Marty put two hands up, palms out. “I had nothing to do with that.” She looked over at Callie, eyebrows raised.
Callie laughed and shook her head. “Don’t look at me. I’ve been writing a paper all afternoon. I left her with the reporter.”
Cam groaned and turned to Maddie. “Well, it’s coming off. Now. We’re going to run to Fiona’s Pharmacy.” What the hell do you even use to remove that shit? Paint thinner? Rubbing alcohol?
“No!” Maddie wrenched her hand free. “I want it on! It matches my dress!” She twirled and the white A-line dress flared out, the spin making the red poppies blur together.
Cam rubbed the back of his neck, kneading the muscles with tense fingers. “Maddie, please. Do not fight with me tonight.”
She put a hand on her cocked hip. “Pedicures are one of the few luxuries women can allow themselves.”
“Oh my God.” Cam’s chin dropped to his chest.
“Woo!” Callie snapped her fingers in the air and held out a hand for Maddie to high-five. “You sing it, sister.”
“What happened to my sweet baby?” Cam said into his hands.
“Oh, darling…” Marty wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “It’s much easier if you stop resisting it.”
Cam looked at his mother, who squeezed him once more before releasing her hug. Something unspoken passed between them—a parent thing, he supposed. Or maybe more accurately, a single parent thing.
The sun was low in the sky, only an hour or so away from disappearing for the evening, and New Hampshire’s crisp air smelled fresh—like maple and pine. One of the many things he always loved about his hometown. The smell. The calming stillness that always rested in the air. “I need to drop you guys off first, and then I’ll go get Kyra.” Callie gave him a look, eyebrow arched. “What? It’s just a ride.”
“You sure that’s all tonight is for Kyra? You giving her a ride?” Callie looked skeptical.
“Of course,” he scoffed. “Why?”
Maddie bounded off, tripping over her new heels. Yanking the door open, she crawled into the backseat.
Callie shrugged and a look passed between her and their mom.
“No, tell me. What’s going on?” Cam demanded.
His mom opened the passenger side door. “Oh, come on, Cam. You know that girl’s had a crush on you for ages.”
“She used to. That crush ended years ago, I thought.”
Callie rolled her eyes. “You haven’t noticed how she struts around you? Prancing around in all her pretty outfits? Poor thing has it so bad for you.”
Cam felt completely numb. Yeah, she was always a bit too friendly around him, but it was a childhood crush. Didn’t those things fade after high school? “Doesn’t she do that to everyone?” He shook himself out of it and looked to his mom, who was shaking her head. Crap. Just add this to the list of conversations he needed to have tonight. Climbing behind the wheel, he buckled himself in, looking at his mom in the passenger seat. “I’ll be kind. But honest,” he said.
“Good boy.”
“Is there anyone else I’ll need to pick up?”
“No, Ronnie and Steve will meet us there, and Noah—” It was his mother’s turn to sigh. She glanced in the backseat at Callie. “Well, you know how your twin can be. He probably won’t be able to make it up for the event.”
Oh, Cam knew how his baby brother could be alright. A selfish ass—and that was on his good days. Not that Cam expected his entire family to drop everything to come for Maddie’s event—but it was almost the two year anniversary of his wife’s death. Not to mention, Cam had only seen Noah once in these two years—at this year’s past Father’s Day dinner. He hadn’t even made it to Hannah’s funeral. No, his littlest brother—the most infamous Tripp—was certainly not going show up this weekend. That was his tradition, after all. Screw up and apologize for it after the fact.
*
Lydia shuffled through the doors of the public library just before five-thirty. Her delicate watch fell down her wrist, catching at the base of her hand, and she shuffled it back into place. It wasn’t the most ideal time to do some research, but she doubted that she would be able to slip away from Maddie tomorrow. Mara’s connection to this town was far too big a coincidence to ignore.
“May I help you?”
Lydia twirled, a gasp strangling in her throat. “You startled me.”
“Sorry.” The man shrugged two large shoulders to his ears. His almost black hair was thinning on top, but he still managed to run enough product through it to ensure it gleamed under the dim library lights. A gold chain hung around his neck and nestled into a tuft of dark, coarse hair on his chest. His button-down shirt was open to about the middle of his sternum, where the slightest movement threatened nipple exposure.
He didn’t look like he belonged in a library—and certainly didn’t appear as though he came from this town.
A weak smile trembled across her lips, and as she took an instinctual step back, her heel caught in the gray carpet and she stumbled, falling forward.
His meaty hand jutted out, and he caught her elbow. “Whoa. Careful there, sweetheart.” He smiled and his dark brown eyes creased with the grin. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Joey.” His accent was all Jersey with a twinge of mob, and he ran a palm across his slicked hair.
“Er—hi, Joey.” Lydia looked around the library for a sign of someone—anyone—who might hear her screams if she needed the help.
“I’m the librarian here,” Joey continued. “So, if you do need anything, I’ll be right over here.” He pointed behind himself with a thumb and clicked his tongue.
“You’re… the librarian?” Lydia’s mouth fell open and though it was rude to stare, she couldn’t help it. There’s no way this guy worked here… he had to be lying. She folded her arms and arched an eyebrow in his direction. “If that’s so, then tell me—using the Dewey Decimal System—where is the sports section?”
Joey’s mouth twitched into a smile, and he mimicked Lydia by crossing his arms, resting them on his belly. “Sports are classified in section seven-ninety-six.” His tiny smile stretched into a wider grin and his eyebrows twitched, arrogance flashing across dark eyes.
“Damn.” Lydia dropped her arms to her side. “I wish I knew if that were correct.”
“Perhaps you want a folktale? That’s section three-ninety-eight. Botany? Five-eighty. Languages are in the four hundreds…”
“Okay, okay.” Lydia cut him off and rolled her eyes. “I get it. You’re the librarian.”
“Good. Now, what can I help you find?”
Lydia swallowed. The whole town was talking about her. She had no doubt that within minutes of her search on Mara, it would spread that she was snooping into the town’s past. “Joey… can you keep a secret?”
“Honey, I’m from Jersey. Secrets are what I do best.”
One pinky-swear and five minutes later, Joey had Lydia set up at a table with several yearbooks from Maple Grove High. She wasn’t certain of Mara’s age, but assumed her boss was a few years older than herself. Joey had found her the appropriate years.
After twenty minutes, she had flipped through three years with no luck. Stealing a glance at her watch, she realized she needed to leave for the Founders Dinner if she wasn’t going to be late. Okay. Just one more. Maybe she would get lucky.
Yanking the heavy hardcover yearbook from the top of the pile, she dropped it in front of her, the cover hitting the table with a slap. One could only hope that this town considered it fashionable to be a little late.
Flipping quickly through the pages, Lydia scanned the pictures in each grade—and sure enough, there she was. Yes, her hair was a little frizzier back then, and her clothes not as refined—but she was there. Mara Stein—or Tamara Walters, as she was known in high school. She vaguely remembered her boss talking about an ex-husband in the office… Stein must be her married name. Lydia snapped a picture with her phone… what the hell did Mara’s high school have to do with
all this?
Cam’s face flashed in Lydia’s mind. They went to the same high school. Mara went to the same high school as Cam. On a fleeting thought, Lydia flipped to the T’s. There, in the senior class, was Cam’s dimpled chin and full lips smiling back at her from the page. A tingly sensation shimmied down her arms and legs.
Lydia trailed a finger over the picture and couldn’t help smiling. He was so young. So carefree. Or so he seemed. At the beginning of the senior section, there was a picture of Cam with his arm around Mara, leaning against a Jeep. The caption below said “The Senior Class’s Cutest Couple: Cameron Tripp and Tamara Walters.”
Oh my God. Lydia’s blood ran cold. Mara and Cam had dated. Lydia snapped a few more pictures on her phone, then closed the books and carried them back to the shelves, making a mental note of where they were so that she could find them again. What the hell could have happened that was so important that Mara felt the need to ruin Cam so publicly?
Heat burned beneath Lydia’s skin as though lava had replaced her blood. Well, screw Mara. And screw the mean-natured story she wanted her to write. How dare she use Lydia for her own personal revenge. She would damn well write whatever story she saw fit, and Mara would deal with it.
She had to, Lydia thought with a smile, glancing at the new pictures nestled in the gallery of her phone.
‡
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ten minutes in the car with Kyra and Cam was ready to feign a headache and call the whole damn evening off. If only it wasn’t Maddie’s big night. Kyra was a sweet enough girl… for someone. Now that he knew she had a crush on him? It was like everything she did was spiked with the motivation to hook her little fingers into his flesh and not let go.
“…so then I was like, what do you mean you don’t have angel soft pink anymore? It’s the best shade of pink and the only reason I come to your establishment each week. And you know what they had the gall to say to me? That I could bring my own nail polish for my manicure. My own nail polish. To which I replied, I would be happy to, and in return would expect a discount since they were saving money on my manicure.”
“Uh-huh. Great,” Cam mumbled, only half listening at this point.
“So, anyway…” She looked down at her nails, inspecting them even closer. “That’s why this shade of pink doesn’t match my dress very well. It wasn’t my fault.”
“Yeah… I think it looks, uh, fine.”
“You do?” Hearts were coming out of her eyes as she stared at him with arched brows and flushed skin. And yet, nothing stirred in his heart. Or his body for that matter. He gulped and turned his attention back to the road.
“Um, yeah, sure. You know… nails and dresses and pink… they’re not really my thing. So, what do I know, right? But you look… nice.” She looked like Barbie on Adderall, but if he’d learned anything about women in his years on this earth, it was to never be honest if you didn’t like their look. Besides, what good would that do, anyway?
“So, you think the dress is pretty? Not too over the top?”
“Yeah…”
“Yeah?”
Shit. “I mean no. Yeah, it’s pretty…. no, it’s not over the top.” Cam swung the car into the parking lot, wanting to kiss the ground as he put it in park. “Well, we’re here.” He smiled at Kyra, turning the ignition off.
“Great.” Kyra gave Cam a wobbly smile and leaned across the parking brake. Ample cleavage threatened to spill out over the top of her dress. “Before we go in, though…” Before Cam could register what was happening, Kyra leaned across the parking brake and pressed her mouth to his.
“Oomph.” He grunted against her wet mouth as she moved over his lips.
“Kyra…” He pried her mouth from his. “Kyra—I think you got the wrong impression. I just thought I was giving you a ride. Besides, it seems a little irresponsible for me to date someone who works at Maddie’s school… you know?” Okay, so he was a chicken shit. He just couldn’t bring himself to tell her he wasn’t attracted to her. And what good would that really do anyway, besides hurt her and embarrass him?
Kyra fell back against the seat. “Oh,” she whispered and tugged the top of her dress higher. “I-I thought that maybe you felt the same way about me.” She looked around the empty car. “You know, you showed up just you, without Maddie or any of your siblings… I thought maybe you wanted to be alone.” She gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “Stupid, I know.” Her voice was small and tinny and made Cam feel like a pile of shit.
“I didn’t have enough room in the truck for all of you.” He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. “Any guy would be lucky to have you, Kyra.”
Her gaze shifted out the window, and after she inhaled a shaky breath, she looked back to him. “It wasn’t the nail polish, was it?”
He laughed and clapped a hand down onto her knee, shaking his head. What was it about women and manicures? “No, it wasn’t because of the nail polish. Let’s go have a good time tonight—as friends.”
*
Lydia paced in the back room where the private dinner was to take place, the camera strap pinching the skin around her neck and shoulder. She moved, taking pictures; the flash popped in the low-lit room. Maddie waved at her from across the room and was showing off her toenails and heels to another little girl who stood enviously by. Click.
“Oh, you poor thing… don’t you ever get a night off?”
Lydia spun around to find herself nose to nose with Cam’s mom. “Mrs. Tripp… Marty, hi. Unfortunately, no. Not while on assignment. Never know when that perfect moment will strike.”
“It’s such a shame you won’t be able to just enjoy yourself.” Marty patted Lydia’s arm. It’s amazing how Lydia could do such a similar movement to Maddie—and it felt stilted and disingenuous. But with Marty and the exact same motion, it was sweet, motherly, even to a perfect stranger. Just one more reminder that she wasn’t the maternal type.
“God, remind me not to interview for journalism jobs.” Callie scrunched her nose and took her mother’s elbow.
“Callie, please.” Marty rolled her eyes. “Manners.”
“What? I’m not saying it’s bad—it’s just not for me.”
Lydia smiled at Callie, remembering those days of undergrad when she had wanted nothing more than to travel the world, eating croissants and cheese. She wanted nothing to do with responsibility or accountability. But now—well, she was seeing the world—but it was work, not play. “What is for you, Callie?” Lydia asked.
Callie’s eyes glistened. “I like surfing. And sailing.”
Lydia almost laughed out loud, but luckily stopped herself. Surfing? In New Hampshire? Sailing made more sense, of course. “Uh, I meant… what is your major? You mentioned you were studying this afternoon.”
“Oh. Right… communications.” She shrugged. “It seemed like a decent degree to start with and it covers a lot of bases.”
Marty squeezed Callie’s shoulders in a side hug. “Callie’s still finding her path, isn’t that right?” The two exchanged a smile—Callie’s slightly more cynical than Marty’s—and her mother winked at her before kissing Callie’s temple. “Ah, there’s two of my other science experiments.”
Marty waved to a man and a woman entering the room. The woman stood taller than Lydia at about five-foot-six, with Cam’s dark hair, olive skin, and the same sparkling baby blues. Apparently, the entire damn family sported those eyes. The man had light brown hair and a tan and wore a suit that fit him to perfection. “Hey Ma,” he said and leaned in with a kiss on Marty’s cheek.
“Steve—this is Lydia. She’s the reporter covering our Maddie this weekend.”
Steve turned to Lydia and a smile lit up his face. A faded scar sliced down his face from his eye, ending at the base of his jaw. It wasn’t overtly jarring; if anything Lydia always found scars to be rather beautiful, especially in photographs. The texture and color gradation worked in either black and white or colored images. But what Lydia found to be beautiful in ph
otographs, many people considered to be flaws. And despite this flaw, he was handsome, the sort of handsome that reeked of a bad boy past.
Lydia took his hand and smiled. “Nice to meet you, Steve.”
“And this is my sister, Ronnie.”
Ronnie clasped Lydia in a firm but friendly handshake. Lean muscle clenched beneath her v-neck dress shirt, making Lydia’s meager three-day a week cardio regime pale in comparison.
“So,” Lydia said after the introductions were over. “I’ve now met everyone but Noah, right? The star of the family?”
Everyone quieted, exchanging glances before Marty finally smiled in a well-rehearsed way. “It would be a nice surprise to find out he was coming this weekend… but of course, he’s quite busy.”
“Uncle Steve! Aunt Ronnie!” Maddie padded over to them, leaving her group of friends behind. Steve scooped her up, smacking kisses all over her cheeks. She giggled and writhed in his arms.
He lowered her back down and Ronnie hugged Maddie as well, kissing her on top of her head. Maddie took Lydia’s hand, tugging her deeper into the family’s circle.
“Lydia and I are going to be pen pals, and Dad and I are going to visit her in New York.”
The family silenced and all heads snapped to Lydia. Even Marty was rendered speechless, her jaw hanging open.
Lydia’s was unable to move and she stared at Maddie with as much incredulity as the rest of them. “Maddie,” she started, not even sure what she was going to finish the sentence with.
“I take it from your face, you had no knowledge of these visits?” Ronnie crossed her arms over her chest.
Lydia held a hand out in front of her. “I don’t think any plans are made yet.” She glanced back down at Maddie, who was beaming up at her, heart aching for the girl. She had little hope that Cam would ever bring Maddie to visit her—even if he never found out who she really was—they were just from different worlds.
Steve was the first to speak as a grin tugged to his eyes. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, looking Lydia up and down. “The old grump actually found a woman to—”
Capturing You (Maple Grove Romance Book 1) Page 17
