her space. "So that's how you tell your mom you love her. Eye, heart, you. Let's try it again."

Hailey backed out of the app and pulled up what looked like a neon coloring book. She dragged her finger over the screen, setting a bright pink line across the black background.

Clearly done with his lesson, he grinned and rolled with it. "You like to color?" He glanced at the fridge on the other side of the counter, but there were no pictures there. "Be right back."

He stepped down the hall into Hailey's bedroom, but after sifting through her toys, he couldn't find any crayons or paper. They'd just moved, so perhaps Avery hadn't unpacked them yet. Undeterred, he went to his car and fished in his glove box for the rainbow Sharpies he kept for charting and a legal pad he had in his trunk. Items in hand, he strode back into the cabin.

"Hey, squirt. Come in the kitchen for a sec."

Dutifully, she turned off her iPad after the slightest delay and seated herself at the table.

Setting the items in front of her, he pulled up a chair beside hers. "Want to color?"

She made no attempt to reach for the markers, so he grabbed one and uncapped it. She never glanced at him or the pad of paper as he drew a really terrible cartoon dog. When finished, he held it out for her, but she pushed it away.

"Not into coloring. Got it."

He glanced at the fridge again, remembering the one in his parents' kitchen growing up. It had been littered with drawings, report cards and, later, team schedules. Avery's was blank. Not even a grocery list.

Sighing, he eyed the girl again and her small hands planted on the table. "Can I trace your hands? Would you let me do that?" She didn't confirm nor deny. "I'm going to touch your wrist to move your hand, yeah? If you don't like it, let me know."

Watching her closely, he lifted her wrist, pushed the pad of paper over, and set her hand on top. When this didn't faze her, he bit the cap off a marker and leaned over. "Hold real still, squirt. I'm going to make a drawing of your hand."

Quickly, in case it bothered her, he traced an outline around her tiny fingers and sat back. To his utter shock, she set the other hand on the paper, too. He did that one as well.

"Should we have a look? Lift 'em up."

Hailey was neither ecstatic nor bored by what he'd done. She simply got up from the table unenthusiastically and went back into the living room, turning the device back on and settling on the couch.

"Right. Scratch coloring from the agenda."

He scrawled her name on the paper and the date. Since Avery didn't have any magnets, he'd hunted up some tape from a drawer and secured the drawing to the fridge. He glanced at the clock.

"Hey, squirt. Time to turn on your sleepy show."

After poking his head over the back of the couch to make sure she complied, he let the dogs out and sat next to her. No wonder this was a bedtime ritual. The video was dragging his eyes closed. Cartoon sketches danced and swirled to drone, soothing music until finally, blessedly, the credits rolled.

He cued her to go potty, covering his eyes while she did, and then waited for her to brush her teeth. Leaning against the doorway, he couldn't get his mind off how the kid was so well behaved. Unless she didn't understand his directions, she pretty much did whatever was asked.

Cade and his brothers had been hellions at her age, always getting into mischief, to which his parents only knew the half. Girls must be tamer by nature. He figured even if Hailey were verbal, she'd still be quiet and cooperative.

Like her mom.

There were pitfalls, too. He had to refrain from tucking her hair behind her ear when it fell in her face, since she didn't like touch, and more than once he'd had to fist his hands to avoid pulling her in for a hug. The lack of eye contact and seemingly distracted nature of her condition made her hard to read. He was beginning to catch on to her slight mannerisms, though.

After an hour of just one-on-one with the girl, he was beginning to get sick of the sound of his own voice. He wondered how Avery had done this for eight straight years. To never have a conversation, a verbal response most take for granted, could be disheartening. But when he could pull a laugh from Hailey, awkward as the sound was, or when she flapped her hands and squealed in delight, that was really something. He'd had to work hard at it, but it was all the more rewarding.

She dutifully went to her bedroom after rinsing her mouth. Tucking her in, he set Seraph on the bed beside her and called Freeman out with a whistle. Unlike last week, Hailey closed her eyes and didn't fight him.

"'Night, squirt." Leaving the door ajar, he made his way down the hall, grabbed some charts he brought in need of dictation, and plopped on the couch.

But after ten minutes, the words blurred in front of him as he kept remembering the expression on Avery's face when he'd first arrived. She looked like she'd been slapped upside the head, her pretty lips parted and her unfocused brown eyes wide. A sleepover for Hailey, a normal girly ritual, a right of passage, had put that awe on her face.

Giving up on the charts, he made his way into the kitchen to start a pot of decaf, since Avery would be back any minute. When it was brewing, he opened the fridge to grab creamer, and stilled.

She had a six-pack of beer in the door. He stared at the bottles of his favorite brand, trying to remember if she drank the stuff. The only time he'd seen her drink had been the one night at Shooters, and she'd had wine.

He closed the fridge and rubbed his neck. Jokingly last week, after discussing the Hailey milk incident, he'd told Avery he preferred beer. Had she taken him literally? His gaze landed on the door again, and he knew she had. Hell, she'd bought him beer.

Unsure what to make of this as it seemed such an intimate act, he went back to his charts until she came in the kitchen door and set her purse down on the table.

He rose from the couch and walked closer. "Hey. How was your meeting?"

She'd changed out of her professional work clothes before she left, but he got a better look now. Her jeans were faded at the stress points, molding her curves, and the plain blue tee barely skimmed below the waistband. He'd bet if he asked her to reach high for something, he'd catch a peek of bare skin.

She laughed, drawing him back to her face. "I'll give your aunt this, when she wants something, she's tenacious. Marie not only got the post office onboard for the admirer note exchange, she's got the rec center kids thinking it's a top secret mission."

Leaning against the counter, he crossed his arms. "Sounds like it was productive then."

She hummed in her throat and glanced at the coffeepot. After staring at it for a few moments, an unreadable expression on her face, she blinked. "How was Hailey?" She glanced down the length of him. "I see she didn't get sick this time."

"Ha. No, we survived. She kicked my ass in tic-tac-toe."

Her grin stopped his heart. "She's quite good at that game. Let me just peek in on her. I'll be right back."

As she disappeared, he poured them each a cup of coffee and settled at the table to wait. When she came back, she eyed the cups and turned for the fridge, freezing in place with her hand mid-air over the handle.

And he found himself holding his own breath.

---

Avery swallowed hard, unable to tear her gaze from the paper on her fridge with the outline of her daughter's tiny hands. She recognized Cade's distinctive handwriting below them from his charts, the block letters and scratch.

"Tried to get her to color, but she wouldn't." The rough, quiet timbre of his voice held an edge of uncertainty.

"No," she breathed. "She doesn't like it. The therapists tried getting her to attempt it several times. She'll do it on the iPad sometimes."

He grunted. "Are you going to stare at that all night?"

Concern laced his tone, so she turned. He studied her with solemn eyes, his brow furrowed just enough to make out his uneasiness. Was he worried she'd be mad?

She pointed to the picture. "That's her first art project."

He opened and closed his mouth, but ultimately said nothing.

"I have a few stored away from teachers and therapists, but they were wielded with them holding her hand. Nothing just from her."

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "That's not original, either. I traced her hands."

Since he wouldn't understand this was unique, that he'd put her daughter's hands to something in the only way she'd allow, she opened the fridge and grabbed the creamer. She walked to the table and sat next to him, thinking first thing tomorrow, she'd buy a frame for that simple, endearing paper taped to her fridge.

Silence stretched as they sipped their coffee, until he finally cleared his throat. "So Hailey has a sleepover next Friday, yeah? Are you going to get a wink of sleep?"

This dragged a laugh from her, which she assumed was his goal. "Most likely not. She's never been away from home. I'll probably need a sedative not to call a hundred times."

His smile was sigh-worthy. "April is good people. Hailey will be safe with her." He leaned forward and scratched his jaw. "She and her husband moved here something like ten years ago. Nice family."

Avery got the same impression, but said nothing.

He shook his head, grin widening into swoon-worthy territory. "You'll still pace the floors with worry."

She nodded and looked away before she climbed over the table to lick him. "I'll still pace the floor with worry," she confirmed. Then, she placed her palm to her forehead and laughed at how well he knew her after such a short time. Crazy, that. Even more insane was how easy he was to be around.

"Avery."

She glanced up.

His smile slipped, his gaze falling to her mouth. He muttered something unintelligible, kicked his foot out, and wrapped his leg around the rung of her chair. Slowly, he dragged her chair in front of his until their knees bumped, his gaze never leaving hers. He leaned forward, not touching her, but the heated desire in his eyes was an instant bolt of contact.

She let out an uneven breath. "What are you doing?"

"Honest to God, I don't know." After his whispered confession, his gaze took her in-her hair, her eyes, her mouth-as if trying to figure it out. "I never know what the hell I'm doing around you." His lips parted like he wanted to say more, but he just shook his head and pressed his mouth to hers.

Like the first time he'd kissed her, he brushed her lips with a tender caress, cajoling her into joining him. The unfamiliar contact was a mere blink of uncertainty before fire flared in her belly. Spread. Consumed. She breathed in his scent of male and fabric softener, but it didn't ground her as she'd hoped.

"Been wanting to do that all week," he said against her mouth. "Kiss me back, Avery. Like you mean it. Give me some idea you're as-"

She sealed her lips to his, tilting her head to probe at a different angle. Parting her lips, she tentatively licked his lower lip, hoping he'd open. On a groan, he complied, and when their tongues finally met for the first time, something inside her snapped. Control and reason broke free of their leash and disappeared. Her hands fisted in the thick softness of his hair.

He sucked air through his nose and, never breaking the kiss, dropped his hands to her thighs and squeezed. A bolt of need shot straight to her core, causing an ache she hadn't experienced in too long, if ever.

Oh... His hands were on the move, sliding under her thighs. He lifted her from her chair as if she weighed nothing and deposited her in his lap to straddle him, bringing their chests flush. His hard to her soft.

He tore away to press his mouth to her throat, gulping air in tandem with her attempts to do the same. "Slow down," he murmured against her skin, even as his tongue darted out to lick her pounding pulse.

A shiver ripped through her body, his touch lighting her nerves, but she unclenched her fingers from his hair and eased back a smidgen to adhere to his request.

"Not you." He held her hips. "I was talking to myself."

He lifted his head to look in her eyes, his drugged with the same fever. Then his mouth was pressed to hers again, kissing her blind. Desperate. Her breasts grew heavy, aching to be touched, so she crushed them to the hard wall of his chest to alleviate the throbbing. But then other parts began to throb, and the urge to grind into the thick bulge between them was almost feral.

She whimpered into his mouth, needing...something. Him? He groaned in response, his hands moving north to play with the hem of her shirt. His warm fingers dipped beneath on their way to her ribs, and she tensed.

He stopped on a dime, sensing her shift. Slowly, he drew back far enough to look in her eyes. "Sorry. Too fast. Thought and reason aren't really processing just now." Though coarse with need, his voice was quiet, apologetic, making her fumble to formulate an explanation.

"It's just..." She hadn't been touched in God knew how long and the hard pecs below her palms were a direct contrast to her rounded curves. He was all edges and yum and she...wasn't.

"Just what?"

"I haven't had the time to do a lot of exercise or my usual yoga, and I might not be in the best shape, or what you're used to." She pinched her eyes closed as heat flared in her cheeks.

When he didn't say anything for several erratic beats, she peeked. His jaw was clenched and his blue eyes glacial. Her heart stuttered to a halt.

"I swear, if you tell me that asshole ex of yours called you fat, or so much as implied it, I'm driving to where he is to beat the shit out of him. Tonight."

Air seeped from her lungs. She'd had a hard time losing the baby fat after delivering Hailey, but she'd worked hard because the disgust in Richard's eyes had been palpable. But getting back to her target weight hadn't mattered in the long run because he'd sought someone much thinner and prettier from his office for his gratification. The betrayal and hurt, even after all this time, cut deep.

If she hadn't been enough to satisfy Richard, and they'd been college sweethearts bringing little experience to the relationship, how was she supposed to believe she could do so for Cade, who had worlds of knowledge and a trail of women in his wake?

"What's his address?" Cade ground, drawing her gaze back to his.

Her stomach rolled, and she looked away. "It wasn't him."

Richard wasn't to blame. No matter how he'd treated her, she was responsible for believing him or not. It was her old ghosts screwing with her head, and she thought she'd gotten over them.

Cade had been into it moments ago. His heart was still pounding beneath her palm, though she suspected that was in anger now and not lust. But his erection said he'd been turned on, too. Yet she'd doused that flame with reality, and the moment was lost.

"Avery-"

"No, it's okay." She climbed off his lap and he winced. From the loss of contact or something else, she couldn't tell. "It's getting late, anyway."

He stared at her a few more seconds and rose, whistling for Freeman. Cade stepped into his shoes and walked into the living room. The dog strode into the kitchen and waited by the back door while she made herself busy by rinsing out their cups at the sink.

She didn't turn when Cade came back, but his gaze bore holes into her. She gripped the counter as he sidled up behind her, setting a small stack of charts down by her hand.

"Look at me."

She shook her head, her stomach knotting. This was a bad idea to get involved with him. He was a playboy who probably just saw the challenge in her. If things at the clinic became uncomfortable because of this flash romance, she'd have a hard time finding another position. People already figured she got her current job by sleeping with Cade. Plus, she had enough on her plate, had been burned enough to know better.

Yet she couldn't deny the pull, the flutter in her stomach when she was around Cade. He managed to make her feel giddy again. Hopeful.

Cade ignored her denial and turned her to face him. His eyes sharpened in understanding, his mouth a thin line. "I'm not him."

She sighed. No, he wasn't anything like Richard, and to even compare the two was an insult to Cade. "I know. I think I just need time to get used to having someone interested again. Been a long time." She laughed nervously and tried to step away.

He put an arm out to stop her. "I'm interested. Make no mistake about that."

She lifted her gaze to his, and the breath punched from her chest. With dizzying absolution, she was positive no one had ever looked at her with the same desire and patience. And this thing between them had the potential to hurt her more than anything her ex had ever attempted.

Cade leaned in and kissed her. It was a gentle meeting, not passion-filled or hungry, and somehow that tripped her pulse more than what they'd done earlier.

Easing back, he looked into her eyes. "I wasn't going to take tonight any further than what we were doing. I'll go as slow as you want. Just do me a favor and push him from your head when we're together, yeah?"

Before an intelligent response could squeak past her lips, he grabbed his charts and was gone.