Someday Soon

by Janelle Taylor

  What are you afraid of? she asked herself. Tyler’s father? He can’t hurt you now. He knows you have no interest in bringing Tyler back so that he can be exploited.

  She was still sitting there when Missy strolled into the foyer, her eyes searching the room as if she were looking for someone before her gaze fell on Cammie. To Cammie’s intense dismay, she strolled over to her. “So, what are you doing here?” she asked. “I thought you were staying with Jerry.”

  “I am,” Cammie admitted, wondering how long she needed to make polite conversation before she could lam out of the hotel. She did not want to discuss Ty, or Jerry, as the case might be, with his ex-girlfriend.

  “Ahhh…” She touched a finger to the corners of her mouth, examining her lipstick. “Are you having lunch?”

  “No, I was just—looking around.”

  “Then have lunch with me,” she pressed. “I’ve really got some things I want to talk about with you.”

  “With me?” Cammie stalled. She didn’t want this. No, no, no!

  “Please…” she begged. “Jerry’s a great guy, but there’s some things, you know?” she added ambiguously.

  Cammie was intrigued in spite of herself. This woman knew the Ty of the last ten years better than most. Hating herself a little for her prurient interest, Cammie accepted the invitation. Besides, it was better than going back and facing Ty again, right now. She still hadn’t gotten over that comment from yesterday, after their frantic and wondrous lovemaking. She’d just begun to think she was safe when he’d uttered those bone-chilling words: Have we done this before?

  Of course she’d denied it. She’d pretended to be at a total loss, calling on acting skills she’d thankfully kept honed. She’d even gone on to ask him what he’d meant by that, and Ty, either because he was less guarded because of what they’d just shared, or because he was reeling with memories as she was, memories he hadn’t known he possessed, chose to be completely candid.

  “I feel like we’ve made love before. The way you pulled me close and kissed me just now, at the end…” His voice trailed off as his gray eyes studied her flushed face closely. Luckily, her color could be put down to exertion rather than emotion, and Cammie acted as if she were amused and flattered rather than scared spitless, which was her true reaction.

  “When we were kids?” she teased, letting him see how ridiculous the idea was.

  “No.” He rolled away from her, staring at the ceiling in hard thought for a few seconds before shaking his head dismissively.

  And as soon as that disaster was avoided, Cammie suffered a wash of humiliation as she considered the little love words and moans that had issued past her lips. Had she told him she loved him again? She’d struggled so hard not to, even while the phrase sang from her heart and filled her head. But she’d made other sounds, small mewls of pleasure that had climbed to near howls, that made her want to cover her head and hide in embarrassment.

  Still, pledging her love at the height of ecstasy was the worst, and she seemed to have avoided it, at least that time.

  And they’d made love again. This morning. And several more times during the night before. She’d been in a little better control after their first endeavor, and although the experience had been no less enjoyable, she’d at least managed to keep a cooler head. Ty, too, for that matter. The first time, they’d reached for each other like they were drowning for each other’s love; the second, third, and fourth times, they’d been less desperate and therefore Cammie felt a bit safer about the whole thing.

  Safer? That was a laugh. She was out of her league and she knew it. There was no feeling safe with Ty; her emotions were too intrinsically wrapped up in everything about him.

  And now she was treading into another treacherous place by allowing herself to share a meal with Missy. She was completely, utterly nuts.

  They were seated at a table near the window, just a few down from where she and Ty had eaten dinner the night before. Cammie’s eyes kept straying to the currently vacant table, and her thoughts were distracted by bits of remembered conversation and mental images of her body wrapped up with Ty’s…

  “I saw you come in here,” Missy confessed, disconcerting Cammie to the extreme. “I thought maybe you were already getting something to eat. What were you doing?”

  “As I said, just looking around.”

  “There’s not much to see,” Missy pointed out. “It’s just a kind of boring hotel.”

  “Hardly boring,” Cammie protested in spite of herself. “It’s really beautiful here.”

  “Well, maybe when you’ve lived somewhere all your life, you don’t see it that way.” She shrugged. Today she wore a red dress that looked out of place in the casual atmosphere of the place. It was almost as if she wanted to be noticed. Cammie had always erred on the side of understatement, in her dress and her manner, and she always felt slightly embarrassed for those who didn’t, even though they clearly wanted to create the very impression she found so uncomfortably obvious. Cammie herself wore black slacks and a blue collarless cotton blouse. She’d tossed her hair in a quick knot at the base of her neck; now loose strands were escaping from it. Compared to Missy’s primped and sprayed blond curls, Cammie knew she looked underdressed. Still, Missy’s choice of dress was almost out of place and contrived in the comfortable surroundings of the Goosedown Inn, while Cammie could have stepped out of the pages of Martha Stewart’s Living.

  Which didn’t mean Missy wasn’t attractive, Cammie conceded, looking at her from a purely adversarial position. They were just two very different people with very different backgrounds, and, in the long run, when it came to Ty’s affections, there was no real certainty that she, Cammie, would win. After all, Missy lived here in Bayrock, while she was a vagabond, at least at the moment, a displaced Hellywood actress, which counted for less than nothing in Ty’s eyes.

  Which was depressing, to say the least.

  “So, how long are you staying for?” she asked.

  “I’m not really sure.”

  “Don’t you have a job, or something?”

  “Not currently,” Cammie admitted. She was glad this girl didn’t appear to recognize who she was. Having to explain how a television actress would be such close friends with Jerry Mercer might be a little difficult. “What do you do?”

  The waiter came and Missy ordered a wine spritzer. Cammie settled for a diet cola, which made Missy’s lips delicately curl in disgust. “I work at Rodeo Bob’s, just outside of town when you’re coming in to Bayrock? It’s a steakhouse. Country western, you know. I’m the manager when Corky’s not there.”

  “Corky’s the owner?”

  “Oh, no. Jerry’s the owner.” She smiled at Cammie as if she were dense. “My goodness, you don’t know that much about him, do ya?”

  “Well, I know he’s into real estate,” Cammie said, forced into defending her association with Ty. She was surprised, though. Ty’s roots were deeper here than even she’d guessed.

  “Oh, Jerry owns lots of stuff. Property all over the place.” She waved an arm to encompass the surrounding area. “Corky’s just the manager. I’m the assistant manager,” she explained.

  “What other property does—Jerry—own?”

  “Well, not the Goosedown. At least, I don’t think he does.” She giggled. “He’s got a ton of money, but you probably know that.”

  Cammie smiled noncommittally.

  “So, how do you know him? His past is such a mystery.”

  “We were friends.”

  “He said you were sister and brother.”

  Cammie nearly choked on her drink. She hadn’t guessed that Ty might have talked to Missy in the past few days. “We were once stepbrother and stepsister, but it didn’t last all that long.”

  “And that was—where?”

  Her probing bugged Cammie, but she’d let herself in for this, hadn’t she? Hoping to learn something about Ty, she’d forgotten that she knew more than anyone here, and what she knew could damage her rela
tionship with him forever.

  “You and Jerry were lovers?” Cammie counterattacked, needing the space.

  “Well…” She smiled, running a hand through her hair and drawing a stiff blond curl across her lips. “Yes. Didn’t he tell you?”

  “Yes, he did, as a matter of fact.” Cammie relied on her acting skills yet again, pretending not to care other than simple interest. “But he didn’t say how you first met.”

  “Oh, that was when he was buying Rodeo Bob’s. I was hostessing then. Jerry walked in, and bam! It just hit me, y’know? I thought, my God, he’s so handsome. And he looks a little like that actor who was real popular once, Tyler Stovall. So I told him that, y’know,” she went on, oblivious to Cammie’s stiffening at the mention of Ty’s real name, “and he said he heard that a lot. I just bet. But he’s older looking and he’s got that beard, and everybody knows that actor was gay anyway.”

  Cammie couldn’t prevent a muffled exclamation.

  Missy picked up her wineglass, sipped from its contents, and eyed Cammie knowingly. “Well, it’s true. Jerry says so, too.”

  “Does he?” Cammie gulped down the rest of her cola and wished she’d ordered something stronger after all.

  “Sure. So, anyway, Jerry and I hit it off and started seeing each other. At first I sorta thought he wasn’t going to stay in Bayrock. I thought he might move on. But he’d been here awhile before we met apparently. Then he built the cabin, and wow…he owns tons of land. The old Richards place, and some timber land, I think. I don’t know. He doesn’t talk about it all that much.”

  “What does he talk about?” Cammie asked curiously.

  “Oh, anything, except his past.” She laughed. “He never mentioned you, for instance, until you showed up.”

  “I don’t think he was very happy,” Cammie said softly. “He’d like to forget it all.”

  Missy eyed her shrewdly. “I’ve got a theory. Maybe you can tell me whether I’m right.”

  “Don’t look to me for answers!”

  “There’s an ex-wife somewhere, and she’s nasty as a hive of hornets. She’d like nothing better than to sink her claws into him. At first, I was afraid she was you!”

  As Missy waited with avid interest, Cammie sought for some kind of answer. Clearing her throat, she inclined her head, hoping Missy would think she was betraying a dear secret. “I wasn’t that close to—Jerry—for a lot of years. You could be right. It’s only recently that it was possible to even get near him again. He likes his privacy.”

  “Don’t I know it!” she sniffed. “Sometimes he’s just a bear about it.”

  “I’ve seen that side of him, too,” Cammie admitted sardonically.

  The waiter came to take their order, but before Missy could choose, Cammie said, “You know, I really don’t have that much of an appetite. You go ahead. I’ll just have a—glass of Chardonnay,” she said to the waiter.

  “You sure?” Missy asked, frowning.

  “I’m sure.”

  That was the one thing Cammie was sure of: she could use a drink. Her nerves were shot. Except she couldn’t afford to loosen her tongue too much. Missy had a way of burrowing to the truth that put Cammie on edge, and if she could possibly have figured out a way to end this lunch date early, she wouldn’t have ordered the wine. But as there seemed no easy way to extricate herself without raising the other woman’s suspicions, she figured she’d just sip away at her drink, soothe her jangled nerves, and outwait Ty’s sometime-girlfriend.

  A change of air pressure, or some sixth sense that feathered across Cammie’s skin, caused her to shiver and glance around. Her heart nearly stopped. Ty himself stood a few paces away, his expression unreadable, his mouth drawn into a sharp line.

  Had he overheard her?

  “Jerry!” Missy called, waving furiously at him, as if there was any chance he could miss seeing them.

  Cammie swallowed and pasted on a welcoming smile. Ty shot her a glance, then strode toward them somewhat reluctantly. Cammie got the impression he was sorry he’d stumbled upon them together. For her part, Cammie could have sunk down beneath the table. She felt like a traitor, somehow, but Missy welcomed his unexpected appearance with obvious delight.

  “We were just talking about you!” Missy declared, patting the chair next to her. “Sit down. Cammie’s not having lunch, but I am. You want something? I’ll buy.”

  “No, thanks.” He accepted the seat a bit reluctantly, Cammie thought, since it put him in close contact with Missy. Cammie was almost glad he was on the other side of the table; she didn’t think she’d be able to keep her wits about her if he was seated next to her, his thigh millimeters from hers, the heat of his body close and warm. Their relationship had definitely changed and Cammie was still getting used to the shock.

  Missy chattered away, delighted beyond bearing that Ty had come within her circle again. She seemed to have forgotten her animosity over learning Cammie was his “friend,” at least for the time being, and instead used the opportunity to ply Ty with questions about what he’d been doing lately.

  “You know, I’ve been asking Corky what happened to you. You’ve been like a ghost around Rodeo Bob’s lately. I thought maybe you’d sold it, or something.”

  “I didn’t realize you’d diversified into the restaurant business,” Cammie put in.

  “I only own the property. Rodeo Bob’s is Corky’s brainchild. I’m basically a landlord.”

  “With part interest!” Missy declared. “Corky said you loaned him money!”

  Ty was clearly irked by all this discussion of his finances. Cammie didn’t blame him, but Missy was oblivious to his darkening mood. “That doesn’t make me a partner.”

  “Whatever.” Missy waved her hand, dismissing the finer points of financial ownership as undeserving of further discussion. Cammie knew Ty was just glad to have the subject change, whereas Cammie wondered how extensive his financial dealings were in this Canadian border town. It looked as if it wouldn’t be as easy for him to pull up roots as he’d first let on. Maybe her appearance was just an excuse for him to stay, which was fine by her.

  “What if I wanted to open my own place?” Missy asked teasingly. “I could use a partner.”

  Ty’s gaze swept over Cammie’s face before she averted her eyes. This was getting sticky, and she was fast becoming embarrassed for all of them. “I’m more of a solo operation,” he said not unkindly. “You know that.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way—forever,” Missy suggested on a murmur.

  Ty didn’t answer, which left Cammie with food for thought.

  Thirty minutes later, when Missy had finished most of her sandwich and Ty and Cammie could make a polite escape, Cammie stepped ahead of Ty through the Goosedown Inn’s front double doors, the oval, beveled glass mirroring their images in the soft afternoon light. Missy was right on their heels, still carrying the bulk of the conversation, but when Cammie and Ty began to walk in the direction of his cabin, she asked pathetically, “Mind if I join you? I’ve got nothing to do tonight?”

  Ty hesitated, and Cammie was afraid he was going to turn her down. “Sure, come on,” she invited, drawing a frown across Ty’s face. “We’ll make popcorn and watch TV.”

  “I’ll be right there! I’ve just got to pick something up!” Missy called, half-running across the street to her car.

  “Now, why did you do that?” Ty wanted to know as soon as Missy was out of earshot.

  “Do what?”

  “Invite her over. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to avoid being alone with me.”

  “You do know better,” Cammie reminded him softly. “I just didn’t want her feeling bad. She’s got a serious thing for you.”

  “And you think this is going to help?”

  “No.” She grimaced. “I just couldn’t leave her hanging like that. I know, I should have asked if it was all right with you, but she was so…”

  “Needy?” Ty suggested.

  “Yes.”
>
  He sighed and raked a hand over his beard. “Believe me, you’ll be sorry for acting like a saint,” was his strange reply as he linked her arm through his, much to Cammie’s delight, and they strolled back to the cabin, arm in arm.

  “So, after that, I wouldn’t let him come near me anymore,” Missy stated, her hand hovering over the popcorn bowl as if she’d just been hit by another thought. “I mean, he just wanted to make Jerry jealous, after all.”

  “Jerry” couldn’t help a small sigh from escaping his lips. His eyes were on the television, glued to it as if it held all life’s mysteries. In reality, he couldn’t remember what the name of the program was that they were watching. The whole evening had been interminable, and unless he could find a way to dislodge Missy, it was only going to get worse.

  For the better part of two hours, Missy had hinted about all the men who found her attractive, making certain that although she was sought after by a host of eligible bachelors, her heart belonged to “Jerry.” It made Ty want to crawl under a rock. He’d ended his abortive relationship with her several times, and only let himself be sucked back in by pure loneliness. But this last time, he’d ended the relationship once and for all, and he thought she’d gotten the message. From the onset, he’d been plain about his feelings on love and marriage, and though she’d acted as though she understood, he was now beginning to wonder.

  Cammie’s appearance in Bayrock had effectively restarted Missy’s campaign, apparently. And since she believed Cammie was somehow related to him, and therefore not a threat, she’d become all sticky sweet and proprietorial, and Ty was about to jump out of his skin.

  He’d warned Cammie, but she hadn’t realized what would happen. Did she realize now? he wondered, as he slid her a surreptitious look. She was curled up on the couch, her feet tucked beneath her in that thoroughly enticing way, her auburn hair pulled back in a loose ponytail while errant strands curved beneath her jawline. She was gorgeous. A drop-dead beauty. The kind of woman he’d made a practice of staying away from because, in his experience, the prettier the face, the bigger the insecurities. Any actress he’d ever dated was an out-and-out basket case. And Gayle, though she’d worked in production instead of in front of the camera, had turned out to be as messed up as any of them.