Shelby came to the front door with a package of Twizzlers in hand and peered through the screen. “What the fuck was all that noise?”
“A childish tantrum.” Man, she wished she’d seen him get angry years ago. You could tell a lot about a person from the way they handled anger, and what she saw in Preston just now made her wince in embarrassment for him.
Shelby stared after his car. “Preston threw a tantrum?”
“Like a three year old.”
Shelby snorted before ducking back inside. “And you say I have bad taste in men.”
Poe squawked a greeting from his perch in the living room. Eva walked to him and ruffled the feathers on top of his head with one finger. “You have horrible taste in men, Shel—except for this guy.”
Shelby waved a piece of licorice at her. “Need I remind you, none of my past boyfriends have ever thrown a temper tantrum on our front lawn?”
“Because Poe has a higher IQ than any of your past boyfriends. You might as well have been dating vegetables.”
“Ooo, good one.” With a grin, Shelby bit into her candy and sketched a point in the air. “Big sis, one. Shelby, zero. And, sadly, you’re right. But only because I have the smartest birdie in the world.”
“Can’t argue that.”
They both cooed over the bird for a moment. Poe flapped his wings and puffed out his chest, soaking in every bit of the attention.
“So,” Shelby said as they settled on the couch together. An Asian horror movie played on the TV, and Shel used the remote to pause it. “Preston’s out of the picture?”
“After that? Yeah.” Eva sighed and stole a piece of licorice. “Way out.”
“Good. BRB.” She bounced up from the couch and vanished down the hallway.
“Did you really just say BRB?” Eva called after her. “You’re spending way too much time online. Maybe it’s time you find a job.”
“I have one.”
Eva stared as her sister reemerged from the hallway with her hands behind her back. “You do? Where?”
“The coffee shop where I met Cam’s brother. The one I’ve been going to for breakfast? I like it there, so I applied for a barista position. They called today.” She lifted her shoulders. “It’s no big deal.”
Oh, yes it was. Shelby had never before taken the initiative and done something responsible like find herself a job. Maybe there was hope for her yet.
Eva wanted to hug her—oh, what the hell. She moved around the coffee table and pulled her sister into her arms. “Good for you, Shel. I’m really happy for you.”
“Didn’t believe me when I told you I’m turning my life around?”
“No. But can you blame me? We’ve both heard that line so many times from Mom, and it never happened.”
“Mom’s not well. We both know it.” Grief strained Shelby’s usually bright smile. The purples around her eye had faded in the week since their mother’s visit, leaving the bruise several ugly shades of yellow. “And I don’t want to end up like her any more than you do. We’re not so different, Evie. We’re just taking alternate routes to the same place.
“And, okay,” she admitted before Eva could form a reply, “I went a little too far trying to prove how I’m not Mom, only to realize I was turning in to a punk rock version of her.” She stepped back and pressed a picture frame into Eva’s palm. “But you? Evie, you haven’t gone far enough. You’ve played it safe, dating wimpy, passive-aggressive men like Preston, the exact opposite of the asshole boyfriends Mom brought home.”
“I know.”
“And then there’s Cam.”
“No, we’re not talking about him.”
“Yeah, we are. Think about it. Who did you call as soon as we had Mom under control the other night?”
Dammit, did she have to acknowledge it?
Shelby nudged her when she stayed silent too long and she muttered, “Cam.”
“And that’s not the first time you turned to him. Who do you call whenever you’re sick or sad or lonely?”
“Of course I call Cam. He is—was my best friend. Now, I don’t know.” And that killed her. She missed what they used to be, but at the same time, she didn’t want to go back to plain old friendship. She’d gotten too comfortable with Cam as a lover. “Dammit. Having sex with him was such a huge mistake.”
“Oh, God.” Shelby rolled her eyes, the gesture highlighting her fading bruises. “You’re such a dunce sometimes. He’s not your best friend. Honestly, he never was. He’s the guy who’s wild for you, who would do anything for you. He’s nothing like Mom’s boyfriends, yet you pushed him to the back burner. And still, he stuck. He’s always going to stick and everyone with two eyes—hell,” she gestured to her bruises, “with one eye—can see how much he loves you. So why can’t you see it?”
Eva moistened her suddenly dry lips and looked down at the framed photo from her dresser that showed her and Cam after a Tough Mudder event, arms looped around each other. They were both soaked head-to-toe in mud and grinning at each other.
“Look at it,” Shelby told her.
“I’ve seen it before.” She’d had this photo for three years, had seen it every morning as she readied for work.
“But you’ve never really looked at it. Look at his expression.”
She did and saw exactly what Shelby wanted her to see, what Shelby had probably seen all along. Love. His eyes were soft and crinkled at the corners, and his smile was one of complete adoration. She thought of Cam’s ring in her pocket, the vibrant red gems speaking of the out-of-control fire and passion they shared in the bedroom. And, if she was honest with herself, out.
“He scares me,” she admitted, stroking a finger over his face in the photo.
“Why, because you can’t control him?”
“Because I can’t control myself around him.”
Shelby gave a soft laugh and poked her in the ribs with one finger. “You ask me, Evie, that’s a really awesome problem to have.”
…
He’s the guy who is wild for you, who would do anything for you.
The truth of her sister’s words bounced around in Eva’s skull all night, until she finally gave up on sleeping and settled on the couch to watch TV with a box of old photos. In every single one, she saw the same thing as in the picture on her dresser: Cam loved her. And as the photos progressed, she started to see that adoration reflected in her own eyes and smile.
Oh, hell. Why had she never noticed it before?
Shelby joined her around 2:00 am, but said nothing more about Cam or Preston or any of it. She just snuggled in beside Eva like she had when they were kids and entertained them both with snarky commentary on the late-night infomercials. Her imitation of the 1-900 phone sex commercials was eerily spot-on.
Eva narrowed her eyes at her little sister. “Shelby, you didn’t ever…”
“Some things are better left unknown, sis.”
“You’re shitting me.”
Shelby shrugged. “You do what you gotta. And it’s not as risqué as you think. Those women? They’re mothers and sometimes grandmothers, sitting at home in their pajamas with the TV on mute tuned to a sappy Lifetime movie, and their dogs or cats—or in my case, bird—snuggled up next to them.”
“While a pervert gets off to your voice on the end other of the line?”
“For the most part, they’re not pervs. They’re just lonely and…” She shrugged again, this time with less sass in the movement, and focused on the TV screen. “Well, I know a thing or two about being lonely.”
“Aw, Shel.” Eva wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “I’ve been thinking. The house is gonna be very quiet when you move out.”
Shelby sat up, eyes wide. “Really?”
“Yeah. So…maybe you’d want to stick around.”
With a sound that could only be described as a squee, Shelby tackled her to the couch in a hug.
“Thank you! I’ll pay rent this time,” she promised. “As soon as I start at the co
ffee shop, I’ll help with the bills and buy groceries. I’ll make you proud of me.”
Eva nodded, afraid that forming a verbal response would end in a sobbing fit—and unlike her mother, she did not cry prettily. It was all red eyes, blotchy face, and snot, and once she started with the waterworks, she found it hard to stop.
As gently as she could, she peeled Shelby’s arms from her around her neck and then cleared her throat. “How about a movie?”
“Ooo, good idea. I recorded Sharknado. Sharks and tornadoes in a SyFy original movie…you can’t go wrong.”
“Yeah,” Eva had to admit, “sounds pretty awesome.”
“I know, right? Awesomely horrible. Which calls for hip-widening junk food. And wine. White for you, red for me. We might as well class it up.” Full of boundless energy, even in the middle of the night, Shelby sprang up and disappeared into the kitchen.
“Let Poe out so he can bask in the B-horror movie glory with us,” Eva called after her and, a moment later, Poe flew out to perch on the arm of the sofa. She smiled and scratched the bird’s chest. “You have a pretty good mama, you know that, buddy?”
Poe squawked as if in agreement.
Eva succumbed to exhaustion half way through Sharknado, and her dreams swirled with images of Cam. They were both in the movie, covered from head-to-toe in mud, running from the horrendous CG animation, and he threw himself in front of an attacking shark while shielding her from the winds of a tornado.
Then in the twisted time warp of dreamland, they were at Maguire’s, and he gracefully bowed to her superiority in the game of darts before trouncing her in a pool match.
At his condo, in his shower, his mouth set fire to her nerve endings as his body took hers to new heights of erotic pleasure.
And then, she again saw the stark betrayal in his eyes when she’d admitted she was actually considering Preston’s proposal….
Eva jolted awake early in the afternoon to an empty house, and every cell in her being demanded she find him. She’d apologize. Hell, she’d grovel if that’s what it took. Because she’d come to a stunningly obvious realization somewhere between Shelby’s come-to-Jesus talk and the shark tornadoes: she never would have chosen Preston over Cam.
Never.
Cam made her laugh. He took away her control. Made her body sing with exquisite pleasure. Tied her up into jealous knots. Made her trust him. Alternately relaxed her and riled her up with just the sound of his voice. Made her happy in a way that nothing else in her life ever had. And she loved him to distraction. It was terrifying—a free fall, and she had no control of the parachute—but it was past time she told him what he meant to her.
If it wasn’t already too late.
She hurried through a shower, tossed on some clothes, and was in her car before she remembered his ring. Leaving the engine running, she ran back inside and found it where she’d left it the night before on her dresser. She slid it onto her finger and, yeah, it belonged right there.
What would he say when he saw it? Her pulse kicked with an odd mix of trepidation and anticipation. Well, she’d find out soon enough.
Eva drove to his condo first, but Vaughn’s Hummer sat in the driveway, and the space beside it reserved for Cam’s 4Runner was empty. She floored it past the condo without stopping—didn’t want to see Vaughn before she found Cam—and continued on toward the Wilde Security office, which was the only other place he’d be if he wasn’t out on a case.
And there was the 4Runner, parked in one of the spaces in front of the office. From the looks of things, he was the only one there right now. At least she didn’t have to grovel in front of his brothers. She would if it came to it, but she’d much rather have this conversation in private.
Except, now that she was here, trepidation was kicking anticipation’s ass. She stopped her car just inside the parking lot entrance to calm her nerves.
What if he rejected her? It was nothing less than she deserved.
Through the swirling snow, she saw him leave the office and jog to his SUV, head bowed against the wind. He opened the door, and she saw her chance to talk to him slipping away.
Now or never.
She hit the button for her window, and cold air spilled inside as she leaned out. “Cam, wait!”
He paused and turned toward her voice. Brow furrowing under the brim of his winter hat, he started toward her.
His car exploded into a fireball.
The shock of it blew out her windshield and knocked her back against the seat, her ears ringing, her lungs struggling to drag in a full breath. Her skin felt hot, raw, scratched up from the glass, and as she blearily focused on her hands, she realized she was bleeding.
Cam.
Oh, God.
She scrambled out of her car, bits of glass tinkling onto the icy pavement as she staggered and tried to find her bearings. A black and red blur bolted past her. Cam wasn’t wearing black. So who…?
Her mind finally started firing on all cylinders again. The bomber was here and trying to escape.
Hell no.
She spun, reaching out blindly to snag his coat. She missed, but he slipped when he tried to dodge her, pinwheeled across the ice, and ended up flat on his face several feet away. She jumped on his back, but discovered it was unnecessary—he’d knocked himself out when he fell. If only all criminals were so helpful. She made short work cuffing him, then scanned the scene. The 4Runner blazed sky high and the flames had spread to the office. She didn’t see Cam, and pain like she’d never felt before cleaved her in half.
Where was he?
There. She spotted him lying face-down in the snow ten feet from where he’d stood when the bomb went off.
Unmoving.
No.
She raced across the lot to him, slipping and sliding, scrambling to find and dial her phone with numb fingers, but gave up on calling 9-1-1 when she heard the wail of sirens.
Please, please let him be alive.
She didn’t dare touch him to roll him over, so she flattened herself out on her stomach next to him. She reached for his hand, but thought better of it when she noticed the burns already blistering his skin.
“Cam?” She couldn’t keep the break from her voice. Didn’t even try. “Cam, you hang on. Help’s coming, okay?”
His eyes opened to blurry slits, and he tried to push himself upright.
She lay a gentle hand on his back, wincing at the heat rolling off his body. “Hey, no. Stay still.”
A slow blink cleared some of the haziness from his eyes, and his lips peeled back from his teeth in a grimace of pain. “What. The. Fuck?”
Letting go a shaky laugh, Eva sat up beside him and pressed her palms to her face, the heat on her cheeks warming her icy fingers. She probably looked like she had a bad sunburn, but it didn’t matter.
Cam would be okay.
And if she’d just stop shaking, so would she.
Chapter Twenty-three
“Eva?”
As she stepped off the elevator, the woman’s surprised voice stopped her in her tracks. Lark Warren stood in the hallway outside the room Cam was supposed to be in, as small and pale as a china doll in her ivory colored coat with her streaky brown hair pulled back into a sloppy knot on top of her head. She wore no make-up and looked as if she hadn’t slept in a few days.
“Lark. Uh, hi. What are you doing here?”
“I was just…” She wrapped her arms around her middle and her cheeks flushed a pink that could only be described as pretty. “Visiting a friend.”
A friend? She couldn’t mean Cam…could she? Were they the kind of friends that visited each other in the hospital? Were they more than—
No. Eva shut down the line of thought before jealousy consumed her. Cam was a one woman kind of man. He wasn’t a cheater—which made her feel like the lowest kind of slime now that she thought about it. Going out with Preston for dinner had been so incredibly wrong. Sure, she and Cam had never agreed to more than a friends-with-benefits relationship. N
o commitment, no exclusivity. But, dammit, he never would have dated someone else as long as he was sleeping with her.
So she had no reason to be jealous of Lark. Had to be her exhaustion talking. Nearly twenty-four hours had passed since the bomb went off, and between the craziness at the scene, the arrest and interrogation of her suspect, and the ensuing paperwork, she was only standing right now by the sheer power of her will because she refused to go home before she saw Cam.
A lump swelled in her throat and she lifted her chin, indicating the door to his room. “How is he?”
“You know…?” Lark’s deer-in-the-headlights expression might have been comical if Eva wasn’t fighting back a rising sense of panic.
“Yeah, I was there. Is he all right?”
The corners of her mouth turned down into a ridiculously pretty frown, and a crease appeared between her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
Okay, not the brightest bulb, was she? “I saw the bomb. I got the guy that did it.”
“Oh.” And back to the wide-eyed deer expression. “Oh. Uh, I need to go.”
“What?”
“I…need to go now.”
Eva had been a detective long enough to know when she wasn’t going to get answers from someone. She stepped out of the way, almost as eager to end the conversation as Lark was. “Sure. See ya.”
Lark took a few quick steps down the hallway, but came up short and drew a breath that moved her shoulders. Appearing calmer, she spun back. “I’m sorry for how I acted in Key West. I had no idea about your past with Preston. He never told me about you.”
“It’s fine.”
“No. It’s totally not. If I had known…” She shook her head. “But at least we both figured out the kind of man he was before we made any stupid mistakes, right?”
“Wait, what—”
“I have to go. You didn’t see me here.” Without waiting for a response, Lark bypassed the elevator and took the stairs, the heavy fire door slapping shut behind her.
Weird.
But not important. Eva filed the conversation away for later consideration and strode to Cam’s room. Right now, he was her only concern.
Wilde for Her (A Wilde Security Novel) (Entangled Brazen) Page 17
