“God, I hope so.” She fell against the pillows she'd just arranged. “I don't know if I've ever been so tired.”
“Get used to it, girl.” Carolyn eased the baby from Cam's embrace, returning her to her mother. “Tired is just another state of being. C'mon, Cam, let's go get some coffee and leave these two to bond.” She turned. “I'll send your hunk of a husband in after us.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
Over coffee, Camryn looked at her mother and blurted, “I was the other woman.”
Eyes the exact color of her own narrowed. “Knowingly?”
She shook her head. “I had no idea. He was the director, and I really thought I was in love with him.” She took in a deep breath. “I came home and found them together, learned I was the other woman. I just couldn't stay.”
Her mother's hand covered hers. “You're not a home-wrecker, Camryn. I know that, and so do you. He made the decision to cheat all on his own, and you were just as much a victim as his wife.”
“That's the worst part,” she said with a humorless chuckle. “His wife didn't care.”
Carolyn's brows went up. “Well, then. You still didn't know.”
“That doesn't excuse it.”
“It should.”
Even if it should, she couldn't forget that she'd slept with a married man. “I don't want to date for a while.”
“No one is pushing. We just want you to be happy, that's all.”
“I'm working on it.”
~*~
She was tired, but she had an obligation to Club Bleu, so she made her way across town and into Tyler in time for her set. The applause made her feel full, and she appreciated that might mean she had an addiction, but at least her addictions were applause and caffeine. She could live with those particular vices. She was changing out of her gold sequined dress to go home when she heard what sounded like a gunshot.
She ran down the hallway toward Theo's office, not stopping until she found him still in his chair, a hole in the middle of his chest seeping blood against the French blue of his shirt. Choking on a sob, she screamed for help.
“Are you okay?” Carter yelled moments later. “Cam?”
“I'm fine,” she replied when he walked into the room. “He's not.” She wrapped her arms around herself, aware she was shaking and unsure what to do. “Someone shot Theo.”
He gathered her into his embrace. “It'll be all right.”
Everything was wrong. “He's dead.”
He rocked her gently. “I know, Lark, I know.” He paused to brush a kiss over her hair. “What are you doing in here, practically naked, anyway?”
She'd forgotten she'd run down the hall in her underwear. “I heard the shot and wanted to make sure he was okay.” She took a breath. “Why are you here?”
“I was waiting for you.”
“Why?”
His gaze was warm behind his lenses. “It's what I do every night.” Camryn opened her mouth to ask him to elaborate when he pulled out his phone. “We need to report a shooting.” She zoned out as he talked to the dispatcher, soaking in the warmth of Carter's body. “Let's get some clothes on you, Lark.”
“Lark?”
“I was so scared when I heard your scream. When you didn't come out to your car when you normally do, and then to scream like that….” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “I guess I got sentimental and slipped into your old nickname.”
A man—her friend—had been murdered, but her heart kicked a little at Carter calling her a pet name. “I like it.”
“I'll remember that. Now, let's get you dressed before the police show up.”
They moved silently to retrieve her discarded outfit from earlier in the day, Carter giving her space while never really leaving the room. She was dressed when Officer Tiffany Morgan and Detective Brandon Davis arrived, and more than a little thankful for Carter's presence, even if she was still confused why he was there.
Detective Davis looked at her, disbelief apparent in his gaze. “You didn't see anyone, anything?”
“No. I was changing out of my dress, and didn't hear anything until the shot.”
“It doesn't look as though there was a struggle, Brandon,” Officer Morgan added.
The detective glared at the small woman who looked more like a Barbie doll than an officer of the law before asking Camryn, “Are you sure no one was out of place?”
She shook her head. “I might be here every night, but have very little interaction with the patrons. Simon left about an hour ago, so it was just Theo and me after closing. Whatever he was into that made someone want to shoot him, I really don't know.”
“Why would you think he was into anything?” Davis asked.
Why else would he be dead? “Someone murdered him!”
“Leave her alone,” Carter broke his silence. “She didn't see anything, doesn't know anything, and berating her won't get you anywhere.”
“Another frigging Everett,” Davis muttered. “Fine.” He directed his attention to Cam. “Don't leave town.”
“I have to be in Aylesford every day,” she explained.
Davis heaved a sigh. “Don't leave the area, then.” He pinned her with a hard look. “And please tell me there are no more Everetts after you to screw up my town.”
She opened her mouth, unsure what she intended to say when Carter spoke again. “I’ll pretend I didn't hear that.” He glared at the detective. “For now.”
Davis had the good sense to look contrite. “Let's think about the last few years and what Tyler and Aylesford have had to deal with. It might not be the fault of the Everett family directly, but there is no way it's all coincidental.” He made a noise. “Money brings enemies. You of all people should know that.”
Carter gave him a chin jerk in response. “I do, but I also know that if you treat Camryn like anything other than a woman worthy of your respect, we might come to blows.”
Davis's right eyebrow rose. “That's how it is?”
“Don't try me.”
The police did their police thing, the crime scene team looking for evidence, including checking Cam's hands for gunshot residue. She was happy to let them check, knowing there’d be nothing to find, but Carter's gray eyes behind his glasses were hard as steel. “You don't have to do this,” he whispered.
She held her hands out, allowing the tech to swab her hands. “I've never even held a gun, Carter, it's okay.”
“I know.” He watched carefully, then tucked her into his side. “We free to go?”
“Wait.” She held out a hand. “Someone has to lock up,” Cam protested.
“Do you have a key?” Officer Morgan asked.
She shook her head. “No. I don't really work here, just sing.”
“Every night,” Davis added. “We'll make sure the place is secured. Don't leave the area, Miss Everett.”
“I won't.” She was happy to get out of there, sheltered against Carter's side, but she didn't want to be alone.
“I'm taking you home,” Carter murmured against her hair.
“I'm at Haleigh's old house,” she told him.
“I know, Lark, and I'm not leaving you.”
“Thank you.”
They left her car and took Carter's, the ride quiet. He'd promised he'd have it taken care of, and she'd believed him and only half cared. She was bone tired, filled with sadness over the loss of her friend, and more than a little confused about Carter's treatment of her.
~*~
Carter drove quickly, his mind racing with things he wanted to say, things he shouldn't think, but instead of saying anything he kept his mouth shut. Camryn's night had been awful, and while he'd waited for her every night worried for her, he'd never thought something like this would happen.
“Why were you really there?” Cam asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
He fought with himself for a moment before deciding on the truth. “I've been there every night to look out for you.”
“Why?”
/> He watched her for a second, unsure what answer she wanted, and even less sure of the answer he was willing to give. “What do you want me to say, Cam?”
She sighed. “Why do you worry about me?”
God, he couldn't answer that question truthfully without causing more trouble. “I care about you.”
“As family?” she asked, head tilted and seeming genuinely puzzled.
Not even close. “Not exactly.”
“Then why won't you...” she trailed off, and he questioned himself just as she did. He'd made a promise years ago, but he'd been questioning it and himself every day for months.
“It's late, and you've had a horrible night,” he said to avoid answering. He pulled into the driveway. “And we're here.”
“I'm afraid,” she admitted when she slid from the car. “But we need to talk.”
“Not now.”
“I'll make a room up for you,” she said instead of rebutting.
He took the key from her shaking hand, unlocked, and opened the door. “I can take care of myself, Lark. You need to take care of you, and right now you're about to fall down. I'm not going anywhere.”
Her hazel eyes were clouded with an emotion he couldn't pinpoint. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
Chapter Four
Brandon Davis walked into his house, his shoulders tense and his jaw set. Another murder. This was getting old, and he really had no leads on this one. Camryn Everett hadn't seen or heard anything, hadn't pulled the trigger and was completely useless with regards to the investigation. It was worth noting she was with Carter Jamieson though, even if it just meant the pair were fucking.
Robin rose from her spot on the couch, a glass of Scotch in her hand. “Murder?”
He took the glass and a generous swallow before wrapping her in his arms, happy she no longer flinched when he held her. “Theo Richardson.”
“Drugs?”
“Not that we could see, but it's a possibility,” he replied. He shouldn't be talking to her about this, but she'd just begun actually talking to him, treating him like he wouldn't hurt her. After finding her with Haleigh Carlisle a few months ago, he'd taken her home and hadn't let her go. At first, it was because he could protect her, but now he couldn't imagine her anywhere else. It should've sent him running, but he'd changed a bit in the last few years. “Camryn Everett was there,” he went on. He'd already broken the rules, what were a few more?
“They are great people, but they manage to be in the middle of everything, all the time,” she said in a tone that made him laugh.
“I said as much, but not as nicely,” he told her. “Carter Jamieson was there with her.”
“Together?”
“Looked like.”
“Hmm... Wonder what her family thinks about that.”
Everyone knew the Jamiesons and Everetts were practically family anyway. “You think they wouldn't approve?”
“I don't know. Carter is much older than Camryn.”
He hadn't thought about that, and it made him wonder about himself. “I'm older than you.”
She laughed, the sound warming him from the inside much more than the liquor he'd sipped. “You're only three years older than I am.”
He wished he could kiss her, but settled for holding her close. She'd been beaten and raped not long ago, and he'd promised to let her make the first move. He held in a snort at his internal monologue. He sounded soft and desperate. “Good.”
“Bran?”
He looked down into her heart-shaped face, so glad she'd healed without much scarring. He shuddered at the thought and thanked Haleigh for the hundredth time for braining Robin's rapist with a frying pan. “Rob?” he mimicked her shortening of his name.
“I like when you hold me, but I'd like to do more.”
He swallowed. He hadn't been this nervous with a woman for at least twenty years. “I'm yours for the taking.”
~*~
Cam tossed and turned in her bed, images of Theo's dead body plaguing her. What could she have done? She sobbed. She'd been just down the hall and hadn't known anything was wrong. Hadn't known her friend was in trouble, being murdered. Murdered.
Knocking at the door pulled her from her thoughts. “Cam? Are you all right?”
“I don't know,” she answered truthfully, wiping tears from her face. “Do you think they called Simon? Surely he should know his brother is dead.”
“Can I come in?” he asked as he pushed the door open, a slice of light from the hallway spilling into the room. “I'm sure they notified Simon. That's not your responsibility.”
“Would it be awkward to ask you to sit with me?”
“I hope not,” he answered in a whisper as he crossed the room to perch on the edge of the bed. “Your bawling is making me crazy.”
This soft side of Carter floored her. “I think I'm finished.”
“You do what you need,” he replied. “If you need to cry, let it out. I'm here if you need me.”
At any other time, she might've made a witty remark, but this time she took what he said just as he meant it. “I need you to hold me, to promise it'll be okay.”
He wrapped her in his strong arms, settling her against his surprisingly muscled chest. “Everything will be all right, Lark. I promise.”
Snuggled against Carter, she finally felt safe enough that the exhaustion of the night pulled her under.
A few hours later she awoke still tucked into Carter's arms and took the time to examine the man. He hadn't put his glasses on before coming to her, and with his hair mussed as it was, he looked much younger than his thirty-five years. She sighed. That decade of age had kept them apart for years, and although he hadn't had to comfort her, to worry about her, to even be there last night, he had. That meant something, no matter what he tried to deny. She also wondered how he kept himself in shape because the man hid some serious muscles under his suits. Now, seeing him dressed in just a t-shirt and boxer briefs, she knew he'd added bulk since his law school days.
For a second she let herself imagine what it would feel like to lean over and kiss him, but she didn't act on it. It wasn't right to make moves on a sleeping man. That didn't make her any less attracted to him, though, and she was either going to have to get over it or get him on board. She smiled. When the time was right, she would use her powers for good. Her own good, at least—and hopefully his as well. Until then, she would be his friend, and right now she needed to know why someone had killed Theo. She didn't think herself in danger since she hadn't seen anything, but it might not be a bad idea to call her brother-in-law anyway. He might have his hands full with postpartum Cassidy and baby Emily, but he could make sure she was as safe as possible in her own home.
~*~
Carter feigned sleep as long as he could, wondering what was going through Camryn's head as he did. She'd been sobbing the night before, obviously shaken about Theo's death, and he hadn't known what to do for her besides gather her in his arms. The decision had been the right one, but it'd been torture for him holding her and knowing that was all he should ever do. When her fingers slid across his biceps, feeling the muscle for a moment before trailing to his shoulder, he had to make himself known or pin her to the bed and take what he wanted.
“Morning.”
Her hand immediately left his body, and he mourned the loss. “Do you work out?”
She was wondering why he didn't look like the nerdy pushover she remembered. He'd always stayed fit, but with brothers like his, he'd been the runt. Smart, but not particularly athletic. In a family full of athletes, he was the one who played competitive chess and was captain of the debate team. He was the caricature of a nerd all through school. He propped his head on one hand. “I've been learning martial arts with your brother.”
She laughed. “The doctor and the lawyer.”
“Caleb is the teacher. Mason and I are learning.”
“The doctor, the lawyer, and the banker?” She paused. “You're lifting, too.”
/>
“Gotta stay healthy,” he replied, aiming to end the conversation about his physique. “What do you say I make coffee?” he asked as he rolled away. It was morning, and he'd held Camryn in his arms all night. He needed to make a quick and inconspicuous exit before she noticed more than his muscles were hard.
She came down the stairs not long after, dressed simply in a pair of leggings and a long green top, looking fresh-faced and unbearably gorgeous. “You promised coffee?”
He slid a mug across the island to her, prepared how she'd been taking it for years. “Drowned in cream and sugar.”
She closed her eyes as she took a sip and he gave himself a mental kick. Drinking coffee should not be sexy. “It's perfect.” She studied him then, working a puzzle in her head for a moment. “How did you know?”
He shrugged. Admitting he paid attention to everything she did was creepy and inappropriate. “You've always murdered your coffee.”
“It's necessary, but I can't say I actually love the taste of coffee.” She flashed a grin. “My mother always said you knew you liked it if you took it black.” She let out a small giggle. “I guess I don't like whiskey or vodka either since I hate them without a mixer.”
She liked cola with her whiskey and cranberry with a twist of lime with her vodka, but he didn't say anything, taking a drink from his own mug.
“Yours is black, isn't it?”
“Always.” He took another sip and gave an exaggerated grimace. “You could buy better grounds though. Or better yet, beans.”
She eyed him. “You think I'd like it better if I did it your way?”
He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying something he meant but shouldn't say. “You might.”
“Teach me.”
He was going to draw blood biting his cheek, but he managed to keep it clean. “I'm a little fanatical.”
“Fanatical?”
“I always grind my own beans, and I've been known to roast them, too.”
She took another sip of her mostly cream and sugar brew. “I love my sugar.”
“You're drinking ice cream, Lark.” He stared into his mug, angry he'd called her a pet name again. He was venturing into dangerous territory, and he wasn't sure he could correct his course this time.
Ache For Me Page 3
