Page 44 of Porter's Angel

She broke into another laugh. “Why can I see you doing that?”

He traced her jaw, his fingers sliding into her hair. He wanted to kiss her so bad, but he couldn’t, not until he told her the truth. Maybe his brother was right and his conscience worked overtime, but Porter neededsomesort of incentive to confess everything. He dropped his voice. “I don’t blame you if you’re not feeling up to NASCAR night.”

“No, I really want to go,” she said. “I mean, this is how it’s going to be for a while, so I either try to wrap myself up in bubble wrap or I live life.”

He was glad that she chose life. Sure, it was hard sometimes; it held sorrow, pain… but it also had joy and blissful bursts of happiness, like these. He hoped that they could get past the bumps in the road, because there was a big one coming up.

Porter was already practicing his apology speech.

Chapter Sixteen

Porter parked in front of a rustic cabin in the middle of the woods. Cadence would think it was uninhabited with all the junk around the premises, if it wasn’t for the bright American flag waving proudly in the front.

Someone was ready for the Fourth of July.

She remembered that Mr. Funches was supposed to be an army vet, though she doubted that it really was from World War II. He was in his sixties, so that put him in the Korean, Iraq, and Afghanistan wars.

She picked up her phone to look it up. Porter leaned over the console in his truck. “No internet or cellphone reception.” He shrugged at her startled look. “Funches likes it better that way. He’s off the grid.”

He tucked the blanket around her shoulders. Ever since she’d almost fainted in the cabin, he’d been treating her like she was on her death bed. Cadence felt terrible about that, especially considering the stress that he was going through with his momma.

“Wait right there,” he said. “I’m coming to get you.”

She smiled at his gallantry as he pushed out his side and came around to hers. She’d have to let him know that she wasn’t a fragile doll… in a little bit. For now, she was enjoying his pampering too much. The door opened and he grinned up at her as he reached for her.

Wow, the guy had some manners on him. Maybe Lily did have some say on his upbringing, and not the wolves that she’d suspected had raised him before. She remembered what he’d said about wanting to talk to her later tonight aboutwhy he’d come off as such a jerk atLacy’s party.

All sorts of scenarios ran through her mind. Porter had been there with his infamous brother, West. Maybe West had asked him to act a certain way in order to secure more clients—it wasn’t particularly admirable, but at least it would explain why Porter was as different from night and day as the man that she’d first met.

He certainly wasn’t the player that she’d assumed he was.

Sky had given her back her clothes after painting, and though it was a relief to get rid of the fumes, Cadence was back to tugging again. Porter didn’t mind the poorly fitting clothes, judging by his appreciative glance, but then again, he was always appreciative. Crazy man. Porter took her hand so that he could help guide her down from his impossibly tall truck. “Yeah, I know, I know!” he said. “Why’d I make my truck so high?”

“I didn’t say anything,” she protested, though she was beginning to realize that there was a side of Porter that seemed to enjoy anything car-related—that was probably another draw to Nashville. She’d remembered some of the fancy cars that his brother had driven to Lacy’s office on occasion. How different were these brothers really?

Worlds different.

Porter’s expression was soft with concern as he handed her down. He clearly enjoyed babying her. His hands lingered on her a little longer every time he touched her. He gave her that genuine smile that she was starting to anticipate with growing excitement. “I’d say jacking up the GMC was the best decision of my life,” he said, bringing her close with a playful light in his eyes. “It’s paying for itself.”

Porter’s hands ran down her back. She listened to the steady rhythm of his heart against the SEAL’s tee that he’d stolen off of Grey. Porter clearly had wanted to kiss her the first time that he’d taken her home after her flat tire, and then again at the waterfall, but he’d resisted every time.

What was he waiting for?

He released her reluctantly from his embrace, though he still laid claim to her hand as he brought her to the weathered cabin door. Even though she admired his restraint, she began to wonder if there was something wrong.

Something wrong? Of course, there was!

She bit down a grim smile—Lacy was the father of her baby and she’d just broken off things a week ago. She didn’t blame Porter for being stand-offish, except… nothing else in his manner showed that he was bothered by any of those things. In fact, he was bursting with pride at the thought of introducing her to each and every one of his friends.

They were an odd mismatch of comrades that he’d chosen to hang out with, but Porter just seemed friendly with everyone, another plausible explanation for those women at the party.

Oh, Emily, please get your phone working. We need a heart to heart!

Heavy branches from the maples swung over the crumbling roof. She noticed the pines creaking under the wind. One bad windstorm would take out Funches’s cabin. Clearly, he was a man who liked to live on the edge.

Winding around a splintered picnic table at the front and barely dodging a portable firepit where a Dutch oven radiated delectable sweet smells of peach cobbler, Porter came to the sturdy door and thrust it open like he owned the place. Cadence noticed hunting gear lying around inside. A dog yapped in response. Paws scraped over a wooden floor in the other room.

“Funches!” Porter shouted.