The Legacy of Buchanan's Crossing (23 page)

Todd took a long sip of what was sure to be a gin and tonic. “Ah, I see. Ambitious.”

Muriel blinked. “It’s only fair to warn you. At this point in time, our daughter is not due to inherit anything.” She added, a second too late, “From us.”

Cayden mentally filed that little pause.

After another long sip, Todd said, “We had to cut her off. Completely irresponsible. She’s been expelled from every proper school on the eastern seaboard, from Dartmouth to Harvard to Yale to Columbia to Princeton to Georgetown to Duke. Name one, and they’ve given her the boot. Dismissed from all the prep schools, too. If it wasn’t for her inherited intelligence, fencing talent, and my—”

“Precious money,” Cayden supplied.

“I was going to say ‘affiliations’—”

“With. Money,” Cayden enunciated.

Todd didn’t even glance at her. “It would have been impossible following the first three incidents. As it was, well, I’ve done what I could. I’d love to have her on the fencing team, but she’s not interested. She refuses to assume the smallest responsibilities. We just don’t know what will become of her.”

Clint jerked back in his chair. “From what I’ve seen, nothing could be further from the truth. And excuse me, sir, but it’s hardly fair to blame your daughter for everything. I’m aware of extenuating circumstances at Cornell, for example.”

“I’m afraid I don’t find anything extenuating in the explosion of a half-dozen laboratories.”

Clint leaned forward in his chair. “I was referring to the fact that she was attacked by another student, and the university administration didn’t do anything about it.”

Todd frowned. “Attacked?” He raised his glass and sipped. “Oh, yes, I remember. She always had an excuse. I’m sure she exaggerated. As Muffy said, she’s quite dramatic. Pity she didn’t have an interest in the theater. I’m sure they would have been cheaper to replace than engineering and chemistry laboratories.”

Cayden glanced across the table and discerned the new awareness in Clint’s eyes. She gave him a thin-lipped non-verbal,
I told you so
.

She’d didn’t get to hear Clint’s response because Muriel signaled for the salads to be served. For the duration of the meal, conversation died down to Muriel talking while Todd stared at her, nodding. Clint focused on his food. She shoved hers around her plate with the fork. Only his presence made it different from any meal she’d shared with Todd and Muriel. She’d have asked the kitchen for a bowl of Ben & Jerry’s if she wouldn’t have minded Clint hearing Muriel’s inevitable snide remark regarding her size and the availability of fat-free desserts.

The dishes were no sooner cleared and beverages served, with Clint switching to coffee, when Muriel said, “Cayden, sweetheart, it’s time we speak about your grandmother and her little cottage.”

Cayden strained to keep her voice level. “What about it? When Gran gets out of the hospital—”

“
If
she gets out of the hospital. You simply must face facts. Your grandmother has been in a coma for a week. She may never wake up. Even if she does, she’s not going to be able to look after herself, much less the house.”

“She will wake up, and she won’t be alone. She hasn’t been alone. As you well know, I’ve been—”

Muriel ran right over her as usual. “Sell the place. It would be best for your grandmother and for you. You certainly aren’t capable of maintaining it. You can scarcely take care of yourself.” She ran a long-nailed fingertip up and down her glass casually, unaware it was one of her tells. “I understand there’s been an offer, a generous one, that expires in a few weeks. You have her power of attorney. With your grandmother in her present condition, the deadline could pass and the opportunity would be squandered. It would be so typical of you.”

Cayden glanced at Todd. For what may have been the first time she didn’t have a fencing foil in her hand, he was watching her intently. It didn’t take a great deal of imagination to ascertain where Muriel had come by her information. The Cumberlands must be getting desperate. What she didn’t understand was how Muriel and Todd could be so unmistakably vested. It wasn’t as if they had anything to gain from a sale, unless—

“What did he offer you?” This time, she failed to keep her voice level. It erupted at just under a scream.

Clint flinched. Neither Muriel nor Todd twitched a single facial muscle, their frozen expressions a tell they both shared.

“What did who offer us?” Muriel appeared indignant enough to fool almost anyone. “My mother has not seen fit to leave me a dime. It’s not as if we want for money. Honestly.” She employed her most-long suffering sigh and looked at her husband. “Why is it inconceivable that I should want what’s best for my own mother and daughter?”

“Honesty? You want honesty? I’ll give you honesty,
Mother
.” She poured all of her anger and frustration into the words.

“Cayden, sweetheart, we’d take care of your grandmother,” Muriel said in that fake-soothing, patronizing voice some adults use on children. “There are splendid homes. You wouldn’t have to worry about her any longer. We know you could use the money. Your cousin Trip mentioned a fencing studio for needy children, and there’s that horrible apartment of yours.”

“I like my condo. The studio’s fine. The kids aren’t needy, they just aren’t rich,” Cayden gritted out between clenched teeth. “Let’s get back to that ‘honesty.’ What do you and Todd get if you can convince me to sell Gran out?” Both her pitch and volume had risen considerably by the last word.

Muriel and Todd exchanged even more telling glances. Todd nodded smugly at Clint. “You see what we mean by dramatic now, don’t you, MacAllen?”

Cayden was so furious by then she couldn’t fathom why her recalcitrant power hadn’t thrown the entire Boston metropolitan area into a blackout. Yet the dining room chandelier hadn’t so much as flickered. Muriel took a sip of her meal-appropriate chardonnay. Cayden yearned to throw it in her face.

Then it happened. Contrary to the mild tilt of the glass and the law of gravity, its contents instantaneously, and completely, emptied onto Muriel’s face. Cayden would never forget her mother’s wide-eyed shock beneath the rivulets of wine.

Robert scurried for something to clean up the mess. Muriel patted her face with the linen napkin and muttered how badly Cayden had upset her.

Oh, she’d upset Muriel, all right. Todd was buying the cover-up, and Clint, being Clint, would too. But she knew what had happened, and so did Muriel.

Cayden hadn’t noticed him rise, but Clint was standing when he said, “Speaking of what is best for everyone, I’m sure Cayden is considering all of the alternatives.”

“Are you crazy? I’d never—”

Suddenly his hand was on her arm, and his calm, controlled expression halted her invective mid-sentence. “As I was about to say, I think it’s best we were leaving. Mrs. Sinclair.” He nodded at Muriel. “Mr. Sinclair. It’s been…enlightening. Thank you for your generous hospitality. Enjoy your afternoon and your beautiful house.”

With that, he marched her out the door. Cayden didn’t know whether to smack him for interrupting her or kiss him for getting her out of there before she did something she might actually regret. Muriel didn’t have a history of quitting when she was behind.

“Okay, I’ll give you a full six-point touchdown for your warning, even if it was understated. But you have to give me three points for the scotch and the food. They were awesome.”

In spite of her pique, Cayden grinned at Clint’s novel use of football scoring. “Not unless I receive an additional three points, since I much prefer your mother’s cooking and the scotch is lost on me.”

He readjusted the seat. The chauffeur, substantially shorter than Clint, had forgotten. “I’m not saying my mom isn’t a great cook, it’s just…”

“That you were sucked in by the whole pretentious facade. Admit it.”

He shrugged and put the truck in gear. “Only someone who grew up in a palace eating gourmet food and beverages delivered by servants wouldn’t be impressed.”

“Staff,” Cayden corrected.

“Oh, excuse me, ‘staff.’ Thank you for making my case.”

When they drove past the gate, Cayden sighed in relief. “Tell me you at least understand why growing up there was so awful for me.”

Clint tucked his lips into his mouth, then blew them out in a half raspberry. “Oh yeah, I totally get that. I thought I had a clue, but your mom was worse than I expected. Your dad, though…” He shook his head. “My dad may be a hard ass. But yours, he doesn’t even seem to—”

“Care?” Cayden finished.

“Maybe I just don’t know the guy well enough to recognize it. I mean, he’s your dad, he must love you. Maybe he copes with your wardrobe and school problems by pretending he doesn’t give a damn.” He glanced over at her. “Did you really blow up a bunch of labs?”

“Not on purpose. I told you I haven’t had much of control over my magic. Electronics and mechanics are my interests; the chemistry was mandatory, and frustrating.”

“Right.” He paused. “Listen, Cayden, don’t take this the wrong way, but have you ever considered they might have a point?” He took a hand off the steering wheel and held it up. “Wait, before you stab me with one of your tricky weapons, I agree both of your parents treat you like shit. I don’t blame you a bit for not wanting to be around them. Still, if you would look at it from their side, well, you can be pretty dramatic. And the, uh, magic thing has to be tough on them.”

“Did you notice how Todd looks at Muriel? How he acts as if I’m not even there?”

“Kind of hard to miss. He’s obviously crazy about her. I think it’s sweet. I mean, except for the ignoring you part.”

Cayden wasn’t sure why she’d gone down this road, but they were already on it. “It’s a charm. She used up all of her magic on a charm to make him fall for her.”

Clint was staring straight ahead. Cayden could almost see him selecting and discarding words. “Right. I can understand why you’d want an explanation for the lack of attention while you were growing up. I really can. I understand a lot of things now.”

Great, he thought she’d conjured a magical explanation for her childhood neglect. Well, she’d brought it on herself. Protesting would only make it worse.

He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “The important thing is not to allow your emotions to influence your business decisions. Sentimentality is not a sound basis for fiscal management. I grew Green Man to what it is today by using my head, not my heart.”

“I don’t buy that for one minute. Every decision we make is based on our past experiences and the emotions attached to them, whether we recognize them or not. I am fully aware of the reasons I won’t sell Buchanan’s Crossing. That’s what we’re really talking about, isn’t it? You’re on their side, aren’t you?” The words tasted as bitter as they felt.

“I’m on your side, damn it. But your mom’s right. Selling the place would be best for everyone. It’s going to be a long time, if ever, before your grandmother will be able to live on her own again. It will definitely take more than a month, the offer will expire, and you’ll both have lost out. Developers are pretty damn good at getting what they want. If you don’t sell, you’re likely to lose both the place and the chance to get decent money for it.”

“The deadline is meaningless. And I can help Gran, same as I have been.”

“Except it won’t be how it has been. Coming out of the hospital, she’s going to need a lot more care than she has in the past, especially at first. If you sell the place, you wouldn’t have to work at HandiMart to pay for health insurance. Then, you’d have more time to spend at the school, more time to work on the cool stuff you have such a talent for, and still have lots to spend with your grandmother.” He glanced over at her, then turned back to the road. “And me. I love coming home to you every night.”

His last words gave her hope, tempting her to forgive him for the rest. What could she say, anyway? Telling him why she wouldn’t sell Buchanan’s Crossing was pointless. He’d just think it was more of her imaginative coping mechanism.

In frustrated silence, she watched her kind, sexy, exceedingly pragmatic boyfriend concentrate on the treacherous merge with I-90 and wondered what kind of future they could share.

“Hey, I was just thinking. You look fantastic and we could both use some fun after that.” He hooked his thumb behind them “Why don’t we go out? It’s too early to hit a club, but the Red Sox will be on screen at O’Malley’s, the bar the crew and I hang out at. We wouldn’t have to watch. It’ll be busy though, loud and distracting.”

Cayden couldn’t believe it. “Did I hear you correctly? You want to take me to a sports bar? Where your friends will be?”

“Too lame?”

She shook her head and laughed. “I was thinking more along the lines of brave, on your part. On account of me being—”

“On account of you being so goddamn smoking hot, some dumb jock might get himself hurt trying to grab you.”

Clint certainly was becoming good at peace offerings.

Chapter Fourteen

T
he drive out to East Granby was taking forever. He’d kept himself to a beer an hour at the celebration with his crew. Still, Clint wasn’t going to risk speeding in the rain, no matter how much of a hurry he was in to pick Cayden up and get her back to the apartment.

It was hard to believe a month had passed since he’d met Cayden’s parents and taken her to O’Malley’s. The second part of that day had gone a lot better than the first. Bill’s being there had helped. Everybody liked and trusted his second-in-command. When Bill had greeted Cayden with shy friendliness, eagerly pulling out a chair for her, the rest had followed his lead.

Cayden had been warm and funny once she got over her nervousness, had charmed the hell out of them. There’d been plenty of appreciative glances, more than a few stunned ones, yet no one had treated her with anything less than respect. He didn’t think it was all due to the fact she was the boss’s girlfriend, but he was still taken off guard when they’d asked about her tonight.

It had been quite a party. They’d have finished ahead of schedule if a month of near-constant rain hadn’t slowed construction considerably. As it was, meeting Dean’s deadline had required OT and prayers, and a worthy bash.

The long hours and non-existent weekends had taken their toll on his relationship. With her grandmother still in the coma, Cayden had ignored his protests and gone back to the graveyard shift at HandiMart, taking the train out to East Granby to look after Dr. Buchanan’s mean old tom cat every morning. She came home and slept until he got back from work. Damn, but climbing those stairs to find a lush, naked, sexy-drowsy Cayden was the highlight of his day. He’d taken to making a sandwich prior to waking her so he wouldn’t need supper until much later.

They only had a few hours together each day before he drove her to work, then went to bed at his place, alone—the low point of each day. Without Cayden in his arms, the insomnia and uneasy feeling of something being off had returned. In addition, he had her possible pregnancy to worry over. Not that they’d talked about it. They didn’t talk about a whole lot these days. Too much was left unsaid; too much went unresolved.

He shook his head and exited I-91. Most men would be thrilled to have a relationship consisting of outrageously fantastic daily sex, home-cooked dinners, and no meaningful conversation. Hell,
he
should be.

In less than five minutes, he’d see her for the first time in over twenty-four hours. No matter how much it freaked him out to admit it, he wanted more than just a hot night in bed with her, and he wanted that pretty damn badly. But he also wanted to talk, really talk.

Cayden was pleasantly surprised by the enthusiasm of Clint’s embrace as he lifted her into the truck, a habit she couldn’t bring herself to break him of. His kiss was deep enough to melt her bones. She was tempted to drag him up to the grove for a repeat of the Joining. It wouldn’t be necessary, she knew that now, but oh, it would be good.

He surprised her again by pulling back. The moon bathed his handsome face, revealing his unusually intense expression.

“Cayden, we need—” He broke off. “God, you’re beautiful. The way the light plays—” He interrupted himself again and frowned. “Wait, when did the moon come out? It was raining a few minutes ago.”

She was sure he’d been going to say they needed to talk. The sudden switch from that to a compliment to the weather made her suspect he was trying to break up with her, but didn’t know how. The last couple of weeks had been strained, except for their wildly
un
restrained lovemaking. Wonderful as it was, it wasn’t enough. Tensions had been rising due to the nature of the topics they avoided.

“It cleared up when I began preparations for the ritual.” After she’d emphatically wished it would. Another addition to the better-left-unsaid list. “This isn’t about Nevermore, is it? Has he been harassing you while I’m at work?”

“Nah. Other than a single daily deposit on the driver’s side of the windshield here.” Clint tapped the glass in front of him. “I wouldn’t even know he’s around.”

He didn’t sound too annoyed, so that wasn’t it. She decided she wasn’t up for a heavier confrontation and waded back to safer ground. “Did you have fun at O’Malley’s with your crew?”

“Yeah. Missed you, though. Some of the guys asked why you weren’t there. I wasn’t sure what to say you were busy doing.”

“Of course you weren’t.” Evidently no subject was safe.

He must have picked up on her tone. “You’re not mad I had to celebrate with the crew tonight, are you? I thought you understood.”

“I’m not mad, just tired.” Especially of this side-stepping dance.

“Say, my offer to drive you to the hospital whenever you want stands. We could visit your grandmother after I show you the mall tomorrow.”

The offer implied he didn’t intend to dump her, at least not tonight. He was trying to be nice. Still, she was unable to stop herself from saying, “As I keep telling you, there’s no point; she’s not there. She was with me tonight in the grove.”

The statement had been a small risk, nothing outrageous. Yet the silence grew and twisted, unrelieved by the swishing of the windshield wipers as they pulled onto the freeway and the rain resumed.

She was idly wondering whether it was raining at the Crossing now too when Clint cleared his throat and said, “That reminds me. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

The tone of his voice, the way he was staring straight ahead, gripping the steering wheel, were all far from reassuring. A big ugly shoe was poised to drop.

“About what?”

“The developer’s offer for your grandmother’s place expires next week. I’ve been kind of afraid to bring it up. When it comes down to it, though, I can’t stand by and let you make a big mistake.”

A mixture of relief and sadness, seasoned with a pinch of anger, washed over her. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, needed to tell him, couldn’t tell him, because…

“You’re no different than Muriel. There’s no use in talking to you about anything because if it doesn’t fit your little world view, you won’t listen.” Which is why she’d not-quite-accidentally burned another of Muriel’s notes without even bothering to show it to him.

“Hey! I am nothing like either of your parents. This is exactly what I was afraid of. You’re a grown, intelligent woman. Why is it so impossible to reason with you? I can’t spend my life tiptoeing around every damn subject that might have you hissing like that ugly old tom and making just as much sense.” His voice wasn’t raised, but his tone was sharp.

She teetered on the edge of outrage before sliding back down into gloom. Her throat felt like she’d swallowed the silence and it was twisting inside her now.

It took a few miles for the words to push their way past the lump stuck in her throat. “Nobody’s asking you to.”

“Well, look what happens when I don’t. There are situations we need to discuss, Cayden, like adults. You don’t want to sell your grandmother’s house, I get that. But things don’t always work out the way we want them to.”

Clint, busy parking and being the pragmatist he was, had missed her meaning.

She whispered hoarsely, “No, they don’t.”

He went very still. Some of the twisting silence must have spilled out, because she heard him swallow.

“You’d better not be talking about us. Christ, Cayden, I—”

And then his lips were on hers, all hot and hard. She hadn’t heard him unbuckle his seat belt, hadn’t had time to unbuckle hers. His hands on her were rough and demanding as they shoved beneath her cape and grasped her bare shoulders.

She craved them on her breasts, but his strong fingers remained where they were, pinning her in place as he relentlessly plundered her mouth.

By the time he drew back, they were both panting heavily and Cayden was dazed. She was still dazed when he came to the other side of the truck and lifted her out.

She wasn’t at all certain her knees would hold when he set her down. She needn’t have worried. He didn’t. His effortless juggling of her and the keys at first the building door, then the apartment door, dispelled the notion he might be drunk.

Instead, she was the one who laughed uncontrollably. Clint tensed around her.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was thinking the last five minutes would make a good sobriety test.”

His body relaxed. He smiled against her cheek. “That giggle of yours drives me crazy. I’ve missed it.”

“Clint, I—”

“Shh, not tonight. Tomorrow will be a holiday for us. I can’t wait to show you the mall. We’ll have all day to talk. Just promise me you’ll be reasonable.”

He preempted her protest with a kiss that could melt platinum. She promptly forgot how interesting it would be if that kind of heat were readily available outside of a kiss by Clint, because he did it again, while he was stripping her out of her cape and unzipping her long dress.

The faint tang of beer was overwhelmed by the raw taste of his hunger, as her mind was overwhelmed by her body’s instant liquid response to it. She had no defense against the onslaught of his need, or her own.

The thick calluses of his hands rasped her sensitized skin in a frenzy, his mouth burning, bruising, wherever it touched. Half-carried, half-dragged, Cayden found herself spread out on her empty work table at the back of the apartment.

Just enough light came through the window behind her to see his fingers reach for his zipper and fumble with the condom in his haste. Gripping her thighs, he pulled her toward him. His thumb circled the silk panel of her panties, tapping maddeningly until she bucked. His white devil’s smile gleamed as he yanked it aside and plunged inside her.

Rather than savaging her as she’d expected, he held her there, suspended between pleasure and near-violence-inducing anticipation. When he did move, it was with bone-jarring, powerful, yet agonizingly slow, strokes. Cayden tightened her thighs around him, attempting to encourage a quicker, more satisfying rhythm. Clint was having none of it. He halted again.

She would have said something if their silence hadn’t become sensual, an intensifying extension of the other sensations. She unhooked the front clasp on her bra purchased specifically for his benefit. He immediately released his death grip on her hips to descend on her breasts, allowing her to ratchet up the momentum.

Not much later, she’d wonder if it had been a mistake. It was as if a critical underlying line of restraint had snapped, for both of them. The savage took over, forcing her incrementally across the thankfully smooth table, only to be tugged back for the next devastating series of thrusts, each one stringing her tighter, higher.

Clint’s desperation pierced more than her body. The velocity of their reckless headlong rush into the climax of both their lives stripped Cayden of her last vestiges of self-preservation. The explosion echoed in the trembling of her entire body in its aftermath.

There were, however, no apparent electrical repercussions.

Clint collapsed on top of her. The salty masculine scent and taste of a hard day’s work on his skin should have simply reminded her that he’d not had a chance to shower. Instead, it filled her with a deep longing to keep him inside her forever.

“That’s what makes it possible for the lights, along with most of the heating and cooling, to run completely off the solar panels.” Clint pulled into the empty parking lot and turned off the ignition. He glanced at Cayden. She’d been listening to him attentively, with a sort of hopeful fragility in her eyes that tugged at a new rawness in his chest.

“Wow. It’s beautiful. And I never thought I’d be saying
that
about a shopping mall. It’s so…green.” She laughed and he felt the warmth down to his toes. Her giggle might drive him crazy, but her laugh was pure magic. “So the majority of the spaces are already rented? C’mon, show me how…”

He couldn’t hear the rest since she’d hopped out and slammed the truck door. She didn’t seem to mind the fine drizzle making the snug little black dress she was wearing cling even more tightly to her swaying hips. It wasn’t long enough to impede her progress. Shit, it was barely long enough to cover her mesmerizing ass.

He’d known she’d like the mall, what with her bed in the middle of that greenhouse up in her loft and her aptitude for engineering. He’d wanted that unbridled enthusiasm of hers, needed it, for his own satisfaction. Especially after Dean had appeared so unimpressed and ready to move on to the next project: the big secret he was finally going to reveal at the meeting tomorrow.

Clint caught up with her three quarters of the way to the main entrance, because she’d stopped walking. Sick to death of being wet, he kept going until he was under the large overhang, then turned to see what was holding her up. She stood rigidly, not breathing. The slightest movement in her tight, now soaked, little dress would have been detectable. What was she looking at? Why had her face become an even whiter shade of pale than normal?

He looked back at the window, following her line of vision. She was staring at the J. Milton Developments sign hanging in it.

“Cayden?”

“How long—” Her voice sounded strangled.

“How long, what?”

“—have you been working for the Cumberlands?”

“You know Dean and Milton?”

“You’re on a first name basis with them?” She actually staggered. Her voice lowered with every word. She was backing away, her delicate hands covering her face. “You…I… Of course. How could I have been such a fool? A man like you wanting
me
? Utterly ridiculous. This explains everything.”