by PE Kavanagh
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Collecting Secrets
PE Kavanagh
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Thank you
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also By
Excerpt from Coming Home
COLLECTING SECRETS
Copyright © 2018 PE Kavanagh
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For information contact : Pascale Kavanagh
http://www.pekavanagh.com
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Cover designed by Olivia Pro Designs and Bliss Designs
E-book ISBN: 978-0-9994679-4-7
Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9994679-5-4
* * *
First Edition: February 2018
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
For Bear,
whose relentless dedication to research
ensured that I get a particular type of scene
just right.
Chapter 1
This was not the first time Camille had looked foolish, but it might have been the first time she didn’t care. Unable to find her room key or hold back the torrent of tears, she plunked down onto the ugly hotel carpet in front of her door and sobbed, loud and hard. With nothing but the back of her hand to wipe away the tears and snot, the scene quickly escalated from tragic to gruesome.
Heartbreak was no stranger. But this break-up was beyond humiliating. How dare he? She had given him everything and he claimed it wasn’t enough. He’d stood in the cold marble lobby and yelled at her. Accused her of cheating. In front of everyone.
Humiliation mingled with anger and desperation, halting any effort to pull herself together. They’d flown across the country to attend this wedding and now she’d be conspicuously dateless in a room full of happy couples. She tried to take a breath and choked on a new wave of tears.
A soft crush of footsteps stopped in front of her, but Camille had no interest in lifting her head off her knees to look.
“Hey, Cam. What’s wrong?”
She knew that voice, as well as the gentle stroke of his hand in her hair.
“Camille. You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
His worry pierced through her pain and, with great effort, she tilted her head up to see her best friend’s face inches from hers.
His eyes flashed to fear. “Camille! What happened? Are you okay? Talk to me!”
It took so much energy to form words. “Calm down, Jack. I'm okay.”
“You don’t look okay. Did something happen with Charlie? Where is he?”
The questions were coming too fast for Camille’s throbbing, blurry head. “He dumped me.” There, she said it. Out loud.
The line of his lips flattened and his breath growled. Rage filled his expression. “That mother fu-”
Camille shook her head, trying to regain her composure. “We flew all the way here and that bastard couldn’t even wait one more day.”
Jackson’s mouth softened. “I'm so sorry.” He rubbed his thumb across her cheek.
She looked into the warm brown eyes of her closest friend, the man who’d been like a brother for the past ten years. This was how she knew him best – kind, caring, and sweet. She didn’t care how the world saw him. She had gotten to know the real man.
“Let’s get you up and into your room.” He slipped his long arms under hers and stood her up. She fell into his broad chest, melting into the arms that enveloped her.
“Where’s your key, love?” he whispered into the top of her head.
She mumbled into his chest. “I couldn’t find it.”
Keeping a firm grip around her with one arm, Jackson dipped down to pick her purse up off the ground. “Can I take a look?”
“Of course.” She had no secrets from him.
She winced when he had to unlock his arm from her waist to search through her purse. Of course, he knew exactly where she would have put the key: in the smallest zippered pocket.
He waved it in front of the magnetic pad and the loud click confirmed his success.
As expected, the room had been cleared of all Charlie’s belongings. His compulsiveness would have prevented him from forgetting anything. Camille stepped away from Jackson to look around, hoping to find a belt, or a tie, or even a tube of shaving cream. Any excuse to contact him again. But there was nothing, not even a stray hair.
Charlie had almost snuck out without her knowing. If she hadn’t had to leave the restaurant to go to the bathroom, she would never have seen him, bags in hand, striding across the lobby.
Jackson stepped in front of her, halting her examination of the room, and began wiping her eyes and nose with a tissue.
“I'm a mess.” Only the slightest tinge of self-consciousness colored the moment. This was who they were and had always been. He pressed the tissue across her nose and she blew, like a small child.
“No, Cam. You’re just hurting.” He balled up the tissue and flicked it into the small metal bin to his right. “I know you’re upset, love. But, personally, I'm glad he’s gone. He was never good enough for you. And he reinforced his complete lack of class by doing this here. I mean, he couldn’t have ended it before flying to Chicago with you?”
Camille dropped her head, another rush of tears pressing against her eyes.
His broad palms cupped her face, tilting her up to look at him. “Hey, hey, Cam. He has no idea what an amazing woman you are. There are better things in your future. I know it.”
His shoulders lifted as he took a deep breath. Something about the look on his face locked her attention on him. When he touched his lips to hers, a first in their relationship, a tiny spark of surprise jolted her awake. When he pressed in, more deeply, passionately and deliberately, gripping her and parting her lips, there was no question a line had been crossed.
A column of heat filled Camille’s body as his mouth explored hers. She could not have imagined anything as wonderful as that kiss in that moment. Until she remembered to whom that mouth belonged.
She pushed him away and covered her mouth with the back of her hand. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Jack… what are you doing?”
He looked like a cornered animal, eyes darting, chest pulsing with quick, shallow breaths, expression frozen. “Cam…”
Her body began to shake. “Why did you do that?!”
“I… because… I…” He took two steps back and bumped into the desk behind him. “I'm s
orry. I shouldn’t have…”
Camille dropped her hand away from her face and stared at her closest friend. Her lips tingled. She did not like the feelings consuming her body. He was not hers to have in this way.
Jackson pressed his lips together briefly before speaking. “I messed up. My timing sucks. I'm sorry.” He stepped toward the door. “I'm gonna go now, okay? I’ll see you at the rehearsal dinner. I'm sorry about what happened today.”
After the heavy door clicked shut, Camille stripped off her clothes, released the tight bedding, and laid her body down. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the day.
She closed her eyes, avoiding the most obvious question and instead lingering on the least traumatic. What did he mean about his timing?
Camille threw off the blankets and grumbled. The last thing she wanted to do was get all dressed up and make nice with the large party assembled for the rehearsal dinner. As a bridesmaid, however, she had no choice but to attend. It had been a grueling day and not even burying herself under the covers for a couple of hours had brought relief from the double whammy. First, the tactless breakup, and then a surprise kiss from the one man from whom she would have never expected such a thing.
She hadn’t thought of Jackson that way since their earliest days, back when she had just entered Princeton. Of course, she’d had a crush on him. He had that effect on every woman he met. But when they built a relationship based on trust, respect, and friendship instead of sex, it felt exactly right.
He was a playboy, never without a glamorous woman on his arm, but her position as his closest friend was much more important and stable. She had no interest in being part of the temporary arm candy parade. But the kiss that lingered on her lips refused to be ignored.
The enormous wedding party was already seated when she arrived. All that hemming and hawing made her late.
Emma, the bride-to-be, scurried to meet her. “Cam, I heard what happened. I’m so sorry sweetie. Are you okay?”
Camille didn’t want her bad news to affect her friend’s wedding celebrations. “I’m perfectly fine, Em. It was for the best. And we’re here to celebrate you, anyway. Nothing sad today!”
Emma gave her a crooked smile. “Okay. But you let me know if you want to talk.”
Camille forced a grateful smile. “Sure will.”
She scanned the length of the immense rectangular table for her seat. It should have been easy to find: two empty seats next to each other. But the only opening was next to Jackson. He stood up abruptly as she approached the table. His chivalry did not make up for the fact he had clearly altered the seating arrangements.
He pulled out her chair and slid her into place. “You look beautiful, Cam. As always.”
She couldn’t look at him. Why wasn’t he keeping his distance after their awkward moment? And where was his date? She could have sworn she was supposed to have arrived that afternoon. “Where’s Anya?”
“She’s not coming.”
Camille spun around to glare at him. “What?!”
“I asked her not to come. She’s shooting in Europe next week and I told her she’d probably be bored hanging out with all these people she doesn’t know. It was never that serious, as you know.”
Rage burned in her chest as she hissed out her response. “Are you kidding me? You disinvited her the day she was supposed to get here? You’re no better than Charlie. Why would you do that?”
“I did it for you, Camille.”
Jackson’s calm deliberateness stood in stark contrast to the ruckus in Camille’s body. If it wouldn’t have caused a scene, she would have pushed away from the table, marched to her room, and spent the rest of the evening under her covers. She could not understand what had happened to the world around her.
Each course of the dinner, as delicious as it was beautiful, including a wonderful French plum tart, did nothing to counter the bitterness coating Camille’s tongue. She had successfully kept her eyes straight ahead and her attention anywhere but to her left. As soon as they were excused to the lounge for after-dinner drinks, Camille made sure to put as much space as possible between herself and Jackson. But everywhere she looked, he was there, watching, with a look in his eyes that screamed nothing she wanted to hear.
She was swirling the olive in an untouched martini when her best friend Jenna found her. “Jack told me what happened today.”
She couldn’t believe he had told his sister about the kiss.
“I’m sorry Charlie hurt you, but I’m glad he’s gone. He was a Grade A asshole. Good riddance, I say. So let’s drink to that!”
“Jack told you about Charlie? Did he say anything else?” Camille took an overly large sip of her drink as she tried not to panic.
“Not really, no. Was there something else?”
Camille didn’t want to lie to her friend, but this was not the time to get into it. “No, Jenna. Just that.”
“We’re all here for you, Cammy. You know that. And your date will now be the most handsome guy in the room.”
Camille shivered. “What?”
“Jack. He’ll be your date now. And nobody loves you more than he does.”
Camille willed her face to stay calm. “Jenna-”
“I’m a close second, I know. Go have fun with my brother and forget all about that loser, Charlie.”
Camille clinked the glass Jenna held up, then wiped out the remainder of her martini.
Chapter 2
Ten Years Earlier
Camille dragged her enormous suitcase down the long hallway of her freshman dorm. This was the first day of her new life, far from home, officially on her own. Princeton University was where the new, better Camille would be created.
She tripped into her room, too busy checking the numbers on the doors to notice the gap in the old wood floors. A shockingly pretty girl sat on one of the small beds and looked up from her phone, startled.
“Hey!” Her smile lit up the room. “I'm Jenna. I guess we’re roommates.”
The first thought through Camille’s mind was how could she be so unlucky to have the most beautiful girl in school as her roommate. The second thought was that it would be impossible to hate her.
“My name’s Camille.” She put out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Jenna popped up, took Camille’s arms, and pulled her away from the doorway. “Watch out!”
Two men, hidden behind stacks of boxes, stumbled into the room.
“Guys! You almost ran over my new roommate! Could you be more careful?”
When the men put their boxes down, the offenders came into full view. The first one nearly knocked the breath from her body. Certainly the hottest guy she had ever seen in person. Like a sexy gladiator after a fashion makeover who’d been transported through time to her dorm room.
“Jen, you must be kidding. We’re slaving away, carrying all your shit while you sit there on the phone, and you’re yelling at us?”
Jenna went over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Sorry, Jack. You’re the best. I mean it.”
The other one cleared his throat.
“You too, Justin.” She stood between them and put one arm around each. “Camille, these are my favorite people in the whole world. My big brother Jackson, and my baby brother Justin. Guys, this is my roommate and soon-to-be best friend in the world.”
Camille forced herself to stop staring at Jackson’s square jaw, perfect ebony hair, and bright white smile. She had to pull it together. “Hi guys. Nice to meet you. Most people call me Cammy.”
Jackson shook her hand. “Cammy it is, then.”
So entranced by his large hand and broad shoulders, she nearly missed the small wave from Justin. The guys headed out of the room, grumbling about all the boxes.
As if nothing had happened, Jenna turned her attention back to Camille. “Where are you from, Cammy?”
“San Francisco.”
“Holy shit! Me too! I didn’t think there were that many west-coasters here. What are t
he chances?”
Camille nodded. “And your brothers came all the way across the country to help you move? That’s amazing.”
“Actually Jackson lives in New York. He’s a grad student at Columbia. A real smarty pants. And I think my parents bribed Justin to come out. My other brother Julian was too busy with school, but I'm sure you’ll meet him eventually too.”
An impression formed in Camille’s head: Jackson, Julian, Justin and Jenna. This sounded more like a cult than a family.
“Is your family here too?”
Camille didn’t want to bring out the tragic story just yet. “Ummm, they’ll be here… later.”
“Cool.” Jenna returned to her phone.
When Jenna’s parents strode into their room, the whole picture snapped into place. Her mother was an older, more elegant version of Jenna - tall, slender, meticulously dressed with a head of blonde hair in a shade you just couldn’t buy. Her father had dark hair and eyes, just like Jackson, and was nearly as handsome. Camille wondered if they were the poster family for her Ivy League school.
“Hello, you must be Jenna’s roommate.” Her mother even sounded beautiful.
“Yes, ma’am. My name is Camille.”
“Oooh, what a lovely name. Reminds me of romance, and Paris, and-”
Her husband interrupted. “Darling…”
“Right… I'm Elena, Jenna’s mom, and this is Jonathan, her dad. I think you met the boys already?”
“Yes, I did. Nice to meet you all.”
Jenna addressed her parents. “Cammy is from San Francisco too! Can you believe it?”
“Well, that’s quite extraordinary. You two can pine for the Bay Area together.”
