She leaned forward a little. “Better keep your voice down when you say stuff like that. Lynching isn’t too far in Thunder Canyon’s past, you know.”
His head tilted and she sucked in her breath, painfully aware of how close they sat. Fortunately, the waitress returned with her water, and Faith sat back, wrapping her unsteady hand around the glass as they gave their orders and the waitress headed off once more. “So, is the championship on Friday?”
He shook his head. “We’ll have next week off. Game’s the following week. Superstition or something, but nobody wanted to schedule a game on Friday the thirteenth.”
She’d forgotten all about the date. She was due to have lunch on Valentine’s Day with a bunch of girlfriends. “I imagine you must have played basketball yourself?”
He nodded, and looked up when Mayor Brookhurst stopped by, clapping him on the back for the great game. He stood and shook the man’s hand. “Tell that to the team.” Cam easily deflected the mayor’s praise. “They’re the ones who worked their tails off for it.”
The mayor smiled broadly, obviously feeling expansive. “Don’t be modest now, Coach. Considering what you’ve accomplished with a bunch of teenagers, imagine what we could do if you were on the town council.”
Cameron’s smile stayed put, but Faith could tell it was forced. She’d seen for herself that Cam didn’t always agree with mayoral opinions. “I’m considering it,” he admitted, without giving away much.
The mayor nodded, satisfied enough, and moved along, evidently happy to keep greeting the elated crowd as if he were personally responsible for the night’s outcome.
Erik was wriggling in his seat, his soda already gone.
Faith laughed a little, watching him. “You’re like a Mexican jumping bean over there, Mister Erik. I think I may need to start calling you Juan or something.”
“I never had Mexican jumping beans. But Susie in school did. But she got ’em taken away ’cause the teacher said she was playing with ’em during class. They’re so-o-o cool. Dad, have we ever been to Mexico?”
Cameron shook his head as he sat down again. He handed Erik a handful of coins. “Here. Go play a video game.”
“Aw-w-wright.” Erik scooped up the coins and dashed off to the arcade area behind their table.
Cameron’s gaze followed after his son, then he looked back at Faith. “Be nice to bottle some of that energy. I could use it to perk up my sixth-hour class every day.” He nudged the basket of fries toward her. “Have some.”
Her mouth was pretty much watering and it was easier to blame it on the cheese fries than anything else, so she took advantage of the offer.
“What were you like in school?”
Faith shrugged, and wiped her fingers on her napkin. “Anxious to graduate,” she supplied wryly.
His lips tilted and the crease in his cheek deepened.
She took a quick drink of water. Set down the glass, only to rotate it between her thumb and forefinger. “I couldn’t wait to leave Thunder Canyon, actually. I didn’t really think anybody could have any sort of real life here.”
His gaze centered on the fries, hiding his expression. “You were young, and the town is pretty small. What’d you do?”
“I went off to New Mexico for college. Met someone. Graduated. Got married. Got divorced.” She shrugged. “Nothing particularly interesting.” Just life-altering, the voice inside her head whispered.
He was silent for a moment and she looked up from her water glass to find his gaze on her. “What about you?” she asked somewhat desperately. “What brought you to Thunder Canyon? I think I heard that you were from Colorado, right?”
“Denver. My wife drove through here once and fell in love with the place.”
She bent her elbow on the table, and propped her chin on her hand. Jess had never done anything simply because she’d loved it. “And you moved here because of that?” How much he must have loved his wife.
“She’d just had Erik. She wanted to raise him here, rather than in the city.”
“I guess I’ve never thought of Denver as being all that major of a city.”
His lips twitched. “Better not let any of the Denver power brokers hear you say that.”
She lifted her glass, amused. “I think I might be safe all the way over here in Thunder Canyon. Are you really going to run for town council? You’re always at the meetings.”
“So are you.”
“Ah, but I’m a county employee who has to report back to her team anything that might affect our ability to scrounge space from the town services. Only reason we can afford to have the team spread out the way we are is through cooperation with the local agencies that share their resources—and office space—with us. Every time the budget gets looked at, we sweat it.”
“The council supports your presence, though.”
She nodded. “True. Some members of the police department aren’t so enamored of my presence, but it usually works out in the end.”
“Well.” His hand closed over hers, and her heart simply stopped for a moment. “I, for one, am damn glad you were here.” His thumb brushed over the back of her hand and the chaos surrounding them seemed to fade away.
Then he let go of her, reaching for the cheese fries again, and the chaos returned, loud and rambunctious as ever.
Faith dropped her hands to her lap, rubbing one hand over the tingling in the other. A happy father stopped by to pound Cameron on the back, then Erik dashed over, and a slightly shorter boy followed hard in his wake.
“Hey, Dad. Can I spend the night at Josh’s? His mom’s over there. She said I could.”
Cameron shook his head without even seeming to think about the matter. “Tell Mrs. Lampson thanks, but no.”
Faith felt the disappointment sweeping through Erik even before his shoulders sank. “Come on, Dad.”
Cameron merely lifted an eyebrow, and Erik’s pleading stopped before it had barely begun. “Have you spent all of your change?”
“No, sir.”
“Better do it now before the food gets served, then.”
Erik nodded. He turned and shuffled off with Josh at his side.
Cameron didn’t look at her, but pulled another few fries free of the web of cheese.
“Excuse me.” Faith stood and dropped her napkin on her seat. “I’ll be right back.”
She felt Cameron’s gaze on her spine as she went after Erik. He was feeding coins into a video game, his expression sulky, when she crouched down beside him. “I have some free time tomorrow,” she told him. “Around ten. I could come by and we can check out that toboggan of yours. What do you say, Juan?”
His eyes, so similar to his father’s, brightened. “Honest?”
She stuck out her hand. “Honest.”
He slapped his palm against hers. The game beside them chirped and gurgled. And Faith resumed her seat at the table with Cameron.
“What was that about?”
“I told Erik I’d come tobogganing with him tomorrow.” She eyed him. “Unless that’s something you’re going to say no to as well?”
He sat back in his seat. “You think I should’ve let him spend the night at the Lampsons’.”
“Would it have been so terrible?”
“Maria Lampson works a swing shift every night at a convenience store. She leaves Josh home alone with his twelve-year-old sister from midnight to 8:00 a.m. So, no, I’m not going to feel badly for disappointing Erik.”
“I didn’t realize.”
“Now you do.”
They sat there, eyeing each other.
Then the waitress, Juliet, appeared with a laden tray and began unloading their dinner.
Erik darted back to the table, and slid onto his seat, nearly diving headfirst into his hamburger. “Faith’s gonna come tobogganing with me,” he announced. A drop of ketchup dripped onto his chin.
Cam watched Faith lean over and hand Erik’s napkin to him. His son took it and wiped his face without breaking stride
for a second, and without adding his usual complaints whenever Cam told him to use his napkin.
“We could use the hill behind our house, right, Dad? It’s big enough.”
The hill was steep as hell. And he really didn’t want his son going near it. But Faith’s gaze was fixed on his face as if waiting for him to deny Erik another pleasure, and he choked down the misgivings. “It’s big enough,” he finally said.
Faith’s long, soft lashes swept down and her lips looked ready to soften into a smile.
He’d spent more than enough time being preoccupied over Faith Taylor’s lips.
It wasn’t as if he was going to do something about his curiosity over whether they were as supple as they looked.
He made himself look away, only to realize the troublesome threesome were bearing down on him, intent glinting in their overly made-up eyes. Tiffany Scherer, Amber Wells and Krista Decker. Pretty girls with too much time on their hands.
He stifled an oath.
Faith leaned a little closer. “What’s wrong?”
He grabbed her hand and hauled her out of her chair. “Dance with me.”
“What?” Her napkin slid to the hardwood floor.
He knew Erik was staring at them, goggle-eyed. “Dance with me,” he repeated, and nearly lifted her off her feet to get her onto the dance floor that was only sparsely occupied. He swung her into his arms, glancing over her head.
The teenaged girls had halted their progress, expressions of surprise etched in triplicate across their faces.
“God help their fathers,” he muttered.
Faith was staring at him as if he’d lost his mind. And maybe he had lost it. Because he could feel every inch of her lithe body—clad in a bronze turtleneck that made her hair look more golden than ever and narrow brown jeans that made her legs look longer than ever—against his body. “Whose fathers?”
He shuffled, turning her so she could see the girls. “Their fathers. You know what it’s like to be chased by three seventeen-year-old girls? It’s a bloody nightmare.”
A soft laugh erupted from her and he felt the ripple of it through his chest. “They have a crush on you, I take it.”
He could feel his neck heating. “I don’t know. Just every time I turn around, there they are. It’s becoming…a problem.”
“Because you like them?”
He glared at her. “Give me a break. They’re children.”
She shifted against him, her hand slipping up over his shoulder. Their legs brushed against each other as they slowly moved over the postage stamp of a dance area. “Poor guy.”
“You wouldn’t find it so amusing if it were you. They’ve been bringing me cranberry muffins every school day lately. I don’t even like cranberries.”
She considered that. “Romantic gestures. Well, I suppose if it were me, I probably wouldn’t find it funny, either. But since I’ve never had young men falling over themselves for me—or grown men, for that matter—I can’t be entirely certain.”
That seemed inconceivable to Cam. He was vaguely aware of the girls turning on their collective heels. “At least they’re not in any of my classes this semester. I don’t know how to discourage them anymore than I already have.”
“Get a girlfriend,” she said smoothly.
“I’m—” he broke off. Married, he’d almost said.
Only he wasn’t married. He was alone.
And he had a beautiful woman who was very much alive in his arms, her body warming his.
“You’re what?”
“Hungry,” he said abruptly. “And our food’s getting cold.” He stopped doing the shuffle-disguised-as-a-dance, and nudged her back toward the table.
He’d accomplished one thing at least—diverting the trio of girls, even if it was momentary.
Too bad he’d also accomplished something else.
Awakening a hunger of another sort that, up until now, he’d managed to keep under control.
He sat down in the seat, dropping the napkin over his jeans that had gone painfully tight.
“I never seen you dance before, Dad.”
“Finish your hamburger, Erik.”
“But—”
“Then you can order dessert.”
Erik nearly shoved the rest of the hamburger into his mouth, his eyes gleaming at the prospect.
Cam, however, couldn’t look at Faith without wishing he were feasting on her.
As soon as she’d picked up her fork, though, she jumped a little. “My pager,” she said, and pulled it off her belt, peering at the display.
Erik craned around, trying to get a look. Faith flashed him the display, and cast Cameron a look that was too hard to read. “I’m sorry. I’m going to have to run.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just duty calling.” She rose and started pulling on her coat. He stood also, helping her despite the surprised look she gave him. She gestured at the table. “Sorry about the meal.”
If he hadn’t dragged her onto the dance floor, she’d have had a chance to eat more of the mammoth salad she’d ordered than just a few bites. “We could get it packed for you to take.”
“I won’t have a chance to get to it,” she murmured. “But thanks. I’m…sorry about this.”
So was he, he thought, watching her walk out of The Hitching Post.
More sorry than he had any right to be.
Chapter Seven
Faith sat in her car, looking up at Cameron and Erik’s home. There were only two other homes on the hillside, set well apart from each other. And it reminded her all over again that Cameron hadn’t always been a high school coach and math teacher. He’d had an entirely different career before he’d come to Thunder Canyon. One that, judging by the spacious size and rugged beauty of the house, must have paid pretty darn well.
She had a fleeting urge to put the car in gear and turn around and run. But Erik had already thrown open the wide front door and was racing pell-mell down the shoveled walkway toward her, the toboggan clutched under his arm. He ran all the way to the street and looked fit to vibrate out of his skin as he waited for her to join him on the sidewalk.
“Hello,” she greeted. “What’s your name again?”
Erik’s dimples flashed. “Juan.”
She nodded. “Right. I remember. And that thing?” She tapped the end of the rolled sled. “That’s a mechanical bull, isn’t it?”
“A real one,” Erik corrected.
“Erik.” Cameron stood on the front porch. “Invite Ms. Taylor in.”
Faith’s stomach jittered. Nerves soothed by Erik came back in full force with the presence of his father. “That’s okay,” she raised her voice so he could hear. “The hill behind your house should be perfect for this puppy.” He could hover as close as he needed.
“Master Juan?” She looked at Erik as she pulled her gloves out of her coat pocket, and snugged her scarf tighter around her neck. “Think you’d better put some boots on those feet of yours.”
He looked down. Giggled. Flew back up the walk in his stockinged feet, darting past his dad into the house.
Faith retrieved Cam’s coat from her car and slowly followed, since Cameron was still standing there. She took her time pulling on her gloves. Maybe if she didn’t look at him, she wouldn’t spend another night plagued with dreams about him.
Right.
“Nice place you have,” she commented, stopping near the base of the five stone steps leading up to a front door that could have accommodated her car it was so wide. She tossed the coat to him.
“It’s a roof.” He neatly caught the garment.
She wriggled her toes inside her boots. From inside the house, she heard Erik’s yell, asking where his snow boots were.
Cameron’s gaze met hers and his lips tilted. “Better come inside,” he suggested dryly. “Based on previous experience, this may take a while. He was supposed to have gathered up his stuff before you got here.”
He stepped back, waiting.
It was just a house, she told herself. And he was just a tall man in blue jeans and a thick wheat-colored sweater.
Didn’t make going up the steps and walking past him any less disturbing, though.
And he smelled good. Again.
She swallowed and focused somewhat desperately on the house. From the foyer was a wide-open view of the land behind the house, courtesy of the plate glass windows that seemed to take the place of walls. Her feet rooted into place at the magnificence of it. “A little more than a roof.”
His hand lightly touched the small of her back and she nearly jumped forward a foot. “It’s the view that sold us on the house.”
Now, her spine was tingling. “I’ll bet.”
“Da-ad!”
He let out a breath. “Excuse me.” He dumped the coat on the already-laden coatrack near the door.
She nodded and he disappeared down a hall. She could hear the low tone of his voice as he directed Erik’s search. She could have stood there looking out those windows for hours. The snowy hillside looked pristine, the white powder glittering like jewels beneath the clear, afternoon sun.
Beyond the foyer and the soaring great room furnished with oversize, rustic pine, the floor plan split, going down a half-dozen steps to the kitchen with a built-in breakfast nook, and a less formal family room. Looked like Cam used it more for an office though, judging by the textbooks and papers strewn across a desk that floated in the middle of the room, facing out the windows.
She wondered how he accomplished any work. If she had a view like his, she’d have to face away from it, because there was no way she could have concentrated.
Erik and Cam were still searching, evidently, and she passed the desk, hoping her intense interest was masked by casual glances. There were a few framed photos of Erik sitting on a bookshelf. And no photos of his mother as far as she could tell.
Her curiosity over the woman who still held Cameron’s heart would have to go unquenched.
“Okay. He’s ready.” Cameron stepped into view, closely followed by Erik. The boy ran across the room and shoved at one of the windows. It slid silently aside, then started to close as soon as Erik reached the covered deck right outside. Cam stopped it from closing altogether, though, holding it open with the palm of his hand.
All He Ever Wanted Page 9
