A Killing Kind of Love: A Dark, Standalone Romantic Suspense

by EC Sheedy

  He shrugged, untroubled. “I made a mistake.”

  “You married your ‘mistake,’ Adam, a week after Kylie was born. Holly was barely home from the hospital.”

  “Another mistake. Which doesn’t mean I don’t love my daughter.”

  “You love—” She stared at him, speechless, all the breath leaving her lungs in one stunning exhalation. Damned if he didn’t look as if he believed himself. When she could inhale again, her chest came alive with anger. “You don’t love anyone but yourself, Adam. You never have. If you’ve come back for Kylie, it isn’t out of love. But whatever the reason, you’ll fail. You can count on it.” She dropped her arms to her sides, faced him openly, and spoke very, very clearly. “Kylie is mine now. Holly wanted me to care for her, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “I admit I was surprised Holly hadn’t changed guardianship. I thought for sure I’d be taking on rich old Grandpa. Jesus, Grantman must have shit himself.” He looked amused. “Turns out it’s just as well. From what I’ve learned, it’s pretty doubtful that guardianship thing will stand if a biological parent comes forward—full of remorse for his past mistakes and brimming with love for his lost child.” He paused. “Like I said. I want what’s mine.”

  Camryn wouldn’t let him see her fear, wouldn’t let him see her sweat. “It’s never going to happen, Adam.” And I’ll take Kylie and run before I let you have her. “Holly did what she thought was best for Kylie. If you were any kind of man, you’d do the same. Which means going back to whoever’s bed you crawled out of, and leaving things as they are.” Too late, she realized that bed she was referring to might be Gina’s.

  “That’s one plan.” His smile deepened as if at some private amusement. “Or you could marry me, and we’ll raise the kid together. That’d sure as hell set Paul’s teeth on edge.” Before she could stop him, he touched her hair, his eyes narrowing. “Hell of an idea, actually. That way I could crawl into your bed—get the honeymoon started.”

  She blinked at the sudden turn in the conversation. “You really are crazy.”

  “You going to give me the ‘if you were the last man on earth’ speech, Cammie?” He bent his head, met her eyes. “Because you and I both know that’s not true. You know how happy I can make you when I set my mind—and hands—to it.”

  Her stomach rolled into a hard, tight snarl. “Get the hell—”

  The crunch of gravel made them both look up. Camryn looked around the corner of the garage toward the front of the house. There was enough view for her see a black Navigator pulled up close to her front stairs.

  Adam followed her gaze. “Who is it?”

  “Dan Lambert.” She looked back at Adam, gave him a blank gaze. “Care for an introduction?”

  The sound of her awful door buzzer poured out the open kitchen window.

  “I’ll take a pass on that,” he said.

  “I figured you would.” She stepped up to him, put her face inches from his, and met his eyes. “Go away, Adam.” She lowered her voice to a quiet and urgent tone. “If you’ve got a decent bone in your body, you’ll leave Kylie alone, and you’ll leave Gina alone. She’s fragile right now. She can’t handle . . . you. You have nothing to offer either Kylie or Gina.”

  “You might want to check with Gina on that ‘nothing to offer’ idea of yours,” he said, and before she could stop him, he took her face between his hands and kissed her hard, moving his mouth over hers as if it belonged there. Then, holding her, their faces so close she could smell his clean, mint-scented breath, see the heat in his eyes, he whispered, “You still taste good, Cammie—exactly like I remember.”

  Breathless, she jerked from his grasp. “Get the hell out of here. And don’t come back.”

  He touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “I’ll be in touch—or rather my lawyer will.” He paused, and his expression darkened. “I’m going to claim my daughter, and it’ll take a lot more than a paltry hundred grand to change that.” With that he stepped behind the other side of the garage and disappeared into the trees and tangled brush on the vacant property next door.

  Camryn put her fingers to her mouth, then the back of her hand, determined to rub the sense of him from her lips, the scent of him from her nose.

  Dear God, he’s come back to claim Kylie.

  And he was at Gina’s . . . And Gina, who’d sworn she’d never see or speak to Adam Dunn again, was helping him.

  Under her disappointment, her fear of what might happen now that Adam was back, she felt betrayed, and stupid that she’d been so incredibly naive in underestimating his attraction.

  Camryn turned to face the calm waters of the lake. Her mind and her heart in turmoil, she tried to sort things through. But, God. First Holly, having an affair with him, and now Gina.

  It didn’t make sense.

  Gina, whom Adam had humiliated in high school, used in college, and walked out on without a word. Adam was always Holly’s bad-boy lover—the boy/man she’d used as a freedom ticket to get away from Paul’s control, but when it came to dealing with him, she always gave as good as she got. In many ways they were a matched set, both rash, both self-centered. When Adam walked out on her and Kylie, Holly made certain to protect Kylie’s interests. Holly was a fool for love, a thrill-seeker, and she’d chosen to play too close to Adam’s flame, but she knew how to take care of herself.

  Not so Gina. For her, Adam was a sexual toxin. When Gina first got involved with him, she’d given new meaning to the word doormat. She’d said so herself, when she came to her senses—right after Adam slept with Delores. Camryn shuddered. As low points went, the Gina-Delores episode was Adam’s personal best. That was during their third year of college, and to Camryn’s knowledge, Gina hadn’t seen him since.

  She couldn’t imagine Gina taking him in, but, then, she couldn’t imagine Holly having an affair with him, either. Delores was right: Camryn had been living under a damn cabbage.

  But cabbage or not, she knew this was the worst possible time for Adam to come back into Gina’s life.

  How could she protect her friend—from herself? From Adam? All Camryn had were words and warnings, while Adam had . . . whatever it was he had that made bubbling oatmeal of women’s brains.

  “Did I interrupt? A kissing cousin, perhaps?”

  She looked up to see Dan Lambert standing on her lakeside porch. Obviously, he’d been there a while, watching her. “No. Nothing. No one.” She tried to switch her head from concern about Gina, to what, if anything, to tell him about Adam. She was also trying to figure out why she was glad he’d shown up when he did—and what those wings fluttering in her stomach meant. She headed toward him.

  You like him, Camryn. It’s that simple—and that complex.

  Casually dressed in gray slacks and a black shirt, he was leaning against the post at the top of the stairs. His arms were crossed, and while he looked strong and resourceful, she felt limp and ineffectual, still shell-shocked by Adam’s reentry into Gina’s life—and hers. Looking at Dan Lambert, the strength and honesty of him, she was baffled all over again at why Holly would risk a man like this for Adam.

  “That was Dunn, wasn’t it?” he said, when she’d taken the three stairs that brought her to his side.

  Her reaction to his words was to step away, get some think time, but he stopped her. Wrapping a hand around her upper arm and fixing his gaze on her lips, he smoothed the corner of her mouth with his thumb. “You need a touch-up.”

  “Let me go.”

  He didn’t. “When you answer my question.” His grip was unyielding.

  “Yes. It was Adam Dunn.” She couldn’t think of one good reason not to tell him. He was going to find out soon enough. She might as well share her misery—her fear. When he released his grip, she pulled a tissue from her jacket pocket and wiped off what was left of her lipstick.

  “Would I be off-base if I said you were pretty damn cozy with a guy who quite possibly murdered my wife—your best friend?”

  “
Adam didn’t kill anyone.”

  “And you know that on the basis of one lip lock?” He shook his head, his disgust obvious.

  She wouldn’t dignify that remark with an answer, nor did she feel compelled to defend herself. Let him think whatever he wanted to think. “But, you’re right—he’s staying at Gina’s.”

  “Really? It seems our friend Dunn gets around.” His tone was dry.

  Camryn couldn’t deny that. “He’s no one’s friend.” She turned, leaned her backside against the rail, and looked at him. “And he wants Kylie.” And I think he’s working on Gina to help him. She kept the last to herself, would until she knew for sure.

  He cocked his head and looked down at her, looking puzzled. “Kylie? What’s he got to do with Kylie?”

  Oh my God. He doesn’t know.

  Camryn’s nerves jumped, her throat closed, and then anger flared. For the briefest of moments she thought that if Holly were alive, she’d kill her herself. What she’d done to Dan and Kylie, with her lies, secrets, and infidelity made Camryn’s stomach turn. It was as if she’d never truly known her friend, as if Adam’s souring presence in their lives had made them strangers. She remembered Adam’s words, “never really lost touch.” Camryn hadn’t seen, or had refused to see, the extent of Holly’s obsession with Adam; she never had let go of him. Like addicts everywhere, she’d simply taken her obsession into the shadows.

  “Are you going to tell me what the hell that bastard has to do with Kylie, or do I go over to your friend’s house and find out for myself?” Lambert glared down at her.

  “I’m sorry.” She paused, gathered some composure, feeling much like a doctor or police officer who had to report a death in the family. “I assumed you knew. Adam Dunn is Kylie’s biological father.”

  Chapter 15

  When Camryn’s words registered, it took only seconds before Dan processed and accepted them. Somehow it made sense of things. His wife’s lover was Kylie’s biological father. He wouldn’t have guessed, but maybe he should have.

  His gaze caught and followed a powerboat skimming the lake waters and leaving a silver-white wake; he watched it until his breathing eased. For a time he didn’t speak, just let the last few months of anger, confusion, and downright misery roll over him.

  He’d come by Camryn’s house to visit his daughter and spend time with Camryn, work at getting her to trust him. Instead he was kicked back to his doomed marriage, his first serious attempt at building a relationship. A goddamn fiasco, if ever there was one. The only good thing to come out of it was Kylie.

  Camryn, standing beside him, chewed on her lower lip for a moment, then said again, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been the one to tell you.” She appeared to study him. “You don’t look surprised.”

  “In the last few months, I’ve been nothing but surprised. I guess by now the expression has a look of permanency.” He took his eyes from the lake and looked down at her. Her shoulder-length brown hair, catching the breeze, ruffled around her face. In the daylight her hair was shot with dark gold. He hadn’t noticed that before. “I asked her once about Kylie’s father. She said he was the biggest mistake of her life, and he was out of it. For good. She said there was no need to tell me anything about him, because he’d never be a part of Kylie’s life. She’d made sure of that, she said.” He shrugged. “That was it. She didn’t want to say more, so I didn’t push it.”

  “Didn’t want to know, maybe?”

  “Maybe.”

  A sad half-smile played briefly over Camryn’s mouth. “Strange …”

  He raised a brow, waited.

  “Holly pulled out all the stops to keep Adam out of Kylie’s life, but she couldn’t keep him out of hers.”

  “Explain.”

  She pulled her jacket closed and crossed her arms. “After Kylie was born, Holly went to her father—something she rarely did—and asked him to ensure Adam stayed out of the picture. Paul was more than happy to oblige.” There was that half-smile again. “You think he didn’t like you? He despised Adam. He was ecstatic that Holly had, as he said, ‘come to her senses.’ Adam’s parental rights were terminated based on ‘abandonment and parental disinterest.’ “She frowned slightly. “I think those are the right words. Paul wrote a fat check to make sure Adam didn’t fight it. He didn’t. He took the money and headed off into the sunset—with another woman. Paul was happy enough to write the check. He said it ‘spoke to character,’ and if the ‘bastard’—his words—ever came back, that cancelled check would come in real handy.”

  “He was probably right.” Dan moved to the rail, looked across the lake, leaving his back to her. “But you say he’s come back—for Kylie.”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “Why would he do that?” Dan turned to face her. “After all this time?”

  She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, looked uncomfortable—or angry. He couldn’t tell. The wind had kicked up and was sending a chill. She hugged herself. “Money.”

  “He wants his kid so he can make a profit off her?” Something in Dan’s stomach curdled even as he thought it was a damn good thing all it would take was cash to get rid of Dunn. “And Grantman would go for that.” He didn’t phrase it as a question.

  “He’d pay what he had to—for Erin.”

  “Jesus.” As “low” went, Dan didn’t know who the hell was worse, Grantman for trying to buy Kylie for his wife, or Dunn for selling her. But as a motive for murder, Dunn’s scummy plans might interest the Boston Police Department—more so considering Holly had kissed the guy off days before she was shot. He’d let the police know about it while he did some digging of his own. When he was finished, he’d know the label in Dunn’s briefs.

  Dan cocked a brow. “Has it occurred to you that you’re in the middle of all this? That you’re Dunn’s latest obstacle—one he didn’t expect?”

  “Don’t worry. I can handle Adam.” She shot him a calm glance.

  He studied the serious face of the woman standing beside him, impressed by her confidence but feeling edgy, afraid she wasn’t taking Dunn seriously enough.

  I don’t want her hurt.

  The thought, coming hard and fast, made his gut tight and his head feel as if it had been invaded by aliens. What the hell? And he thought he’d been so goddamn smart: get close, get closer… He’d thought it was all about Kylie, keeping his daughter. When the hell had it changed? When had it become about this steady, brown-haired woman standing next to him, a woman who looked as if she’d have no problem repelling an assault from an armored tank—but who might also have done a little underestimating of her own. “You sure of that?” he finally asked.

  “Adam’s a fool—an arrogant fool. A Peter Pan. He’s never been able to see anything through in his whole faithless life. I don’t think his wanting Kylie will be any different. It’s a whim. The chance of the moment. With a few delays, some waiting days, and no instant gratification, he’ll get bored, or some other ‘chance’ will show up in a tight skirt and stilettos. When it does, he’ll move on as if nothing happened. As if Kylie hadn’t happened.” Her mouth tensed. “He’s a man with no staying power except in—” She stopped, reddened.

  Dan got her drift. Didn’t like it, and sure as hell didn’t want to think about it.

  When he said nothing, she lifted her chin, added, “I know what you’re thinking—”

  “I doubt that.” Hell, he didn’t know himself.

  She chewed her lower lip a couple of times, then said, “Adam and I have a history. A very ancient history.”

  “Your business.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “And that kiss?”

  “His idea. Not mine.” She rubbed her hand across her mouth.

  He decided the smart thing was to get back to the matter at hand. “So you propose to handle him by ignoring him.”

  She shook her head, looked at him with determined, very sharp eyes. “No, what I intend to do is make things complicated, difficult, and confrontati
onal. Adam doesn’t do any of those very well.”

  “Sounds risky.” And with no guarantee. “A lot of time has passed. He may have changed.”

  “He hasn’t changed.” She spoke with certainty, again shaking her head. “Men like Adam never change.”

  Dan didn’t have her sense of conviction, and, more than that, he hated the idea of Camryn playing games with Dunn, putting herself at risk. Didn’t like it at all. “What makes you so sure?”

  “He proposed to me.”

  Dan’s brain darkened, and he pushed away from the railing he’d been leaning against. “Say again?”

  “He asked me to marry him, suggested we raise Kylie together.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “So was he—even if he didn’t know it. If I’d said yes, he’d be in my bed—house—right now.”

  “Not a guy to miss the main chance, right?”

  She gave him a clear-eyed, knowing look, and a firsthand view of the fierce intelligence and piercing intuition Holly had told him about. “Yes. Awful, isn’t it?” she said, half smiling. “But, then, people stoop to anything to get what they want. Seduction. Sex. Even marriage. Whatever it takes.” She paused. “I should know.” The last she said more to herself than to him.

  “Why am I sensing a subtext here?”

  She kept her gaze fixed on him. “I’m not a fool, Dan. And subterfuge isn’t your strong point—which I might add is a point in your favor. I’ve already figured out that the ‘shortest distance between two points’ you mentioned on the plane means you getting Kylie through me.”

  Before he could answer—not that he had one—she headed for the door.

  “I’ve got to go,” she said, as if she hadn’t just nailed his intentions to the nearest brick wall. “I’ve got work to do before Kylie and I leave for the recreation center. So if you want to visit with her, now’s the time.” When she was at the door, she turned back, gave him a speculative gaze. “Actually, you and I—and Kylie—as a team against the Grantman fortune isn’t such a bad idea. But I’ve already married once for the wrong reasons. I don’t intend to do it again.”