Convincing Cara (Wishing Well, Texas Book 2) (24 page)

“Oh, stop it!” She swatted my hand away and pointed the fork she’d been mashing potatoes with at me. “I am making perfect sense. You just don’t want to come clean.”

I shook my head, still totally lost.

Dropping her fork, she put her hands on her hips, which meant I was about to get a piece of her mind. “
She
is the girl I asked about in this very house while I was working on my Noah’s Ark puzzle.
She
is the girl who’s had you smiling like a fool every time anyone’s seen you lately.
She
is the girl who had you ‘zoned’ out when you should have been minding the lettuce.
She
is the girl you’ve been waiting for.
She
is the one.”

Well, damn. My mom had always been perceptive, but this was almost creepy. Even if she was right on all counts, Cara had made it very clear that she did not want
anyone
to know about us.

“Mom, I don’t know what you’re talking—”

“Seriously? Son, I was born, but I was not born yesterday. Let’s just go over the facts. Out of the blue, Cara has some mysterious boyfriend no one has met at the exact same time that you happen to be staying out at the ranch and no one sees you? It doesn’t take a genius to put the pieces together.”

She tilted her head towards me and lowered her voice. “Listen, whatever’s going on or not going on between you two is none of my business. But I want you to know that I’m
so
happy that you removed your head from your rear and
finally
did something about this.”

I really didn’t want her to get her hopes up. Things between Cara and me were…complicated. I wanted to un-complicate them, but I wasn’t sure how. The last thing I needed was my mom gettin’ carried away.

“Mom, it’s not what you think.”

“Yes, it is.” My mom’s stern voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes. “You’ve been in love with that girl since forever.”

Dolly Briggs was a lot of things, but a crier was not one of them.

I started to round the island to hug her. “Mom—”

She raised her hand to stop me. “No. Don’t. I’m fine.” She wiped beneath her eye with a napkin as she sniffed. “I just… It was hard seeing my baby boy have such strong feelings for a girl who was suffering as much as that poor, sweet girl did. There were quite a few nights, when the prognosis was not looking so good, that I had a few choice words for God and made it clear to him that we needed to be on the same page. My heart broke for Cara and Colton and the McCords. But also for
my
babies.

“I knew that, no matter what, Harmony would be okay. She would have been devastated, but she would have been okay. But you…you… Well, that sweet girl has been your
whole world
since she was still in pigtails, and if anything had happened, I just… I wasn’t sure if you could have…if you would have…”

Tears started falling one after the other down my mom’s cheeks.

Not able to take it, I rounded the corner and pulled her into my arms. “Mom, I’m fine. Cara’s fine. Everyone’s fine.”

I hated thinking that my mom had been so worried about me. It didn’t surprise me that my mom had known how I felt about Cara. That was kind of her thing. In fact, it was actually kind of amazing to me that no one else had picked up on it. The only thing that had shocked the hell out of me was that she’d been so concerned about me and not talked to me about it. Sure, I probably would have denied it. I mean, there actually
was
something happening now and I was still denying it. But still, to think she’d silently suffered broke my heart.

The swinging door squeaked and my sister walked through it. When she saw me holding our mom, she rushed in.

“What did you do? Why’s Mom crying?” Harmony scowled at me as she pushed between us and wrapped her arms around our mom.

“Leave your brother alone. He didn’t do anything. I’m just getting sentimental in my old age.” Mom pulled away from my sister and waved her hand dismissively before wiping her face with the napkin she held.

“You are
not
old!” Harmony argued.

I didn’t know if it was because Harmony was the baby, or if it was because she was a girl, or if it was because she was so close to my parents, but for whatever reason she hated when either of them talked about the fact that they were getting older.

My brothers Coop, Travis, Beau and Wyatt swarmed the kitchen in search of food seconds later. Mom put us all to work, and as she handed me the bowl to fill with the salad fixings I’d been working on, she winked at me.

“You take care of her, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered automatically.

There was no way, after that conversation, that I was still going to deny that something was happening between us. And, whether it ended up like I wanted, with us walking down the aisle, or not, promising to take care of Cara was a no-brainer. I would. Always.

Cara

“Most people worry about stuff that never happens.”

~ Dolly Briggs

H
ot showers had
always been one of my favorite things. Maybe it was because, for a long time, I hadn’t been allowed to take showers because I’d been too weak to stand unassisted. Or maybe it was because, when my body had been sore from treatments or I’d been limited to baths for months on end, I’d felt cleaner after taking one. Like I’d washed away all the sickness and had a fresh start. To me, showers were therapeutic to both my muscles and my emotions, and they always brightened my mood.

At least, they always
had
. Tonight, the experience was not holding its usual magic. I’d been taking a shower for the last ten minutes, and I was still miserable.

Ducking my head under the steaming spray of water, I sternly told myself that the pity party I was throwing needed to come to an end. Long ago, I’d learned that the town of Poor Me was never a good place to be. Things were how they were. Asking why was like jumping into a black hole of despair. Not only was it pointless, but it had the same qualities of quicksand and would suck you under and suffocate you.

Over the years, I’d gotten to what I considered pro level at stopping myself short of making the leap into the abyss of misery. No matter what hand I was dealt in life, I played it and hoped for the best.

But now, I found myself wishing I’d had different cards.

Trace was at his family’s Sunday dinner, and although he’d said that I was more than welcome, that he actually wanted me to be there, I’d decided to sit it out. Yesterday at the Spoon had proved that I didn’t have what it takes to play it cool, and that had just been around Destiny, Harmony, and Travis. At the dinner, the entire Briggs family would be in attendance, I’d never be able pass that kind of scrutiny without someone—Dolly!—seeing right through me. Nothing got past that woman.

Usually, I admired that quality, but in this situation, not so much. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see her. I loved Dolly. She had been a lot more nurturing than my own mother. But, with everything going on with Trace, I didn’t think I would have been able to look her in the eye.

So I’d stayed home. That was a decision that I’d made. But that didn’t mean I hadn’t been lonely and sad every second Trace had been gone. Not only did I not realize how much I’d gotten used to having him around and just plain missed him, but I was also feeling left out. Which was another fun byproduct of my childhood illness. For so much of my life, I hadn’t been able go to school, dances, the skating rink, or even the movies. I’d spent endless hours in bed at home and in hospitals, wishing I had been out with my friends.

This night had unearthed all of those old feelings I’d buried deep below the surface of my emotions. It wasn’t just Trace I was missing. It was both of my best friends. Now that JJ and Destiny were married, she was at every Briggs Sunday Dinner, and I was happy for her. I just wished that things could be different. That I could be there. With Trace.

But that was never going to happen. Trace should be with someone he didn’t have to worry about when they got a headache or a bloody nose. Someone he could have babies and a full life with. Even if, by some miracle, Trace did want more than just our friends-with-benefits relationship, it was impossible. He deserved better. And that was at the core of my sadness. I was grieving the loss of what could be.

“Stop it,” I murmured to myself in frustration as I reached to shut the water off deciding I needed to find a more effective form of therapy.

“Stop what?” Trace said behind me.

I jumped as my scream echoed through the glass enclosure.

Thankfully, Trace’s ninja skills were not limited to sneaking up on people. They also extended to his reflexes. If not for those, I would have ended up flat on my rear, with a very sore tailbone.

“Stop doing that!” I yelled breathlessly as I swatted his chest.

My heart was beating a mile a minute and I knew that it was partially due to the extra adrenaline the scare had produced. But I was pretty sure some of my pulse’s speed had to do with the fact that my wet, naked body was pressed up against Trace’s wet, naked body, and either there was a baseball bat between us, pushing against my hip, or he was
very
happy to see me.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I just saw you in the shower and needed to touch you. Sorry.” His eyes darkened as he repeated the word he must have said a hundred times the night before as he’d kissed every inch of my body.

Tingles spread from head to toe, and I knew I’d never be able to hear him apologize again without getting very,
very
turned on.

It also didn’t hurt that his hands were now gliding over my backside.

“What are you doing here? Is dinner already over?” Inside, I was jumping for joy, doing summersaults, cartwheels and backflips, but I tried not to let that show, considering Trace had only been gone a couple of hours.

Girls were always getting obsessed with Trace, trying to trap him in a relationship and make more out of the time he spent with them than it was. I had promised myself going into this that I would not be that girl. I mean, yes, I was obsessed with him, but he didn’t know that. And I’d made it clear from the beginning that I didn’t want a boyfriend or anything serious. Did I? Yes. But the point was he didn’t need to know that either.

“No, dinner’s not over. I left early.” His fingers were kneading me in an erotic massage.

“Why?” I asked, my voice smoky with passion.

“I missed you,” he answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

And maybe, for him, it was. He’d always been affectionate. With his family. With girls he dated. I tried really hard not to read too much into it, but it was getting more and more difficult each time he told me, which was every time we’d been apart for more than five minutes.

“I missed you too.” I ran my hands up his neck and threaded my fingers through his hair.

It was still amazing to me that I got to do that. That I could touch him. Kiss him. Hug him. It wasn’t going to last forever. In fact, Colton could be home any day. Even though we hadn’t specifically talked about an end date, my brother’s return was the clock striking midnight in my fairytale.

The coach would turn into a pumpkin. My dress would turn back to rags. And the horse would turn back to mice.

Soon, everything would go back to the way it had been. That reality lit a fire of urgency under me. Every time we’d been together, I’d let Trace take the lead, and it had been incredible. But I wanted to do some things, and I hadn’t because either I’d been too distracted in the heat of the moment or I hadn’t built up the courage to be that bold.

Now, I could practically hear the tick, tick, tick of my time running out. The countdown to the inevitable bubble that we’d been living in being popped gave me the courage I’d been lacking.

I’d seen and touched his body, but I hadn’t taken the time I wanted to explore it. Now, I seized that opportunity. I pressed my lips to the muscled planes of his chest and kissed across his taut skin. I tried to commit to memory the sensation of his heartbeat beneath my lips, the vibration of his moans, the rhythm of his chest rising and falling, and the sound of his breathing growing shallow as I traveled lower to his abs.

As I continued my erotic exploration over the rippling muscles of his torso Trace’s hands moved to my shoulders. His fingers flexed as he started to pull me up. If I didn’t do something within seconds, he’d take over and I’d lose my chance. With a boldness I hadn’t even known I was capable of, I shrugged out of his hold, placed my hands on
his
shoulders, and pushed him so his back was against the tile wall. His hands fell to his sides.

I took a page out of his alpha book, looked at him, and firmly instructed, “Stay.”

Lust, amusement, and a sprinkle of frustration glimmered in his golden gaze. His voice was strained as he brought his arms up and ran his hands through his wet hair, letting his head fall back against the shower wall. “You’re killing me.”

I took that as an agreement.

A surge of empowerment flowed through me as I lowered to my knees, bringing myself face-to-face with Trace’s manhood. In my new position, the spray was hitting Trace square in the chest, sending drips of water cascading down his virile form. My palms tingled and my mouth watered at the impressive sight.

I stared in awe, taking in all of Trace’s naked glory, momentarily paralyzed. Even in my lust-hazed state, I knew that my inexperience was the cause of my hesitation. I wasn’t exactly sure what I should do. It was easy when Trace was in the driver’s seat to buckle up and enjoy the ride. Now that I’d taken the wheel, I realized I had no idea where I was going or how to operate the vehicle.

“Cara, you don’t have to do this.” Trace’s rough voice filled the shower stall.

I peeked up at him, arousal mixing with embarrassment as I admitted, “No. I want to, I just don’t know what… I’ve never done this.”

Trace closed his eyes for a moment, and his jaw twitched as he exhaled through his nose. When he opened them, his voice was gentle as he explained, “Just do what feels good to you. You can’t mess this up, believe me. Anything you do is going to feel amazing. You’re not even touching me and I’m so fucking hard and turned on. Just seeing you on your knees, I’m about to come.”