Page 30 of Unraveling Fate

Canon Richards, candidate for State Senate, poses with supporters and girlfriend, Cadenza Cavalieri.

“What?!” Cadenza stormed down the stairs, through the garage, pausing only a heartbeat when she saw the Ferrari was gone—when did Taran come for it? She hadn’t heard the engine fire up—and down the hill to the cottage.

“Canon!” She banged on the door. “Canon, you need to fix this!”

Frame drums danced up her arms.

“Hello.” Taran answered the door, golden and relaxed. The drums deepened, wrapping around her stomach.

“You—” Cadenza lowered her hand. “What are you doing here?”

He spread his hands in mock apology. “I’m afraid I live here.”

“Yeah, no, I know.” She threw a look up the hill to the Ferrari-less garage. Taran’s rhythm picked up weight, waves washing in and out.Porca miseria, why is this man so disorienting?“I just thought you’d be?—”

“Cadenza.” Canon came to the door behind Taran. “Come in. What’s up?”

Her head flipped between Taran and the garage one more time. “Where’s the Ferrari?”

A smile quirked up the side of Taran’s mouth. “You mean ‘your car’?”

She flushed. Parts of last night were fuzzy, but she did remember calling the Ferrari hers.

“How’s your head?” Taran brushed her eyebrow with his thumb. The waves solidified, rumbling like thunder in her chest. “The lump’s still there I see,” he said. “Have you been icing it?”

Canon peered closer. “What happened to your head?”

She answered Taran first. “I haven’t had time to ice it since this morning; I just barely got home.” Now that he brought it up, she could feel a headache starting behind her left eye. “And,” she said to Canon, “some asshat ran me off the road last night.”

His eyes narrowed. “Did you get a license number? Who was it?”

Cadenza huffed. This wasn’t why she was at the cottage.

“No, we didn’t get a license,” Taran said. “And whoever it was had the balls to just drive off.” He dangled two curved fingers like Cadenza the night before and winked. She hid a laugh behind her hand. “Definitely one of those compensation trucks, eh, Canon?” He clapped Canon on the shoulder, pushing him a step back inside the house.

“Wedidn’t get a license?” Canon lifted an eyebrow and shoved forward again, clearing the threshold this time to stand next to Cadenza.

“Taran found me just after the accident and helped me get home,” Cadenza said.

Canon leveled a flat stare at Taran. “Thank you then, for helping her.”

Taran crossed his arms over his chest. “It was my pleasure.”

Cadenza watched their posturing, eyes narrowed.

“I’m sorry I was still at the rally. I wish you’d called me.” Canon laid a hand on her arm, possessive, like someone who didn’t have to wonder whether or not he could. Like a boyfriend.

She shook off his hand and waved the newspaper in his face. “Canon, have you read this?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Vasilios and I are pleased. The front page is great coverage.”

“Great coverage?” She made a fist to keep from slapping him. “But the caption. Canon, I’m not your girlfriend.” She toggled a finger between them. “We’re not dating, remember?”

“Oh, you’renotdating?” Taran lifted his brows in exaggerated surprise. “Imagine that, Canon, the newspaper getting it wrong. I’m sure you’ll call them right away and clear it up, isn’t that right?”

Blood rushed to Canon’s cheeks, and his jaw tightened. “I never told them we were, but of course I’ll get it straightened out.”

Some of Cadenza’s ire faded. She could deal with a misunderstanding. Although if Canon hadn’t told the reporter she was his girlfriend, who had?