Trusting Will (The Camerons of Tide's Way #3)

by Skye Taylor

  Another man with a scout in tow claimed Will’s attention, and he turned away before she could explain the apron. But really. She didn’t have to explain herself. To Will. Or any man. Right? Just because his proximity did strange things to her insides didn’t mean she had to justify anything. He was just a guy. A guy she was determined was never going to be more than a friend.

  An hour later, Sam shouted with triumph a second time. Once again his racer had beaten both opponents and would now race in the semifinals against his best friend Rick and one other boy. “I guess green is a lucky color after all,” Sam announced, holding his racer up for her inspection. “I’m going to call it Flash after my favorite superhero.”

  “Sounds like a perfect name,” Bree agreed, studying the racer more closely. Something looked different about it, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Not that she had inspected it all that closely the night Bob brought it over. At the time, she had been more concerned with Sam’s bad manners.

  “I gotta go find Rick.” Sam dashed off again, a whirlwind of energy and excitement.

  Bree turned and caught Will leaning against the wall watching her. Her heart jumped when their eyes met. Will pushed away from the wall and headed her way.

  She squared her shoulders and waited for Will to reach her. “Did you do something to that car?” she demanded as soon as he was close enough to hear without shouting her question over the hubbub.

  Will lifted his eyebrows and tried to look innocent.

  “You did, didn’t you?”

  “I might have,” he finally admitted.

  “Does Sam know?”

  Will shook his head slightly. “He was asleep.”

  “But nothing illegal, I hope?”

  Will’s eyes widened. He held two fingers up. “Scout’s honor.”

  Bree couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter that burst out of her.

  “I just didn’t want Sam to be disappointed. Not to badmouth Bob’s efforts, but the wheels would have fallen off before it got to the end of the track. All I did was install new axles and add a few pennies for weight. Nothing illegal, I assure you. I read the rules carefully.”

  “Thanks.” Bree put a hand on Will’s forearm. “His biggest problem at the time was that he didn’t get to help build it. Not that your tweaking it included him either, but I appreciate it. It’s sure made his day today.”

  “My pleasure,” Will drawled, placing his hand over hers.

  “Did I miss Sam’s race?” Bob Cahill appeared without warning.

  Bree yanked her hand back and turned to Bob. “He’s got one more race left. So far, he’s been winning.” She didn’t dare look at Will for fear that their collaboration would show in her expression.

  “Excellent.” Bob’s chest seemed to expand a little. He put his arm about her shoulders, but she shrugged him off.

  Since the night he’d accompanied her to the open house at Kett’s, she’d been avoiding him. On discovering that Sam would not be in the apartment when they returned, Bob had cranked up the pressure to be allowed to come in with her, but she’d stood firm in her denial. He’d been pretty transparent about the direction of his thoughts the whole evening, ogling her suggestively whenever he caught her eye, and he’d even come right out and told her how much her evening attire turned him on.

  In spite of knowing she did not want to make love with him, Bree hadn’t known how to get their relationship back onto friendship territory or end it all together. Letting him come up to her apartment would definitely have given him the wrong idea and led to a confrontation when she spurned his amorous advances. She should have let the showdown happen. Easy to see after the fact.

  “So?” Bob scowled. “What’s between you and the scouting guy?”

  “Nothing’s between me and Will.” Bree didn’t pretend not to know whom he was referring to.

  “You two looked pretty cozy just now when I got here.”

  “He—Sam just won his second heat. We were—we were just happy for Sam.”

  “And where is the triumphant Sam?” Bob scanned the room. “He seems to be elsewhere.”

  “He went to find his friend.” Please, God. Not now. Not here.

  Bob grabbed her elbow and steered her toward the exit. “We need to talk.”

  His fingers dug in painfully, but Bree didn’t want to make a scene, so she allowed him to guide her toward the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Will start toward them, but she shook her head slightly to warn him off. He stopped but continued to watch, concern etched on his face.

  Bob hit the release bar on the fellowship hall door and ushered Bree out onto the paved walkway.

  “Let go of me.”

  “Not until we have this out.” He continued to drag her around the corner and away from prying eyes.

  “What is this that we need to have out?”

  “Are we an item, or are you just a tease?”

  Bree finally refused to go another step. She pulled her elbow free and straightened her spine. “Neither.”

  Bob’s brows rose. He was breathing hard, and he looked angry. She’d never seen him angry before, and it scared her a little. Maybe she shouldn’t have warned Will off.

  “I don’t like sharing. I told you that before.”

  “We are not a couple, Bob. I’ve enjoyed your friendship, but we have never been a couple.”

  “Could have fooled me.” He snorted in derision. “I thought we were. I thought you were just being cautious after losing your husband, and I didn’t want to push. But maybe I should have. Now this scouting guy has shown up, and it seems like I missed my chance.”

  “His name is Will, but there’s nothing going on between us.”

  “That’s not how it looked to me.”

  “We’re just friends.”

  The tension left Bob’s shoulders, and regret replaced anger in his expression. “Maybe you’re fooling yourself, Bree, but you’re not fooling me. I’m sorry it had to end like this. I’d like to say it’s been nice, but that would be a lie. I was hoping for so much more.” He reached out and cupped her cheek in one hand. He kissed her on the forehead, then let his hand drop back to his side. “I wish you well with your—with Will.”

  Bob turned on his heel and strode down the walkway and around the corner.

  Bree slumped against the warm bricks, feeling like she’d just weathered a hurricane.

  There was nothing going on between her and Will. Nothing at all.

  If you didn’t count the way her pulse raced when he was nearby. Or if she ignored the breathless feeling in her chest when he touched her. Both were things she didn’t want to feel at all. No way was she putting her heart out there to be crushed again. Ever.

  Chapter 8

  “DON’T CRY.” ED brushed away her tears with his thumb. “I can’t bear it when you cry.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to go. I wish you weren’t always going away to war and putting your life on the line all the time.”

  “I’m a soldier, Bree. That’s what soldiers do.” He pulled her to him, pressing her face into the camouflage pattern of his utility uniform.

  “I wish you had an ordinary job. One that wasn’t likely to get you killed.”

  “I’m not going to get killed. I’ve come home every other time, haven’t I?”

  Bree lifted her head and squared her shoulders. “But one of these days you might not be so lucky, and where will that leave me?”

  “It’ll leave you knowing you were once well loved by the best man you ever knew.” Ed grinned. Then the smile left his face as quickly as it had come. “But if the worst should happen, know I’ll be watching over you, always. Just don’t mourn forever. Fall in love again. Make a new life for yourself. You’ve got too much love inside you to let it go to waste.”r />
  There was no stopping the tears this time. Ed took the possibility of his own death far too easily. It was never easy for her.

  “I gotta go.” Ed bent and kissed her cheeks, salty tears and all. Then he kissed his fingertips and pressed them to her lips. “I’ll be back before you know it.” He turned and strode down the jet way, his boots echoing with eerie finality in the air-conditioned tunnel. He turned once to wave. Then he was gone. She could barely see through her tears. They just kept coming and coming. Rivers of them. Her hankie was soaked and useless.

  Bree woke from the troubling dream. Her face wet. Her pillow soaked. The cool blue numbers on her alarm clock read 3:13 a.m.

  The echo of that last conversation with Ed haunted her. Don’t mourn forever. Fall in love again.

  She had stopped mourning Ed. Mostly. She’d dated Bob with the idea it might lead to more than friendship. But it hadn’t felt right. Would it ever feel right? With anyone? Would she ever be able to trust her heart to a man again?

  Will’s concerned blue eyes following her as Bob escorted her from the church hall appeared in her mind’s eye. Bob seemed to think Will might be that man. But she barely knew Will. And she was more than a little afraid of the way he made her feel when he was close. It would be so much easier and safer to keep him as a friend.

  She rolled onto her back, and stared up at the dark ceiling, then began cataloging what she did know about Will Cameron.

  He made her heart leap when their eyes met.

  When he stood too close, her breathing felt odd.

  Sam thought he was the best thing that had ever happened in his short life.

  Will had an identical twin brother and a nephew who was Sam’s best friend.

  The man drove a Jeep, and he was Sam’s den father.

  He lived upstairs with a fat orange cat named Bruce, and he knew how to bake really great scones. He could fix defective race cars, and according to Sam, leaky toilets. Considering what his younger brother did for a living, Will probably knew how to fix a lot of things.

  And he was very good with eight-year-old boys.

  But that was about the sum of it.

  Bree let her eyelids drift shut and pictured Will’s bright blue gaze, laughing one minute, concerned the next. The way his face lit up when he smiled, and his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed.

  BREE STOOD BESIDE her car with her cell phone to her ear, surveying a very flat tire.

  Come on, Sam. Answer the phone. Where are you? Her son should have been in the apartment by now. The bus would have dropped him off ten minutes ago.

  If she hadn’t tried to squeeze in a trip to the grocery store before heading home to meet Sam’s bus, she wouldn’t be where she was now. And just maybe she wouldn’t have had a flat tire at all. Sam. Where are you?

  “Hello?”

  Relief washed through Bree. “Sam. It’s Mom. I got a flat tire, and that’s why I didn’t get there in time for your bus. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay.”

  “I came straight home, just like you told me to if you weren’t at the bus stop.”

  “And you’re alone?”

  “Yes, Mom. I’m alone.” Condescension and sarcasm dripped from his young voice.

  “And you locked the door behind you?”

  Sam sighed loudly.

  “Okay, I’m sorry. I just want to make sure you’re safe. I’ll be home as soon as someone comes to change my tire.”

  “How come you can’t change your own tire?” Eight years old, and already Sam sounded like his father.

  “I know how to change a tire, but I’ve got my work clothes on.” Why was she defending herself? “Never mind. Just stay inside until I get there, and don’t let anyone in. Got it?”

  Sam groaned “Got it.”

  “There are fudge pops in the freezer. Why don’t you have one and get started on your homework?”

  “Can I go upstairs and see if Mr. Cameron is home? I want to show him the new signs I learned.”

  “Mr. Cameron is probably at work. But,” Bree added hastily to ward off another round of dramatic sighing, “you can go up and see if he’s there as soon as I get home. Okay?”

  “’Kay! Bye.” Sam disconnected leaving Bree feeling oddly alone on the only deserted stretch of roadway between the grocery store and home.

  She began hunting through her contacts for C.J.’s Auto Shop. Her road club would take forever to get here, but C.J.’s was just down the road, and he or his brother could be there in minutes. The sound of a motorcycle pierced the late afternoon quiet. The rumbling grew, still out of sight around the corner, but loud enough to be either a big machine or more than one.

  A nervous fluttering began in her stomach. Not all bikers were a threat. But still.

  Then the motorcycle rounded the bend and began to slow. She relaxed. It was a North Carolina State Trooper. She shoved her phone back into her pocket and waited for him to reach her.

  The big silver-gray bike pulled up behind her car and rumbled to a stop. The trooper swung his high-booted leg over the back of the bike, and flicked the kickstand down. Then he unsnapped his chinstrap and removed his helmet.

  Will Cameron!

  Bree swallowed hard.

  That was something that had been glaringly missing from the list of things she knew about him.

  He grinned as he approached. “Not your lucky day, I guess. Or maybe it is your lucky day considering I’m standing here.” Everything about him was overpoweringly masculine. Even the slightly overgrown hair that had been mussed by the helmet.

  “I was just about to call C.J.,” Bree said, trying to ignore the effect Will had on her libido.

  “Pop the trunk. I assume you’ve got a spare?” This manifestation of Will Cameron was definitely larger-than-life. He seemed taller than usual. And broader. Maybe it was the uniform. Or the bike. Or the fact that he was a trooper, and he was in rescuer mode.

  “Of course, I’ve got a spare.” She pressed the trunk button on her key fob and the lid clicked open.

  “Then I’ll have you back on the road in no time.”

  He reached into the trunk, spun the big nut that kept the spare in place, then hoisted it out as if it weighed nothing. Which it didn’t. A fact she knew because she almost hadn’t been able to lift it enough to retrieve an important slip of paper that had managed to slide down underneath a week earlier.

  The play of muscles rippling beneath the crisp fabric of his uniform shirt evoked the same breathless fascination she’d felt while watching him disassemble cardboard boxes wearing no shirt at all on the day he’d moved into her building. She wanted to look away but couldn’t bring herself to do so. She wanted not to be impressed but couldn’t manage that either.

  This was not a man it was safe to fall for. He was a cop. And cops led lives almost as dangerous as soldiers. He might be an easygoing Cub Scout den father, but there was no denying the pure animal magnetism he exuded. That confident grin of his with a deep dimple in one cheek and an extra lift to one corner of his sensuous, kissable-looking lips would charm any woman with a pulse. But she didn’t want to be charmed. Not now that she knew who he really was.

  “There you go.” Will was back on his feet, dusting off his impeccably creased trousers. He tossed the wounded tire into her trunk. “I’d offer to drop it off at C.J.’s for you, but it’s a little hard to haul a tire around on a motorcycle.”

  “Thanks for changing it. Sam says I should have been able to do it myself.” Why am I telling him this?

  “Sam doesn’t know what pavement can do to a pair of pantyhose.” Will glanced down at her legs and back up with leisurely deliberation. Then he winked.

  The rush of color made her cheeks feel like they were on fire. She began backing toward the driver’s door. “Thanks ag
ain.” She felt behind her for the door latch.

  Will put two fingers to his brow and saluted. “My pleasure,” he responded with that sexy drawl that made her insides melt like a toasted marshmallow. Then he returned to his motorcycle and tugged his helmet down over the disheveled blond locks that made him look both boyishly innocent and wolfishly handsome at the same time.

  He started his motorcycle but stayed where he was, straddling the bike with, until now unnoticed, blue lights blinking. With a gulp of understanding, Bree pulled herself together and jerked the door open and dropped into the driver’s seat. She yanked her seatbelt into place and started her car. He was waiting for her to pull back onto the road, and the blue lights were to provide a zone of safety while she did so.

  As soon as she was back on the road and up to speed, his lights went off, but he continued to follow her. She hadn’t done anything wrong, so why were her hands trembling on the wheel? Please, God, he’s not going to follow me all the way home, is he?

  He was still behind her when the entrance to Carlisle Place finally appeared on her right. She turned in, still nervous. Still wishing her savior had been anyone but Will.

  He waved and continued on down Jolee Road toward the ocean.

  Bree sighed with relief. Maybe it was a good thing he had been the trooper on the bike. At least now she knew things about him that were important to know. Things that eliminated him from her list of men it was safe to get involved with. If only she could dismiss him from her mind as easily.

  WILL WAVED AS Bree pulled into Carlisle Place. He’d have liked to follow her all the way home and perhaps find an excuse to spend a little more time with her. Maybe offer to carry the grocery bags he’d seen in the back seat of her car and just maybe get himself invited into her apartment. Even for just a few minutes.

  But he had to get his bike back to the garage at Ben’s place and locked up for the night.

  Neither Ben’s truck nor Meg’s minivan were in the driveway when he got there, so he stowed his bike and climbed into his Jeep.