He stepped up to the counter, his eyes immediately landing on the backside of the barista. Cami must’ve hired someone new, because he would surely have remembered an ass like that squeezed into a pair of light-colored jeans and making those seams work overtime.
Copper red hair sat just above her shoulders, and she pushed up on tip-toe to reach something on a high shelf. She was tall, but at six-foot-three, he still had several inches on her. Even though he was raised a gentleman, his eyes lingered on the curve of her backside.
Her leg turned inward, and she spun toward him. His eyes snapped to attention, anticipating the face that would be attached to such a gorgeous figure.
“How can I… Oh it’s you. Hey.”
Enzo’s eyes widened as his brain tried to match the voice with the face. “Cami?” he asked in shocked disbelief as he finally recognized the brown of her eyes.
Cami’s eyebrows cinched at the middle before arching up in curiosity. “The one and only.”
“What the hell did you do to your hair?” The last time he saw her she was blonde. A very familiar blonde he’d swore to himself he’d never look at in that way again. It was impossible to deny her beauty, her infectious personality, and the unwavering ability to bring sunshine into any room she was in.
But she was Cami Martin for crying out loud, his baby sister’s best friend and someone he watched grow from a bouncy little child to a smart business-oriented woman who kept bras in her trunk. Red lace bras…
He shook the image of lingerie from his mind and focused on her face.
She tilted her head and flipped the bottom of her hair. “I dyed it,” she said with a sing-song voice.
“Why the hell would you do that?”
She gave him a double take like he’d fallen off his rocker and into an alternate dimension. It was the only reasonable explanation to how only a few seconds ago he let the wall down he’d put up years ago and was seriously drooling over Cami’s ass like some food-deprived beast.
“Because I wanted to. People say blondes have more fun, but I think redheads do, and I wanted a change, not that I need to explain any of this to you.”
Of course she didn’t, but when a person decides to completely alter their appearance, shouldn’t they send out a memo or something so other people could prepare? If he’d known she was drastically changing her hair color, he would’ve known it was her reaching for the shelf, her back turned to him, and he never would have let his eyes travel as far south as they did.
It wasn’t the only time he’d checked her out, but he’d been resisting his attraction to her for so long, he’d become a pro at it. Now the curtain had dropped and he couldn’t stop thinking about her body, the way her eyebrows pinched together as she stared at him with annoyance. How her lips pressed into a thin perturbed line like she was trying to bite back another snarky comment.
The first time he had noticed her as someone other than his baby sister’s best friend was when she was nineteen, a woman trying to find her place in the world, who would come to the restaurant, order an iced tea and talk to him about her career path and life in general. He’d warned himself away from her then. She was still young, had a lot living to do to discover herself and what it was she wanted out of life. He would have just been a distraction, if she would have even given him a chance.
The next time was when she was twenty-two, and she had finally decided what she wanted to do with her life. Out of all the people she could have spoken to, she came to him for his advice. Watching the passion bloom inside her as she anticipated starting her own business and becoming a fixture in the town that she loved, showed him a new side to her. A side that was as intriguing as it was endearing.
Now she looked at him with those curious brown eyes and he mentally knocked himself good and took a calming breath, clearing any remaining visuals of her ass in those jeans.
“Now that we’ve established you hate my hair,” she said.
“I never said that. It was just unexpected. I’m sorry. It looks…nice.”
“Nice? Wow, you really know how to flatter a girl.”
Nice was a good compliment. What else was he supposed to say? The truth? That her hair made her unrecognizable, and he’d let the carefully constructed wall he’d put up between them drop. How now that the wall had fallen, he was reeling to try and build it back up again.
But why? She was no longer a young woman trying to find her place in the world. She was settled into her life now, the girl who once loved to party had replaced late nights with early morning shifts and beer bongs with coffee beans. He no longer had to look at her as his baby sister’s best friend and he hadn’t in quite some time now.
She was just Cami, overly ambitious, know it all, smartass, beautiful Cami, and he no longer wanted to force himself to ignore the light she sparked inside him whenever she was in his presence.
“You okay? You’re acting weird,” Cami said.
He cleared his throat and ran a hand over his face, in an attempt to act normal and not like he just came to a realization that could possibly change their dynamic forever. “Sorry, didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Then you’re in the right place, my friend.”
The word friend had never bothered him before, but now it stabbed at his heart and twisted.
“What can I get you? Your usual, or are you going to step outside of your comfort zone?” she asked.
For as long as Cami had been in business, she’d been trying to get him to try something new, but he knew what he liked; to him there was no point.
“My usual is fine.”
“Of course. God forbid Enzo Moretti tries anything new.” She grabbed a cup and spun to the house coffee pot. He purposely forced his eyes on the chalkboard above with the list of all the specialty concoctions to keep himself from gawking at her ass. “You know what your problem is?” she asked.
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but he let it fall when Cami turned back to him.
“You don’t like change.”
“That’s not true. Ella is currently redoing my entire place.” His sister was getting her interior decorating business off the ground, and he’d volunteered his house for her to redo so she could have a few new pages added to her portfolio. Something he’d been trying not to regret.
“And you’re being a pain in the ass about the whole thing.”
Maybe he wasn’t a fan of all the changes Ella was making, and he gave his sister a hard time pretty much every step of the way, but he was the one who had to live there. Besides, what was so wrong with liking things a certain way? There was structure in the familiar which helped prevent chaos.
Enzo didn’t like chaos because he couldn’t control it. Anything he couldn’t control made his throat constrict.
“I’m helping her.”
Cami practically snorted. “And how is you being a royal pain in the butt helping her?”
“Not all her clients are going to be easy to work with, so I’m giving her a tiny dose of that.”
“If that’s what helps you sleep at night.” She handed him his coffee, and he took it, his finger brushing hers and sending an unexpected shock through his system. His gaze fixed on hers and something passed between them, something he couldn’t quite pinpoint, but it went beyond their normal banter and friendly conversation.
“Good morning!” Martha, a local store owner and family friend, floated into the Local Bean, her green shirt billowing behind her and her bracelets clacking together as she waved.
Enzo tore his eyes from Cami’s and turned a smile on Martha. “Good morning,” he said.
Martha’s eyebrows furrowed. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked. “I can come back.” Martha turned to the door.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cami said, and Martha headed for the counter. “I was just telling Enzo how he’s a pain in the ass, and I wouldn’t be surprised if his sister tossed him out to sea for the lobsters to eat.”
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“If Ella’s that stressed, tell her to stop by my store and I’ll give her some lavender. It’ll calm her.”
Enzo stifled a laugh. If anyone needed lavender it was him. Heck, he needed a bathtub full of the stuff. Though, he doubted even that much would be enough to chill him out. Between the restaurant and his grandfather’s inability to see he was getting too old to do certain things, his sister ripping his place apart, and his baby brother’s unhealthy obsession with his art work, he was shouldering his fair share of stress. Add in his rediscovered feelings for Cami, he definitely was teetering on the edge.
He was almost tempted to ask Martha for some, but Cami would never let him live that down, so he didn’t say anything.
He pulled out his wallet, and Cami waved her hands. “Oh no. I told you this one is on the house.”
He knew what she had said, but he wasn’t actually going to take her up on it. He could afford to pay for a cup of coffee and didn’t need to be compensated for helping her out. He was happy to do it. “Have you gotten the tire fixed yet?” he asked.
“Not yet.”
Cami was on top of so many things, always on the go when she wasn’t behind the counter at the coffee shop, so he couldn’t understand what was taking her so long to get her damn tire fixed.
“You can’t ride on a donut for too long. Seventy miles max.” After that she would be causing unnecessary wear and tear on her car, not to mention the dangers she subjected herself to due to the small size and insignificant tread. It was a safety hazard.
“Good thing I only live two miles away then, huh?” She grabbed a cup and looked around him to Martha. “Your usual?”
“Yes, please,” Martha said as she picked up a ceramic mug Cami had lined up on a wall for sale.
“Why don’t you give Martha a hard time about her order?”
Cami met his eyes, amusement shining bright. “I like her,” she joked. “Not to mention, she tried almost everything on my menu before settling on a usual, unlike someone else I know.”
“Whatever,” he said. “About the tire. I can call my guy and get you an appointment. He’ll have you in and out in no time.”
“I appreciate it, but I don’t need you to call your guy. I’ll take care of it.”
Her independence was something he admired, but it also worried him too. Sometimes he felt she took on too much and worked too damn hard, but he wasn’t one to talk. “Don’t forget.”
“Okay, old man. I won’t.”
He really hated that stupid nickname, even more so when she added ‘buzzkill’ to it. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? It fits you perfectly.”
“Funny.”
“I know I’m hilarious. You can catch my act most days between five a.m. and six p.m.”
Enzo shook his head and turned away from her so she wouldn’t see his amusement. He focused his attention on Martha. “As always, it’s been a pleasure, Martha.” His eyes met Cami’s, and she planted her hands on the countertop, the V-neck of her shirt dipping too low and revealing pert breasts. He snapped his gaze away from the forbidden dip and back on her face. “Cami.”
“What? I don’t give you pleasure.” He knew her words weren’t meant to be sexual, but between the tight set of her ass and the round curve of her breasts, he couldn’t stop the visions from popping into his mind at rapid succession. He tried—without success—to ignore them and forced a smile.
“More like a headache.” He took his coffee and left before he completely lost his mind.
Cami was no longer the annoying girl of seven who talked too much, the twelve-year-old with braces or a teenager who dated all the wrong guys. She still dated all the wrong guys, but that wasn’t the point.
The point was Cami was more than his baby sister’s best friend and she had been for a long time now, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
The farther he got away from the coffee shop, the stronger the desire to shove her from his mind and reconstruct the wall that she had inadvertently tore down, became.
But for the first time, he fought that urge and let Cami Martin consume his mind.
Chapter 3
Enzo couldn’t wait to hop in the shower and wash the day off of him. It was a hot and sticky August day and even though the restaurant had air conditioning for the days when the ocean breeze wasn’t enough, it didn’t help much today when he was in the kitchen helping get out orders. He was ready to forgo washing his clothes and just toss them in the trash.
He dropped his keys on the table and reached for the hem of his shirt.
“You’re home!” Ella popped out of the kitchen, a too-big smile on her face, and her long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail.
He released his shirt, letting it stay in place. How did he not see her bike outside? “Why are you here?” he asked, ignoring how ungrateful he sounded. He was tired. All he wanted was a shower then to finish reading his book on the Battle of the Bulge.
“I found a new couch I think would work perfect in the living room, but it’s going to clash with the paint we chose, so I brought some new color samples over. I thought we could look them over, and you can tell me which one you like best.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself he hired her. It didn’t matter that he did it out of the kindness of his heart; his baby sister needed to build her portfolio, and he wanted to see her succeed. She was hired to do a job, and that was exactly what she was doing. He just wished he didn’t have to be so involved. Though, the thought of giving her free reign to do as she pleased terrified the hell out of him. God only knew what she would turn his place into.
After long hours at the restaurant, his home was his personal haven. He could get away from the hustle and bustle of work, sit on his couch with a beer, listen to some music or watch a documentary, and he was happy. He wanted his home to reflect that, and if she painted his walls yellow, he would have a stroke. He could always tell her exactly what he wanted, but Ella didn’t always listen, and it was a chance he wasn’t willing to take.
“Do we have to do it right this second? I had a long day.”
“Was it busy at the restaurant?”
“Just a bit.”
“If you need me to come back to the restaurant, I can.”
Ella was his best waitress, having worked at the Shack since she was a teenager and helping out way before that. But it was time for her to live her dream, and she couldn’t do that while waiting tables.
He shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
“But it’s not fair that you’re working yourself into the ground.”
“Don’t worry about me.” Not that his words would make a difference. Ella worried about everyone. She was so much like their mother he wondered if she even realized the similarities.
“Cami told me you helped her with her tire.”
His entire body stiffened at hearing Cami’s name. Ever since he allowed himself to see her as the beautiful woman that she was, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. “It was nothing.”
“I do appreciate you helping her out.”
“Did you think I’d leave her stranded?” he asked.
“Of course not.”
“I wish I had,” he admitted and watched Ella’s eyes widen in shock.
“Enzo!” She swatted his chest. “Why would you say that?”
Because he couldn’t stop thinking about that red bra he’d found in her trunk, wondering how she’d look with the strips of lace covering her pert breasts. He let the image linger for a moment before shaking it away. “Because she’s a royal pain in the ass. Do you know she has never changed a tire in her entire life, and she tried to tell me how to jack a car up?”
“You say it like you’re surprised. That’s Cami. No one can do it better than her. It’s a control thing.”
“She needs to work on that.” As a kid she’d been bossy, acting as leader of the pack, but Ella and Krissy never seemed to mind. As Cami got older, the bossiness had proven u
seful in running a successful business, but it was also keeping her from letting people take on some of the responsibility that she shouldered.
“She’s tried. Krissy and I call her out on it. She doesn’t even realize she’s doing it half the time.” Ella held up the paint swatches. “So what color?”
He rolled his eyes. “When are you leaving for California again?”
Ella gave him a playful punch to the shoulder. “You know you’ll miss me.”
He tried not to think about it. She’d only be gone for a couple months before she’d be back. Living bicoastal was going to be an adjustment for Ella as well as the whole family. Other than when she went away to college, she’d always been close. But she went and fell in love with someone who called California home, and with his business there, it wasn’t exactly easy for him to pick up and leave.
“I will miss you, kid.”
“Remember that when I’m getting on your last nerve. I’m just giving you something to remember me by.” She flashed him an over the top, cheesy as hell smile.
He kept his gaze unaffected though he was laughing on the inside. “You’re going away for a few months. I don’t think that’s enough time to forget you. I have years and years of you being a pain in my ass in the rolodex in my head.” He tapped his head for emphasis.
“Memories are not the same,” she said and glanced up at him. Her eyes somber and lips downcast. “You know that.”
His heart weighed heavy. Unfortunately, he did. Their mom passed away when Ella was a kid and he barely an adult. Then their dad went to jail for drug charges and their grandmother passed away. They had many memories, but there were times Enzo would pay all the money in the world to go back, because nothing, not even a memory, could replace an actual hug from his mother or grandmother.
“They’re better than nothing.” He rested his arm on Ella’s shoulders and pulled her in for a side hug. She inhaled deeply and let it out before jumping out of his arms in a spin.
“Okay,” she said. “Paint colors.”
His Complete Polar Opposite Page 2
