Better (Too Good series) (35 page)

BOOK: Better (Too Good series)
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“And?”

She shrugged. Secretly she liked it, but she didn’t think she had the guts to wear it in public.

“Go climb on that bed,” Mark ordered. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm.”

She obeyed, lying on her back and staring at the ceiling. He walked over to her and pulled her to the edge of the bed.

“I’m gonna make you come right through these bikini bottoms,” he said, kneeling in front of her.

“You don’t wanna take them off?” she suggested. She wanted his mouth directly on her.

He shook his head. “Not yet anyway. I’m gonna make you come like this, and then I’ll take these bottoms off and make you come all over again.”

“They’ll hear,” Cadence whispered.

“So what?”

She wondered if she really cared.

“I’ll try to be quiet.”

“Please don’t,” Mark replied, licking up the crotch of her bathing suit.

She moaned. “Okay. I won’t.”

 

The following
evening, all four sat on the tiny deck overlooking the ocean. Avery nursed a mild sunburn. Dylan strummed his guitar. Mark and Cadence cuddled on a chaise lounge.

“I wish I could cuddle,” Avery groaned.

“Well, I told you to reapply your sunscreen,” Cadence said.

She was wise to spend most of her time under the umbrella. She did, however, take a stroll down the beach with Avery, showing off her fringe bikini and half her ass. She blamed it on the orgasm Mark gave her
the previous day—the one where his lips didn’t even come into direct contact with her secret flesh. That orgasm changed her whole perspective. It said, “You’re young. Embrace it while you can.”

“So I can look like a ghost like you?” Avery asked.

Cadence giggled. “Because looking like a tomato is soooo much better than looking like a ghost.”

“Whatever,” Avery said. She slapped her arm when a mosquito landed on her. “Motherfucker!!”

“There’s bug spray,” Mark said.

Avery huffed and took another swig of her beer.

“You want me to sing you a song, baby?” Dylan asked. “Would that make you feel better?”

“No. I’m just gonna get drunk. That’ll erase the pain.”

“Oh my God, Avery. You act like you have a first-degree burn or something. You’re pink. That’s it,” Cadence said.

“Shut up, ho. It freaking hurts.”

“I’ll sing you a song,” Dylan decided. He strummed the opening measures of a familiar Dave Matthews song: “Crash Into Me.” Overplayed on the radio, but Dylan’s version sounded brand new, and it made all four fall in love with the melody all over again.

“You sing, Cadence,” Mark said. “Your voice is so pretty.”

“It’s too low,” she replied.


I can fix that,” Dylan said. He pulled out his kapo and attached it to the guitar neck. He strummed the same measures. They were higher this time. “Better?”

Cadence nodded. She sat up
and gave him a few more bars—a few more seconds to show off his skills for Avery before she took over. Before she outshined him.

It wasn’t
the Sunday hymn she used to sing for a packed church. It wasn’t a song for spiritual renewal, but it was a spiritual song. And it was healing. She sang about the connection between two lovers, crashing together in heated, physical passion. The need for another human being. Skin on skin. That fusion of minds and hearts. The need for constant love—dirty, wrecked, beautiful, painful, imperfect, essential.

Love.

Better than hope. Better than faith.

The greatest thing.

Mark walked into the classroom and tossed his messenger bag on the front desk. He searched for a dry erase marker in the drawers until he came across a green one. Green—his favorite color. Well, maybe this class wouldn’t be so bad after all. It was Applied Algebra, a freshmen requirement. He didn’t mind the freshmen too much. They actually provided a reprieve in his busy schedule. The material was easy to teach, but he just enjoyed how ridiculous freshmen were. Generally flighty. Usually lost. Sometimes tardy. He cut them some slack because he knew they didn’t know what the hell they were doing. He experienced it once—a long time ago—with his own little lost freshman.

He
grinned and scrawled his name on the board. He always wrote “Mark Connelly;” never “Dr. Connelly.” He thought “Dr.” was pretentious. So what that he passed his dissertation? So did a lot of other people. The sixteen years since completing his Ph.D. taught him to look at accomplishments in a very different way. Making someone laugh. Easing a worry. Apologizing and meaning it. These were the accomplishments that mattered most to him.

“I’m Mark,” he said, addressing the freshmen.
He pushed a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “You can call me Mark, Mr. Connelly, Dr. Connelly.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “I had one student who liked to call me Doc Con.”

The class chuckled.

“He said it was hardcore and that people would look at me with more respect.”

More laughter.

“Now that I think about it, he got the entire class to call me that all semester. Kinda made me feel like a superhero, if I’m being honest.”

A few girls in the front row giggled.

Mark scratched the stubble on his cheek. “Yeah, so whatever you wanna call me is fine, so long as it’s respectful.” He glanced over the roster. “I don’t plan to use this after today. I don’t take attendance. If you don’t wanna show up for class, that’s your business. You’re the one paying for school, after all. So it makes no difference to me.”

He scanned the room, studying the reactions of the students. Most stared blankly at him, but he could tell a few liked the sound of his words and that he probably wouldn’t see them much after this class.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, though.”

Complete silence, like they were holding their breath
.

“It’s inevitable that you
will
fail if you don’t show up. So think about that.”

He leaned
against the desk and started calling roll.

“. . . Emily Binder . . .”

“Here.”


. . . Darrel Connacht . . .”

“Here.”

“. . . Cadence Connelly?”

“Here,” came a small voice from the back of the classroom.

Mark craned his neck to see her. She peeked her head out from behind a large boy sitting directly in front of her. She grinned, then bit her lower lip. He studied her face for a moment. She wore little makeup because she didn’t need it. He thought by now she should look tired and worn, but she sat there just as fresh-faced as her nineteen-year-old classmates. His eyes moved to that long golden hair draped over her left shoulder in a side ponytail. Who the hell did she think she was, wearing her hair like a teenager? He grinned at her—his acknowledgement of her little game.

“Look at that,” Mark said softly. “We have the same last name.”

She nodded and disappeared behind the boy.

Mark cleared his throat and continued down the list of students until roll was completed. Then he balled the paper and threw it in the trash.

The rest of the class period was spent going over the syllabus. Mark started a lesson, but it was cut short when a student reminded him of the time.

“Yeah, that’s another thing,” he c
alled over the noise of everyone packing their bags. “Remind me when class is over. I tend to forget.”

Students filed out of the room, and he glimpsed the girl with the golden hair among them.
She was just outside the door when he called to her.

“Cadence, will you hang back a minute?”

She waited until everyone left before walking back in. She approached Mark, who sat on the edge of the desk, Converse All Star-clad feet dangling off the side, hands folded in his lap. She stood within inches of him and waited.

He considered her for a moment.

“I think you’re the sweetest thing,” he said.

She blushed and hung her head.

“I . . . I hope you understand how dangerous this is—us being together,” he continued.

She stifled a laugh.

“I mean, no one could ever know, Cadence. You’re my student, and it’s inappropriate, and I could lose my job.”

A giggle snuck out.

“You’re not taking this seriously,” Mark said. He was so much better at playing than she was. His voice didn’t falter once. He sounded really serious, so she took a deep breath, regained her composure, and tried her hardest to play along.

“I take it seriously, Dr. Connelly. I would never want you to lose your job because of me. I’ll be careful. I won’t say anything.

She moved closer to him, standing between his legs, and placed her hands on the tops of his thighs.
He watched her diamond-encrusted wedding band sparkle.

“We’ll have to be sneaky. Dishonest. You can’t look at me in class like you did today,” she said. “It’s too obvious, and people’ll start to figure it out.”

He nodded.

She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “Why do you have to be so sexy, Dr. Connelly?”

“We shouldn’t do this here,” Mark whispered back.

“I know,” Cadence replied. She turned her head and glimpsed the open door. Sh
e saw students moving through the hallway, but no one came inside the classroom. She turned back to Mark. “Just promise me whatever happens—if we’re discovered, if you have to report to the dean or something, if you lose your job—just promise you’ll always be there for me.”

Mark smiled. “I promise, sweetheart. I’ll always be there for you.”

Cadence offered her lips for a light kiss, but Mark decided he needed more. He cradled her head in his hand and kissed her deeply, searching her mouth slowly and thoughtfully with his tongue. She moaned into his mouth, the sensation like a low humming of bees that tickled his tongue. He drew back, kissed the tip of her nose, then released her head.


I thought you signed up for a pottery class,” he said.

She shrugged. “This seemed like more fun.”

He chuckled. “Are you seriously registered for this class?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re gonna sit through an entire semester of it?”

“Yes.”

“Who’s watching the shop when you’re here?”

“Danica
.”

He paused.
“You trust her with all those orders?”

“Sort of.”

He grinned. “Who’s putting together the arrangements?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He shook his head. “I don’t get it. Why?”

She smiled
. “You know I’m terrible at math. I thought I could use a refresher course.”

“But I’m compromised, you see? Because I’m sleeping with you. You know I’ll give you an ‘A’ even if you fail every quiz and test.”

She winked at him. “Oh, I know.”

He smirked. “You’re such a bad girl.”

She was quick to jump on that. “I worked for a long damn time to be good, and look where it got me.”

“You ended up with me,”
he pointed out.

“Yeah. When I turned bad.”

Mark burst out laughing. Cadence leaned in for a goodbye peck on the cheek.

“Don’t you dare be late to Elizabeth’s recital,” she warned. “Once they close the doors, no one’s allowed in.
Seven-thirty tonight.”

“On my schedule.”

“And I told Caleb you’d go with him this weekend to look at snowboards. I don’t know a damn thing about them, so that’s your job.”

“He called me this morning and reminded me. On my calendar,” Mark said.

“I have that wedding this weekend. I can’t take Elizabeth shopping. She needs new jeans.”

“Cadence, please don’t make me do that. I don’t know anything about jeans,” Mark said.

“Figure it out. She needs jeans and dad time,” Cadence replied.

Mark sighed pleasantly. “You got it.”

“Avery has it in her head that we agreed to do dinner at her place this Sunday,” Cadence said.


We did. I talked to Dylan about it already.”

“Is this teenager-friendly?” Cadence asked.

“Um, I don’t think so.”

Cadence huffed. “I’
m not dumping the kids on your mother again.”

“Oh, she loves it,” Mark replied. “Dump all you want. Or let ‘em stay home alone.”

Cadence snorted. “Uh, yeah right.”

“Afraid they’ll sneak off and get into trouble like you and Avery used to?” Mark asked, grinning.

“Yes. And not funny.”

“It
’s hilarious. And I’m so glad you did it. Otherwise, there’d be no this,” he said, moving his finger between the two of them.

Cadence smiled. “I love you to pieces.”

He stared at her face. “Did I tell you this morning how beautiful you look?”

She
shook her head.

“Then I should make it up to you.”

“How so?”

“Well, why don’t you come to my office right now and find out,” Mark replied.
“I have a letter for your parents anyway.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Cadence laughed. “Yeah, I bet you do.” She
checked the time on her cell phone. “Whatever you’ve got planned, I only have five minutes to spare. Ten tops.”

“I’
ll work my hardest.”

She took his hand and pulled him along, out the door, and down the hallway
to his office. Once the door was closed, he picked her up and set her on the edge of his desk.

“I’m gon
na love you for the rest of my life. You know that? Even when my mind goes and I’ve no idea who or where I am, I’ll know you. And I’ll love you.”

She cupped his face in her hands, moving her thumbs over his sandpaper cheeks. She stared into the same steely eyes that captivated her at seventeen, and she was that young girl all over
again, desperate for his love.

“Did you hear me, Cadence?” he asked softly. “I’m gonna love you forever.”

“Oh, I heard you,” she replied. “And you better.”

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