"Mac, you lost someone you loved. You don't need to apologize to me if you lose it a little when she comes up. And I'm not the kind of girl to pity you anyway," she lied, hoping her voice didn’t betray her sympathy for his loss. "If that's what you're worried about. What else do you not mention on first dates?" she asked him, relaxing her hand in his grip, feeling his hand relax in turn. Her heart ached for his loss, though he obviously was offended by any sort of pity.
"My son," he said, his blue eyes going cold again, his shoulders stiffening.
"Why?" Cameron asked, sighing as they were interrupted again by the waiter. She rolled her eyes, grinning at Mac, who looked relieved. They were quiet for a while, adding ketchup and other condiments to their food, laughing as they each went for the fries first. Eventually, Cameron couldn't take the quiet anymore.
"Why don't you mention your son?" she asked again. She'd timed the question as he was biting into his burger, giving him time to think while he chewed.
"I don't mention my son," he said, swallowing, "for the same reason that I don't mention my wife. Because I don't particularly care for the rear view of running women. Not when they’re running out on me, anyway." He raised his eyebrow, defiantly taking another bite of his burger. Their eyes locked, and Cameron watched him as he chewed, watched the lump of his larynx bobbing as he swallowed.
"You think I'm going to run?" she asked, more a dare than a question. Despite the obvious fact that he'd been rejected and hurt in the dating arena, Cameron was slightly offended that he expected her to jump and flee simply because he was the human version of a packaged deal; it offended her that anyone could think she would reject a child without a second thought.
"No," he said, surprising her. She grinned, the smile freezing in place as he casually finished his statement. "You're a girl with good manners and a big heart. I think you'll at least finish your food, and you'll probably let me walk you to your car. And then you'll stop answering your cell phone."
"My, my," Cameron muttered, stung. "Aren't we cynical?" His brow rose again in challenge, and Cameron took the first bite of her burger, refusing to acknowledge the gleam of victory in his eyes. The bastard thought he was right!
"I'll tell you this, Mackenzie Caswell," she said, her voice rough with the challenge as she swallowed the bite. "I'm going to answer my phone. Now let's see if you have the balls to dial my number."
He choked, his hand frozen in front of his mouth, still clutching the French fry he'd been about to eat. "Excuse me?" he growled.
"You heard me. You think you have me pegged. Like I'm some sissy girl who can't date you because you've been touched by a tragedy or because you come preloaded with baggage." She waited a beat, watching his eyes harden and turn steely, and then fired on, the challenge in her words unmistakable. "You think I'm some spoiled princess who won't take you on because maybe your son doesn't fit my fairy tale dream of a perfect life and a perfect family."
His eyebrows shot upward, his forehead wrinkling as his brows approached the dark curls of his short hair. "And I'm wrong?" he challenged.
"You're damn right you are," Cameron fired. "So I'm going to eat this burger because it's delicious. I'm going to eat these stupid fries that will put me over my carbs, and I'm going to drink this tea because drinking it un-sweet makes me feel less guilty about the fries. And since you've sat here and offended me by calling me a coward, I'm going to act like the princess you think I am, and I'm going to expect you to pick up the check. After that, I'm going to get in my car and drive out of here."
His eyes lowered, his shoulders showing the weight of his burdens.
"And after that," Cameron continued, "I'm going to go home and spend the evening trying not to call you because I want to know if you're interested enough to face your fear of rejection and call me to see if I'll answer."
Victorious, she grinned and stuffed another fry in her mouth, trying not to laugh at his shocked expression.
***
"You're really not going to tell us anything about him?" Tabitha asked, her mouth forming a pout. She lowered her eyes, pretending to watch the dark head of the man working at her feet. She had been Cameron's best friend since before they could walk; she couldn't believe how tight-lipped Cam was being about her date! Too bad Tabitha had been considered a member of the family since birth; she was unable to hide her hurt from the women who'd known her all her life.
"Tabby, I just don't know him that well yet, and what I do know, well, that information belongs to him. It was just a getting-to-know-you thing, you know? But it’s not like I know everything. I don’t even know basic stuff like his favorite color; I don't know what he likes to eat, other than the burger he ordered. But you don't want to hear that he likes it with pickles and ketchup, and I can't tell anything bigger than that," Cameron's guilt seeped through her voice, and she stretched a hand over toward Tabitha, bridging the space between them.
"Whatev, you just don't want to say anything," Cameron's sister, Harmony, chipped in. "Are you so cynical that you can't even tell us about a date now? Are you really so sure it won't work out? What - is one earlobe bigger than the other? Are his eyes the wrong color? His shoe size is off?"
"Just because you're a serial dater doesn't mean you know everything, Harmony," Cameron retorted, stinging under her sister's words. "We have spent so much of our lives right beside each other, but I don't know everything about you because you are your own person. You all need to see that I'm my own person, too. None of you know everything, nor do you need to. There are some things I just don't tell people about, and for good reason. Right now, Mackenzie Caswell is one of those things."
Eva sighed, the petite Korean at her feet silently motioning for her to lower her toes back into the soft heat of the oiled pool bubbling at the foot of her chair. "Cameron," she said softly. Unlike the other women in their little group, Eva knew the source of Cameron's bitterness, and she agreed that there are some things you just don't tell everyone. Still, she, like the others, couldn't help wishing for more details. She wanted her daughter to let go of the past so that she could finally embrace a future of her own.
"Isn't there anything you can tell?" Tabitha asked, flinching as the elegant fingers of the man at her feet hit a ticklish spot with his pumice stone. He chuckled, making her blush, and chattered to the young woman at Cass's feet.
"I'm so glad we all came out together today for pedicures," Cass sighed. "But it's only a first date, right? She'll tell more when she's ready." Her eyes fluttered closed as her feet were encased in bags of hot wax, the bag manipulated by the slender Korean girl chattering to her companion. When the wax had fully covered Cass's feet to the girl's preference, she wrapped Cass's feet in towels and motioned for Cass to wait while she wandered off to wash her hands.
'Thanks Cass," Cameron said, leaning forward slightly to see around Tabitha, ignoring the surprised grunt of the boy massaging oil into her calves.
"Well, I'm not saying it in an entirely sisterly fashion," Cass grinned wickedly. "You see, I also have some personal experience with Cameron's date. And I’m happy to tell all about him."
"Oh God, I have no allies," Cameron groaned. She rolled her eyes and thumped back in her seat, raising the back of her hand dramatically to her forehead.
"Oh stop it," Eva muttered. She leaned forward and turned to Cass. "Do tell, darling. My daughter's silence is as impenetrable as Helen Keller’s silence during her childhood years. Tell me something; keep this poor old mother from wasting away on the outskirts of her firstborn child's life."
Cameron peeled an eye open, looking left and right at the women surrounding her. "Apparently, this pedicure thing was a bad idea," she grumbled.
"Talk, talk!" Harmony urged. She, too, leaned forward in her chair, earning an irritated "hmph" from the wide mouth of the man at her feet. His slanted liquid eyes shot daggers at her, the round tips of his fingers digging slightly into her calf as his other hand struggled to neatly work a polish brush over her toes.
<
br /> From the other end of the line of women, Cass giggled. "Well, I don't know how safe this is for me to say in front of Drew's family women, but may I say - yum."
"Cass!" Cameron squeaked, covering her face. "Yum, really?"
"Well, yeah." Cass looked around, making sure she had the attention of the women around her. "He's got this dark hair, and eyes so blue. They shock you a bit when you look into them, and he's understanding and sweet. Then again, having been a patient of his, I may have an exaggerated view of his understanding and his ability to be a good listener." She allowed her voice to trail off, just in time for the other women to hear Cameron's snort.
"Is he not a good listener, Cam?" Tabitha asked, her eyes popping open, her lids heavy under the skilled hands massaging her calves.
"Yes, he seemed to be. On the first date where we were both nervous, and have I mentioned that we don't know each other well? Aren't any of you good listeners?" Cameron's irritation was growing, the water surrounding her feet bubbling as if the heat of her temper had caused it to boil.
"Well I've been listening quietly, thank you very much," Eva muttered, turning her foot this way and that, admiring the shimmering red polish on her toes. "Slut red," she said with approval. "Think your father will like slut red, honey?"
"Oh dear God. Mom, please!" Harmony yelped. "Can't you at least pretend for my sake to be adequately old?"
"’Adequately old?’" Eva asked, ignoring the giggles of Cameron, Tabitha and Cassaundra from her other side. She twisted, looking her youngest daughter squarely in the eyes. "’Adequately old’ for what?" she asked.
"Mom, please don't make me say," Harmony begged, causing the other women to laugh louder.
"Oh you mean that I'm too old to feel sexy, is that it?" Eva retorted, ignoring Harmony's desperate groan and the amused cackle of an elderly Korean woman a few chairs down.
"Okay, if it will make you not talk about your sex life with dad, I'll tell you something about Mac," Cameron shrieked, her discomfort raising her voice in both volume and octave.
Eva laughed. "I take it you don't want to hear, then, about his --"
"Mom, he drives a motorcycle," Cameron interrupted, desperate not to hear the rest of what Eva had been about to say.
"What?!" Cass shouted, her face flushing as she realized how loud she'd been. "Oh my gosh, really?"
"Mmhmm," Cameron said. "And he wore ripped jeans and a beaten leather coat to our date. Very bad boy image going out."
"From a therapist?" Cass asked, surprised.
Cameron laughed. "Well, sure, silly. He can't be a therapist all the time, can he? And when he’s not working, if he wants to be a hottie with ripped jeans and a five o'clock shadow, who rides a sleek black motorcycle, then I doubt I'll complain much. Besides, that’s only my conception of the leather-jacket-wearing biker types. They may look bad, but I bet they’re all softies under that gristle."
"Well that's all fine and dandy," Eva muttered, “but don't you get on that thing, you hear?"
With the sounds of laughter in her ears, Cameron shook her head. "Aww, mom, that's cute. But he hasn't exactly invited me." She winked devilishly. “Not yet anyway.”
"Hmph," Eva replied, unable to contain her grin as the other women continued laughing.
***
Walking through the door to what she thought of as her starter home, Cameron kicked off her sandals and admired again the wild ice blue toenail polish she'd chosen as part of her pedicure. Ignoring the fact that she'd chosen the color because it was so like Mac's eyes, she hung her keys on the hook by the door and moved into the living room, pulling her cell phone from her pocket and turning it on.
"Voice-mail already! All I did was get a pedicure with the girls," she grumbled, watching the boot screen on her phone give way to the regular home screen, and light up with the voice-mail indicator. Sighing, she tapped the on-screen button and held the tiny cell phone to her ear.
"Well, look at that." Mac's voice rumbled through the speaker, a hint of laughter in his tone. Cameron froze, her lips curving up in a grin as she listened. "I did it. I mustered up - what was it that you said I needed? Balls? Well, I've mustered up the balls to call you, and there, you didn't answer. I guess the balls are in your court now, pretty lady. Let's see if you have the fortitude to juggle them."
She laughed and played the message again. "Feisty one, then, aren't you?" she muttered to herself, pressing the icon that led to her missed call list. She tapped his number, and wandered to her room as she listened to the ringing on the line.
"Hello?" he asked, when he answered the call.
"Fortitude? You want to know if I've got fortitude?" Cameron laughed.
"Ah, the pretty lady from the diner! Well, I've proven I've got balls, I guess," he laughed. "It was your turn to prove something."
"I see," Cameron said. "Shall I mark this as a tie on my scoreboard then?" She piled several pillows against the upholstered headboard and flopped against them, stretching her legs out and crossing her ankles.
"I'd rather you didn't, actually," he answered, sobering. "I prefer not to keep score in a relationship. It's a long-term philosophy; I always say I'd rather be happy than always be right."
"Oh a therapist, a biker boy, and now a philosopher. You are really quite the catch then, aren't you? All those personalities in there; I’d have all the variety I can handle, all in one man," Cameron laughed, twirling a dark curl around one finger.
"Oh yes, the women are just beating at my door. I tell you, some days, I don't know how I fight them all off. Vultures, I tell you; they all want a piece of this." His laughter rumbled through the phones, flowing into Cameron's ear and igniting a flame in her blood.
"I bet they're just trying to get through you to your son," she laughed. "A tiny version of you has got to be just the cutest thing on the planet. What's his name?"
He was quiet for a while, long enough for Cameron to wonder if he was still there. She held the phone away from her face, checking that the call timer was still counting. It was. "Mac?" she asked.
"His name is Logan," he answered, his voice steady and quiet.
"Look, Mac, I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about him, I understand, and --"
"I don't mind," he interrupted. "I'm a parent; of course I want to talk about him. It's just that on the dating scene, most women prefer that I pretend he doesn't exist. I'm not used to women asking about him, about that part of my life."
"I bet you get lots of willowy blondes that want to know your favorite color and what's your sign, huh?" Cameron laughed nervously, slipping the button loose in the waist of her jeans. Slipping the zipper down, she shoved the snug jeans down over her hips, kicking them off and over the edge of the bed.
"Not as many as you might think," he answered, as she adjusted the elastic waist of her yellow boy-short panties and covered them with the long t-shirt she had on.
"Really? You prefer redheads then?" she teased.
"Lately, I prefer you," he answered, causing Cameron's breath to trip, bunching up in her chest.
"How do you know that?" she asked, pulling the thick quilt from the bed and swirling it around her legs. "You don't know me at all."
"In my line of work, I usually get a good idea of who someone is within thirty minutes of meeting them. I didn't with you, but you somehow got me to blurt out about my wife, and now about my son. I've never dated anyone who asked me to talk about my son."
"Really?" This seemed surprising to Cameron, until her usual pessimism rose up to remind her of how selfish and uncaring people could be. She knew from experience how cold the dating scene could be, how cruel people could be, how thoughtless.
"Really. Dating is unbelievably different from when I was first dating my wife. You know, back then, you wanted to know everything about each other, and you worked up to the bigger aspects of a relationship. But now, everything is much faster, and much less personal. Is it different for you?"
"Oh yeah, lots different," Cameron said d
ryly. "Because you're exactly right, and that's the reason I don't date. I'm not into the whole hooking up, one-night-stand thing. And a lot of guys now have this two-date or three-date rule, where if you don't put out by then, you're not worth the investment of his time. I'm not into all that, you know? I’m just not that kind of girl. When I'm lonely, I'd rather be lonely by myself than to be lonely with someone right beside me who doesn't care to know me."
"Exactly!" Mac laughed. "That's exactly it!"
"Does that happen with women too? That women are just looking for something quick and then they move on?"
"Oh yeah, especially if I tell them about my son. Every woman who knows about him automatically seems to think I'm sizing them up for mommy material."
"I should think you'd feel obligated to," Cameron answered softly. "With your son, you have to think that any woman who has dating potential might have permanent potential. And that means you need to think about whether you want your son exposed or not. Right?"
Prescription For Love (The Kingsley Series) Page 6
