Playing it Kale (The McCain Saga Book 4) (19 page)

The realization hits me.
 
As long as the rest of the world drools over
Kale McCain, I’m always going to have to share him.

And sharing sucks.

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN

There was no way I was going to try and
seduce my boyfriend after seeing his hands all over another woman that
day.
 
Yes, I got that it didn’t mean
anything to him, that it was just work.
 
But still, my ego needed a day to recover.

By Wednesday, though, I’ve had
enough.
 
I get to come home for a few
minutes after an interview before having to head out for another.
 
When I walk through the door, Kale isn’t
home, and for twenty seconds I get to be disappointed.

Then he walks through the door.
 
He wears a work out shirt that exposes his
currently muscle ripped arms.
 
He’s
sweaty and shiny.

But his eyes meet mine, and every
hormone in me explodes.

He doesn’t even get to say a word.
 
I rush across the living room, launching
myself at him.
 
My legs wrap around his
hips.
 
My fingers knot in his hair,
pulling his head back so I could take his mouth however I want.

My heartbeat roars in my ears, and I have
no doubt Kale could feel it pulse through every part of my body.

Kale pushes the door closed behind him
and turns to pin my body against the wall.
 
Which is amazing cause it’s all the harder he can press his hard body
into me.

His hips grind into my center and all
the nerve endings in me go into nuclear countdown.

My hands go for the hem of his shirt and
I literally
rip
it in my haste to get
it off him.

Kale breathes a curse into my neck.
 
“I want you, Whitney,” he says as his muscles
flex and twitch with desire.

And just as I’m about to tell him to
take me, the front door opens and there’s Tony.
 
Always interrupting Tony.

He swears and turns away from us.
 
“Sorry, Miss Ford, but we have to leave
now.
 
We’re already running late.”

“Shit, Tony!” Kale yells as he lets me
off the wall.
 
“Don’t you know how to
knock?”

“I will work on that, Mr. McCain.”
 
He sounds chastised, but he’s also trying to
suppress a laugh.

“We’re not finished,” I say to Kale,
pointing at him as I follow Tony out the door.

As it closes behind us, I hear Kale yell
behind it, “Hell yes!”

I probably sound like more of an idiot
than I normally do.
 
All I can think
about is Kale and me and that amazing wall.
 
I am on the edge of a sexual cliff, and I will blissfully let Kale push
me off of it tonight.

This interview is taking forever.
 
This dinner meeting is excruciating.
 
This traffic driving home will kill me.

But then there’s our building.
 
Here’s the elevator.

Tony and I walk down our hall.
 
Finally, my hand closes on my doorknob.
 
Tony always watches me until I go inside.

I give him one look, stern and
serious.
 
“You are not to under any
circumstances disturb us until at least ten tomorrow morning.
 
Got it?
 
Unless someone is dead or dying, don’t you dare come
in.
 
Or let anyone else in.”

Tony’s smile is a small thing on his
narrow lips.
 
But he’s got mischief in
his eyes and a bit of an eye roll.
 

Dumb,
horny kids,
that’s probably what he’s thinking.
 
But what.
 
Freaking.
 
Ever.

“You got it,” he says in that low,
rumbly voice.
 
And he turns back for his
own apartment.

And finally, finally, I open the door to
our apartment.

Kale is sitting at the dining table, a
jug of orange juice and some take out in front of him that is unopened.
 
He was scrolling through his phone, but the
second I shut the door, he looks over at me, his eyes uncertain but wide.

“You and me,” I say as I strip my jacket
off and kick my shoes into a corner.
 
“That bed.
 
Right
now.”

“You and me, angel,” he says as he leaps
up from the chair, knocking it right over.
 
We meet somewhere in the middle of the living room, and I don’t even
remember my feet leaving the floor.
 
My
legs are suddenly just around his hips, my lips devouring his.
 
As he walks us to the bedroom, he finds the
hem of my shirt and yanks it up and over my head.
 

Our bedroom door slams open, pounding
the wall and bouncing back at us to smack me on the rear end.
 
Kale
stumbles
us
forward, and tips the both of us right over onto the bed.

I kneel on it and start working with his
belt.
 
My fingers are shaking with
excitement and it takes me far longer than I’d like.

“Oh my hell,” I say, still struggling
with it.
 
“Get this damn thing off!”

Kale chuckles and gets it undone in one
second flat.
 
And his pants hit the
floor.
 
He pushes my shoulders, sending
me flat on my back.

Hooking his fingers into my vintage
skirt, he slides it down over my thighs, over my ankles, and flings it into a
corner.

“Damn, you drive me crazy, angel,” he
whispers as he bends down and kisses my thigh.
 
My fingers knot in his hair as he kisses his way up my leg.
 
My back arches as he kisses across the front
of my pink lace underwear and starts his way up my stomach.
 
His tongue flicks into my bellybutton and a
firework explodes in my lower belly.

Somewhere, off in the distance, one of
our phones starts ringing.

My fingers move from his hair and to his
shirt.
 
Why he’s still wearing one is the
world’s biggest mystery.
 
But half a
second later, it’s gone.

“I want you to take it tonight, Kale,” I
breathe as his lips finally make their way up to my neck.
 
Here I am, wearing only a bra and panties,
quivering and ready to rip apart into explosions.

“This means everything, that you’re
giving this to
me
,” Kale says.
 
And the way he says it, there’s almost
reverence in his voice.
 
“I swear
,
you’re going to be my last first anything, ever.”

“Kale,” I breathe into his mouth.

With only two thin layers of fabric
between us, Kale grinds his hips into mine, and I swear I’m going to lose my
ever loving mind with the things that he does to me.

Kale kneels on the bed between my legs
and pulls me up so we’re chest to chest.
 
And with hands that are gentle, but shake in a way that surprises me, he
unclasps my bra.

Nearly two months now.
 
That’s how long we’ve been together.
 
That’s how long I’ve needed to take things
slow.

Kale doesn’t rush it.
 
My bra falls between us, landing somewhere on
the bed.
 
But he holds me close, his
kisses deep and searching.
 
These kisses
of his crush my soul into a million pieces and rearrange them into something
that could never ever exist without him.

One of his hands slides down from the
back of my neck, over my bare back, and slips into my underwear.
 
A soft moan escapes my throat as one of our
phones starts ringing again off in the distance.

“I love you, Whitney,” he says
softly.
 
“For the rest of forever, I’m
going to love you.”

And as every hormone in me pushes me
toward something fiery and grand, I feel the words build up inside of me.
 

I do love this man.
 
I want to be with him for forever.
 
I want to run away together and make love and
never breathe without him.
 
Me and Kale, for the rest of now, today, tomorrow.

“I
lov
—”

But as the words leave my mouth, there’s
our door, once again, bursting open.
 
And
there’s Calvin.

“What the hell are you doing?” Kale
bellows as he throws himself in front of me and I scramble for a pillow to
cover myself up with.
 
“Calvin?
 
Get the hell out!”

“I’m sorry,” he says, not even effected
by the sight of us both basically naked about to get it on.
 
“But shut up and listen.”
 
He’s holding his cell phone in one slightly
shaking hand.
 
“It’s Sage on the
phone.
 
It’s about your dad.”

“What?” Kale asks, all the fight in him
seeping out.
 

“It’s not good,” Calvin breathes.

“Give me that,” Kale says, scrambling
from the bed and yanking the phone from Calvin’s hands.
 
“Sage?
 
Yeah, what’s going on?”

Calvin looks over at me, and that
expression in his eyes, I know this can’t be good.
 
Calvin doesn’t display too many emotions,
ever, but that haunted look, it makes emotion prick at the back of my eyes, and
I don’t even know what’s going on.

Kale presses a hand into his eyes and
his entire body tenses us.
 
“How long
have they known?” he asks.
 
There’s a truck
load of emotion swelling up in his voice.
 
“How long does he have left?”

I can barely hear anything over the
sound of my heart beating in my ears.
 
And all I can think, over and over is,
please
no.
 
Please no.

“Yeah,” Kale says as his voice
cracks.
 
“I’m on my way.”

The phone drops from Kale’s hand and
clatters onto the floor.
 

Before it even hits the ground, a sob
breaks from Kale’s chest.
 
His arms come
up to wrap around his head and his shoulders start shaking.

“I’m so sorry,” Calvin says as he grabs
his phone.
 
He pats Kale’s shoulder just
once.
 
And looking unsure of what to do,
he turns and leaves.

I climb from the bed.
 
My footsteps fall silent next to Kale’s
uncontrolled cries as I walk to him.
 
I
wrap my arms around him, my bare breasts pressing into him.
 
The second he feels me, he wraps his arms
around me, burying his face in my neck, and continues to sob.

Not ten seconds later,
Kale’s legs won’t hold him any longer.
 
We sink to the ground, me holding Kale, and
him crying in agony.

Robert McCain was diagnosed a week ago
with stage four aggressive prostate
cancer
.

It’s spread
everywhere
.

He has less than a week to live.

CHAPTER
NINETEEN

Kale flies out two hours later.
 
It’s late, and he won’t get into Seattle
until one in the morning, but he’ll get there as fast as he possibly can.
 

I spend an hour on the phone fighting
with Hadley and Elysium.
 
Kale needs
me.
 
I need to be with him.
 

But they have me solidly booked and
lined up for the next five days.
 
The
soonest I can leave is Tuesday.

“I will be there the second I can,” I
say through tears as Tony and I drop Kale off at the airport.

Kale gives me a distracted kiss and a
“yeah” before he barrels out of the car and into the airport.
 
And as I watch him go, I feel as if there’s a
little piece of my soul that is splitting in two.

Damn interviews.
 
Damn publicity shoots.
 
Damn entertainment news.

Damn crowds outside my apartment at all
times.

The next five days are agony.
 
And every day, I pray that it won’t be too late
before I get there.

Kale doesn’t call, and I doubt he’d be
able to say much if he got on the phone.
 
But I get a text or two from him every day.
 
Robert is in the hospital.
 
But he’s fading fast.
 
They’re making arrangements for him to be
taken home on Monday.

Which means they’re
preparing for him to die.
 
So he can pass away at home, surrounded by
his family.

Drake or Kaylee call me
occasionally.
 
I ask how everyone is
doing.
 
It’s not good.
 
No one is handling this well.
 
It’s all so sudden.
 
No one was prepared for it.
 
And Kale?
 
They say he won’t leave Robert’s side.
 
He’s not eating much of anything.
 
Won’t hardly
talk.
 
He’s not doing well.

Those five days kill me.
 
None of this music industry stuff
matters.
 
It’s all crap and it has
nothing to do with the real world and those you love.
 
I need to be there with him.

Finally.

Finally, Tuesday morning, a private jet
flies me to Seattle.
 
Tony drives me to
Kale’s hometown, Woodinville.
 
We pull up
to the curb.
 
And then I just sit there.

There’s Sage’s BMW outside.
 
Drake and Kaylee’s SUV.
 
The garage is open and inside is a dated
minivan.
 
And just behind it is Kale’s
Range Rover.

I pull out my phone and text
Kaylee.
 
Are you sure it’s okay that I come?
 
I know I’m not part of the family.
 
I don’t want to impose.
 

Kale
needs you,
Kaylee texts me back a few seconds later.
 
And
just
cause
you’re not blood or married doesn’t mean
that you aren’t family.

I take a deep breath, letting it out
slow and hard.

“He needs someone he loves right now,”
Tony says from behind the wheel.
 
“That’s
you, Whitney.”

Emotion pricks at the back of my
eyes.
 
I give a little nod as they
well.
 
“Yeah,” I whisper.

So, I open the door.
 
I walk up the sidewalk.
 
I knock on the door.
 
And I wait.

It’s Sage who opens the door.
 
I’ve never seen her looking so un-put
together.
 
Her hair is in a crazy mess on
top of her head.
 
She wears loose black
silk pants and a
flowy
white shirt that looks like
she’s been wearing for a few days.
 
No
more make up remains on her face, and her eyes are swollen and red.

“Hey,” she says and surprises me by
enveloping me in a hug.
 
“Thank you for
coming.”

“Of course,” I say as my eyes well
again.
 
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t come
sooner.”

“You’re here now, and that’s what
matters,” Sage says and her voice breaks just a bit.
 
“Come on in.
 
Everyone is here.”

Sage lets me go and steps aside so I can
walk in.

I’ve never been in the McCain home
before.
 
As I look around, see the
pictures on the walls, see height measurements in the doorway to the kitchen,
see the worn-out carpet and the sagging couch, I can imagine all the happy
memories that must have taken place within these walls.

But right now, everything is drowning in
sadness.

Julian stands in the living room, his
hands in his pockets.
 

“Hey,” he
says,
crossing over to pull me into a hug.
 
“Glad you could make it.”

With every hug, with every member of
this amazing family that I’m reunited with, my eyes grow more and more red.

I can’t even say anything, there’s too
much emotion in my throat.
 
I just nod
and try to offer him a tiny smile.

I see Lake through the kitchen off to
the side in the dining area.
 
I walk in
and see Riley with her forehead on the table, her arms crossed over her head
like a crown.

“Hi,” I finally manage.
 
What do you say in this situation?
 

“Thanks for coming,” Lake says without
getting up.
 
He has a hand on Riley’s
back and rubs it gentle and slow.
 
“We’ve
been hoping you’d get here in time.”

“I’m really sorry it took me so long,” I
say, awkwardly standing in the doorway.
 
“How are you feeling, Riley?”
 
It’s a dumb question, but, it’s something.

She just sniffs and shakes her head
without lifting it.

“The morning sickness has been really
bad lately,” Lake offers instead.
 
“Plus
all the emotion of what’s been going on.
 
It’s been a rough week.”

“I’m sure.”

And then someone else is hugging
me.
 
I turn around to find Kaylee.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she says,
looking up at me with red eyes.
 
“Thank
you so much for coming.”

I hug her back, not saying much.
 
Drake follows next and hugs the both of us,
kissing my temple like I’m his little sister, even though I’m an inch taller
than him.

“You should go see Kale,” Drake says as
his eyes well.
 
But he’s trying really
hard to hold it all in.
 
“It would do him
some good to see you.”

“Okay,” I say as one tear leaks out onto
my cheek.
 
I brush it away as we all let
go of each other.

I’m not familiar with this house, but I
can follow the wake of grief toward the back of the house.
 
To the master bedroom.
 
Where I find Robert, sleeping on the bed,
hooked up to all kinds of medical devices.
 
Where there’s Robin, sleeping in a chair in the corner, her head slumped
over onto her shoulder.
 
She looks like
she’s aged fifteen years since I last saw her.

And there I find Kale.
 
He sits in a chair next to Robert.
 
He holds his father’s hand in his, rubbing a
thumb back and forth over his wrinkled skin.

I watch them for a moment, standing here
silently.
 
They look so much alike.
 
With those lips and those
deep eyes.
 
The
strong jawline.
 
Father and youngest son.

It’s enough to break my heart.

I cross to Kale’s side and crouch next
to him.

His eyes slowly shift over to me.
 
He blinks once.
 

And then his composure is lost.

“Whitney,” he breathes as his face
crumples, his eyes well, and the sobs come.
 
He lets go of his dad’s hand and falls into my arms.
 
He
sobs,
big breathy
pulls for air.
 
“My
dad.
 
He’s not allowed to
die.
 
He’s supposed to be the strong one
who always has the answers to everything.
 
He’s not supposed to die.”

“I know,” I say, running a hand through
Kale’s hair.
 
“It’s not fair.
 
It’ll never be fair.”

And I hold Kale as he breaks all over
again.

About three and a half years ago, Robert
McCain went in for a checkup.
 
Once men
get to a certain age, they start checking for certain things.
 
And things were found.
 
Six non-cancerous polyps were removed.
 
They knew to watch things closely.
 
So he was checked every year.
 
And there was nothing.
 
Until this last checkup.

According to Robin, Robert hadn’t been
feeling well since before Lake and Riley’s wedding.
 
But he never said a word.
 
He thought he could wait until his
appointment.
 
But by then, it was too
late.
 
The cancer had been growing for
months, and it spread everywhere.

Life slips away so fast.
 

Even a grown man is allowed to cry
himself to sleep when his father is dying.

Kale and I go to his room, and we don’t
say anything and I just let him hold me so hard I know I’ll be bruised all
over.
 
But it doesn’t matter.
 
Cause
he needs me
and I can help hold his pain if that’s what he needs.

Eventually somewhere around two in the
afternoon, he falls asleep.
 
And I just
lie there with him, until Sage opens the door and waves me out into the
hall.
 
If she was a mess before, it’s
nothing compared to what she is right now.

“Dad’s awake,” she says as she hugs
herself tight.
 
“He’s been having
everyone come in.
 
He’s been saying
goodbye to everyone.
 
I think he knows it’s
going to be tonight.
 
But,” she sniffs
hard.
 
She pulls a tissue from her pocket
and wipes at her nose.
 
“But he’s asking
to talk to you.”

I want to say
me?
 
What could he have to
say to me?
 
I’m not family, and he barely
knows me.
 
But I don’t.
 
Because that’s not okay.
 
And I’m honored that he has
anything
to say to me.
 
“Okay.”

She follows me down the hall to the
bedroom.
 
And she surprises me once again
when she pulls me into a hug.
 
She offers
a small smile when she lets go, and I walk into the bedroom and close the door.

“Hey there, little star,” Robert says
with a weak smile.
 
“Why don’t you have a
seat right here?”
 
He pats the bed next
to him.

“Okay,” I say quietly.
 
My heart is racing.
 
What am I going to say?
 
What will he say?

“You don’t have to look so scared,” he
chuckles.
 
“I promise I’m not going to
bite you.
 
I may have had plenty of bark
out on the football field, but I’m really a bit of a pushover.”

I laugh quietly with him.
 
“Sorry.
 
I just…”

“Just thought you’d have a more casual
go of eventually getting to know Kale’s father,” he fills in when I don’t know
how to.

“Something
like
that,” I say as there’s that bite, once again, at the back of my eyes.

“Your life has been going by at an accelerated
rate lately,” he says with a bit of a wheeze.
 
“Why should this part be any different?”

“Because it’s not fair,” I say with a
shake of my head.
 
“Not to your family.”

“Life isn’t meant to be fair,” he
says.
 
“It is meant to be lived to the
fullest, and I’ve done just that.”