Now that Jenna walked into the room, now that she turned back to look at me, her eyes shadowed with grief and something akin to anger, my voice refused to work.
“Why did you fly out here, Cam? What could you possibly want?”
I opened my mouth, my heart thundering in my ears. I cleared my throat. Stepping closer I raised my hand to touch her cheek but Jenna flinched back. My chest ached, my knees weakened.
“Found out that the baby Kim carried was my uncle’s. The man I thought of as my father.”
She blinked, then blinked again. “What?”
I rubbed the back of my neck, unsure why I’d started there. Not what I’d meant to say. “Katie Rose doesn’t know. I mean, that my brother and I aren’t…that we just share our mother with her.”
Jenna shook her head as if I’d overloaded her with information.
“That’s not what my leaving was about though. I messed up. I couldn’t figure out how to make it right between us because I figured if you were hurt because of me, then I should let you go. But then you told me about the miscarriage.”
“There was no miscarriage.”
I nodded. “Right. Still, at the time, all I heard was pregnancy and I thought you must be like Kim. But you’re not. You’re nothing like her.”
Jenna’s eyes narrowed as I spoke. She released a heavy breath. “You didn’t even listen to my explanation. That hurt me, Cam.”
“The moment I walked out your door, I started bleeding.”
“I wanted to talk to you.” She stood taller. “I wanted you to hold me. Like you promised you would, especially after I was hurt attending your concert.”
“I…” How to explain about the adrenaline, the fear for her life? For my panicky reaction to the mere idea of being in or near a crowd again? “I want you to finish telling me about Ben.”
She wrapped her arms around her middle. “Now that’s important to you?”
The derision in her voice caused me to flinch but I managed a nod.
The anger in her eyes, the firm set of her lips crumpled. “You want to know about him? Fine.”
19
Jenna
The fresh slice of Cam’s concern—not for me but for Ben and what happened all those years ago—kept me from finding pleasure in his shocked look.
Served him right. He’d thought the worst of me and disappeared for days without so much as a “how ya doing” after that mob attack.
“There is literally not one other thing to tell you. I hadn’t seen Ben since that night at the concert until he walked into my shop. I assume he thinks I miscarried because that was the rumor going around the school in the weeks before. I don’t know for sure because I’ve had no further interaction with him. It was an ovarian cyst, by the way. My doctor believes it may have ruptured because of stress.”
I looked away, hating feeling so dejected, so out-of-control. That’s part of why I decided to fly up here. I needed space, not just from Cam and the media, but from Cam’s sister, Kate, simply because she reminded me of him—of the safety and closeness I’d managed to lose within days of finding it.
“Why didn’t you tell me then?” he rasped.
“Why didn’t you stick around if you wanted to know so bad?” I shot back.
He dropped his head into his hands and his shoulders heaved. His breath slid into his mouth in a thick rasp.
I inched toward the door, needing to get away from all these emotions. As if he felt my withdrawal, Cam leaped to his feet and wrapped me in his arms. I stiffened. Cam’s touch, his scent, relaxed me even as I tried to break free.
“Just let me hold you a second, sugar. Like I should have then. I know I need to apologize but just…let’s be still.”
“No.” The word ripped from my throat, guttural, animalistic.
He dropped his arms and stepped back.
“You don’t get to pretend everything’s fine. Everything is not fine. You…” My chin trembled. “You left me.” I gasped for air, my chest and throat tight. “I was attacked, and you left me.”
Cam’s eyes widened with each word before moisture filled his eyes again. “I… Oh, Jenna, I fucked up bad.”
I headed to the door and opened it. I turned to look back at him and said, “I know.”
I shut the door and leaned back against it. Cam’s father’s—no, uncle’s—death and meeting me, my historical similarities to Kim—I got why he had issues. He’d been slammed by an emotional tidal wave. But, the problem was, he tried to drag me out to sea with him, and I refused to go.
I could not go under.
I swiped at the moisture on my cheeks as I walked down the hall. Nessa and Abbi still waited there with Chuck. All three looked at me with sympathy and maybe even pity. Abbi wrapped her arm around my shoulder while Nessa grabbed my hand, squeezing my cold fingers.
I smiled a little at them before turning back to face the elevator doors.
I refused to look back when I heard a door open down the hall. Just as I refused to let Cam any deeper into my life and heart.
The doors slid shut and we rode upstairs to the suite I’d treated myself to during this weekend away.
Abbi and Nessa tried to fuss over me, but I shook my head. “Let’s watch the movie,” I said.
Abbi nibbled on her lip while Nessa wrung her hands.
“Either we watch a movie or we call it a night, ladies. I can’t talk about him. Please.”
When I blinked back this round of tears, Abbi and Nes nodded.
Nes, the greedy girl, grabbed the remote and started surfing the movie channels. We settled back in, watching Henry Cavill pretend to be Clark Kent, an average Smallville teen.
Thank goodness for my friends, both of whom rested their heads on my shoulders.
Still, when they left to go home to their men—men who loved them, doubts, failings, quirks and all—the hotel suite turned dark and quiet and sleep evaded me.
After a couple hours of restlessness, I rose and stood at the window and wished for the warmth and intimacy Cam and I started to build before our pasts rammed ugly heads.
The knocking on my door came within moments of my phone’s text chimes. I buried my face under the pillow and pulled it tight over my ears.
Neither stopped.
With an angry huff, I threw the pillow to the side and stomped out of the bedroom toward the door, throwing it open.
“What?” I demanded, unsurprised to see Cam standing there, showered, clean-shaven, and looking far too yummy. I snarled before I turned away, half-wishing I’d slammed the door right in his face.
Damn him.
“Did I wake you?”
I grunted as I collapsed on the couch, tugging a throw pillow into my lap.
“You want this coffee I brought?”
“I’d rather go back to bed, but you’re not going to leave me alone, are you?”
He set the coffee on the table in front of me before sidling around to settle into a deep club chair opposite me.
With a sigh, I picked up of the coffee and took a sip, my eyes never straying from his face.
“Why did you let me believe you were like Kim?”
I set the coffee cup on the table again. “Seriously? You wanted to believe that about me.”
“You let me leave thinking it was true.”
I stood and stepped away, unable to look at him any longer. “No, Cam. See. This is why you should have simply left me alone.” I bowed my head. “You believed what you wanted. What you expected. We don’t trust each other.”
“Kind of hard to do with our histories.” He cleared his throat. “My da—uncle dying when he did, without the chance to fix what we both broke between us, but more, in the whole family it’s… I don’t know how to live with that regret, Jenna. Even knowing he wasn’t my father, even knowing he hurt my mother in the process. I loved a woman who never loved me back. She used me. My uncle used us all.”
My heart ached at the pain in his eyes, but I lifted my chin. “I don’t know what to tell you. I c
an’t change my past or my decisions to fit what you want in a girlfriend. Better to simply end us before we ever really begin.”
He rose and came to stand next to me, his eyes sharp but the skin around his mouth pulled tight in worry. “I know I messed up. You’re so right. I let past fears destroy my present.” He paused, pulling a candy from his pocket with shaking hands.
“How are you feeling, by the way? That should have been my first question.”
I raised an eyebrow. Yes, it should have.
“I’ve missed you, sugar.” His voice was soft. “I keep seeing you in my dreams. I keep feeling you snuggled against me like you were that day in the river, but you’re gone and I’m empty. I know it’s my fault. I know it. But do you want to stop seeing me?”
I went to the table and picked up the coffee there. I needed more of it—I needed time to think.
“This week’s been unbearable,” he continued. “I—I’ve missed you, and my mind…it’s going a million miles in too many directions. Then I’m in the same room as you again and I can breathe.” His eyes held mine, the truth there deep. Resonant. “I can think. I can relax because you’re here. Right here, with me.”
Why was admitting my desire for Cam so hard? Why did it feel like if I took one more step, the ground would fall out from under me and I’d be in free-fall?
“I care for you, Jenna Marie. And it’s scarier now because I know just how much you can hurt me.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“Me? Living with my regret?”
I nodded. He shrugged those broad shoulders, but even in doing so, the weight of his mistake settled more tightly there.
“I don’t know. But I do know I have to try to fix what I broke with you.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’ve been miserable without you. All I’ve wanted was to hold you close and talk this through.”
“Would it help?”
“To talk it through?”
I nodded against his chest. And he did. He told me the whole story—how he and Kim met, when he fell in love, how she was cheating with his uncle. How his identity shifted when he found out the man he’d called father was his uncle.
As he spoke I settled into his side. His arm slid around me and he hauled me closer so I practically lay on him, his deep voice against my cheek even as it filled my ears. I laid my hand over his heart—that fragile organ so in need of my nearness, of my ability to simply be here and listen.
We stayed like that, wrapped together, soaking in each other’s heat but also awareness.
“Comparing our pasts is silly, but yours is…”
“Atrocious. I mean, cheating on my mother? That’s enough to stomach. But with my wife.” He sighed, a heavy, heartfelt sign. “They’re both dead. I can’t rail at either of them.”
“Would it make you feel better?” I lifted my head.
His brows wrinkled in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“To yell at them—to scream all the bad words you can think of. My counselor and I did that after Ben had me ostracized from my classmates and after the miscarriage rumors. That’s the only way I was able to show up at that club that night.”
“Worked out well. Aren’t you glad you did that?” he asked.
I pressed my finger to my lip, considering. “I am.”
His body tensed, his arms loosening around my waist.
“No, I am. Hear me out. Up to that point, I thought the worst thing that could happen to me was to no longer be popular, to have people say mean things about me. I’d lost my dream boyfriend and my best friend. I’d lost a baby that I never even had to begin with.” I smoothed my hands down his chest. “That night, I reclaimed a piece of me—the part that wasn’t Homecoming Queen or Robbie’s ex-girlfriend. I was just Jenna Olsen, high school senior. Sure, bad things happened. But I was there. I was alive. I’m still alive. And I’ve found out who my true friends are in the process.”
His arms tightened to tell me he was my friend, hopefully my lover.
“Your coffee’s gone cold,” he said.
“I don’t care.”
Our breathing synched, my lids grew heavy and that inexplicable tightening returned to my chest and throat. But this time, I knew. It was out of thankfulness.
“I’m going to spend the day with my friends,” I said, my eyes drifting closed.
“All right. May I come?”
Did I want him there? I bit my lip, considering.
“Okay.”
We didn’t leave Kai and Evie’s place until late, mainly because I didn’t know when I’d get to see them again.
Cam fidgeted for most of the ride back to the hotel.
“What’s got into you?” I asked.
“I liked hanging out with your friends.”
“Well, you should. They’re musicians.”
Cam smirked. “That’s a huge bonus. But, no, I like them. They’re a good group.”
I looked out the window, unable to focus on Cam because my throat constricted. Leaving the warmth and acceptance I had here proved harder each time. Yet…my life was in Austin.
I’d chosen to stay there, to help Pop-pop, and as I’d told Nessa many times before, I loved my work.
The silence grew, and Cam squirmed in his seat.
“Can I stay with you tonight?” he blurted.
I yelped, pulled out of my sad thoughts. “What?” I laid my hand over my heart.
“Tonight. I’d like to stay in your room.”
His cheeks reddened and his shoulders pulled in. Cam, the big-name country music legend, just practically begged to stay in my room with me.
He pulled out a Werther’s and popped it in his mouth. He was nervous.
“Um. Sure.”
He leaned in close and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “Thank you.”
We pulled up to the hotel and one of the other security guards opened the door, helping me out first. A few photographers swarmed us, their flashes momentarily blinding me until I managed to look away.
Cam tugged me tight into his side in that protective way of his. He led me up the stairs, a bodyguard in front and another behind.
“I’m kind of surprised there were so few,” Cam muttered.
“We routed out a bunch earlier when Chuck said you were on your way back,” the guy in front of us said. I didn’t know his name, but I needed to learn it. He pressed the button on the elevator before looking around to ensure our continued safety.
The elevator dinged and we stepped into the empty car. I yawned. Cam yawned. I leaned my head against his shoulder and he cuddled me closer to his chest.
We stopped off on his floor so he could grab his toothbrush, a change of clothes, and his phone charger.
Once we’d settled into my room, I turned toward him. “I’m surprised you didn’t book a suite.”
“Most were taken. I had a tough time getting that floor as it was.”
“Why the floor?” I asked.
“Privacy,” he said with a shrug.
My shoulders knotted. The way he led his life was so different from mine. “Should we go back down? I mean, I don’t want the press to bother you anymore.”
He set his bag on the floor and cupped my cheeks. “It’s not me I’m worried about. Now, what time’s your flight out tomorrow?”
“Eight-thirty, I think.”
Cam pulled out his phone and sent a text. “I’ll be on it with you. So will Chuck and your guards, at least.”
I blew out a breath, which caused goosebumps to sprout on Cam’s neck. Interesting.
“You don’t have to coddle me, Cam. I do know how to take care of myself.”
He lifted his head and tilted my chin back so I met his eyes.
“That’s the thing, sugar. I can’t get enough of taking care of you.”
He tweaked my nose. “Ready for bed?”
I was. I wanted to push our relationship—seal the emotional with the physical—but I was scared. So, I brushed my teeth and put on
my pajamas.
Three hours later, I couldn’t stand the gnawing ache between my legs.
I rolled onto my other side so I could face Cam. My fingertips drifted over his bristly cheek, drifting closer to his lips. A soft puff of air hit the sensitive skin there, and I bit my lip to keep in my moan.
Maybe I shouldn’t wake him. I pulled my hand back and he caught my fingers, never opening his eyes.
“I like you touching me,” he said, his voice raspy.
“I want to do more than just touch.”
He opened his eyes and they shone brightly in the darkness. “You sure about that? I made you a decent proposal.”
I scooted forward until my body hugged every inch of his. My breath caught at the feel of him through his boxer briefs. “I want to change our relationship. Make it physical. And very, very indecent.”
He rolled so I was pinned under him, his hips pressed against the juncture of mine. “That I can do. With great joy and even more enthusiasm.”
His mouth claimed mine. The kiss was scorching—filled with need, longing, and a whopping dose of straight-up lust. I pressed my lips harder to his, our teeth touching, as we devoured each other.
I’d had sex before. Those first fumbling and sweet moments with Robbie. That furtive and soul-destroying moment with Ben, followed, thankfully, by much more empowering moments with a few others. But nothing—not one moment in my past—prepared me for loving Camden Grace.
He was potent. He was attentive. He was responsive. He was in charge.
I reveled in his patient, gentle dominance.
I wanted more. More skin, more kisses, more passion. And he gave that—more—to me.
We kept kissing and the urgency grew. When I wrapped my arms around his neck, he tugged my hands away as he broke the kiss. I whimpered because I needed to touch his warm skin, desperate for him to devour my mouth again.
“You have to let me pace this, sugar. I want you too bad. Too damn bad for you to get all handsy.”
With trembling fingers, he pushed up my thin camisole. I hissed out a breath as his warm palms slid up my ribs to cup my breasts. Then he moved on, continuing to push up my top until it was over my head. He dropped it to the side of the bed.
Deep in the Heart Page 15
