He eyed me carefully. “Caine is a good friend. I knew something was going on between you two from the start, and although he’s never been the most forthcoming guy, he was weirdly cagey about you. And I wasn’t joking about the whole possessive thing. You have no idea how many times he bit my head off when I mentioned how attractive you are. It came as no surprise to me to find you two going at each other on Saturday night.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I didn’t think it would be a surprise to you. I knew what you were up to the night of the Andersons’ ball. Really, Henry, you should consider leaving banking for matchmaking.”
He smirked. “So you two are together. No surprise. To anyone. You have to know most of his staff has been speculating about you two since the beginning.”
Uncomfortable at the thought, I frowned. “You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”
“No.” He stepped toward me. “Which brings me to my point. Why is it a secret? I know Caine well enough to know he could give a fuck if anyone knew he was sleeping with his PA, so that’s not the reason for the secrecy.”
And there it was. The question I’d seen burning in his eyes the moment I saw him perched on my desk. “Henry, if Caine wants to tell you his business, he will. Ask. And see. What you don’t do is ask me. I’ll never betray his confidence.”
Henry studied me a moment, all humor and teasing leaving him. “You care about him,” he murmured.
I didn’t reply. There was no need. I’d worked out a while ago that Henry Lexington was more perceptive than he let on.
“Lexie,” he said, his voice low, concerned, “Caine isn’t … No matter how he feels for you … don’t expect …”
My heart was pounding in my chest. “Don’t expect what?”
“Just …” He reached up to clasp my shoulder in a comforting gesture. “You’re a good person, and I’m glad you’ve got his back … but I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Uneasiness settled over me, and I fought desperately to push it back. Henry’s opinions were based on what he knew of Caine, but he didn’t know how his friend acted around me.
He didn’t know that this weekend was a breakthrough for us.
I held on to my confidence, letting it bite back at the uncertainty. “I won’t,” I promised.
“I’m still not sure it’s a good idea for us to be seen together here.” I glanced warily around us.
It was a warm Thursday afternoon and Caine and I had been in Beacon Hill for a brunch meeting. To my surprise he’d suggested we stick around during our lunch hour, some of which we passed with a stroll through the public gardens. We walked over the bridge, watching tour guides pedal by on the swan boats.
“I think as long as we don’t start groping each other, we’ll be fine,” Caine said.
My eyes flew to his face at the irritation in his words. Sure enough, the telltale sign of his annoyance was in the twitch of muscles in his jaw.
It had been nearly a week since the party and I’d never felt closer to Caine. However, this was the first sign he’d shown me that hiding our relationship bothered him.
I kept my silence, not sure how to address the issue since there was really nothing we could do about it. Of course, I knew we couldn’t go on like this forever, but until I had some sure sign from Caine of the permanency of our relationship, I saw no point in taking on the headache of trying to work out how to deal with my father’s family.
Just thinking about it gave me a headache. I sighed and stepped off the path, the grass tickling the exposed parts of my feet as I wandered down to the lake edge to watch the ducks and geese. A squirrel, completely unconcerned by my presence, shot by my feet and scurried up a nearby weeping willow tree. I tilted my face up to the sun and closed my eyes.
A few seconds later Caine’s arm brushed mine.
“What are you thinking?” he said.
“How peaceful it is in here. How uncomplicated.” I opened my eyes to meet his curious gaze. “People jogging, people sunbathing, people doing yoga, strolling, sleeping, relaxing. The worries get left outside on the street. They pick them back up as soon as they walk out of here.”
“And what are you worried about?”
Honestly, everything, I thought. You, me, my grandfather, my job. None of it was weighed down by the solidity of any security. Not one thing was permanent. Not me and Caine, and certainly not my position in his company, because if we ended, then my career ended. And my grandfather … My relationship with him was as uncertain as it was secretive. I could leave Boston and it would be like our days together had never happened.
I tried to shake off the sudden melancholy, wondering how I could go from being so happy to so scared within the span of five minutes.
I gave Caine a small smile. “Nothing.”
His gaze sharpened, as though he didn’t believe me. He moved toward me and just as he did I felt a wet plop hit my head.
My eyes widened as Caine’s flew to my hair. “No,” I said in denial.
His lips twitched. “Yes.”
Horrified, I gave a little hysterical laugh. “Please tell me … a bird did not just shit on my head.”
Caine gave a bark of laughter.
“Caine!” I watched him give in to his amusement, and if it hadn’t been for the smelly bird poop in my hair, I would have been delighted to see him laugh. However, this was not amusing! I grimaced, raising a hand to my hair but afraid to touch it to discover where the mess had occurred. “It’s not funny.” I slapped him across the arm and that just made him laugh harder. “You choose now to be immature? I have bird shit in my hair!”
“Stop it,” he breathed, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. He choked on his mirth, taking a step toward me. “Keep saying that and I won’t be able to stop laughing.”
“It’s not funny.” I wrinkled my nose. “It’s vile.”
He smiled, his gaze going to the mess. “You were just so serious and then …”
“Bird poop,” I finished. He choked again and I held up my hand in warning. “Don’t even. I have to go back to the office. I can’t go with—” I cut myself off, not wanting to set his hilarity off again by using the phrase bird shit.
Suddenly the humor of it hit me.
Caine Carraway laughed like a schoolboy over bird poop.
Who knew?
As he watched my lips twitch, Caine’s demeanor warmed with tenderness. “We’ll head up to my apartment …” He looked around, his gaze arrested on something. “For now …”