Wedding Vows: I Thee Wed: Back to Mr & Mrs / Reunited: Marriage in a Million / Marrying Her Billionaire Boss

How she wanted to give in to that kiss, to do nothing more than love this man. To let his touch erase the words, the silences, the nights spent alone.

But she had spent too many regretful mornings knowing no kiss could do that.

Melanie jerked back and broke the connection, ignoring the pull of regret. “Cade, we can’t do this.”

“Why not?” he asked, his gaze still locked on hers. “We’re still married.”

She turned away, busying herself with cleaning the counter, trying to tamp down the need still rolling inside her. It had been a long, lonely year but she knew she was doing what was best for her, and in the end, for Cade.

“Don’t do this, Cade. I can’t…” Her voice trailed off, unable to voice the vulnerability still lingering in her chest. If he touched her again, she’d surely dissolve.

“I need you, Melanie,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“I’ve always needed you.”

“No, you don’t. You never did.”

He cupped her jaw, tipping her chin upward, waiting for her to meet his gaze. “Melanie, I’d never be where I was today if it wasn’t for you. You were always the better half of my success. Of everything.”

She shook her head, causing his touch to drop away. “Cade, all I did was bake the leg of lamb and set the table for the dinner parties.”

“It was much more than that and you know it.”

“Was it? Because I never felt that way. I put on the parties, smiled until my lips hurt, served coffee, tea and your best qualities to every guest. At the end of the night, you were toasting another success and I was washing the damned dishes.” She put up a finger when he started to protest. “You forgot me, Cade. Left me behind as you hurried ahead in your career. The only time you needed me was when there was a party to host or a client to impress.”

“I never meant to do that.”

She drew in a breath, cooling her temper. “I know, Cade. I guess I just wanted to feel like something I did, something other than raising Emmie, meant something. I never felt that when I was pulling a roast out of the oven or pouring champagne.” She glanced around the coffee shop. “Until now.”

“What you did mattered, to me,” he said.

“You never said it.” She let out a little laugh.

“Heck, you were never home long enough to say anything.”

He reached for her, but she turned away. Instead of letting her go, Cade moved forward, taking her hand with his. “I’m here now, Melanie.”

How she wanted to believe that. To think that it could be different—that she could have the marriage she’d dreamed of, and the dreams she’d just achieved. To trust Cade would be there, physically and emotionally, when she needed him.

But if there was one thing Melanie couldn’t take, it was more disappointment.

“Cade, it’s too late,” Melanie said. “We drifted apart. I became your personal assistant, not your wife. And then, when it looked like I might have my chance, you wanted to put me right back into the same box I was trying to climb out of.”

“All I wanted was a family,” he said. “How can you hate me for that?”

She reached out, touched his hand, but then retreated. Each of them had been hurt that night, but instead of coming together, they’d ended up on opposite sides of a common fence. “I never hated you, Cade. I just wanted to go down a different road.”

“You’ve never told me why, Melanie,” Cade said, coming around her, forcing her to face him. “Why did you leave me?”

Melanie sighed. Why couldn’t he just let their marriage die? “I told you. A hundred times over the past few years, but you never listened.”

“I’m listening now. Tell me what it is, so I can fix it.”

She threw up her hands. “That right there, that’s part of the problem. You can’t fix everything, Cade.”

“I can fix this, Melanie. Give me a chance.”

For a second, she wanted to do just that, but then she thought back to the dozens of times they’d had conversations that echoed this one. Things would change for a week, maybe two, and then Cade would go back to being Cade, relying on Melanie to do everything but live for herself. When she’d finally had her chance, all he’d wanted to do was return to the status quo.

She shook her head, then crossed the room, her keys in her hand. She held open the door, waiting for him to exit before shutting and locking it. “No, Cade. You can’t fix this.”

Then, before she did something really stupid, like revisit that kiss, she turned and went home to her empty apartment, her stomach as disappointed as her heart.

An hour later, Cade walked into the offices of Fitzsimmons, Matthews and Lloyd, although Fitzsimmons had died ten years ago and Lloyd last summer, leaving it technically just Matthews. Even though it was late on Sunday night, he found his father exactly where he’d expected him to be—behind his desk.

The imposing office had been a major part of Jonathon Matthews’s life for forty-plus years, and it showed in the dark paneling, the heavy furniture, the deep, plush carpeting. Every inch of the room reflected Jonathon’s personality, his high expectations.

When Cade entered the room, his father barely looked up from the brief he was reading. Jonathon had aged well, the only concession to his sixty years a pair of glasses that he wore when no one was looking. His gray hair was cut short, his suit tailor-made. The same attention to detail that marked his office wore well on every inch of the man.

“Cade,” his father said, laying the brief aside.

“Glad you came in. I wanted to talk to you about the Tewksbury case.”

“I’m not here to work, Dad.” The look of surprise on his father’s face told Cade he’d spent far too many weekends here. “I wanted to talk to you.” He slipped into one of the two claw-foot chairs facing his father.

“I’m taking next week off.”

“Off?” his father echoed, surprise in his tone, his brows arched above the gold frames. “What could possibly be more important than the Tewksbury case?”

“Melanie.” Cade swallowed. “I’m going to go work in her coffee shop this week.”

The silence in the room was as heavy as a steel beam. “You’re what?”

“Going to—”

“I heard you the first time.” His father scowled.

“What the hell are you thinking?”

“I’m trying to save my marriage.”

“At the expense of this firm. She’s divorcing you, Cade. Let her go, for God’s sake.”

“She’s my wife.”

Jonathon waved a hand in dismissal. “You can always get another. A hell of a lot easier than I can find a lead attorney on this Tewksbury mess.”

Anger boiled inside of Cade. He knew, since the day he’d told his father Melanie was pregnant, that the marriage had been a disappointment, a detour from the path Jonathon had planned for the son he saw as the heir to the firm. “Is that how you look at wives? Interchangeable?”

“That’s how I look at the ones who walk out on their husbands for no good reason.” His father dipped his head, attention on his work again.

But just before he dropped his gaze, Cade saw a flash of vulnerability in his father’s eyes. A sheen of hurt, that had lingered despite the perfectionist paint job his father had applied to himself.

“Because Mom did it to you?” Cade said quietly, touching on the one nerve that ran through all three Matthews men.

The sore spot made Jonathon scowl and pick up the brief again. “I have work to do. And so do you, if that pile on your desk is any indication.” But his voice had lost its punch.

“Answer me, Dad.” Cade leaned forward. “Is it because she left you with two five-year-old boys and never came back?”

His father shook his head, dismissing the glistening in his eyes. Because it was too painful? Too hard for Jonathon Matthews to admit failure? “All that’s ancient history.”

Cade wasn’t going to let that history die. After all these years, he and his father had never talked about that October day when Elaine Matthews had packed up her station wagon and headed to California. “Your mother is gone,” Jonathon had said to his twin boys, before introducing the new nanny in the next breath, as if the whole thing was nothing more than a shift change in the Matthews household.

“After she was gone, you poured yourself into work, leaving nannies to raise us. Hell, half of them were so bad, we raised ourselves because you weren’t there.”

“I had to provide for my family.”

After marrying and parenting his own child, Cade understood his father better. How would it have been for Cade if he had lost Melanie when Emmie was a little girl? Would he have done the same, retreating into the predictability, the quiet of work?

“Or was it because you had to escape two little boys with a whole lot of questions?” Cade looked at his father and saw himself in twenty years. The thought didn’t bring Cade cheer. “And here I followed in your footsteps, right down to the hours at work.”

“Law is a consuming business.”

“It doesn’t have to be. I can have a family and a career.”

His father whipped his glasses off and tossed them to the side. He squeezed at his eyes, erasing the trace of emotion. “What are we living in, fairy tales now? You have a commitment to this firm, to ensuring that our clients are taken care of. If your wife couldn’t understand that—”

“She did, Dad. More than any one woman should have had to.”

“I didn’t make you put those hours in, Cade,” Jonathon said. His gaze connected with Cade’s. A look of regret flickered in his eyes, then was quickly whisked away. “Before you throw stones at me, you better damned well look at your own garden.” His father settled the glasses on his nose again and returned to the brief, to the comfort of work. It had always been Jonathon’s escape, and sadly, it was now also his entire life. “Bring me the Tewksbury file, please and we can strategize for court.”

Cade bit his tongue before he lashed out. He knew from experience that the only way to deal with his father was calmly and with a good argument. The minute Cade raised his voice, Jonathon would tune him out. “I told you, Dad. I’m working with Melanie this week. Todd can handle my cases.”

His father shook his head, negating the idea. “I need you here.”

“It’s only a week, and then I’ll be back. Surely the firm can live without me for a few days.”

“We probably can,” his father conceded. Then he laid his hands flat against the smooth surface of his desk and leveled his steely gaze on his son. “The point is you’ve been…distracted lately. I put up with it after Melanie left, because every man is entitled to some time to get over a thing like that.”

“A thing like that?We were married nineteen years.”

“But then,” his father went on, ignoring Cade’s words, “you didn’t snap out of it. You’ve been about as useful around here as a puppy.”

“I’ve always given you my best, Dad, you know that.” The best years of his life, the best weekends, the best nights. Cade had nearly killed himself, putting in long hours, always trying to please his father, to achieve some impossible standard.

And for what? Cade still didn’t measure up and never would. Pleasing Jonathon Matthews was like trying to fill an endless, empty well.

“Have you?” his father asked. “Because there have been rumors. That you’re talking to Bill Hendrickson about leaving.”

Cade blinked in surprise. “Yes, that’s true.”

“When were you going to tell me?” A flicker of hurt ran through Jonathon’s blue eyes, then disappeared. For a moment, Cade wanted to relent. He knew his father had always thought his son would step into the role of heading the firm, but Cade didn’t want this life. Didn’t want to sit in this office at sixty because his house was emptier than his heart.

“I just wanted to look at my options,” Cade said.

“Options other than working for me.”

“Yes.”

Jonathon Matthews gave one short, brisk nod.

“Fine. Then you might as well leave now. Save me from wondering when you’re going to drop the ax.”

This was what frustrated Cade the most about his father. His inflexibility. Either you measured up or you didn’t, and if you didn’t, Jonathon was quick to sever the ties. “Dad—”

“You’ve disappointed me, Cade,” Jonathon said, rising and pushing his chair back into perfect alignment with the desk. “I expected much more from my own flesh and blood.”

“You’ve expected everything from me!” Cade shot back. “I’ve given you nineteen years, Dad. Nineteen years in a job I never really loved.” “You could have told me that before I paid for law school. Saved me the money,” Jonathon said. “And now you’re leaving me, just like she did.”

“I’m not her, Dad. And the sooner you stop taking out her sins on me and Carter, the better off we’ll all be. Hell, we might even be happy.” When his father buried his head in his work again, refusing to open that door of vulnerability again, Cade turned and strode out of the room, unemployed—and wondering if the mess his life had become was beyond salvageable.

CHAPTER EIGHT

ON MONDAY MORNING, Melanie opened the shop a few minutes before the usual 6:00 a.m. start. Emmie, never an early riser, rarely worked the morning shift. Usually Melanie was here alone until about ten. Between the busy bursts, she liked the moments of quiet in the shop, the regulars who stopped in before work.

The bell jingled and Melanie turned, expecting to see Max, the owner of the bakery on Fourth Street. He provided the more complicated baked goods—bagels, doughnuts and cheesecakes—that rounded out her food case.

But it wasn’t Max. And it sure as heck wasn’t a bagel.

It was Cade, looking too handsome for a man who was at work before the sun finished breaking over the horizon. Today, he wore a light blue golf shirt that set off the color of his eyes and a pair of neatly pressed khakis.

Who had ironed them? Cade? The dry cleaner? Or someone else?

The thought of another woman doing what she had done for more than half her life, for the man she had once loved, slammed into her with a power Melanie hadn’t expected.

She’d walked out the door of their house a year ago, intent on starting a life that wasn’t defined by being Mrs. Cade Matthews.

She just hadn’t thought he’d do the same thing.

Melanie shook off the thought. If Cade dated someone else, or married again, it was none of her business. And it shouldn’t bother her one bit.

But it did. Oh boy, did it.

She put on a “I’m not affected by you one bit” smile, but suspected it was as see-through as lace. “What are you doing here?”

“Working,” he said, grinning. “Wasn’t that the plan?”

“I’d say that plan fell by the wayside yesterday.” To be honest, after she’d broken off their kiss and turned down his invitation to dinner, she hadn’t expected him to come back.

He put his hands up. “That won’t happen again. No more kisses.”

“Good.” A twinge of disappointment ran through her, but Melanie ignored it. “The morning rush will start pretty soon, so put this on,” she tossed an apron to him, the white fabric unfurling as it crossed the distance, “and be ready to latte.”

Cade gave her a grin. “Sounds kinda kinky.”

She laughed, then sobered when she realized that once again, she’d be in close quarters with Cade. Considering how well that had gone yesterday, and how much willpower she’d had, she might as well drop her head into a trough of chocolate. The calories from the sweets would be far easier to deal with than what kissing Cade could lead to.

Before she could tell Cade to stay or go—or even more, kiss her again—Max was there with his baked goods, followed by a trio of customers. The morning flood made both of them too busy for the next two hours to think about anything that didn’t involve caffeine. Cooter wandered in, got his cup of coffee, then headed for his favorite armchair with his paper and mug.

When the last customer had been served, she turned to Cade. All morning, she’d been aware of him, brushed against him more than once, igniting the same rush of hormones as before. There was no way she could tolerate a week of this.

She shook off the attraction. It was simply that she had been alone for an entire year. The lack of male company made her more vulnerable. It certainly wasn’t the way Cade looked, the sound of his laughter as he joked with the customers, or the repartee that had flowed between him and Melanie as easily as milk.

“I know you thought we needed this time together before the reunion,” she said, “but really, Cade, I’m sure we can pull off being married for a couple of hours without any additional ‘practice.’”

“Oh, yeah?” He quirked a brow at her. “How about we try it for ten minutes?”

“What do you mean?”

He gestured toward the front door of the shop.

“Because Jeanie Jenkins is just getting out of her car and coming into the shop.”

“This damned place is busier than a garbage truck full of flies,” Cooter muttered, shuffling his paper to the next section.

“Jeannie?” Melanie wheeled around. An older version of the Jeannie that Melanie remembered was indeed, getting out of an illegally parked silver Benz, striding up the walkway and toward the shop. She was as thin as she had been in her cheerleading days, and still sported the same long, curly hair. Even her clothes were more fitting a twenty-year-old than a near forty-year-old. If Melanie hadn’t seen her face, she’d have thought Jeannie hadn’t aged a minute since high school.

“Melanie!” Jeannie exclaimed, bursting through the door with outstretched arms, as if spying Melanie was like stumbling upon an oasis. She hurried across the shop and grabbed Melanie from across the counter, gathering her into a tight hug.

“Jeannie,” Melanie said, pulling back to inhale after that octopus grab. “What are you doing here?”

“Why seeing your little coffee shop, of course! I just couldn’t stay away once you told me about it.” A gossip finding mission, more than anything else, Melanie suspected. Jeannie toodled a wave Cade’s way. He gave her a hello back.

Melanie had thought she’d have a week to prepare for appearing in public with Cade—not to mention a killer dress to boost her confidence. But standing here in jeans, a T-shirt emblazoned with the shop’s logo and an apron that had a chocolate syrup stain on the front did little to boost her self-confidence. Or make her feel like half of Westvale High’s equivalent of Romeo and Juliet.

Melanie put a smile on her face, then grabbed a mug from the clean ones on the shelf behind her. “Can I get you something?”

“Sure. Something non-fat, decaf and sugar-free.” Jeanie waved a hand vaguely. “Whatever you have that does all that and tastes good.”

A tall order, but Melanie did her best, combining skim milk, sugar-free caramel and almond syrups with a couple shots of decaf espresso to make a nicely flavored latte. Jeannie dumped in three packets of artificial sweetener, then took a sip. “This is great. Who knew you could do all that with a few beans?”

“Lawford’s a couple hours fromWestvale. I’m surprised you drove that far for a cup of coffee, Jeannie,” Melanie said, doing a little fishing of her own.

“Oh, it wasn’t just the coffee. I’m also here for a Stickly.” She took another petite sip.

“A what?”

“Stickly table,” Jeannie explained. “There’s this little antique shop in Mercy, which is, like, really near here. Wait…Mel, don’t your grandparents own an antique shop?” Jeannie grinned. “Maybe they’d consider beating the Mercy shop’s price.”

“They used to own one. Right in this space, actually. But when they passed away, I turned the space into Cuppa Life.”

“Oh,” Jeannie said, clearly disappointed all she was getting out of the visit was some free coffee.

“Too bad. I’m totally, like, wild about Stickly. I’ve been looking for ages for a table to finish off my house and then wham, there was one, in this month’s issue of Antiques. I was up for a road trip, and then I remembered you had this shop here, and then before I knew it, like, here I was!”

“It was nice of you to stop in,” Melanie said, wondering how long Jeannie planned to stay, because having Cade standing right next to her had Melanie’s pulse skittering. If she inhaled, she knew she’d catch the notes of his cologne—a woodsy scent that had played its music in her heart for years.

“Quite the surprise.”

“I agree.” Cade slipped an arm around Melanie’s waist, drawing her inches closer. He pressed a kiss to her hair, soft, gentle. The wall around Melanie began to crumble. She found herself leaning into him, wanting more, wanting to believe this was real—

And not an act for Jeannie.

“Aw, you guys are still so sweet.” Jeannie sighed.

“I swear, all the good guys are taken.”

Melanie didn’t answer, just smiled back. Cade clutched her tighter, but as the reality of Jeannie’s words hit her, she quit believing this was real. This was, after all, their trial run.

In the end, she’d have her building and Cade would have his job in Chicago. A win-win, he’d called it. Even if right now, it felt like one of them was losing.

“That reminds me.” Jeannie grinned at them over the rim of her cup. “I didn’t just drive out here for a table and a java. I have another ulterior motive. I’m killing three pigeons with one, like, tree.”

“An ulterior motive?” Melanie echoed.

“Susan and I were talking the other day and we thought how cool it would be to bring back everything we loved about high school. Like, definitely not the teachers or that awful Algebra torture, but the good stuff.” Jeannie grinned, then sipped at her coffee before continuing. “Especially prom night. I mean, everyone’s going to be in fancy dresses and suits anyway, so we thought we’d recreate that whole, like, prom thing.”

Prom night had been the night Melanie had lost her virginity to Cade. The night they’d made love, and in their youthful rashness of forgotten protection, ended up with Emmie. It was the night that had turned the tide of her life, and though she would never want to give back Emmie, she would have loved to change the way that night had turned out.

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea, Jeannie,” Melanie said. “Not everyone had a great experience at prom.”

“Well, that’s where you guys come in.” She leaned forward, eyes glittering with excitement. “You’re going to be prom king and queen. Get the crowd all revved up for the whole thing.”

“Us? But—”

“Oh, but you have to,” Jeannie said, laying a hand over Melanie’s. “You two are the only ones who are still together, at least of the couples who met in high school.”

“What about Jerry Mitchell? Wasn’t he with Danielle?” Cade asked.

Jeannie waved a hand. “They broke up ages ago. Something about Danielle having a backup plan.”

“Most people have backup plans.” Cade sent a glance Melanie’s way.

“Yeah, but Danielle’s backup plan was to wait for a better offer.” Jeannie arched a brow. “From a younger man. A waiter at that. I mean, if you’re going to toss a husband aside, at least trade up.”

Melanie shook her head, thinking of the kid who had sat behind her in sophomore English and complained his way through diagramming sentences. “Poor Jerry.”

“It’s okay. He’s been hitched to someone else for, like, two whole years now. Beat my record already.” Jeannie took another tiny sip, so small it would take her an hour to finish the coffee. No wonder Jeannie was so thin. She ate more like a bird than a human. “So anyway,” Jeannie went on, “we were thinking you and Cade could be the reunion king and queen. Lead us in the first dance, the toast. All that stuff.”

Dance with Cade? This was going way beyond a speech. It meant taking their happily married act to a whole other level. Melanie had intended to go in, help Cade with Bill, make the speech, then leave. Not hang around for a reenactment of The Finest Moments of Cade and Melanie. “Jeannie, I don’t—”

“We’d be glad to,” Cade said, his arm around her waist feeling so familiar, so warm…