Page 72 of Trouble

As if I had a choice in the matter. Hope Street is decked out with stalls upon stalls for this German market–inspired festival. Residents display their homemade goods up and down the street, hockingartwork, crocheted blankets and hats and mittens, spiked apple cider, and Bristol-themed clothes.

Carmella and her grandson’s wife Belle are selling homemade limoncello that they brew at the winery Belle co-owns. It’s incredible, but I don’t give it a second thought today. I’m too focused on finding the two people who left my office a half hour ago.

A phone call came in as we were all cleaning up, and—thank fuck—I had to stay behind while Cade and Melina headed out. I needed the time to myself to wrap my head around what the fuck we did and work through how I want to proceed.

I’ve yet to figure that out, because I don’t know what the fuck to make of my physical attraction to Cade.

It was probably the heat of the moment.

That thought makes my stomach twist. It doesn’t explain the thoughts that have plagued me every other time I’ve seen him since Melina moved into my home. Still, I’ll go with that. Now that we’re in town, dressed, and he’s not fucking the woman I’m obsessed with, I’m certain this feeling that I’m going to crawl out of my skin if I don’t touch him will go away.

It has to.

“They’re over there.” Carmella points, wearing a knowing smirk.

Fuck. It can’t be that obvious, can it?

“I’m here by myself.” I lift my chin and focus on Belle, patently avoiding looking in Cade and Melina’s direction. “Can you wrap one of those bottles up for me? I think my sister will love it.”

The raven-haired woman smiles, and I find myself noticing the exact color of her eyes for the first time. They’re a deep blue close to the shade of Cade’s, though his irises have an almost turquoise ring around the pupil that makes the blue lighten when he smiles.

I run my hand through my hair.Lighten when he smiles. Turquoise.What thehellis wrong with me?

In the thirty-plus years I’ve known Cade, I’ve never thought about his eye color. What the fuck has changed?

And do I want it to stop?

“Why don’t I wrap it up, and you can pick it up when you’re donewith the festival? That way you don’t have to walk around with the bottle,” she suggests.

“Actually, that’d be great.” I pull out my wallet and pay, then head in the direction I pretended I had no intention of going.

But as I scan the crowd and don’t spot the two people who have me all tangled up inside, my irritation grows.

Did they go home?

Or head to dinner without me?

“Dec.” The voice has my heart leaping.

The way my stomach swoops in excitement when I lock eyes with Cade is embarrassing. And the fluttering in my chest is so intense, I rub at the space above my heart to ease it.

“Thought that was you,” Melina says as she releases Cade’s hand and slips her arms around my midsection. No hesitation. No consideration for what the people around us might think. She does what she wants, and though I don’t normally enjoy public displays of affection, I don’t exactly hate it when she squeezes me tighter and tilts her chin up, smile blazing, waiting for me to kiss her hello.

But I do hate the way I taste Cade on her lips. Not because the flavor is a turn-off, but because I can’t reach for him and do the same.

Fuck.

And when I look over her head and lock eyes with my best friend, the hungry expression on his face tells me that the feeling is not one-sided. The need I saw in his eyes as he watched Melina undress is now aimed at me.

Once again I don’t know what the fuck to make of any of it. But my dick sure knows how it feels. This is going to get uncomfortable quick if I don’t get my head in the game.So I pull my gaze from his and wrap my arm around Melina instead. Pointing at the limoncello stall, I say, “I was grabbing a gift for my sister. Cade, you should get a bottle for your mom. I bet she’d love the stuff.”

Beyond Cade, Carmella and Belle are surreptitiously watching. Dammit. What are they thinking? Are they judging? With a sharp breath in and back out, I push the intrusive thoughts away.

“She loves it,” Carmella says, not even trying to act like she wasn’t eavesdropping.

Cade grins and has Belle wrap up a bottle for him. “I’ll take it over tomorrow, along with the flowers Amelia set aside. Looks like I’m a shoo-in for favorite son.”

I snort. “You’re her only son.”