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Why did I decide this was a good idea again?
“Hello?” The stripper’s voice is petulant, loaded with aggravation. It kind of reminds me of an annoying teacher I once had. “Do you guys want me to leave?”
I lightly bite his bottom lip and reluctantly turn away to watch her, seeing as he dropped a couple hundred bucks on this.
She’s no Antoinette since all she’s doing is rolling her hips. But come on, how many strippers are actual prima ballerinas? I mean, Antoinette can extend her leg straight up; she can do things normal people can’t. So, I’m giving this chick a break on her average-at-best moves as she unsnaps her top and shoves her fake breasts in my face.
I blink at her large dusky nipples as she tries to straddle us. “Wow.”
Not only is it awkward, but Cade’s fingers suddenly clamp down on my arm.
“Okay. We’re done,” he snaps, stunning the hell out of me as he surges to his feet, taking me with him.
For some reason, his beautiful face is twisted in anger… Oh, my God, is Cade jealous of the stripper? Or just mad at her getting into my personal space?
Either way, it’s kinda cute.
Even though I’m still raw from our last conversation, I can’t wait to tell Charlie—she’ll crack up.
“Wait.” I hold up my hand, grab my purse, and pull out a handful of ones. “I’ve always wanted to do this.” I smirk as I put a dollar in her bottoms and then one on the other side, snapping the side of her G-string when I’m done.
Cade grunts at my antics but doesn’t stop me, just hands the stripper a wad of cash with an expression that makes him look like he sucked on five limes. But to me, he only orders, “Hotel, now.” He steers me by gripping my hip as we make our way outside.
The urge to laugh fills me again, and I don’t think my chest has ever felt this light.
He wants me.
Is this what happiness feels like?
Holy fuck, that’s what this is. It’s not the booze; it’s Cade. I can’t remember the last time I felt…this… if ever.
I gaze at his face, which is still showing his aggravation as he clicks his fingers at the waitress. It’s the rudest I’ve seen him act with servers, but I’m okay with it because it’s nice to know that I’m not the only jealous one between us. Our suitcases are in his hand again within a couple minutes and shortly, we’re outside and he’s whistling for a cab.
He’s also still aggravated which is cute as fuck, something that has nothing to do with the snow that’s starting to fall, either.
“Cade?” I rasp, grabbing a hold of his shirt as a cab pulls up.
“Yeah?”
“You make me happy,” I say, not even caring if he says it back. After that fit of pique in there, I know we’ve got the same vibes going on even if he can’t admit it because he’s amanand men are slow on the uptake.
His hand clamps down on mine as he stares into my eyes. Right there, deep in their center, there’s an incandescence that makes me grin back at him.
All he says is, “Let’s go, Isabelle,” but Iknowhe feels it.
I make him happy too.
“The Ritz,” he orders the cab driver, dragging me onto his lap and burying his nose in my neck. His fingers tighten on my hip while he caresses my hair with the other. Then, he stuns me by showing more emotional range than a piece of Laffy Taffy by growling, “You’re mine, Isabelle. No one is taking you away from me. Do you hear me?”
Suddenly, I know this isn’tjusthow it feels to be happy.
This is what home feels like too…
11
CADE
My plans get derailedthanks to a pile-up on East Twelfth that not even my cab driver, a seasoned pro at this game, can get us around.
