Page 326 of All For You Duet

And Pamela.

So I let go. “Leave now,” I growl, “before anyone even sees you were here.”

That may save him face like I give a shit. But that’ll also save Cade’s heart because I don’t want her to see this.

Stacey grabs Gentry’s arm, yanking him back toward the car. He wrests it away from her grip, sneering, “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“We’re leaving,” she says. “Quietly. Or I won’t be so damn silent about everything I know. You understand me?”

I see why Cade likes her. Why they became allies over that evil fuck. As they turn away, I just hope he doesn’t hurt Stacey, too.

“You think she’ll be alright?” I mutter to Silas.

I don’t put anything past Gentry, especially hurting women.

“I got her number,” Silas says. “I’ll check on her later.”

We return to the service, our polished shoes stepping over sandy grass. Oddly, I’m relieved to see Cade so lost in grief and not focused on the world around her. At least she was spared from Gentry. For the day. And it’s a long one. Funerals in the southern heat sweat you down to your last grieving tear.

I don’t know how Cade does it. How she goes through the motions, even at the party afterward Mama G wanted to be thrown. It reminds me of a jazz funeral meets an Irish wake. Lots of drinking. Music. Toasts. Tears and laughter. By the end of it, I’m the only sober one.

Even Silas has a couple of drinks, enough to make him whisper in my ear, “I miss us. All three of us.”

The heat of his lips on my skin firms my cock at the most inappropriate time. But Mama G supported this love: the unique one me, Silas, and Cade share.

“I miss us too.” And I can tell Silas is sober enough to mean it and to remember me saying, “But I want you to be happy. Like we got schooled today—life is short, so fill it with love.”

The other person who should be here is across the room, smiling at guests while her soul is a million miles away.

“You were right,” I tell Silas. “You keep telling me how special me and Cade are and not to take it for granted.” I reach for his hand. This whole room can see us, and I’m proud. “And you’re special too. I love you. And so does she. And we’ll never stop.”

I kiss him. Not with the same heat, the same passion, and God-I-want-to-fuck-you-so-hard urge in my body. That’ll always be here, but not today. This is love. This is our life, and I don’t want to live it without him either.

Silas takes my kiss before pressing his forehead to mine, swearing, “Because I feel this love. The one you share with Cade. I’ll know it when it happens to me, and I won’t ever take it for granted.”

“You’re gonna have a helluva time beating it.” I grin. “Just sayin’.”

His grin back heats my veins. “I haven’t found it yet. And just cuz’ I can’t stay, it don’t mean I’ll ever leave. Just sayin’.”

And we leave it at that. No fucking at a funeral. Though of all funerals, Mama G would approve. I’m surprised it wasn’t one of her dying wishes.

“Y’all go treat each other like angels,” she’d probably say, “and fuck like devils too.”

That thought helps me keep my shit together while I escort my crying mama to the car. Renie will take her home. I want to turn back for Cade, but Silas and his parents walk toward me on the sidewalk outside the event hall.

“It was nice to see you again, Mr. Dean.” Silas’s dad shakes my hand. “My regrets it had to be under such sad circumstances. Please bring Ms. Bryant by some other time for a visit.” He slaps his other hand on Silas’s shoulder. “With my son, of course.”

What that invitation means to Silas, I see it lighten his hazel eyes, washing so much of his pain away.

“I’d be honored, sir.” I return his handshake before pecking Silas’s mom’s cheek. “Ms. Van de May, I hope to see you again, too.”

“I’ll be sure of it.” Silas winks my way.

I watch the three of them leave, still stunned as the logic sinks in—Silas Van de May. Heir to billions. Boat mechanic to some. Hot-as-fuck man to most… and the only one I’ll ever love.

I turn back to search the crowd for Cade. I want to take her home.

But I can’t find her. I find her dad, giving him another hug while he tells me, “She went home. She said she wants to be alone.”