The Locket (14 page)

“Wilfork? Really?” He seemed amused.

“Hell, yeah,” I cheered. “Plus, he’s like a big teddy bear.”

“Oh, okay, Blake. Now I get it. It’s not actually about the sport for you. He’s a big bear, all right,” he laughed.

“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m willing to bet he has a career year. Maybe even runs an interception back for a touchdown. What about it, Cassidy? You up for a little wager?”

“I love the Pats, so I can’t bet against them,” Brent replied. “But there is a greater chance of seeing pig’s fly than Wilfork getting a pick six. You have seen him, correct?”

“Hey, the big man’s got skills,” I touted.

“Okay then, whose you favorite QB?” Brent asked challengingly.

“That’s easy. Drew Brees. He’s amazing. Plus, he’s got a great story. He was drafted by San Diego who dumped him for Rivers when he got hurt. He didn’t throw a tantrum about it, just came back stronger after the injury and I enjoy watching him light it up.”

“Hmmm. So, maybe you do know football. The Pats play Miami this weekend. Good to know I won’t spend the game explaining the difference between off sides and a false start,” he said, questioning me with his grin.

“Oh, is this a test? Let’s see… Off sides is typically when a defensive player lines up over or jumps the line and a false start is when an offensive player moves before the snap. Satisfied?” I bubbled.

“Very.”

I pursed my lips slightly, looking at him teasingly. Really, he’s a total sexist and it should irritate me but it doesn’t. I loved when we bantered like this. “Well then, Cassidy, since I know football, that means you get to do the dishes.”

“Fair trade,” he replied.

It was quiet for a while as we both scarfed down our food, starving from not eating much at breakfast.

“This is wicked good food. You sure can cook,” he praised, making my belly flip. I looked up, whispering a quiet thank you to my mother.

Brent started clearing the table and cleaning up the kitchen. I watched him more adoringly than I should have. Pursing my lips, I started flipping through thoughts of Brent like pages in a novel. But no matter the page, I was in love with him. The logical side of me was trying to process what he said about my needing Reese. I weighed heavily over my feelings versus my responsibilities and it made my heart ache.

I remembered a favorite quote of mine from my book.

“Passion should believe itself irresistible. It should forget civility and consideration and all the other curses of a refined nature. Above all, it should never ask for leave where there is a right of way.”

Those words written long ago by such a romantic soul had always affected me. I was not sure how much my choice would change our lives but I knew my heart belonged to Brent and Reese would be helpless to change that.

I went into the kitchen to help Brent. “This house is amazing. I can’t believe Maggie could afford this place,” I said, wiping down the counters.

“Maggie inherited it from your grandmother. It was your grandfather’s dream. He made a ton of money during the dot.com craze and invested wisely. They continued to live a modest life. As he aged, he decided to build a house here for your grandma and Mags. He hoped to move here when he retired and did most of the work himself. They planned to leave the house in Mass for your parents but then he passed away and your grandmother and Maggie couldn’t stand the thought of living here without him. Maggie rents it a few times every summer to cover the bills, but that’s it. She’s never stepped foot inside,” Brent explained, knowing more about my family than I did.

“Wow, I had no idea. So, who takes care of the place?” I asked.

“Your aunt hired a caretaker. He helps with the rentals and she trusts him with everything. She called to let him know we were coming. He came by and stocked the fridge and turned on the heat for us,” he replied.

We spent the rest of the evening talking, and playing board games. Brent beat me a few dozen times in Checkers but I schooled him in Scrabble, redeeming myself. So much had changed for me in a few short months. My life had taken an expected turn. I had lost my parents, been handed what seemed like an insurmountable responsibility and fallen for Brent. I felt happier than I had in a long time. I was not looking forward to the evening coming to an end, and the thought of Reese showing up tomorrow made me increasingly uncomfortable.

“Hey, what are you thinking about, Blake?” Brent’s voice ended my mental rambling.

“What am I
not
thinking about,” I said. “I have a question to ask.”

“Shoot,” he smiled.

“Do you think there is any chance they got it wrong?” I asked, sliding one of the scrabble squares back and forth across the table fretfully.

He didn’t have to ask to know I was referring to Reese.

“Claire, we’ve been over this. Things are designed with a purpose, for a reason. You have to accept that you have no control over it.”

“I can’t, Brent, because I feel something different,” I admitted.

Brent moved closer to me, placing his hand on my knee. His touch reminded me I definitely felt something different. It was meant to be friendly, but my body knew it was something more.

“You won’t when Reese gets here. I promise you. The bond between the two of you will pull you to him and you’ll forget about how you feel about me,” he explained, running his fingers through his hair. I saw in the movement he hoped he was wrong as much as I did.

“I’m not sure that’s a promise you can keep. I mean it Brent. I felt nothing when I was around Reese. Frankly, he’s annoying as hell,” I laughed.

Brent laughed softly and teasingly tapped the tip of my nose with his index finger.

“Well, he can be that at times,” he agreed. “But you’ll love him anyway.”

“I won’t,” I argued, folding my hands in my lap, pursing my lips in frustration.

“You will,” Brent countered, resting his fingers along the bottom of my jaw, using his thumb to remove my pout.

His fingers lingered and our eyes locked. When the heat in my core was too much to take, I put my mouth on his. He tensed immediately and moved away from me, leaving my heart empty.

“Claire, we can’t.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” I whispered ruefully.

He slid close to me again and reached for my hand. “Look, promise me when Reese gets here, you’ll give him a chance. It will happen and for your safety alone, you’ll need him. Please,” Brent pleaded.

“I’ll try.” That was all I could offer –that I would try. I wasn’t sure yet how I was possibly going to manage it. Everything emotion in me told me Reese was not the one.

I thought about what my mom always used to say to me whenever I wanted something I had no control over.

If was meant to be, Claire, it will happen.

In this case, I wanted Brent but was reluctantly starting to feel like it wasn’t meant to be.

When we went up to bed, Brent agreed to lay with me. He didn’t even make an argument as to why it was a bad idea. I thought it was because he knew it wouldn’t make a difference in what was supposed to happen. I curled up around him with my head on his chest, lost in the rhythm of his heartbeat. He ran his fingers through the side of my hair until I drifted off to sleep.

He sighed, shaking his head. “Even a wish as powerful as a birthday one can’t change fate, you know.”

Shrugging him off, a wide smile stretched my face. “We’ll see,” I pouted, sticking my tongue at him. This was starting to become a habit as childish as it was.

Brent shrugged, looking at me seriously.

“You really are stubborn, you know that?” he said, although I wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a question.

Looking away, I flushed inwardly.

“One of my greatest abilities, Cassidy,” I grinned saucily, holding in a laugh.

He eyed me with a bemused grin of his own.

“So how’s does it feel to be eighteen, Blake? he asked, changing the subject as he took a seat next to me on the bed.

“I don’t feel any different,” I said. “At least not because I’ve finally reached a number deemed adulthood. Why, how old are you Cassidy?”

“Twenty,” he answered, sneaking a bite of pancake. I pretended to stab him with my fork.

“But, how are you and I in the same grade then?” I had always assumed we were the same age because we were in the same grade.

Looking back at me bewildered, he answered. “We needed to be, so I started school the same year you did.”

This seemed so obvious. I didn’t even know why I asked the question.

“Thanks for the birthday breakfast. That was very sweet of you.”

“Yes, well, every girl needs cake on her birthday or cakes in this case,” he said smiling. My heart burst with emotions as I conjured up the image of him in the kitchen preparing me breakfast to make my day special.

We shared the pancakes, sitting quietly, gazing into each other’s eyes, his blazing, deep blue. It was as though we were sharing the same energy, fixated on reading the other’s thoughts. He leaned in closer, his warm breath clouding my face. The scent of maple syrup lingered between us. There was nothing better, my mom was right. He wanted to kiss me. I felt his need and I wanted him to do it. The thought made my heart pound and I was sure he noticed. I sat stoic, though I wanted to leap. This had to be his choice. I drew in a slow breath when I sensed he was about to do it. This time because he wanted to. It seemed he was unable to curb his desire any more than I was. I saw in his eyes he was waging a battle between right and wrong, craving me as much as I craved him. We were both startled by the sound of the doorbell, releasing our hypnosis.

My heart stopped, reminding me who was at the door.

“That would be your Paramour, now,” Brent said with the same distain in his voice that I felt in my heart. It seemed no matter how much he wanted to deny it, he was not happy about this situation either. “I’ll go down and get him. You can meet us downstairs when you’re ready.”

“Okay,” I choked out, wanting to say more. I wanted to stop him from leaving and ignore our guest. Maybe he would go away. But I knew that wouldn’t happen. I had to face Reese eventually.

When Brent left, I threw my head onto the pillow. These last few days had been a whirlwind and my time with Brent had been special to me. I had fallen for him and I was not ready to let go. Even if I wanted to, my feelings could not just be cast aside, could they? Brent said the stamp on the seals of Reese and I was not something we could fight, but I wanted to. I had to. I was still trying to come to grips with how much I liked Brent and how much it hurt to think of not being with him. Does Reese know that? Does he know, that I know, what he is supposed to mean to me? It doesn’t matter. As disappointed as I was about things, I needed to be respectful. A part of me wanted to go downstairs using the utmost inept vocabulary I could think of to tell Reese what I thought of all this. I chose not to. It was not his fault. He did not ask for things to be this way anymore than Brent or I did. I decided to keep an open mind and be civil with Reese.

Procrastinating a little longer, I thought how a life partner was someone you should choose freely. My mom had once told me that she knew my dad was the one, from the moment they had met. While working at a diner, she had spilled coffee on him. She expected him to freak out, but instead, he asked her on a date. They went out for the first time the next night and had been together since, other than a brief separation when she thought she was too young to be so serious. She had regretted their time apart. She told me once if I ever found the one,
don’t let go
. Now, I had found
the one
, and was being forced to let go.

Getting dressed, I saw the marks from Logan had become darker. They lingered on my skin as a constant reminder of his hatred for me. Selfishly, I was grateful that Reese could remove them. I didn’t need to be marked to know that Kace was a danger to me. The sooner they were gone, the happier I would be.

When I finished getting ready, I headed for the stairs, mentally preparing myself for how to handle Reese. I heard yelling below and made my way quietly down the first few steps to hear what the argument was about.

Brent’s voice was the first I heard clearly. “Get out of my face, Reese. I didn’t do anything to her. I can’t explain what is going on either.” His voice was rigid, but he was making an effort to keep things from escalating.

Reese growled at him, sounding territorial. “Of course you can. You are interfering with the order of things and you need to stop.”

The irritation was back, burning deep inside. I sucked in a deep breath to extinguish it.

Brent’s voice was softer. “I am not interfering, Reese. I know the way things are supposed to be. I only told you about her reluctance so you weren’t blind-sided by her reaction to you. I am not sure how she is going to handle it, and I thought it best you know,” he explained and I heard the sincerity in his words.

Reese obviously wasn’t hearing the conversation the same way I was.

“Oh right, Brent. I’ve seen how you look at her. We all have. Maggie warned you about it and you didn’t listen to her,” he quipped, speaking to Brent disrespectfully. It upset me. I remembered seeing Maggie talking to Brent in the driveway. She was scolding him before he changed his semblance to Mr. Marshall.

What did he say to her?

“Look, I did listen to her. I tried to keep my distance…and then I felt her. She was in trouble. I was further away than I should have been. It’s a good thing I made it to her in time,” Brent argued, his voice sounding pained, struggling with the memory.

Reese shouted explosively. “I’m glad you were there, but that doesn’t mean anything has changed.”

Brent continued his attempt to convince him. “I didn’t say anything has, Reese. I just wanted you to know she may need some time.”