Climbing into his beat-up Ford truck, he started the engine and tore out of there. He wasn’t fit for company, would tear off the head of anyone dumb enough to approach him. He’d go back and apologize later, even to Mac. Especially to Mac.
But for now, he wanted to be alone.
He blew through town and headed out to the lake road, taking the curves at breakneck speed. Ended up in the dusty gravel parking lot of The Tree. This time of afternoon only the hardcore locals were there, and not very many of them.
Perfect.
Storming into the bar, he found a small table in the back corner of the cavernous room and ordered a Jack and Coke from the hardened waitress. Anger still simmered just beneath his skin. Disappointment over Chloe’s seeming betrayal lingered deeper, making his tense muscles ache.
When the waitress brought his drink, he grabbed it from her, downed it with one gulp, and asked for another. “A double,” he added.
Giving him a skeptical glance, she turned without a word and brought his double minutes later, accompanied by a second one. “Just in case,” she said as she set them in front of him.
He nursed the second one, much like he nursed his anguished thoughts about Chloe. Damn it, he needed to end this. He was getting too close, falling for her, and when he did that sort of thing, he opened up. Became vulnerable.
And she stabbed him right in the heart, going straight to his sister who in turn blabbed to the rest of his family. When it came to ferreting out secrets, Jane was an expert. Big mistake for Chloe to whisper even a hint to her. Huge. Probably his parents knew now too and damn, he did not want to deal with his mom about this. She would flip.
He chugged the rest of his drink, blocking the image of his mother wanting to make sure he was all right. She hovered enough already.
Cam didn’t know how long he stayed in that dark corner of The Tree, but eventually the place started to fill up with a few just off the lake types and some just off work types, most of them male, though he spotted two women eyeing him from a few tables over.
He ignored them, more than a little drunk. Damn, he couldn’t drive home. Vargas would nail him for sure if he didn’t wreck going around a sharp corner first.
Cam frowned. Wrecking around sharp corners made him think of Chloe and that made him think of interrupted foreplay and warm, soft skin, quivery breaths and pink tongues and holy shit.
He broke out in a sweat, drained what was his fourth glass of Jack and Coke—or was it his fifth?—and wished she was with him. Right here, right now. So he could lose himself in her. Just once, just so he’d experience what it was like. Sex with Chloe.
And then he’d leave. Bail out on this town and her and his family because that’s what he did best. He didn’t do well under emotional pressure.
He snorted. That was an understatement.
Work pressure, sure, he could handle it. Mostly.
Hell.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, saw that the two women were now approaching, come-hither expressions on their overly made-up faces. Were they local? They sure didn’t look local.
“Hey sailor,” one of them said and he barely restrained himself from laughing at the lame pick-up line. “You look a little lonely.”
The other woman smiled at him, revealing a smudge of bright pink lipstick across her teeth. “Want some company?”
“I appreciate the offer but uh, I prefer to drink alone.” Damn, he wished he could call someone to get him out of here. His brother was off the list. So were his sisters. And hell if he would call Chloe; he was still mad at her.
Might take out all this passionate rage still simmering inside him on her the minute he saw her.
By attacking her.
“Aw, are you sure?” Lipstick Teeth asked, her overly pink lips formed into a glossy pout. “We’d love to buy you a drink.”
He bet they would. Get him stone cold drunk and then try to maul him. He knew the type. He’d encountered them before, might’ve indulged with a handful of them, too. Back in his I’m-a-callous-jackass-and-would-screw-anything-that-moves days.
Wait, he was still in those days. Right?
Not even close.
“Back off ladies, the man’s with me,” came a sweet voice to his right, startling both women so that they moved away with sneers on their faces, their irritation clear.
He turned, saw Chloe standing there, all righteous indignation and full of fire. She glared at the two women until they slunk off and then she approached him, bracing her hands flat on the table so she could lean over it, stare him directly in the eyes.
Giving him a delectable view down her V-neck shirt. His gaze dropped, caught a glimpse of her bra, the red, lacy one that had given him heart palpitations that night on her back patio.
“Eyes up, mister. I’m taking you home.”
…
All it had taken was Jane hearing the tone of her voice and her friend had known something was wrong. She pestered and pestered until finally Chloe collapsed under pressure, mentioning he’d had an accident. She’d cringed when Jane started going off, upset and worried about her brother. The moment the words left her lips, Chloe knew it had been a mistake, telling Jane anything about Cameron. He’d probably never forgive her.
But maybe having his siblings know would help him. It wasn’t healthy, keeping all of that bottled inside. Cam needed to realize he had a family ready and willing to support him, through the good times and the bad. He didn’t need to keep running, didn’t need to keep avoiding everyone who cared about him.
Including her.
She’d broken through that barrier on the boat and held him while he’d cried. He never admitted it, she’d never asked him about it, but she’d felt the dampness on her neck. Knew that he’d shed a few tears over his pain, his supposedly messed-up life.
But she hadn’t expected Jane to run to her sister and brother and stage an intervention on Cameron’s behalf. He’d called it an ambush, Jane had told her. Right after he knocked Mac to the ground, then got into an argument with every single one of them before he ran out.
She couldn’t half blame him. Had been furious when she heard what they’d done and chewed Jane out for it, too. They’d handled it all wrong. Cam hated confrontation. Even she knew that.
Jane hadn’t called to get chewed out, though. She was looking for Cam. They were worried about him after he stormed out of their parents’ house. Was he with her? Jane asked.
Chloe had a hunch where he might be and it turned out she was right. There he sat at a table in the corner of The Tree, drunk as could be and actually getting hit on by two out of town tramps. He hadn’t deterred them, either. Was flashing them a dopey grin she wanted to kiss right off his face, which irritated her to no end.
“Let’s go.” She grabbed hold of Cam’s arm and yanked him into a standing position, saw that he wobbled on his feet, which was a bad sign. Half leading him, half dragging him, she walked him out of the bar. She told Sal to put Cam’s bill on her tab, even though she really didn’t have one.
Sal knew she was good for it.
“You keep a tab here?” Cam asked incredulously as she pushed through the double doors, the late afternoon sun blinding them both.
Him worse. “Damn, that’s bright.” He held his free hand up in front of his face, shielding his eyes.
“Come on. You need to sleep this off. Have a cup of coffee, something to sober you up.” She led him to her new car, a cute used Honda Civic Ali had convinced her to buy when she accompanied her to the car lot in Oakwood a few weeks ago. It was red, the same color as the bra she wore, and it made her feel racy.
Sexy.
Two words she would’ve never used to describe herself. Before Cam, that is.
“What about my truck?” He waved at where it was parked.
“It’ll be okay here for the night. Or I’ll have Mac come get it and drive it home for you,” she suggested.
The look on his face was positively feral. “Hell, no,” he growle
d, his eyes glinting with simmering rage.
She realized her mistake but didn’t say a word. Wouldn’t be smart to engage the angry drunk man, so she hit the keyless remote and opened the passenger side door, shoving him inside. He went willingly, slumping in his seat, then he leaned his head back, closed his eyes, his long legs sprawled in front of him. His shorts rode up a little, offering her a glimpse of the still red scar on his knee from the surgery he’d had on it.
Looking way too delicious for words, despite the scar. Despite his drunken state.
She had it so bad.
Chloe pulled out of the parking lot and started to head to Patrick’s family cabin, where Cam was staying, but he said, “Not that way. Take me to your place.” He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I don’t want to be alone.”
She couldn’t resist his plea. So she turned left and headed toward her house. Remained silent as she drove, casting the occasional glance in Cam’s direction. His kissed-by-the-sun hair was mussed and wildly beautiful, much like the man himself. He could roll out of bed and look like a god.
Chloe sighed. Life was so unfair sometimes.
“Quit looking at me,” he mumbled, his eyes still closed.
She whipped her gaze back to the road. “How do you know I’m looking at you?” she asked warily.
“I can feel your eyes. No matter how sneaky you think you are, Chloe Dawson, I always know when you’re looking at me. Thinking about me.” His voice drifted off and she glanced at him again, noted the amused smile curling his sensuous lips. “Like right now.”
“Ha.” She returned her gaze to the road, flicked her blinker on and turned right. Drunk, pissed off, yet amusing Cameron was making her uneasy. Especially when he reached over and settled his hand on her bare knee. She wore her favorite denim skirt, never thinking how easily he could slip his hand beneath it and…touch her.
Okay, she lied. She’d put on the outfit earlier with the intention of giving Cam easy access. She was tired of denying herself. All summer they’d been driving each other crazy and she was ready. Damn the consequences. If last night was an indicator before they were so crazily interrupted, then today had the potential for her first time with Cam. As in, getting naked with Cam. Feeling his hands on her, his body moving over hers.
Well. Now that he was drunk, that sort of ruined her plan…
“Hmm, you have pretty knees.” He slid his hand up, beneath the hem of her skirt, his fingers tickling the inside of her thigh. “You work out, Chloe?”
He was being ridiculous. And distracting. “The biggest workout I’ve had this summer is when I almost flew my car into the lake.”
Cam chuckled, removed his hand from her leg. “I’d show you a major workout if you’d let me,” he murmured, eyes still closed, voice full of arrogance.
And promise. So much promise…
She clenched her thighs together, pressed the gas a little harder, anxious to get home. Not that anything was about to happen, considering he was snoring softly when she pulled into the drive. Had to practically smack him upside the head to wake him so she could help him stagger into the house, where he collapsed on her couch, asleep before his head hit the throw pillow.
Glaring at the big man who sprawled across her couch in a drunken heap, she shook her head and grabbed her cell, calling Jane to let her know Cam was with her and he was fine.
“Did he yell at you?” Jane asked after Chloe finished reassuring her.
“Of course not.” He’d been too drunk to yell. And he wasn’t an angry drunk, either.
Jane sighed. “I hope he apologizes to Mac. He punched him good.”
“How bad is it?” They’d fought over her. Jane didn’t need to confirm it, Chloe felt it in her gut.
“Swollen and bruised. He’s lucky Cam only glanced his fist across his jaw. It could’ve been worse.”
“I’ll talk to him when he wakes up, which probably won’t be until morning.” She paused, heard his nonstop snoring, and wondered how a man could be so loud when he slept.
“You don’t mind him staying there with you?”
“He’s on my couch. It’s no big deal.”
“If you say so. Tell him to call me tomorrow.”
“I will. See ya.” Chloe hung up, tossed the phone on her kitchen counter, and turned to contemplate Cam once more.
What was she going to do with him? Let him sleep there all night? He looked terribly uncomfortable, his too long legs dangling off the end of the couch, his body spread out so if he made one wrong move, he’d be on the floor.
Probably would serve him right, what with all the alcohol he must’ve consumed.
But lying there in his sleep, he also looked…vulnerable. It was a softer side of Cam, one she hadn’t seen much, if ever. Had a feeling the first time she saw him like this was last night.
He’d stolen her heart completely with his admission. And fired her body up until it was begging for more before they were so rudely interrupted.
Deciding she couldn’t stand around for the rest of the day watching him, she went to her room, changed into her shorts and running shoes, and decided to take a walk down by the lake.
Unfortunately alone.
…
Cam woke with a start, the room dark, the shadows different from the ones he was used to in his room at Patrick’s house, and the scent that lingered in the air reminded him of…
Chloe. He was at Chloe’s house.
Lifting himself up, he groaned, then lay back down so quickly, he conked his head on the edge of the couch’s arm, which made him groan louder. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head.
He stared at the ceiling, noticed that the room spun even though he wasn’t moving. Still a little drunk.
Not a good sign.
Hauling himself into an upright position, he glanced around, noted that it was completely dark. Saw from the glowing blue digital light on the microwave in the kitchen it was past one in the morning. Which meant he’d slept at least six hours, passed out on Chloe’s couch.
He was such an ass. Could hardly remember how he got here. The two girls flirting with him, Chloe swooping in and making her claim like a jealous girlfriend, which he’d loved.
Touching her thigh, telling her he’d give her a workout she’d never forget or some such bullshit. Then stumbling into her house, falling onto the couch, and that was…it.
She probably hated him. Fine, because he was still sorta pissed at her, irritated she gave in to Jane. Could he blame her? Should he blame her?
Yes and no.
He stood and shuffled into the kitchen, poured himself a giant cup of water and drained it. Then poured himself another. All the whiskey he’d drank had left him dehydrated and his mouth tasted something awful.
Deciding to do something about that, he crept to her bathroom, making sure he was quiet when he closed the door before he turned on the light. Trying his best not to invade her privacy, he dug around, looking for mouthwash, though if he had to squirt a wad of toothpaste in his mouth to get rid of the foul taste, he’d do it.
Luckily enough, he found the mouthwash in the cabinet under the sink and took a swig, swished it in his mouth, gargled as quietly as he could before he spit it out and rinsed the sink. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he grimaced.
He looked like hell. His hair stuck up all over the place, he hadn’t shaved in a few days, and his shirt and shorts were wrinkled. He looked downright rough. Like passed out in a gutter rough.
Imagine what he might’ve looked like if Chloe hadn’t come to the bar and rescued him? He shuddered at the thought.
Turning off the light, he exited the bathroom and stood in the hallway, contemplating his next move. He couldn’t leave, since he wasn’t sober enough yet. And he really didn’t want to go back to that couch, either. It was too short for his over six-foot frame.
He carefully opened a closed door and peeked inside, could make out it was a guest room but there were boxes and bags and
all sorts of stuff on top of the bed. Guess he couldn’t sleep there, either.
Feeling a little like Goldilocks, he figured his last option would most definitely be the best, what with a cozy bed and an even cozier woman to snuggle up to.
Frowning, he shut the door and started for the room at the end of the short hall. Cozy was not the proper word to describe Chloe. Sweetly sexy, that worked. Warm and open? Oh yeah, that fit her to a T. Would she welcome him in her bed like this, in the middle of the night and him still a little drunk?
His hopes were high.
Cam entered the room, stopping at the foot of the bed so he could watch her. The room was dark, he couldn’t make out much but a lump in the center of the bed and he smiled. Looked like perfectly polite Chloe was a bed hog.
Not deterred, he unbuttoned his shorts and pushed them off, kicking them aside. Tore off his T-shirt and nearly fell on his ass when the room still spun a little bit. With a grunt, he braced his hands on the edge of the bed, which caused Chloe to roll over, a soft little murmuring coming from her.
That intimate sound sent his body on high alert. Swallowing hard, he second-guessed himself. He was venturing into unchartered territory. Becoming intimate with Chloe wasn’t a simple good-time summer romance like they’d agreed upon. Damn it, he needed to confess to her about their argument before he took this any further, but how? He didn’t want to ruin this chance. Hell, it was already halfway ruined, what with him slightly drunk and still a little mad at her himself.
His head spun from too many conflicting thoughts. He needed to just go for it. Confessions could be made tomorrow. Right?
He was fooling himself if he didn’t admit what they shared was far more than a simple summer romance already. But taking it to the next level would bring on certain expectations. She warned him if they had sex, she would become too attached. When she’d said that originally, he’d freaked out a little.
Now, he…wanted that. Wanted to see what happened when they took that next step. How would it affect her? More importantly, how would it affect him?
Tempting Cameron Page 11
