Page 91 of Moving Forward

I wipe at the tears in my eyes before he opens his. If he catches me crying, he might confuse it with sadness.

He puts the guitar down, staring at the floor, still lost in his music.

“That was really beautiful,” I tell him. “I don’t think the man who wrote it matters as much as the man who sings it. Your soul was beautiful while you were singing.”

His eyes flicker to mine, and I catch a sparkle in his eyes as he gives me a ghost of a smile. I shouldn’t have used the term was. His soul is beautiful. No one cares as deeply as he does, as if that’s the job he was put on earth to accomplish.

He runs his fingers along his chin, giving me an odd look. His fingers end their perusal at the back of his neck, squeezing it. A blush slowly eases into his cheeks, making him look boyish.

I stand up and sit in his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Thank you for giving that to me.”

He rests his forehead against mine. “No one’s ever . . . the things you say, Max. God. You just make everything sound—feel­—so right.”

Now it’s my turn to blush. “I love you, Cain.”

“Same, Peaches.”

I shift slightly and ah. My body suddenly comes alive as he throbs, ready, against me. I bite my lip, easing my hand down until my fingers are dipping into the waistline of his sweat. “I must feel really right.”

“Peaches, you feel better than right. If we’re being honest here, I’m constantly planning all the things I want to do to you. And the fact that you’re here with me and letting me have you . . . it’s making it worse. All I can think about is how you want me just as much as I want you.”

I lean toward him, pushing this further. “Well, I’ll show you just how much I want you, if”—I kiss the soft spot beneath his ear—“you say that you’ll go to Danny’s bachelor party.”

“Ah, Max. Please don’t do this to me. You know I have no choice but to say yes to you. Especially when I know what heaven lurks beneath that shirt.”

I pull back and pout. “Cain . . .”

He leans forward, capturing my bottom lip between his teeth. “Fine.” Then he pulls back, fire blazing in his eyes. That’s not the only place the fire is blazing between the two of us. “But I could use a little bit more persuasion. Why don’t we go back into my boat and hole up in my bed for a few more hours . . . days? What do you say?”

I feign shyness before I push off him. “I’ll beat you there!”

I giggle at the sound of him cursing as he chases me back into his boat.

CHAPTER THIRTY

CAIN

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