Prescription For Love (The Kingsley Series)

by Kennedy, Brandi

  "Which was?" Tabitha asked, mumbling around a bite of meatloaf.

  "He asked me why I haven't covered the tattoo or had it removed, and I told him I didn't want to risk it scarring up any more than it did. So then he said, 'okay, then, why not reword it?'"

  Tabitha looked up, confused. "Reword it? To what?"

  "I don't know," Cameron answered, "but even something as simple as changing it from 'my own' to 'I am my own' would be good. Mac said it's like I'd be reclaiming myself, my body. Empowering, you know?"

  "I think it would be. It sounds like a really good idea, too. 'I am my own.' I'd get that, myself, if I wasn't such a wuss."

  "Well, you could come with me. I can't go anytime in the next few days, but I'm going as soon as I can fit it in to have something done to it. Maybe we can have them duplicate mine, on you."

  "Please, like I'm that brave." Tabitha made a show of putting her arms around herself protectively, and Cameron laughed.

  "I'm not either," she said. "But I'm sick of feeling like I'm branded. Like a cow in his herd or something. Like the others. It's time I step out and take myself back, my independence, you know? It’ll always be a tattoo, but if I add to it, edit it, then it’s mine, you know, and not something of his. Even if you got it too, it wouldn’t be the same as Kevin’s other victims having this one. It’d be a friendship thing, like sisters. Different."

  "I like that," Tabitha grinned. "Like peeling off an old property sticker."

  "Exactly!" Cameron exclaimed. "And we’ll just ignore the fact that some people might see it as putting on a new one,” she said, laughing.

  “Aw, honey, I promise, I’m easier to belong to than Kevin was. ‘Cause I love ya.” Tabitha winked, taking another bite of her meatloaf and tucking it into her cheek. “I don’t know how you can do it, Cameron. The tattoo thing, you’re so fearless.”

  “But I'm not fearless, I’m terrified it’ll hurt, or that it’ll trigger a panic attack,” Cameron answered, startled by what Tabitha had said. “Actually I wanted to ask; will you come with me? Even if you don’t get one, you could keep me company when I go to get it changed if you want."

  Reaching over the table to touch Cameron's arm, Tabitha sobered. "After everything? And how I feel about letting you leave the party that night with Kevin? Yeah, I'm totally with you, Cam. You're not going through it alone."

  "Thanks, Tabby. Sure you don't wanna go matchy? I'll treat."

  Tabitha laughed again, pressing her plate to the side. "We'll see," she said.

  ***

  "I think he needs to lose the bow tie," Cameron muttered, grinning at the stern look her mother shot her.

  "Cameron Jane!" Eva exclaimed. "That bow tie is charming!"

  Drew laughed, snaking the sapphire bow tie from around his neck and handing it back to the tailor. "Sorry mom, but she's right. Bow ties are kinda old fashioned for me," he continued, raising his hands as his mother glared. "They just aren't my style."

  "Well, I'm wearing one," Nick said charmingly from behind Eva. She turned, satisfied, and smiled up at him. "I knew there was a reason my son liked you," she said. "And now look at you, the best man at his wedding. I remember when you boys were little, covered in dirt, and now look at you both." Pulling a tissue from her purse, she dabbed at her eyes.

  Giving a devilish grin to everyone else over her shoulder, Nick pulled Eva in close to him. "That's right, and with my mom gone so long, you're all I've got, Miss Eva. And if a bow tie impresses you, I'm wearing one." He waited a beat, raising the drama factor, and then said, "But it can’t be this one. It has to be pink. With lime green polka dots. Cass will love it."

  Eva stiffened, and as the room filled with laughter, she backed away from Nick and swatted his broad chest. "You just can't control yourself, can you? Always a jokester. At least, you’d better be joking." Laughing with everyone else, she wandered over to her husband, Adam, who was struggling to get his own bow tie knotted correctly.

  "Old fashioned, they may be," she said, reaching up to brush Adam's hands away from his throat. She took over the bow, straightening and twisting until it was to her satisfaction. "But, they match your vests so nicely, and oh, how they look handsome."

  Cameron watched as her father dipped his face to drop a kiss on Eva's lips. It never failed to amaze her, how in love they were. Watching them gave her hope; it almost made her believe that true love could still exist, though it brought to the surface her lingering fear that true love came only once in a lifetime. What if she'd met her true love already, a man in a coffee shop who let her skip him in line, or a boy in high school who helped when she dropped her books? What if she'd somehow missed her opportunity, like a one-way train ticket she'd bought too late?

  "What do you think, Cam?" Adam asked, moving to stand beside Drew and Nick, the three of them dressed sharply in the tuxedos they'd be wearing to Drew's wedding. He passed his hands over his jacket, smoothing it over the violet vest that covered his shirt, and raised his eyebrows skeptically. "Will we do the Kingsley family proud?"

  Cameron and Tabitha looked to each other, and then turned to inspect the men. Contrary to Nick's irrepressible jokes, he was dressed elegantly in a black tuxedo that matched the one Drew had chosen. Drew's sapphire vest was the exact color of the giant flower that would be pinned to the gathered side of Cass's hip, and he was amazingly handsome, the happy twinkle in his green eyes a testament to his excitement. Nick wore a vest of emerald green, the same color Cass's sister Chelsea was planning to wear as a bridesmaid at the wedding.

  Cameron laughed. "Daddy, you look great; Cass will be so pleased with all this. And you’ll fit her colors perfectly!" she exclaimed. Turning to Tabitha, she asked, "What do you think?"

  Tabitha looked quietly at the men in front of her, her gaze lingering on each of them before moving on. "I think they're all perfect," she said. "We plan weddings all the time, but you guys are like family to me. I'm just so happy to be included in all this."

  Looking around, Drew slipped his jacket off and stood for the tailor to measure his shoulders and throat. "I thought you'd said Mac was coming with you today Cameron? Did he get his tux somewhere else?"

  "No, he was going to come, because he says the one he keeps for conferences and stuff is a little tight in the shoulders. But he called me earlier to say he had something come up with a patient that he couldn't put off."

  "I see," Adam said, slipping his jacket off to allow access to the tailor. "He's still coming to the wedding though?"

  Cameron laughed. "Of course he is; he just didn't make it today for this. Mac has told me a few times that he'd like to meet all of you; he's even got someone who's going to cover his practice for the wedding so that he could be sure he'd make it."

  "Wow, he must have really wanted you to know he'd be there, huh?" Tabitha laughed, leaning close to nudge Cameron with her elbow.

  Shaking her head, Cameron laughed again and rolled her eyes. Still, she couldn't help wishing that Mac had been able to come to the fitting with the other men. Michael and Evan had already come and gone, and as the tailors got down to their business, the conversation gradually slowed and then died out. Cameron sat with Tabitha and watched as her brother was fitted for his wedding, their mother tearfully clucking at him as she pestered the tailors.

  She sighed. There had never been any intention in the beginning, any thought or expectation that things with Mac would go the way that they had. She hadn't dared to hope for his genuine affection, had held herself back from men for over a decade. Now she hoped she hadn't missed out on love, hoped that Mac would be another chance for her to forget about her past, that she might begin to finally build a future.

  She'd been able to ignore her romantic longings for years, too afraid to step out of her self-protective isolation and reach for the love she wanted. But something about Mac had changed everything. Now, she was less and less able to turn her heart away from its fantasies; she was less and less able to pretend that she wasn't hoping he'd turn out to be th
e hero every woman wanted.

  ***

  "So what'd you say this thing was called?" Cameron asked nervously, running her fingertips lightly over the raised rear seat of his motorcycle.

  Laughing, Mac pressed a helmet into her hands. "It's the Suzuki Boulevard, the M90. You still worried?"

  "Uh, yeah. This thing has no doors, no roof. No seat belt." She thrilled at the idea of riding the sleek black bike, her thighs pressed tightly to Mac’s waist, her arms around his body. Still, the idea of falling off or leaning too far in the wrong direction and causing the bike to go down terrified her. "I'm just thinking I won't look very pretty at Drew's wedding with road rash on my forehead."

  Standing back, Mac braced his hip on the edge of the bike, his arms crossed over his chest. He smiled, the dimples in his stubbled cheeks calling her sexuality to life. "You sure you want to ride with me? We could take your car," he said gently, the laughter in his voice challenging her to stand up to her fears.

  "You're sure I won't fall off? I mean, it really doesn't have --"

  "It has me," he interrupted. "You won't fall off. Come on, we'll circle the block and then if you're still scared, we'll take your car."

  "Well, okay," Cameron hedged, lifting the heavy helmet in her hands. She raised it over her head, fitting it down snugly, desperately hoping it wouldn't cause her hair to go limp. Looking out through the tinted face shield, she watched Mac suck in a breath, his teeth catching his full lower lip. "What? I look stupid in this thing, don't I?" she asked, her voice muffled through the shield.

  Mac threw his head back, roaring with laughter. "Uh, no," he said between bouts of laughter. Finally, he sobered and stepped closer to her. He settled his hands lightly on her hips and said, "With those curls spilling out from underneath and your face hidden behind the tint, you look like a little badass. And if I can say so without you getting self-conscious on me, you look so sexy I could burst."

  "Oh, I see," Cameron answered, hoping desperately that he couldn't see her flaming face. "Shall we get going then?" she asked.

  "Absolutely," Mac replied, reluctantly releasing Cameron and turning to the bike. He slung one leg over the back of the motorcycle as naturally as if he'd been riding since birth, and then turned to Cameron. "Ready?" he asked, holding his hand out for her. Gulping, she took his hand and sighed. Swinging her leg over, she settled behind him, the unusual feeling of her spread thighs sending a jolt to her lower stomach.

  "Okay, now, you'll want your arms around me to help you feel steady on the bike, but other than that, just stick to my back and try to trust me," he threw over his shoulder.

  "Uh huh, sure," Cameron muttered, allowing her hands to slip around his waist, just above the tops of her thighs. His body rippled under her hands, and as her hands slid over the firm surface of his chest, heat pooled between her thighs. Mac took a ragged breath, pursing his lips to exhale forcefully as he lifted his own helmet over his head.

  "Here goes," he said. She felt his chest expand again in her hands; he lifted his feet to the bike and they were off. Gripping his chest, her fingers clutched his shirt, her thighs squeezing tight around his waist. They reached the end of her street, Cameron's stomach flipping in panic as Mac leaned the bike close to the road and rounded the corner.

  By the end of the time it took them to circle the block, Mac was halfway hoping Cameron would choose to take her car to their date. He needed the time to get his raging body under control. The heat of her thighs wrapped around his body paired with the firm rounds of her breasts against his back, and he'd found himself struggling to stay attentive to the bike. Her fingertips clutching the muscles of his chest hadn't helped, and all he could seem to think of was how good it would feel to have those fingers running up and down his naked back, her thighs around his waist for entirely different reasons.

  He turned the bike into her driveway and dropped his feet to keep them steady, turning his head to ask what she wanted to do. Sitting back, she lifted the helmet from her head and shook out her curls, making him imagine what she would look like tangled up in his bed. He cleared his throat. "Wanna take your car? Or was the bike okay?"

  "I like it!" she exclaimed, excitement flaring in her eyes. Her smile was contagious, and in the moment, she looked free of the burdens she usually carried. "It's like horses, but, you know, different."

  Laughing, he propped an elbow on her knee and leaned back, resting in the cloud of vanilla scent that followed wherever she went. "So, you want to take your car, or ride with me? The carnival rides await, my lady."

  "You know what? We'll take the bike. It's actually kind of fun," she laughed. Raising the helmet and settling it back on her head, she lay against him, snaking her arms around his body again, and they were off.

  By evening, they'd both ingested enough carnival food to turn both their stomachs. They'd flipped and twisted on the tilt-a-whirl, they'd chatted comfortably on the Ferris wheel, and they'd clenched hands, screaming on a dozen other rides. They'd played midway games, they'd wandered aimlessly, and they were flat-out exhausted.

  The carefree fun of the evening had taken Cameron's hormones down memory lane, to a time when she'd felt free to explore her sexual nature and her longing for romance. On the quiet ride back from the carnival, she'd pressed the roundness of her helmet to Mac's shoulder, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the feeling of his chest working under her hands. He maneuvered the bike with skilled finesse, and for the first time in over a decade, Cameron felt safe with a man she wasn't related to.

  Pulling up in front of her house, Mac dropped his feet and waited for Cameron to slip away from him, the cool evening air on his back as her body left his motorcycle. He turned, reaching up to remove his helmet and prop it on the bike as he swung his leg over. Propping the kickstand to hold the bike, he waited for Cameron to remove her helmet and shake out her hair, fighting the urge to step forward and take her in his arms.

  He didn't have to fight for long, she stepped forward on her own, coming closer to him as she reached to prop her helmet next to his. When she turned her face to his, Mac thought he might choke on his own breath in surprise, and his chest tightened as she placed her hands flat on the planes of his stomach. Stepping closer, she brought her eyes to his, her bottom lip nervously slipping between her teeth.

  "I had a really good time, Mac. It's been so long since I really felt like I could let go and have fun," she murmured, her eyes wide as his hands settled on her hips.

  "I'm glad you feel safe with me," he choked, trying not to throw her over his shoulder like a caveman and take her right there in the yard.

  "Thank you," she said, leaning forward. Her breasts pressed lightly to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt, she tilted her face and pressed her lips to his. Hearing his desperate groan as he struggled for control, Cameron smiled to herself against his kiss.

  "And that's why I feel safe with you," she whispered. Her hands slipped up over the muscles of his chest, over his shoulders, and her fingers laced loosely behind his neck, the close-cut ends of his hair tickling her thumbs. "I know you'll be careful with me, that this will never go anywhere that I don't want it to go." His breath tickled her cheek as she tipped her head and kissed the square edge of his jaw.

  "God, Cameron," he whispered, his breath catching and then spilling out in a rush. Realizing how tightly he was clenching her hips, he forced his fingers to loosen, and dipped his head to press his forehead to hers. "You'd better go inside," he gasped. "There's a monster in your driveway that wants to devour you."

  She laughed. "He won't," she said, "I know he won't. He's a pussycat. Still, I'll go on, just in case." She touched the tip of her tongue to the corner of his mouth, running it along the curve of his bottom lip, tasting him as he stood desperately rigid against her. Pressing one last kiss to his mouth, she turned and walked to her door.

  ***

  Pulling away from Cameron's house, Mac struggled to contain his thoughts and focus on controlling his motorcycl
e, eventually giving up and parking the bike next to the walkway along the river.

  The sound of the water flowing followed him as he walked, drawing on his training as he focused on his relationship with Cameron. She was a bundle of contradiction; one moment so fragile in the wake of her tragedies that he feared watching her shatter, and the next moment, so strong and bold and brave that he was almost glad she'd been broken, if only because her brokenness allowed her to build such strength of character.

  She reminded him of Alex as he'd watched her die, as the cancerous tumor had devoured her brain and taken her life. She'd spent her days bravely raising their son for as long as she could, and spent the nights melting in his arms, kissing him goodbye instead of goodnight, always afraid that the next morning would not give life to her stricken body.

  There was one vital difference between them, though, and that was the fact that Cameron's brokenness would not take her life, it had not crushed her spirit or left her without the strength of her will. She had been determined to go on, and she had spent the last ten years of her life building a life that she could love.