Changing the Rules

by Erin Kern

  And, really, it was her own fault. As much as she’d like to blame Cameron, Audrey knew she shouldered some of the responsibility. The man was who he was, and she couldn’t change him. No amount of wishing and daydreaming could mold him into the man she wanted him to be.

  On the other hand, the scene she’d walked into…that woman’s lips on Cameron’s neck. His hands gripping her shoulders. Audrey had been hit with a blinding white numbness she’d never felt. She’d been unable to do anything other than stand there and watch, because she’d been unable to identify the foreign feeling coursing through her system. Then she’d stubbed her toe on the edge of the door as she’d been trying to back out, and the gig had been up.

  Cameron had been able to see every emotion swirling through her eyes. She’d wanted to smack herself for being so predictable, for thinking that slinking over there at eleven o’clock at night had been a good idea. For thinking that he’d welcome her with another one of his soul-searing kisses and drag her to bed. And it figures that the one time she’d conjured some boldness with a man, it would come back to bite her in the ass.

  And why would he want her anyway? The woman who’d been draped all over him and sucking on his neck was the opposite of Audrey. Tall, elegant. Gorgeous. Polished. Not that Audrey was a slouch. She knew she was attractive and maybe even beautiful if she made enough effort. But that woman…with her size C’s and slim legs. She was the type of woman Cameron belonged with.

  Audrey poured herself another hefty glass and smiled to herself when the tremble had lessened.

  Behind her, the door to the guesthouse opened, letting in the cool midnight air. The moon was absent tonight, leaving the backyard an inky mass so Audrey hadn’t seen him come. But she’d known he’d eventually show up.

  Audrey lifted the wineglass to her lips. “Go away, Cameron.” She downed another healthy sip, just so she’d have something to occupy herself.

  He approached, but didn’t say anything. Audrey didn’t turn around, couldn’t face him and show just how much he’d hurt her.

  “Audrey,” he said in a low voice.

  She ignored him and continued to sip her wine.

  “That wasn’t what it looked like,” he told her.

  It’s not me, it’s you. Your check is in the mail. Yeah, she’d heard them all.

  “I was trying to get her to leave,” he went on.

  A laugh popped out of her. “Yeah. Looked like it.”

  He sighed and reached around her to pluck the wineglass from her hands. She almost turned to demand to know what the hell he thought he was doing, but found she didn’t have the strength. She was tired, defeated, and confused.

  Audrey bit her lip as Cameron set the glass down, then wrapped both hands around her shoulders and turned her to face him. But the second she clapped eyes with his, she remembered how he’d held that other woman the same way, and she shrugged out of his hold. He immediately dropped his arms and held his hands up in defeat.

  “Okay,” he said. “I get it.”

  “I don’t think you do,” she whispered.

  “So why don’t you tell me?” he suggested.

  She laughed, even though it was far from funny. “You want me to explain to you why I’m upset over what I just walked in on?”

  Cameron nodded. “Okay, dumb question.” He gazed at her for a moment. Then he tilted his head as though a thought had just occurred to him. “On second thought, explain.”

  Audrey resisted the urge to smash the bottle of wine over his head. “You want me to explain?”

  “Yeah,” he said without hesitation.

  She jabbed a finger at herself. “I’m supposed to explain when you’re the one who—”

  “I’m the one who what?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Why were you sneaking into my house at eleven o’clock at night?”

  She opened her mouth to answer, then shut it. They both knew why, and they both knew she had no defense. But how had he managed to turn the discussion around on her?

  “What if I told you that was exactly what it looked like?” Cameron countered.

  “You just told me it wasn’t,” she argued.

  He stepped closer. “But what if it was?”

  She shook her head and laughed at herself for what an idiot she was. She snagged the wineglass off the counter and tossed back another sip.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she told him.

  He came up behind her so she could feel the heat of his chest against her back. “I think it matters to you.”

  Her eyes dropped closed, and instantly her mind replayed the scene again. Audrey sliding the glass door open, stepping foot inside Cameron’s dark house. Feeling the nerves skitter through her system at the thought of what she was about to do. Then the blood in her veins turning to ice when she caught sight of Cameron and the woman. The dinner churning in Audrey’s stomach at the intimate scene before her, and wondering how she could have been so horribly wrong.

  She whirled on him. “Okay, you know what? Yeah, it matters,” she spat out. “It matters when you’re about to be the only person in Piper’s life and your house is a revolving door of women. It matters when you kiss me like you did tonight, then three hours later you’ve got some other chick climbing all over you.” She jabbed him in the chest. “It matters when that’s the worst way possible for me to find out how wrong I was about you.”

  Audrey hadn’t realized how hard her heart was pounding or how close to tears she was when Cameron wrapped his hand around her finger and drew it away from his chest.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

  She blinked, because it was the last thing she expected him to say. She’d grown so used to his taunts and firing questions at her just to throw her off.

  “Tessa is a woman I used to be involved with,” he admitted.

  Even though Audrey had figured as much, hearing the words from his mouth still created a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  “She just showed up tonight, and I was trying to explain to her that she can’t do that,” he went on.

  Audrey ordered her breathing to slow down so she could hear him out.

  “I ended things with her, Audrey.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me you had a girlfriend?” And what were you doing kissing me?

  One of his brows arched. “She wasn’t really my girlfriend.”

  Oh.

  “I just explained to her that we needed to go our separate ways,” he explained. “She didn’t want to take no for an answer. That’s when you walked in.”

  “So then why didn’t you tell me that you have other women you’re involved with?” she pushed. “Why make me feel like I was it for you?”

  He gripped her shoulders again, and this time she let him. Maybe it was the tightness of his fingers around her arm, but she felt like he needed her to listen. “Because I haven’t been involved with anyone else since you moved in here. The thing with Tessa was just casual and not even exclusive.” His hold on her tightened. “And you are it for me, Audrey.”

  She blinked and tried to process his words, but they were foreign to her. She’d never been it for anyone before. “What d’you mean?”

  “I mean…” He shook his head and cursed. “I mean I don’t want there to be anyone else. Casual or otherwise.”

  Was she supposed to take that to mean that he wanted…something with her? But what? A fling until she went home? Was he going to ask her to stay in Blanco Valley so they could have something more permanent? Part of Audrey shivered at the thought that a man could want her that much. That Cameron could want her that much. The other part…was terrified that she wouldn’t know how to answer him, that she’d allow her fear to cloud her opportunity to be happy.

  “What are you saying, Cameron?”

  “I’m saying…” He scrubbed a hand over his head. “I don’t know what the hell I’m saying. Just that maybe…” He cleared his throat. “Maybe you don’t have to rush home after the football season is over.”r />
  “I’ve already stayed too long,” she pointed out.

  “I’m sure you have,” he agreed.

  “And I need to get back to my business.”

  “Also agreed,” he said with a nod.

  Audrey chewed her lower lip. “And you don’t really need me anymore. Piper’s settled in here, and you’ve picked up the hang of things. It makes sense for me to go back.”

  “Right. Except it doesn’t make sense.”

  Audrey shook her head. “I’m going to need you to be a little clearer, Cameron.”

  “How can it make sense for you to leave, when your being here makes more sense?”

  It was so close to what she wanted, and needed, to hear from him, yet Audrey couldn’t help the frisson of unease that snaked through her system.

  “Because of Piper?” she pressed.

  He cleared his throat again, which she’d learned was a nervous habit. “Yeah, and—”

  “Audrey?”

  The little voice coming from the darkness behind her put a stop to whatever Cameron was about to say. For the first time, Audrey wished she didn’t have a six-year-old depending on her. As selfish as that sounded, she needed another minute to sort out whatever this was with Cameron, because as soon as Cameron locked gazes with Piper, she knew the moment was over. Who knew if she’d get it back?

  What had he been about to say?

  She turned and pasted a smile on her face for Dianna’s daughter. “Yeah, sweetie?”

  “I had a bad dream.” Piper clung to the doorframe of her room, her curls a wild mess around her face. “And I have to go to the bathroom.”

  “Okay.” She turned back, but Cameron was gone. He’d slipped out as silently as he’d slipped in, leaving her to wonder if the door had been shut completely.

  Seventeen

  Audrey found herself looking forward to Sunday dinner with Cameron’s mom, Pamela. Not only was the woman a breath of fresh air who wasn’t afraid to give her son a hard time, but also her presence gave Audrey a reprieve. Ever since their strange talk the night before, Audrey found she didn’t know what to say around Cameron or how to act around him. She felt like a high schooler who’d just admitted she had a crush on a boy.

  To make matters worse, Cameron had spent the better part of the afternoon giving her lingering looks and teasing the panties off her. Figuratively, of course.

  Since Pamela had cooked the last time, Audrey had insisted on making the dinner. Cameron looked like he’d been about to have a heart attack when Audrey announced she was going to make pot roast with potatoes and carrots. Their bickering about how to cook had started that morning when Cameron insisted the roast would be better in the oven so it could be basted in a Dutch oven. Since Audrey didn’t even know what the hell a Dutch oven was, and scolded her hormones for jumping all over the place, she’d placed the meal in a Crock-Pot. The vein in Cameron’s forehead looked like it had been about to burst when she’d refused to let him “check” on the meal. And by “check” she knew he meant take over because he didn’t trust anyone else in the kitchen.

  “You should probably check those vegetables,” he told her as he began the preparations for the gravy.

  The only reason she was allowing him to help was because he’d insisted. She hadn’t been able to stop him from clattering a skillet on the stove and making the stuff.

  “The vegetables are fine,” she reassured him, but gave the Crock-Pot a peek just in case. Yeah, they still looked good.

  “How long has it been since you’ve basted the roast?” he asked her.

  “Cameron, will you leave the woman alone?” Pamela scolded her son. “I’m sure she’s capable of cooking her own meal without your interference.”

  Audrey resisted the urge to stick her tongue out and swore she heard him mutter, “Not happening” under his breath.

  “That gravy doesn’t look like it’s thick enough,” she told Cameron.

  Pamela hid a smile behind her wineglass.

  Cameron lifted a brow. “It’ll be plenty thick. You’re not supposed to add the flour all at once.”

  “And you haven’t put enough drippings in it,” she pressed, because…well, because she wanted to.

  Cameron set his spoon down and turned to face Audrey. Behind them, Pamela muttered, “Uh-oh.”

  “You want to come over here so I can show you how it’s done right?”

  Audrey opened her mouth, then had the feeling he wasn’t talking about gravy. His question had too much of a seductive tone. For a second she thought about taking him up on his offer, but with an audience, she knew it would be a bad idea. She didn’t want to give Pamela the wrong impression about their relationship. She didn’t want to give her false hope.

  Or maybe you’re more worried about giving yourself false hope?

  No, that definitely wasn’t it.

  She gestured toward the gravy. “Just make sure it has plenty of flavor. I like my gravy meaty.”

  Cameron lifted a brow as though to say, Thought so.

  “I see you finally patched up the curtains, Cam,” his mother said.

  Cameron tossed another spoonful of flour into the gravy. “Actually, Audrey fixed those,” he said casually, as though she had the right to go around mending his things.

  “How nice,” Pamela beamed. “And I’m assuming you sewed up the pillows too?”

  The throw pillows on Cameron’s couch had been coming apart at the seams. The only reason why Audrey had fixed them was because she got tired of hearing him complain about constantly having to restuff them.

  Yeah, that’s why.

  “Just trying to show my gratitude for Cameron letting us stay here.”

  Cameron snorted and muttered, “Bullshit” under his breath.

  Pamela nodded, but Audrey had the feeling she didn’t buy Audrey’s lame reason. Hell, Audrey didn’t buy it either.

  “And are you also responsible for the ceiling fans suddenly being dust free?” Pamela prodded.

  Okay, Audrey had spent a day over here doing some housework. So sue her. Piper had been at school, and Audrey had had a few hours to herself. So she’d let herself in the back door, sewn the tear in the curtains, patched the throw pillows, and dusted the fans. She’d also vacuumed, mopped, and polished the furniture. Cameron may have been wicked in the kitchen, but he was a lousy housekeeper. Audrey hadn’t minded; tidying up Cameron’s house had felt so domestic.

  “Yeah, that was me,” she finally answered. When both of Pamela’s brows lifted, Audrey rushed to explain more. “I was just giving the place some TLC. No big deal.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Audrey saw Cameron slant her a look, but she refused to glance his way. She didn’t want him to see how important it had been for her to show her gratitude even though she’d still been pissed at him.

  “Well, I think the place looks good,” Pamela commented instead of calling Audrey out on her bullshit. “Who knows what Cam will do without you when you leave.”

  Audrey paused with her water bottle halfway to her mouth. She forced herself to drink just as Cameron cleared his throat while he stirred the gravy. Yeah, he wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what to say, or how to look, or how to act.

  The impulsive side of her wanted to stroke a hand over his shoulder and reassure him that he didn’t need to be tense around her, that he hadn’t screwed anything up, that she wanted to finish their conversation and maybe explore things further. But she didn’t want to scare him off, so she decided to wait a few more days.

  “By the way, you’re out of soda,” Pamela announced. “Do you have a grocery list I can add it to?”

  “There’s a pad of paper in the drawer,” Audrey jumped in. She barely resisted slapping a hand over her mouth as Pamela stared at her and Cameron smirked. Funny how she’d come to know Cameron’s house so easily, how she moved from one room to the next, picking up his shoes and placing them by the front door so he wouldn’t forget them, making sure the newspaper got brought in before it
rained, because she knew he liked to read it at the kitchen counter.

  When had they fallen into such a comfortable routine?

  “Okay,” Pamela said slowly. “Thanks.” But when she opened the drawer, her actions froze. “Um, Cameron?” she said, and she reached a hand in the drawer and pulled out about a dozen yellow Post-it notes. Every single note Audrey and Cameron had left for each other over the past two months. “Are you planning on doing some scrapbooking?”

  Audrey damn near spit out her water and just barely managed to get the stuff down. She noticed Cameron only offered his mom a quick glance, then went back to his gravy. He probably thought he could shrug off the fact that he’d saved every Post-it she’d written him, but the way his hand tightened around the spoon gave him away.

  He hadn’t wanted anyone to find those. But if not, why had he placed them in a drawer that he knew she sometimes opened?

  “Audrey insists on leaving me notes everywhere,” he explained, though it wasn’t much of an explanation.

  Pamela dropped the notes and continued her search for the pad of paper. “Yes, but why have you saved all of them?”

  The kitchen was silent for a moment, with Audrey staring into her bottle of water and Cameron stirring the gravy to a slow death. Pamela bounced a look between Audrey and Cam, slowly picking up on…whatever the hell was going on in here.

  She shut the drawer. “I think I’ll go outside and check on Piper.”

  Pamela slipped out the back door, leaving the two of them alone.

  “I think the gravy needs more flour,” Audrey said in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

  “Don’t start,” Cameron warned.

  Audrey bit back a grin when she saw him toss a pinch of flour into the pan. She silently sipped her water for a moment while listening to Piper squeal in the backyard. “So, are we going to talk about it?” she pressed.

  Heat bloomed across her stomach when Cameron grinned. “You mean the fact that I saved every note you’ve ever written?”

  She pointed at him. “Yeah, that.”

  “I only did that because I knew people wouldn’t believe me when I tell them you only communicate via Post-its.”