“Hold on.” Cam wrapped his arm around her, steadying her. Her body was almost too pliant. He looked at Roxie. He didn’t like backing down to her, but he knew how to pick his battles—and he sensed a lot more coming. “Fine. You win. Where should I take her?”
The combat in the other woman’s eyes turned to concern. “My apartment is right upstairs.”
Lexie leaned more heavily against him. “I think I need to sit down.”
“You can lie down, hon. You can have my bed.” Roxie started moving across the floor. She glanced back at Cam as he helped Lexie along. “I promise she’ll be fine.”
“You’re damn right she will be.”
The barmaid blinked in surprise, her long strides slowing. “Is that trust or a threat?”
“Neither. I’m staying too.”
She came to a complete standstill. “You are not staying in my apartment.”
The smile he gave her was hard. She thought she could outmaneuver him? People paid him big bucks to see all the angles, and he’d found the only compromise that would work for him. “She’s with you? I’m with her. Get used to it. You just got yourself two houseguests.”
Chapter Five
Lexie didn’t feel so good. The room was starting to tilt, and Cam was the only thing keeping her steady. He was pressed against her side, and he had his arm wrapped around her waist like one of those security bars on a rollercoaster.
Rollercoaster. Not the thing to think about just now. The room suddenly went into a dive, and she closed her eyes to try to right it.
The security bar tightened. “Roxie?” Cam growled close to her ear.
“Fine,” her sister snapped. “You can both stay.”
He was staying? Lexie’s stomach flipped. Her topsy-turvy day had just been upended completely. She’d found an identical twin and Cameron Rowe had kissed her silly. The world was not right. She peeked at the man at her side. He shouldn’t even be here. But he was. She could feel him from head to toe and, honestly, he was the only thing that felt good right now.
Roxie went to speak with Charlie behind the bar. “Do you mind if I knock off early tonight?”
The good-natured owner rolled his eyes. “Get out of here. Your billboard doubled our crowd and you found a sister along the way. Hell, take tomorrow off too.”
“I’ll take you up on that.” Roxie grabbed Lexie’s purse and suit jacket from where they’d tucked them under the register.
Lexie reached for the jacket eagerly. From the day Cameron Rowe had started at Underhill, she’d done everything she could to appear professional, polished and competent. Her gaze fell on the bar, and she stopped in her search for an armhole.
Well, that image had just been blown to bits.
“Let’s go,” he said with a nudge.
With regret, she folded the jacket over her arm. It was bunched and backwards, but she didn’t have the wherewithal to figure it out. His shoulder brushed against hers, and awareness danced over her skin.
“This way,” Roxie said.
Getting to the door wasn’t as easy as it sounded. The crowd was still jumping, and their main attraction was leaving. The novelty of twins had been a big hit. Roxie waved off invitations and smiled soothingly but, for Lexie, the crowd was getting a bit close.
Cam tucked her up tighter against him. “Hold on just a bit longer.”
Like things would be better when they were alone?
Heat crawled up into her cheeks. This wasn’t like her at all. A cocktail was the most she usually consumed, and then only if the business situation called for it. She didn’t like being foggy. Landers could go out drinking with clients, but she liked to be sharp.
She didn’t feel sharp right now. Dull would be a compliment. She’d danced atop the bar for a crowd of bikers, for God’s sake. And Cam, of all people, had been there to witness it. Her nerves jangled. She’d spent the past three months on guard against him. Would he use that against her? Against her staff?
If she still had a job.
Roxie held the door open so they could pass through, and Lexie gulped down the night air. She felt Cam watching, and she straightened from him. Raking a hand through her hair, she tried to tame it.
His gaze flicked over her for a long moment but then focused on the street. “You live here?” he asked Roxie as he scoped out the dark spaces.
“You don’t have to stay,” her sister said tightly.
“Oh yes I do.”
“I’m sorry to be so much trouble,” Lexie murmured. She was struggling to keep her purse on her shoulder. It was tiny, but the strap was long and delicate. The combination was a little too much.
“It’s okay, hon,” Roxie assured. “I’m feeling a bit tipsy too.”
“I’m so tired.” Tilting her head back, Lexie let the night air slide over her hot face.
“It’s just up these stairs.”
They stopped at the stoop one door down from the bar. It opened to two first-floor apartments and a set of stairs. Roxie started climbing. The staircase was empty, but the area was clean and well lit. Still, the beat of the music penetrated the walls, and the crowded sense of the bar seeped over into the private dwellings.
Cam’s gaze swept the corners of the staircase. The sense of awareness he had seemed ingrained. “How many flights up?”
“Two.”
“I’ll take her.”
Lexie swatted at him when he reached for her again. “I’m fine.”
His eyebrows rose, but then a corner of his mouth lifted. It stopped her in her tracks. She’d never seen him smile before. She’d thought it physically impossible.
Roxie hovered three steps up. “You two aren’t going to start making out again, are you?”
Lexie flushed. She grabbed the railing and started upwards. Every move she made was precise, just half-time. She finally got her purse looped over her shoulder so it wouldn’t slide off, and she tossed her hair back with pride. The move was too quick, though, and she shut her eyes.
“Spinning?” Roxie asked.
“Just a twirl.”
She felt Cam’s touch on her waist, only this time it was farther down, closer to her hip. Lexie tried to go faster, knowing he wouldn’t let go until they were all the way up. The contact burned, the ball of his hand brushing with every flex of her butt.
Roxie fished her keys out of her pocket when they made it to the third floor. Up here, the music was muted. Only a soft, persistent beat made it all the way upwards.
Lexie’s gaze swept the apartment with interest as she entered. Roxie flicked on the lamp by the sofa and looked around anxiously. She straightened a pillow on the couch and tidied up the magazines on the coffee table. The one-bedroom apartment wasn’t that large, and she didn’t have many belongings to fill the space. What she did have, though, was style. Her taste was offbeat and quirky. Half rocker, half New Age, but it suited her.
Lexie’s lips pursed when she saw the scene out the living room window. On the third floor, the apartment was above the trees with a perfect view of the Cobalt River. Not too high, and not so far to fall. The moon reflected off the water, making it look like flowing black silk. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, it’s why I took the place. Normally, I’d prefer to live farther away from work, but I couldn’t pass it up.”
Lexie wandered around the cozy apartment. “I love it.” She swept her fingers through the beaded fringe that hung off the lampshade and sighed. “My mother is the only one who decorates at our house.”
“You still live at home?”
“I made it as far as the guesthouse. Pathetic, isn’t it?”
Cam caught Roxie’s eye. “It’s expected. They all still live at the manor.”
The manor. Lexie grimaced at the bad taste it left in her mouth. There was no way she could have gone back there tonight. Not with the way she was feeling and acting. Not after what had happened this morning when her family had turned on her.
She focused her blurring gaze on her twin. This
afternoon was the first time she’d felt totally accepted. Free to be herself—or somebody entirely different. She’d been comfortable enough to let down her guard, to not care what people thought, and she loved her sister for that. The bond she’d felt when they’d first looked at each other had snapped into place. It wasn’t going to yield. Ever.
Tears pressed at Lexie’s eyes, and she blinked fast. Nobody liked a weepy drunk.
Roxie dropped her keys onto the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the living area. “Well, it’s not manor-ish, but it is home. Welcome to Chez Cannon.”
She rubbed her hands on her jeans, while Cam stood like an immovable force in the middle of the room. Lexie wasn’t sure what to do. If she sat, she might not get back up. Instead, she let her purse and jacket tumble onto the chair. Even they were becoming too heavy for her.
Roxie hooked her thumbs in the loops of her low-riding jeans and drummed her fingers on her hipbones. “Anyone hungry?”
Food. Blech. Just the idea made Lexie queasy. She shook her head, but that made the room give another twirl.
Cam caught her elbow. “She needs to lie down.”
“So do I,” Roxie said. “She can sleep with me.”
Lexie peeked through her lashes to see Cam’s brow furrowing, but Roxie pounced faster.
“Contrary to the mouth-mating session downstairs, I know you two aren’t a couple.” Her sister pointed across the room. “The sofa is a foldout. It’s all yours, Hatchet Man.” She grabbed Lexie’s hand, not allowing any argument. “You can wear something of mine. I’d lay odds we’re the same size.”
Lexie went along mutely as she was herded into the bedroom.
Roxie turned on the bedside lamp and closed the door behind them, blocking Cam out. “I don’t know what he thinks I’m going to do,” she growled. She pulled the curtains closed before opening a dresser drawer and flipping through clothes. “Here.” She tossed a matching set of shorts and a spaghetti-strapped top onto the bed. “It’s about as sedate as I get.”
“Thank you.” Bracing one hand on the wall, Lexie lifted her foot back to grab her shoe. She teetered once, but when Roxie moved to help, she sent her a look of defiance.
“Okay. Sorry.” Her sister held up her hands. She let out a sigh and glanced at the door. “Are you really okay with Attila the Hun being here?”
Lexie bit her lip. She’d never imagined a situation where she’d be stripping with Rowe right in the next room. Or one where they’d be sleeping in the same apartment. Or one where he’d kissed her like a sailor on the first night of shore leave.
Ducking her head, she went for her other shoe. “I guess I have to be.”
“What’s his deal?” Without an ounce of shyness, Roxie kicked off her boots and unzipped her jeans. She peeled them off and dropped them on the floor.
Lexie heard the squeak of the Hide-A-Bed opening, and shivers danced down her spine. “I don’t have a clue.”
Roxie stripped her tank top over her head and turned back the bedcovers. Half-naked, she tugged a lacy nightie from under her pillow. She let it slip over her head and down her body before nailing Lexie with a look. “You didn’t tell me he was sex on a stick.”
Lexie’s head snapped up. She’d managed to get her skirt off, but the silk chemise was proving more difficult. She stopped with it pulled up halfway to expose her midriff.
“Oh, don’t give me that look. That man could melt the polar ice caps, if not for his sparkling personality.”
“He makes me nervous,” Lexie admitted. She rolled her shoulders and was relieved when the fabric lifted and she could get it over her head.
“And by nervous, you mean wet?”
The top fluttered to the floor.
“Come on, you can tell me,” Roxie pressed. “He has to have some redeeming features.”
Lexie stood in her bra and panties, her face hot. “My heart pounds whenever I hear him coming down the hallway at work,” she blurted.
“In a bad way or good?”
“I always thought bad before.” Until that kiss downstairs… And the way he’d held her so protectively from the crowd…
Roxie slipped into bed and propped herself up on her side. “You say he’s your father’s right-hand man?”
Lexie nodded as she undid her bra. It fell to the floor, and she pulled the softer nylon tank over her head. It skimmed down her body and settled close.
Roxie clicked her tongue. “Same size everywhere.”
Carefully, Lexie bent over to put on the shorts. Each time she lifted a foot, she took a moment to make sure she was steadied. Finally, she padded towards the bed. Slipping under the covers, she mirrored Roxie’s pose.
“I thought you two were going to do it right against the jukebox,” Roxie said.
Lexie fingered the pillowcase’s embroidering. “I don’t know why he did that. We’ve barely even spoken before.”
“I think his reason was pretty clear. He doesn’t want to talk.”
The pillowcase wrinkled. “I don’t know why I did that.”
“Do I have to paint a picture? You want him too.”
“Am I really that drunk?”
Roxie snorted. “Somehow I doubt that if Skeeter had tried the same move he’d have gotten away without your knee in his privates.”
Lexie glanced towards the wall when she heard the squeak of metal on metal. That foldout sofa sounded like it hadn’t been used in years. “But I don’t trust him.”
“And you shouldn’t. The guy made his first move on you when you were drunk.”
Lexie groaned. “How did I get into this mess?”
“Apparently, you’ve got the same affliction that I do—a taste for men who aren’t good for us. Watch out for him, hon, he’ll turn on you.”
“How do you know?”
“Who signs his paycheck? You or Daddy?”
Lexie dropped her head to the pillow. “My head hurts.”
“It’s the bourbon. Or maybe the rum.”
“I’m so drunk.”
Roxie doused the light. “Sleep it off. Things will be better in the morning.”
“Will they?”
“Probably not, but at least we’ll be on equal footing.” Roxie let out an evil chuckle. “That hideaway bed is a killer.”
Cam was awake when Lexie came rushing out of the bedroom. He didn’t sleep much as it was, but tonight? Yeah, not going to happen—especially with the support bar of the foldout bed hitting him square in the back. One look at her panicked face told him what was wrong. He pointed to the bathroom. “That way.”
Roxie was right behind her. “To your left.”
She darted off with her hand folded across her mouth. The door whipped shut behind her.
Cam sat up, his gaze slicing to the sister. She was dressed in a skimpy little nightie. She eyed him back, one eyebrow lifting. He’d stripped down to his skivvies. It was warm up on the third floor even with air conditioning. He’d done his best to get comfortable, but that bed wouldn’t let him sleep no matter what he was or wasn’t wearing.
Sounds from the bathroom distracted them both. They were miserable.
“This is your fault,” he said.
“My fault?” Roxie raked a hand through her hair and glanced worriedly to the bathroom. “You and that so-called family of hers are the ones who sent her my way.”
“She told you that?”
“Not in so many words, but I get what that billboard did.”
“Still think it’s fabulous?” Cam felt his back pop as he got out of bed. He winced and started towards the bathroom.
“Don’t you go near her.” Roxie hurried to plant herself between him and the door. “She’s mortified as it is. Give her a few minutes.”
Damn. As much as he didn’t want to agree with her, she was probably right. Lexie wouldn’t appreciate any help right now. She didn’t even like it when he pulled out her chair for her at meetings.
Because she didn’t trust him.
His jaw c
lenched. They were going to have to get past that little rub and soon.
Roxie eyed him carefully. “You don’t like me much, do you, Hatchet Man?”
“I sense the feeling’s mutual, Evil Twin.”
Her brow lifted. “I like the sound of that.”
She would.
“I don’t know you,” he said flatly. “And neither does she.”
God help her, Lexie didn’t have the self-preservation instincts of a bunny rabbit, except when it came to him. From what he could tell, she took arrows from the Underhills every day, and she’d fallen for this sister the moment they’d made contact.
He wasn’t as trusting. Put him solidly in the nurture camp.
He’d seen Roxie’s face as Lexie had checked out her apartment. She knew they’d led very different lives. He’d lay odds that she’d already calculated the value of Lexie’s fancy shoes and designer purse. Call him cynical, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to cash in on the game.
“You’re worried I’ll hurt her,” Roxie said bluntly.
“Not really, because I won’t let you.” He didn’t know anything about this woman, other than she was a dead ringer for the one who kept him up nights, but he knew her kind. She had not only the self-preservation instincts of a rabbit, she had the instincts of a tigress. She watched out for Roxie and nobody else. He could see it in the way she moved. He could hear it in the tone of her voice.
She wasn’t a woman to be messed with.
And he wasn’t a man who played games.
The toilet flushed, and there was the sound of the faucet running in the other room. Roxie wandered closer, resting her hand on the doorjamb. “There’s a new toothbrush in the top drawer and mouthwash underneath the sink.”
The only response she got was a groan.
Cam wrapped his fingers around the doorknob. “I’ll take care of her.”
Roxie scowled. “I’m not leaving her to you.”
“The couch is closer to the bathroom.”
“The bed is more comfortable.”
Cam caught the woman’s chin, surprising her. She was tough, but even strong women had their limits—and he did admire her strength. “You’ve had a hell of a day yourself. Just how bad is that headache?”
Lexie Page 7
