He smiled. “I like that. Ambition is a good thing. I’ll leave you to it,” he said and walked away.
Ambition or loneliness? Either way, I would take the compliment and made a mental note to try to be a little early every day in order to impress my new boss. If I didn’t have a man or family to focus on, I could pour all my energy and time into my job and hopefully get on the fast track to producing music.
That was my goal; pursuing a man was not.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Cameron
I stretched my arms and hit the wall. I was not used to such a small bed. My mom had put a full-size bed in her office space to accommodate me, which I greatly appreciated, but I wasn’t a small man. I felt like a giant sleeping in a shoe box.
I rolled out of bed, ignoring the morning wood that had sprung to life. It was way too common now. Every morning, my first thought was of Savannah. That led to thoughts of me and her in bed together and my dick stirred to life.
“Not going to happen,” I muttered.
I headed for the shower, tempted to rub one out, but the thought of being in my parents’ house was enough to make me go soft. That was way too much like being fifteen and horny as hell all the damn time. I finished showering and ambled into the dining room that opened into the kitchen.
Lily was at the table finishing her breakfast when I emerged. My mother was at the stove making eggs.
“Your breakfast is almost done,” she said in a cheery voice.
I didn’t want breakfast. Or more specifically, I didn’t want my mom making me breakfast in her housecoat like she’d done for eighteen years. I hated feeling like I had been tossed back in time and relied on my mommy to take care of me.
Instead of disappointing her, I sat at the table next to Lily and waited like a good boy for my eggs to be served. My mom delivered two plates and sat down with us at the table. I knew she enjoyed having us stay with them. She liked the idea of taking care of a family again; she had told me on several occasions. I had a feeling she would get tired of it soon enough. I’d been out of the house a long time, and I knew she and my dad had their own routine.
“Thank you for breakfast, Mom. I do appreciate it, but you don’t have to go out of your way for me. I don’t usually eat breakfast.”
“Well, you need a morning meal. It gives you energy for the day.” Once again, I was transported back in time to when I was sixteen and trying to rush off to school without breakfast.
“I know, I know,” I mumbled.
“I ate all my breakfast, Grandma!” Lily announced with pride.
“Good girl! At least one of you listens,” my mother muttered as she headed for the kitchen.
“Are you ready to go?” I asked the little traitor.
She eagerly nodded her head. “Yep!”
“I’ll see you later, Mom. I’m going to meet with the insurance company and run a few errands.”
She gave me a quick hug and planted a big smacking kiss on Lily’s cheek.
Once I got Lily dropped off, I headed to the station. I was off work for the day, but I wanted to check in on the status of those DNA results. I knew the guys were sick of seeing me and I was bordering on being a real nuisance, but I had to know.
My phone rang as I climbed the stairs to the second floor. It was the investigator working my case.
“I’ll be there in two seconds,” I said and hung up before jogging the rest of the way to the office.
“How did I know you would show up here?” he said with a grim look on his face when I pushed through his office door without knocking.
“What’d you find?” I asked, not interested in hearing anything else.
“Not a lot, unfortunately. The DNA traces back to a guy in the system.”
“That’s great news! Who?” I practically shouted, anxious to get the evidence I needed to put Asher in prison for a long time.
“Take a breath, Cam. His name is Jerry Smith. The name ring any bells?”
I shook my head. That couldn’t be right. It was Asher. I knew it was Asher who had started the fire. Maybe Asher was using a fake name. My mind raced with the various possibilities that would put Asher on the scene. He could have been living a double life. Savannah knew him as Asher, but his real name was Jerry Smith. That had to be it.
“You’re sure?” I asked, not quite ready to wrap my mind around the name.
The investigator held up a piece of paper. “DNA doesn’t lie.”
“Who is he?” I asked, my thoughts jumbled.
The guy shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought you would know. Here’s his mug shot,” he said, holding up a picture.
I studied the picture carefully, scrutinizing every detail of the man’s face. “I don’t know who that is.”
“Well, you may not know him, but he knows you, and apparently he doesn’t like you.”
“He’s in the system?” I asked again, trying to make sense of it all. I had been so convinced it was Asher, my brain refused to believe there was another man out there who hated me enough to torch my house.
“Yep. We’ve already issued a warrant for his arrest. His last known address is unknown. The arrest record showed he was homeless. It’s going to be tough to track him down, but we will,” he said with confidence. “Now that we know who we’re looking for, we can focus our investigation.”
“I don’t know the name,” I said, hating that I didn’t. I felt like I should have. “You’re sure that’s the guy?”
He took a deep breath. I knew I was irritating him, but I was at a loss.
“I suggest going through your arrest records over the past year or so. This guy was picked up a long time ago. You weren’t the arresting officer. He served a few days in jail, got out on bail, and skipped out on his court date. It doesn’t make sense he would go after you, unless you had a recent run-in with him. He probably used a different name.”
“What was he busted for?” I asked, hoping to stir a memory.
“Burglary, which led to an additional assault on a law enforcement officer charge. He has a felony warrant for failure to appear for those charges.”
“Definitely wasn’t me. I would have remembered that. Thanks, man. I know I’ve been a pain in your ass. I’m going to start digging into my old arrest records and see if I remember anything. The face is unfamiliar. Even if a perp had given me a fake name, I don’t think I’d forget that face. Look at those eyes. That is one scary dude,” I said, staring at the picture and committing it to memory.
I left, my mind whirring as I searched my mental files, trying to remember if I had ever seen that man. I was confident I hadn’t. If I saw him now, though, it would be a different story. Those eyes were unforgettable.
I secured a computer and started searching. I googled the man’s name and came up empty. After about an hour of searching, a thought occurred to me. I had been wrong. Dead wrong. I had fucked up.
I grabbed my phone and immediately called Savannah. She didn’t answer. It was then I remembered she would be at work. I sent her a text, asking her to meet me for lunch. She needed to know it wasn’t her ex, and I felt like I owed her a big fat apology.
Maybe the restraining order had worked. I had checked every day, and there had been no calls about him violating the order. I knew Savannah would report anything. It had been almost a week, and there had been nothing from the guy.
“Shit,” I mumbled under my breath.
My phone beeped, and I checked the text, eager to see what time I could pick up Savannah. My eagerness quickly turned to disappointment as I read her response.
She wasn’t going to lunch with me. She claimed to have a meeting. That was fine, understandable.
How about dinner? I sent the text and waited, holding the phone in my hand.
Busy.
“Fuck!” I grumbled.
She wasn’t busy. She was blowing me off. I had pissed her off, and now she didn’t want to talk to me. I wanted to make things right between us. The only way to do that
was to talk to her.
Tomorrow? I asked, feeling like a fool for practically begging her to meet with me.
I waited for several long minutes. Just when I thought she wasn’t going to text me back, the phone beeped.
No. Not the next day either. There’s nothing left to say.
It was my own fault. I had jumped to conclusions. She was understandably mad. If I gave her a few days to cool off, maybe she would decide to talk to me.
I put the situation out of my mind and started to go through my arrest records. It was a tedious search, and my eyes were feeling the strain as I looked at mug shot after mug shot. I already knew the name wasn’t going to be there. They had already searched the record base.
Who the hell was this guy?
I began to wonder if it was a disgruntled neighbor or maybe some other incident that had made this guy hate me. Maybe I had slept with his girlfriend. I closed my eyes, racking my brain to put the name to some episode in my life. Nothing was coming up. I highly doubted I would ever hook up with a woman who would have had anything to do with him.
I stared at his picture on the screen. His beady eyes stared back.
“I’m going to find you, you little fucker. You can run, but I will track you down,” I whispered to the screen.
My search had been fruitless. I had wasted half my day and needed to get to the insurance office. I was supposed to be getting an estimate on what they were willing to cover for the price of the home. I wasn’t in the mood to be yanked around. They had better be fair, or shit was going to hit the fan.
I drove to the insurance company, my eyes constantly scanning the faces of the drivers in the cars on the road and people walking down the street. I was going to find that man. I had to.
My meeting with the adjustor and claims rep went smoothly. They expected to have things moving along within the next week or two. It looked like I would get a fair price for my home. Now I needed to decide if I wanted to rebuild or move on.
My insurance covered a rental, but there was no way I was going to do that to Lily. The stability of my parents’ house was what she needed at the moment, even if I hated living at home. It made me feel like a kid again. Eating dinner on occasion with my mom and dad was cool, but living with them, not so much. I had to figure out something quick.
I drove around for a while, scanning the streets, looking for the man I wanted to get my hands on. I was bored and had nothing better to do. If I was at home, I’d be doing laundry, cleaning up, or taking care of the little things like grocery shopping or something. Living with my parents was driving me crazy in all kinds of ways.
I killed time until it was time to pick Lily up from school. The last thing I wanted to do was sit with my parents at home all day. At least with Lily there, it was a nice distraction.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Savannah
After my first full week at my new job, I was feeling worn out. I hadn’t worked full-time in a while and I had forgotten how taxing it could be. I opened the door to my empty house and felt the loneliness. All week, I had been alone. It was weird with Cameron gone. I missed seeing him coming and going, and, of course, I missed our little sleepovers.
I roamed through the house, picking up stray dishes and tidying up as I went. My bedroom looked like a bomb had gone off. It definitely needed some attention. My eyes drifted to the closed bedroom door across the hall.
I opened it and stared at the pink and purple blast of color and realized I missed Lily as well. Cameron’s text yesterday had tempted me, but I wasn’t going to set myself up to get hurt. Not again. I wondered if the DNA test results had come in. Maybe they had hauled Asher off to jail. When I’d read his texts yesterday, I had assumed he wanted to gloat in person about been right. He was probably going to tell me we could be together now that he’d locked Asher up. Too bad, you big jerk.
I was still angry and smarting and not quite ready to talk to him. I walked into the kitchen and quickly loaded the dishes. I didn’t want to be in the house. It was too quiet.
I reached for my phone, scrolled through the contacts, and waited.
“Mom?” I said when she answered.
“Yes, Savannah,” she said with a smile in her voice.
“Can I come home for the weekend?”
“Of course! You know you never have to ask. Don’t be so silly. Get your butt home. We’d love to see you!”
I smiled and told her I was on my way. I couldn’t be in the empty house. I would go out of my mind wondering what Cameron and Lily were doing and whether Lily was comfortable at her grandparents’ house. Of course she would be. Just because I had made a room for her didn’t make my house any better.
I started the dishwasher, packed a bag, and headed out the door, making double sure it was locked tight. If Asher was out there, I didn’t want him messing up my place again. If he destroyed Lily’s things, it would kill me. A sudden dawning hit me. Lily wasn’t even my daughter and I couldn’t imagine what I would do if Asher tore up her bed or destroyed her pretty dresses. That gave me a small glimpse into Cameron’s world and what he was probably feeling.
It lessened my anger and hurt, but it still lingered. As I drove, my thoughts, no matter how hard I tried to stop them, drifted to Cameron. It was either his smile, his smoldering good looks, or the way he could strum my body and give me the most powerful orgasms of my life.
“Stop!” I ordered myself as I pulled up to the gate at my parents’ home.
I punched in the code and drove toward my reserved space in the six-car garage. I walked into the house, inhaling the smell of fresh-baked bread, and smiled.
“Mom? Dad?” I called out.
“Den!” I heard my dad’s deep voice boom, echoing off the tall ceilings in the hall.
I found him reclining on his leather sofa, a book in his hands and a glass of wine on the table beside him.
I smiled at the scene. “You look comfortable,” I teased.
“I am very comfortable. It’s good to see you.”
“Where’s Mom?”
“Follow your nose.”
My eyebrows shot up. “She’s baking?” I asked with a combination of alarm and surprise.
He laughed. “Sure. We’ll call it that.”
“It smells so good, though.”
“Yeast in water always smells good. That doesn’t mean it’ll actually turn into something good.” He winked.
I nodded. “Gotcha’. Wish me luck.” I headed off for the kitchen, a little nervous about what I might find.
When I walked into the huge kitchen space, my gaze landed on a bowl of bubbly goo. My mom turned to look at me, and I burst into laughter. There was flour smeared across one cheek, and she looked frazzled.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, noting another bowl of dough on the opposite counter.
“Oh, you’re here. I was hoping to have some fresh bread to serve you. I don’t think that’s going to happen.” She smiled.
“You tried, and I appreciate that. It smells good, though,” I said, trying not to laugh.
“Thanks. I don’t know why I tried. I wasn’t born with the cooking gene. It’s time to admit defeat before I burn down this beautiful kitchen.” She poured a glass of wine for me and then her own.
“Thank you,” I said, taking a drink.
“What’s going on?” My mother always had been intuitive.
I sighed. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“At the beginning, dear. Always at the beginning.”
We moved into what she called her room, which was a smaller living room outfitted in baby blues and lots of white. A couch covered with pillows and two wingback chairs were situated over a fluffy bright white rug.
I sat on the couch and told her my tale of woe.
“I’m sorry, hon. I really am. It was certainly not the way to repay you for your kindness. Shame on him,” she said in a soothing tone. “However,” she started, and I cringed.
I knew she was going to be reasonable.
I wasn’t in the mood for reasonable. I wanted to be pitied.
“What?” I pouted.
“I think you need to give him the chance to explain. Obviously, he wants to talk to you. Maybe he realized he was a little hasty and wants to apologize,” she suggested.
“Too late. The damage is done,” I said firmly.
She smiled. “You just admitted how you felt at the mere thought of Asher damaging the things you bought for Lily. He’s being a good daddy. You have to respect that. It is an admirable quality.”
“I do, and I think it’s cute and I am glad he takes such good care of her, but he’s acting like I’m the Wicked Witch of the West!”
My mother laughed. “You don’t think you’re being a little dramatic? To be honest, it seems a little premature for you to live together as a family. You’ve only known each other a couple weeks. It may be for the best he stays with his parents. Date, have fun, and get to know each other before you start shacking up,” she said bluntly.
“Mom!”
She laughed. “Oh, please, like that’s not what it is.”
We drank a whole bottle of wine, laughing and giggling over silly things. I always felt better after a little one-on-one with my mom. She was better than any counselor.
“I’m going to bed,” I said with a yawn. “This week has worn me out.”
My mom laughed. “You’re a full-time working adult. Get used to those long days when you get home and are too tired to lift a finger.”
“I like it. It’s not so hard. I need to find my groove and it’ll be fine.”
I headed for bed, checking my phone and seeing Emma had texted. I texted her back, setting up dinner and a night out tomorrow. She had asked if I was sure I wanted to go out to the local bars, concerned I would run into Asher. I was sure. Asher didn’t scare me nearly as badly as he used to. Of course, it could have been the wine that made me feel braver than I actually was.
The next night at dinner, I told Emma about everything that had happened. I had told her about the fire that had destroyed Cameron’s house but not the part about him being convinced it was Asher and I was the root of all his problems.
Hot Cop Next Door: A Second Chance Romance Page 20
