The sick pleasure I get from it warms my toes.
The problem is this Justin is so different from the boy I once knew. Well, in some ways he’s different... in other ways, the best ways, he’s exactly the same. He’s still charming and easy to talk to. Crazy determined and driven. From the little I’ve seen and heard over the last few weeks, he’s also still surprisingly introspective and protective. But there’s a confidence there that wasn’t before. Justin as a freshman was cocky and arrogant for sure, but this new self-confidence is quieter. Deeper. It’s like he knows what he wants now and isn’t trying to hide it.
A few feet away, his gaze sharpens as if he can read my thoughts.
What he wants now is me.
“Thank God this project’s almost over,” Cade mutters, and I blink and look away, breaking eye contact with Justin. “The sooner we get that loser away from you, the better.”
My tongue is going to be sore tomorrow from all the biting. “Uh huh.”
Usually, Cade is the least jealous guy I know. He doesn’t act like a caveman or like those possessive jerks I read about in some of my books. He’s actually really chill. It’s just that Justin Carter has always been his kryptonite. To this, I can relate.
A pop fly is caught for the second out and Justin heads to the plate. I loop my arm through Cade’s, feeling guilty for making him insecure, and lay my head on his shoulder.
A few minutes pass, enough for Justin to hit a double, and I think the subject is dropped. But then Cade says, “The whole thing is stupid anyway. If anything, I should be the one doing this project with you, not him. I’m the one you’re gonna be with in the end.”
Cade has our whole future planned. After we’re married, we’ll continue working both ranches, my family’s and his, until the day we take over and merge the two together. Most of the horses will then relocate to his land, along with the future riding school, while my family’s land will host all the birthday parties, scout events, and, of course, the dog boarding business.
Where exactly running my own veterinary practice fits in the middle of all that, I’m not really sure, but I’m sure we’ll figure it out. This is Cade, after all. He’s a problem solver.
“What sort of things do the two of you talk about anyway?”
I tear my gaze away from the field. “Huh?”
Cade gives me a patient smile, the one that drives me just the tiniest bit batty, and says, “For the project. You said it’s mostly answering a bunch of questions and writing the paper. What sort of things do they want to know?”
Hmm. This sounds like the beginning of a slippery slope if I’ve heard of one. Warning signs practically blind me with their flashes. But answering does seem like the better of two evils, the other option being to say nothing or change the subject, and let Cade imagine the worst. That would not end well at all. So, I give him an example.
“Okay, here’s one of the questions we went over in class yesterday.” I turn slightly to face him on the bleachers. “If we only had $1,000 and three days for a honeymoon, where would we go, and what would we do?”
Cade makes a scoffing sound in his throat and I withhold a sigh. “It’s about learning how to live on a budget and compromise,” I explain, wishing we’d never started this to begin with. “You said you wanted to know.”
“Yeah, well what’s he know about living on a budget anyway?” He motions to Justin who is taking the field with the team and my hackles rise. Cade’s family is loaded too, almost as much as the Carters, so his attitude is completely ridiculous. But I say nothing.
“Do you want to answer the question or not?”
Cade exhales, shaking off whatever he’d been thinking, and sits up straight. “Three-day honeymoon and only a grand, huh?”
I nod in confirmation, more than slightly annoyed, but also extremely curious to hear his answer.
“Easy,” he says. “Stay home.”
He shrugs as if this is the most obvious choice, and my mouth parts in confusion. “We’d throw most of it towards your student loans,” he explains. “It wouldn’t make a huge dent or anything, but every little bit helps, right? Besides, we don’t need a big, fancy vacation. We’ve got each other. If anything, maybe we’d take a couple hundred and go down to Galveston, invite Faith and whoever she’s stringing along at the time, and make a party out of it.”
Right. A party with my bestie at the beach. Because nothing spells romance like a group date and smart financial planning.
I school my expression as best I can because, I mean, I get it. Thanks to those medical bills, it’s pretty much a given that my college experience will be funded by the good old folks at Sallie Mae. But must Cade always be so stinking practical?