Sweet As You

(19) Kathie Jane

Kathie Jane

I was borne a happy kid. So very rarely have I been asked if I was okay, because I am always okay. Always. I am the person who checks on friends if they're okay. It had been become a satisfying deed to put people at ease around me. I am the one who makes them feel better. I am the one to comfort. I had unknowingly developed a default Kathie around my friends.

I have a quip and a smile at the ready. Sometimes, though, it would've been nice to be one being comforted. There are the briefest of moments where I just want to lean on someone. And I find the urge to lean more alarmingly around Cade Parkinson for no rational reason.

Tonight, I was off my game. I forgot I turned down a few party invitations in the past few days because of the Owen situation. I didn't know what to tell my friends.

I wanted to stare at my phone all night, waiting for a call or a text I will never get. Then Cade came over like a knight in dark-rimmed glasses. Dancing took my mind off things, but when the second song faded out, I couldn't impose another dance, so I feigned a fancy curtsy and thank him. He almost smile. Or at least that's the poking dimples on his cheeks might have implied.

The wedding reception was held in one of the city's exclusive resort. It was a beautiful evening too. They paid for the entire property, so I slink across the patio, a bottle of champagne in hand. The venue was nice, yet I craved for an empty space.

As cliché as it may sound, I wanted to be out in the briny air. So, I headed to the beach, taking off my shoes and letting the sand tickle my toes. I inhaled the ocean breeze, setting my skirt to the side and lowering myself down on the sand. It was too late when I realized I didn't have a glass with me.

The tide was coming in, but the waves were too serene to reach me and have my dress wet. Although I wouldn't be a hundred percent sure about it.

I carelessly stretched my legs forward and buried my feet further into the sand. I tilted my head up to stare at the sky, disappointed that there weren't many stars to see tonight.

My heart sank. I set my shoes aside with the bottle of champagne. My hand was in my purse rummaging for my phone. I wanted to call Owen. I wanted to tell him it's unbearable to wait. That it felt unfair because I'm left hanging – well, the latter I might keep to myself.

And then I wanted to call my sister. If there's anyone in the world who would understand, it's my little sister. But I don't want to ruin her honeymoon. Plus, it's pretty late.

Tears pressed against my eyes.

"You're searching for a drinking buddy out here?"

My head whipped around, startled at the voice that punctured my thoughts. Then a smile came to my lips. Surprisingly, Cade Parkinson's face has lifted my spirits however little emotion they could show. His neatly styled hair was starting to furl from the ocean air. His hand went up to tame them down... to no avail.

The curls were adorable.

"Hi," I chirped. "How did you find me?"

Cade sat down next to me, two long-stemmed champagne flutes in between his fingers. "I was hiding."

A laugh ripped out my throat. "Well, there's no need to feel ashamed about it."

Cade reaches for the champagne and expertly removed the foil then twisted off the cork with a loud pop. He poured the liquid into the glasses and handed one to me.

"Thank you." I held it out and clink glasses. "You're so handy."

"What are you doing here?"

"I was just about to stare at the stars. But I have no luck."

"You have the ocean." He gestured to the waves muffling the sound of a nearby bonfire. "And look, there's a shell."

"Really? Where?" I felt the corners of my lips lifted into a wide grin.

He leans over, picking something up just next to his left foot. He dusted it before giving it to me.

I couldn't help the delighted squeal when a little, rosy shell met my eyes. "It's pretty."

A ghost of smile touches his mouth. "A shell makes you this happy."

My hands closed around the two-sided shell. "Do you think there's used to be a pearl inside."

"No. It's a scallop shell. Oysters make pearls."

I shifted so I'm fully facing him. "How did you know?"

"I watched too much National Geographic when I was a kid."

A picture of a little Cade staring fascinated at the TV screen flashes in my mind. "Can I keep it?"

"I haven't taken a claim on it."

"But you saw it first."

"Doesn't mean it's mine," he says, taking a sip on his champagne.

"So, I can have it?"

"Sure."

I giggled. "Great. Do you want to keep the other valve? We can split the shell."

He shakes his head. "Don't be cruel. Don't take away its other half."

There was something different about his voice. My mouth hangs open when I realized he was kidding. Hell, the guy tells joke. It was a revelation!

Wind gusted by, slapping grains of sand from the shell to my face. I blink, my fingers struggling to keep dirt from my eyes. I groaned when my right eye stung.

"Hold still. Let me see." Cade scoots closer, his palm warm on my cheek.

"I think there's dirt in my right eye," I blink uncomfortably.

He inches his face closer. "Hold still."

He blew air to my eye that was blurring from tears. I blink rapidly, holding back a sigh of relief because it just dawned on me that Cade was too close. I could smell his perfume. Spicy and, quite frankly, sexy.

"Is it gone?"

I could only nod.

His dimples hollowed adorably when a full smile appeared on his lips. It changed his face altogether. He was somehow touchable and less intimidating.

My supposed sigh of relief is forever caught in my throat. "Thanks," I say distractedly.

A sound came out of his throat. It was a faint laugh. Still, it was something. "I told you not to split the valves. Nature agrees with me."

I groped for nonchalance. But all I felt were... butterflies.

Butterflies I never had before. I bit on my lip, realizing I may have been developing a crush on Cade Parkinson. 

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P.S. I had this chapter on my drafts on Monday. I can't believe I forgot to publish it.

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