Cameron (Wild Men Book 7)

by Melissa Belle

  “Okay,” I say, my heart pounding as I say the word. “Let’s do it.”

  I’ll have time in the truck to get to know Cam better, and that’s something I can’t pass up. An airplane ride is a lot quicker and a lot more public. Just Cam and me in a truck alone for five hours? That’s something worth bending a rule for.

  “Cool. Text me your address and I’ll come get you.”

  I shove off the wall. “I will,” I call over my shoulder. “I’ll see you later. Thanks for the drinks!” I increase my pace and round the corner into the main room of the bar, and I don’t stop until I’ve breathlessly dropped my body into my seat across from Celie and Molly.

  Cameron Wild unravels me with just a look. And I’m about to go on a trip with him. If he ever kissed me…I swear, I may come completely undone.

  Chapter Ten

  I hurriedly plate the breakfast Molly cooked before she left for work. I sit down at the table and start in on my eggs and toast, shoveling down bites of food as fast as possible. When I’m finished, I go to my room to pack my bag. Then I stand in front of the mirror and take down my hair. I brush it carefully before looking at myself. I so rarely see myself with my hair loose I almost don’t recognize my own reflection. I quickly pull it back into a ponytail, wrapping the elastic around and around my hair until it’s good and tight. When I hear the doorbell, I jump up, grab my bag, and yell bye to my mother as I rush outside with my coat still in my hands.

  Cam’s standing on my front step. His dark winter cap and parka match his eyes which brighten when I step out. He immediately takes my arm as we walk down the steep steps to the driveway.

  “Aren’t you freezing?” he asks me.

  “Not really.” The thirty mile an hour winds and negative temperature would call me a liar, I’m sure, but the heat I soaked up inside the house will keep me warm for at least two more minutes.

  One of the many things I love about Cam is that he’s a gentleman. He opens the passenger door of his truck for me and ushers me inside.

  I jump in and struggle into my coat while Cam walks around to the driver’s side. I can smell him in his truck. I love feeling him near me, especially right before he’s actually sat down next to me.

  He opens the door and slides into the driver’s seat. Immediately, his eyes light on me like I’m the most important person in the world.

  “Hey, Savannah.”

  My smile feels like it takes over my face. “Hey.”

  He pulls off his hat, revealing his thick midnight hair that should be pictured next to the word “sinful” in the dictionary. Especially now. The hat has messed up his hair more than usual, and his efforts to tame it with his hand are all in vain. He gives up and turns the key in the ignition.

  Before we start backing out of the driveway, his phone rings. He glances at it and lets out a low curse. He quickly silences his phone without answering, but not before I see the name “Amy” flash across the screen.

  His eyes hook with mine.

  “So, how are things with Amy?” I say in what I hope is a casual tone.

  Keeping his gaze steady on mine, he says, “Amy and I are over. We have been since long before I even met you.”

  I suck in my breath. “I guess I thought...”

  “No,” he says firmly. “She still calls occasionally. I tell her to stop, but she’s having a hard time moving on and accepting it’s really over. We haven’t been together for over a year and a half.”

  I kick at the floorboard. “But you said you were together in high school. That sounds serious. Plus, people break up all the time and get back together. You two are probably no different.”

  “This is different, Savannah.” His voice is laced with…something, and his gaze flicks to my mouth. “I’m definitely not going back to her.”

  I look down at my lap. My coat is suddenly far too constricting. I want to tear it off my body. “Um…I’m not sure what to say.”

  “Amy and I haven’t lived in the same town since high school. It’s been six years.”

  The same amount of time since my father walked out.

  “That’s a long time,” I agree.

  “Too long. To be honest, our relationship got…messy. We would break up, she would date other guys and I’d go out with random girls…”

  I cringe.

  “We’d get back together, and then we’d break up again…it was a shitty cycle that I finally mercifully ended. So yes, we were high school sweethearts, and I loved her when we were kids. But it was a young love kind of thing. Deep down, I always knew it wouldn’t be forever.” He reaches over and surprises me when he drags a calloused finger down my cheek. “You ready to go?”

  A shiver goes through me that I try to contain. “Sure. Let’s go.”

  Cam backs out of the driveway slowly. The whole time we drive through my neighborhood, I sneak little peeks over at him.

  My face burns as I wonder if he can read my mind or my heart or between my thighs—all the parts of my body that are speaking to me right now.

  We’ve just left the Minneapolis outskirts when my phone buzzes with a text.

  What I see causes me to bite back a gasp.

  A photo of my father kissing the pregnant belly of an unidentified woman. Her face isn’t in the shot, and all I can see of Daddy is the back of his red hair. Hair that’s now graying. Yes, I knew he was having a new baby, but this photo just makes it all the more real.

  Courtesy of Uncle Fred. Celie’s text reads. Figured it was better you see this from me first. We’ll talk when you get back. Love you.

  “Everything okay?”

  I look up from my phone. Cam’s glancing at me.

  “Yeah,” I say in a strangled tone. “Everything’s fine.”

  We make good time on the highway. A few hours in, we stop to use the bathrooms.

  As we’re pulling into the rest area, Cam’s cell rings.

  “Shit. It’s my father,” he says before picking up. “Hi, Dad.”

  Mr. Wild’s voice is muffled as Cam opens the door and gets out, shutting it behind him.

  I watch him walk off into the picnic area until he eventually disappears around the corner of the rest area building. I follow in his general direction but veer off for the ladies room.

  After using the toilet, I step out of the stall and head for the long line of sinks. I wash my hands and glance in the mirror.

  God, I look exhausted. That text from Celie hit too close to home.

  The idea of my father starting over again with a brand-new family when he didn’t give his old one even a polite heads-up that he was leaving…I shake my head and bring my focus back to the problem at hand. Namely, the pale, washed-out face I see looking back at me in the mirror.

  I go digging through my purse until I find my blush, along with some old eyeliner, at the bottom of my bag. I don’t see an expiration date, so I figure why not, and I put it on, along with more lipstick. Maybe Cam will return to the truck and be so mesmerized by me that he’ll throw his phone to the floor, grab me around the waist with one hand, unzip my coat with the other, and…

  No. Not happening. This isn’t an erotic novel. It’s my life, the story of a good girl who isn’t about to go bad just because she’s never dared to before.

  I’ve been in the truck for a few minutes when Cam gets back into the driver’s side and turns the key in the ignition.

  “Sorry about that interruption,” he says without looking at me.

  “No worries.”

  “My dad’s just…he’s always disappointed in me.”

  I sure as hell know that feeling. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I just didn’t want you to think my bad mood was in any way directed at you. I’ll snap out of it soon.”

  “I appreciate you letting me know that,” I say softly. More than you know.

  My neck starts to itch underneath my black turtleneck sweater.

  I try not to make it obvious, but of course, Cam turns to look at me.
/>   “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “It must be a tag. It’s itching my neck.”

  He shifts to face me. “Here.” He reaches over and pulls the turtleneck away from my skin. “Let me see.”

  I hold my breath the entire time he’s looking at my skin, hoping I haven’t broken out into some repulsive rash or something.

  “I don’t see a tag.” His voice is steady, and his hands are soft and gentle as they brush my skin.

  This is the first time a man has touched me so intimately. And I’m frozen, certain that if I move I’ll do something I can’t take back…like grab Cam and press my lips to his.

  His fingers keep moving up and down my neck.

  “Savannah…” His tone is low with promise.

  Beeeep!

  I jump at the sound of a passing car’s loud horn.

  Cam clears his throat. He lets go of the turtleneck and pats my shoulder before putting his hands back on the wheel. “We should get going.”

  I let out the big breath I’ve been holding. “Right.”

  We hit some traffic and don’t reach Milwaukee until late afternoon, just as the sun is setting.

  The desk clerk gives us rooms across the hall from each other. We take the elevator together and then walk down the hall.

  “You want to get dinner in a bit?” Cam asks my back as I’m struggling to get my keycard in the slot.

  I turn around. “Sure. Just knock on my door.”

  “Cool.”

  We look at each other in silence until I break the moment by shifting back and successfully opening my door.

  “Bye.” I wave and then let the door close behind me.

  The room is just a typical chain hotel room, with a bed and one window overlooking the parking lot. I put down my bag and check my phone.

  Another text from Celie. Typical of my sister, this text is straight to the point—

  Ask Cam to make your New Year’s resolution come true!

  I laugh out loud. If Celie had only seen me when Cam did something as minimal as barely touch my neck, she wouldn’t be so quick to encourage. I acted like the shy, inexperienced woman I am.

  Cameron Wild is way out of my league. And I need to get Celie’s insistent cheerleading out of my head and remember that.

  I grab a change of clothes and my purse and head for the bathroom.

  I get dressed quickly and brush my teeth. Then I look in the mirror.

  My face is paler than usual, and my lips are chapped from the biting cold of a typical Minnesota winter. I go searching in my purse for some chapstick.

  Nothing.

  What falls out instead are the two old photographs I’d hurriedly stuffed into my bag the other day.

  I can’t help but look at the pictures. The first one is a snapshot of Daddy wearing his Climax Cannons ice hockey cap and windbreaker to match. As usual, Coach McMann’s got a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and me in his left arm as he stands with his free hand on his hip, staring pompously into the camera. I’ve heard the backstory a thousand times. I’m three years old in this picture, and Mama was at work. Daddy had just gotten the call for the Cannons’ coaching job a week before.

  He was sure it was his big break, his first chance at a new life since he was discharged from the Army and made his way with one odd job or another.

  And in a lot of ways, he was right.

  I take the picture and carefully rip it in half. I throw both pieces into the trashcan and methodically go to pick up the next picture.

  “Savannah?” Cam’s voice cuts through the silent hotel room, and I pull myself out of the past as I hear the light knock on the door.

  I leave the bathroom and walk closer to the door before calling out, “Cam, I just need a couple more minutes. Should I come by when I’m done?”

  “Sure. No rush,” he says.

  I let out my breath and then return to the bathroom where I pick up the second photograph. There I am, age thirteen, sitting proudly at the desk in my new office. It wasn’t exactly legal to hire a thirteen-year-old, but Daddy put Mama’s information instead of mine on the employee list.

  That’s how my career started. First I was the unofficial team mascot, and then I became the scorekeeper before being promoted as the coach’s office and on-ice assistant.

  I spent so much time at the ice rink because it was the only way to see my father. He worked nearly around the clock, especially at the beginning. His job as coach still wasn’t enough money to pay the bills, but he managed to get the owner to hire him on as their night janitor for the first few years. If I wanted his attention, I had to jump into my father’s world with both feet. And I did.

  I tear the picture into tiny pieces until all I’m holding is a little piece of my smile. All teeth and lips. I throw the jagged bits of photo into the garbage can.

  I glance in the mirror one last time and debate whether or not I should do the unexpected—okay, the absolutely-never thing—and wear my hair down.

  In a rush of adrenaline, I pull out the elastic band and shake my hair loose. It falls past my shoulders, and I use my brush to try to style it. My hair is thick and wavy, and I almost don’t recognize myself. I grab my keycard and purse and head across the hall.

  “Come on in,” Cam says as soon as he answers my knock.

  I follow him into his room, and the door automatically shuts behind me.

  “So there’s this restaurant nearby that the concierge says is pretty good,” he says, showing me the menu on his phone. “Do you like Italian food?”

  “Definitely.” I glance around his room. His suitcase is in the corner, still full of clothes.

  “I figured why unpack when I’m just going to wear the clothes anyway?” His gaze follows mine.

  “Then why have a dresser at home either?” I say in a teasing tone. “May as well just keep everything in the washing machine and take it out when you’re ready.”

  “No, because the clothes would be all wrinkled.” He grins. “But maybe you should do something with that idea.” He puts down his phone and looks at me fully. “Holy shit. Your hair…it’s usually…”

  “Up. Yes. I’m wearing it down tonight,” I say quickly. And that would have been fine if I had stopped there, but I don’t. “It’s just regular old hair. Hair I wear every day. To work. Where I see you.”

  Cam grins. “I was just going to say it looks good this way. I like it.”

  Jesus, Savannah. Shut up. “Thank you,” I manage to get out.

  We leave his room, take the elevator down to the lobby, and then we walk through the revolving doors to the sidewalk. The icy wind hits my cheeks as soon as we step outside. We hustle to Cam’s truck and hop inside.

  Cam leans across me to grab his wallet out of the glove compartment.

  And that’s when I smell him.

  His rich, woodsy, masculine scent.

  I’ve smelled Cam before. From the first time we met at the coffee shop, or whenever we get together after practice and he’s just showered. Right now, though, the manly scent is like an aphrodisiac to my sex-starved brain. His hair is damp from the shower, and that scent is downright intoxicating. I think it’s his aftershave. Whatever it is, it’s sexy as hell. I’m so aroused I can barely sit still.

  His arm brushes mine when he returns his hand to the steering wheel, and that’s the final straw. I reach over and grab his arm without thinking. I think I may murmur something incoherent.

  Cam snaps his head over to meet my gaze. “You okay?”

  All I can do is nod. I bite my lip and stare at him.

  He shifts closer, his eyes darkening. “Did you want something, sweetheart?”

  Before I can answer, my phone rings loudly between us.

  My gaze flicks to the screen.

  “It’s Craig,” I say.

  Cam lets out a deep breath and edges back from me as I answer the call.

  “The meeting is postponed,” Craig barks into the phone. “The organizer has a personal emergency. You guy
s already checked in?”

  “Um, yeah.” I mouth “cancelled” at Cam and he rolls his eyes.

  “Get your butts back here,” Craig demands. “Good thing you decided to drive instead of fly. We won’t have to fight the airlines for a refund. So I’ll see you both at practice tomorrow. I need you there, too, Savannah.”

  Of course he does. “Is the conference…going to be rescheduled?” I ask him.

  “Supposedly,” Craig says. “We’ll see—these people are so disorganized. Remember, butts back here now. No hanging out at that hotel, do you hear? And get a refund.”

  I scrunch up my eyebrows and groan.

  “That’s a great face,” Cam says. “Pretty much sums up how I feel every time I talk to that guy. What’d he say?”

  I repeat the conversation. “So we drove all this way for nothing.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. We got a little trip out of it, right?”

  I nod as the silly thought passes through my mind that I won’t be able to wear my new top for Cam.

  “Well,” I say. “I guess we should check out, grab some fast food, and then start driving.”

  Cam’s flipping through his phone. “It says snow is expected tonight. A change in the weather patterns.” He turns on the truck. “We’ll grab some food and then try to beat the storm.”

  Chapter Eleven

  We don’t beat the storm.

  In fact, we get caught right in the middle of it.

  Snow is swirling everywhere. In near white-out conditions, Cam and I do what we’re supposed to do—we stop for the night.

  “Look where we are.” He points at the exit sign, but the snow obscures the letters.

  “Love?” I say as I try to read it.

  “Lake,” he says. “Lovelake. The town I’ve been bugging you about. That’s kind of weird, right? I think we should stay here tonight, and once the storm’s over, we’ll go into town tomorrow and look around.”

  I whip my head over to face him, but he’s concentrating on driving through this crazy storm, and he can’t meet my gaze.