by Kendall Ryan
Only problem is?
I’m not a Moore. I mean, sure it’s my last name now, but only because I was adopted by Barbara and Nathaniel Moore when I was eight.
Cam knows about my struggles to fit in with them. I love my adoptive parents, of course I do, and I know how incredibly blessed I am. But sometimes, especially on nights like this with their country club friends and all the showy excess, I’m reminded just how very much I don’t fit in.
When the valet opens my door, I meet Cam in front of the car, taking his arm and lifting my chin as we march inside like we belong here.
Mother’s perfectly cultured laugh, tinkling above the crowd, trails off when Cam and I appear in the doorway, so I know we’ve been spotted. Within seconds, both of my parents swoop down on us with stiff-armed hugs for me and icy smiles for Cam.
“Lovely to see you again, Mr. and Mrs. Moore,” Cam says with a manly handshake for my father, and a single beside-the-cheek air kiss for my mother. I have to admit, he plays the role well.
“We did hope you would bring a date, Natalie,” Mother says. She raises one penciled-in eyebrow. “Unless Camden is here in that capacity?” Her face quivers, as though she isn’t sure whether to hope for or against that possibility. Cam isn’t old money, but she might be getting desperate these days. I am turning thirty soon.
“Italy agrees with you, as always, Father.” I embrace him primly, ignoring my mother’s question. Best not to encourage her less-than-gentle probes into my personal life. “Ah, thank you, dear,” my father says, then looks over my shoulder. “Graham, welcome. Good to see you.”
Father has moved on to the white-haired man behind me, but Mother snatches my hand as I try to slip past her.
“Do not leave before we have a chance to chat, Natalie. We see so little of you these days.”
“Of course, Mother.”
I hate the way they can make me feel ten years old again, and wonder if it’s that way for everyone. One look from my mother is enough to reduce me to a juvenile—which is probably why I avoid them as much as I do.
Cam steers me to the bar.
Two fizzy champagne cocktails later, my jaw finally unclenches. I wander out to the back patio overlooking the rose garden, chatting with Cam about work and the ridiculousness of my parents’ parties. We lean against a wrought-iron railing in the golden glow of the gas lamps flickering over the travertine stone floor.
“That guy over there, the one in the light brown wingtips, used to look up my dress at these things.”
“Sounds like a charmer,” Cam says.
“And he married my number-one bully from prep school.”
“So, people in your circle tend to stay close to the ranch, huh?”
“Not my circle,” I say sharply. “My parents’. But yes, they do like to keep the money together. When it gets too incestuous, someone marries some minor member of the European aristocracy, or—very occasionally—someone from new money.” I knock back the rest of my third drink and enjoy the warm glow spreading inside me.
“Natalie, how like you to be hiding in the dark,” Mother says as my parents advance on me wearing determined looks. My father checks his watch.
“The roses are lovely this year.” My best defense is always deflection.
“Well, it’s terribly inconsiderate of you to make us chase you down out here, but that’s no matter.” She waves a hand, and the diamond tennis bracelet at her wrist sparkles in the gaslight. “When are you going to stop this silly little rebellious journey you’ve been on? You’re a Moore, Natalie.”
I open my mouth to speak, but my mother only continues.
“Not by blood, but you’re a Moore nonetheless.”
I have a hole in my heart that my adoptive parents will never understand, and a need deep inside me to prove myself, to make my own way. I love them, I really do, but it doesn’t change who I am, and it definitely doesn’t change my almost desperate need to make something of myself so I’m not just the poor little castoff from a teen mom. I don’t think it’s something they’ve ever understood.
“We have been more than patient, but you really must get serious about your life, Natalie,” Mother adds.
I raise both brows as I meet her gaze. “I thought having a degree and a career was generally how one accomplished that?”
“You know what your mother means,” my father says. “Most of your friends have at least one child by now.”
Ah, pointing out how I’m still single and childless. Super helpful. “By which you mean most of your friends have grandchildren, and you want me to keep up. My friends have more to think about than breeding.”
“Obviously.” My mother sips her champagne and eyes Cam’s tie.
“Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?” Heat rises up my neck and makes my throat feel tight.
Mother’s tone softens. “We miss you, dear. That’s all. You can be just as fulfilled with charity work. And then you can spend next summer with us in the Alps.” This is all code for Come meet the right sort of European aristocratic man to marry and have little trust-fund babies with.
“My career is important to me, and I’m doing good work.”
“But you don’t need to.” My father looks truly perplexed. Men in his world work, and women get expensive degrees they never use.
“It’s like you two don’t even know me.” My stomach twists, and a full-body shudder rips through me. “What good is all of this if I’m unhappy? I like my life. I don’t want yours.”
Anger shoots through me, and Cam lays a warm hand on my back. But I’m not done.
“This is my life, Mother. I get to live it the way I see fit. I’m happy.” Well, sort of. The truth is, I’d love to meet someone, but it just hasn’t happened yet.
“That’s all we’ve ever wanted for you, Natalie, is to be happy.” My father’s brow creases in confusion, and now I feel like a total jerk.
Cam steps forward and lifts my mother’s hand. “So lovely to see you again, but you’ll have to excuse us. Natalie and I have plans later.” He shakes my father’s hand as my parents stare, and then he rescues me from the ivory tower. Or in this case, from the uber-expensive travertine patio.
He quickly leads me back through the party, hands his ticket to the valet, and places one arm around me on my parents’ front steps as the car pulls around.
“Where are we going?” I ask once the headlights come into view.
“Somewhere fun. It’s a surprise,” he says.
“Will there be people there?”
“Nope.”
Satisfied, I climb into the car and stare out the window at the stars. I hate that Cam had to witness that. Hate how I’m always at odds with my parents lately. Soon trees obscure my view of the stars, and I lift my head. Cam pulls onto a small gravel road, and I smile. A few minutes later, the car stops in front of the secluded lake at the far end of my parents’ estate. It belongs to the township, but only the families with grounds bordering the lake have access. Since it’s rarely used, we treated it like a private oasis up through high school.
“Wow, I haven’t been here in years.” I step out and inhale the earthy scents of fresh air and wet sand.
Cam comes around the car and grabs my hand as I exit.
“Me either.” He pulls me to the weathered picnic table my father once grudgingly purchased so we wouldn’t picnic on the actual ground, because who does that, right? With a flourish, Cam pulls something from behind his back and sets it on the table.
With a sigh and a moan, I flip open the pale pink box. “And doughnuts too? You are now officially my favorite person. When did you even get these?” I select a standard glazed to start and sink my teeth into the fried circle of pure sugar and carbs.
He laughs. “I just had a feeling about tonight. Bought these on the way to your house in case things went south.”
“You know me too well.”
“Your love affair with pastries isn’t exactly a well-kept secret.”
�
��Still.” I reach for another doughnut, cake this time, and sit on the table with my feet on the bench. When Cam settles next to me, I lean my head on his shoulder. “You’re a good friend.” Comfort and familiarity warm my chest at his thoughtfulness.
Around us, insects chirp softly, and a gentle breeze rustles the trees. It’s peaceful. And perfect.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
No one has ever asked me that. Everyone just assumes I’m okay with it all. That I’m not only perfectly happy, but also lucky to have been adopted by a wealthy family. And I was; I do realize that. But there’s more to my story, and somehow Cam knows that. In a lot of ways, he knows me better than anyone.
I swallow, emotion making my throat feel thick. “Yeah. I’m fine. The thing is, they’re not wrong, you know?” I say out of the blue, then polish off the last of my doughnut and lick my thumb as I stare out over the water.
“About what?”
“I want to meet someone. Get married. Have babies. Of course I do. I just . . . I haven’t met the right guy yet. That one who lights my soul on fire, someone who knows my likes and dislikes without even being told what they are, who would hang the moon if I only asked for the stars, you know?”
“I know. And you will. I’m sure of it. Now, come here.”
I scoot closer, seeking warmth in the evening chill. He hugs me close, and we gaze out at the horizon in cozy silence. After the tension of my parents’ party, being with Cam feels like a security blanket. He’s never asked me to change, to be something else. He’s never wanted me to fit someone else’s narrative. I have never appreciated the value of that properly.
The alcohol in my system slowly fizzles out except for a low-grade tingle over the surface of my skin. It’s no wonder Mandy wanted to date Cam; he has a comforting presence.
Cam seemed oblivious to her flirting after his hockey game, but who wouldn’t want to date a beautiful blond fitness trainer? I should definitely tell him.
Just as I’m about to, I decide that I don’t want to bring anyone else to our lake. I’ll tell him about Mandy some other time. I’m sure I will.
Chapter Seven
Camden
“Pass me the sausage?” Natalie asks, her blue gaze swinging over to mine.
For one brief moment, I fantasize that she’s talking about my sausage, or rather the sausage between my legs . . . then realize I’m being a fucking creep. Get it the fuck together, Cam.
I lift the lid to the pizza box and hold it open for her as she reaches inside to help herself to another slice.
“Thanks,” she says, happily bringing the slice to her lips and taking a small bite.
I swallow and force myself to look away. “Anyone want another beer?” I ask, rising to my feet to stalk to the kitchen.
“Hit me,” Jack says from his spot on the couch next to Natalie.
I take my time in the kitchen, lingering longer than necessary with two bottles of imported beer in my hands.
Tonight is a totally normal Saturday night for us. Beer. Pizza. Football on TV. So, why do I feel so out of control? Something has changed, and I need to identify what it is. Fast, before I do something stupid and make an ass of myself.
Pulling a deep breath into my lungs, I carry beer out to the living room, hand one to Jack, and settle in the armchair across from the couch. Natalie’s eyes are on the TV, and Jack’s looking down at his phone. I watch as Natalie peels a circle of pepperoni from the cheese and brings it to her mouth, chewing slowly. Then her little pink tongue darts out to taste her thumb, and I stifle a groan. She does the same thing with the sausage, popping it into her mouth.
I so do not have time for this. I’ve taken a vow with Jack, and I don’t give my word lightly. I pride myself on being the kind of friend who keeps their word. What would it mean if I just threw all that away for a piece of pussy? Plus, there’s no way in fucking hell I’m washing Jack’s dirty boxers for a year.
I scrub one hand over my jaw. Who am I kidding? Natalie isn’t just a piece of pussy. She’s the sweetest, kindest, hardest-working girl I know. And she deserves a guy who will worship her and give her all the things she deserves—love, marriage, babies, the whole nine yards. So, no matter how badly I want her, want to kiss her until neither of us can breathe, it won’t be happening.
“Has Ben asked about me?” Natalie asks.
I casually take a sip of my beer and wait for Jack to answer, hoping the answer is no, and then immediately feel guilty. For Natalie’s sake, I hope Jack doesn’t say something insensitive that will hurt her feelings.
“Haven’t seen him. He’s had the last few days off.”
Natalie’s gaze wanders back to the TV, but I can tell she’s not watching the game. She’s wondering why Ben didn’t say anything, why he hasn’t made plans with her during his time off. I remember back to our evening at the lake, and how small and sad her voice sounded when she admitted how badly she wanted to meet someone.
Jack catches me staring at Natalie, and I quickly glance away. “Crazy that Weston is engaged,” I say a little too loudly.
Jack eyes me again. This isn’t news. He’s been engaged for three months now. “Have you talked to him lately?”
I shake my head. “Not since he called to share the good news.”
We went to college with Weston Chase. He was a football god back then, but it was nothing compared to the outright pandemonium of becoming a pro-league starting quarterback. Unfortunately, he was drafted to Philadelphia, which means we don’t see much of him anymore. I can’t help but wonder about who the lucky lady is since he’s spent the last ten years being nothing but a player. The player has been officially played . . . by a woman.
I keep my eyes on the game for a few minutes longer, watching Weston complete a perfect pass that results in a touchdown. But the entire time, I’m aware of Natalie, aware of her presence in a way I’ve never been before. I’m acutely aware of the way she picks at her thumbnail and frowns when the other team gets a tackle. Of the way her ample chest fills out her knit T-shirt, and how small her bare feet look beside Jack’s.
And I’m more than a little aware of the stirring of my cock in my shorts when she brings her water bottle to her lips and takes a long drink.
I swallow and force myself to look away.
Natalie rises to her feet and begins gathering the empty pizza boxes and discarded paper plates from the coffee table.
“Leave it,” I say, rising with her. “That’s what Jack’s for.”
“Dick.” He smirks at me.
“I’m tired. I think I’m going to call it a night,” she says, ignoring me and carrying the boxes into the kitchen.
“You sure? It’s still early.”
Natalie nods. “It was a busy week. I’m just sleepy.” She places one hand over her mouth, fighting off a yawn, which I find strangely adorable. “You sure I can’t help you guys clean up first?”
“Positive.”
She picks up her purse and cardigan from the counter, and then crosses the room to place a kiss on Jack’s cheek. “’Night. Thanks for the pizza.”
“Have a good night,” Jack says, his eyes still on the TV screen.
When Natalie returns to the front hall where I’m waiting, I’ve picked up the empty pizza boxes and offer her my free hand. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”
“You don’t have to.”
“It’s dark.”
We do this every time. She stands her ground for a second, but she knows I won’t let her go out alone to the parking lot.
We head down the stairs and I toss the empty pizza boxes in the trash bin as we pass it on the way to her car. She clicks the button to unlock it, and the headlights flash once.
“You sure you’re all right?” I ask, stopping beside the driver’s door.
Natalie leans one hip against the door and gazes up at me. “I’m fine. Don’t worry so much.” She flashes me a sad smile, and before I know what I’m doing, I’ve pulled her into my arms for a hug.
I hold her like that—pressed against my chest—for a few seconds longer than is completely innocent, enjoying the feel of her soft curves against my body. Her scent is maddening, and I inhale as I hold her close.
“Cam?” Confusion washes over her pretty features when I release her and take a step back.
I swallow and take a deep breath. “Drive safe.”
As much as I want to deny it, I can’t hide from the truth any longer. I am full-on attracted to Natalie. It’s not like I didn’t know she was gorgeous, of course I did. I just never allowed myself to notice it. And now it’s like someone flipped a light switch on, because I seem to be noticing every last thing about her. The way she eats, the sound of her laugh, the way she moves . . . and worse, I’m getting turned on by her with every little thing that she does.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I want to punch myself.
Only once Natalie’s driven away do I go back inside.
I don’t even wait to hear what Jack says to me about the game because I march straight into my bedroom, closing the door behind me. After locking the door, I shove my jeans and boxers down, freeing my aching cock, and give it a long stroke.
A breath shudders through me. With the scent of Natalie still lingering on my skin, I pump my cock in quick, efficient strokes, forbidden desire rushing through my veins. Shouldn’t be doing this.
Shouldn’t want her this way.
But when I picture the way her lips parted on a breath, remember the way her hands felt on my skin during that massage—that’s all it takes. I’m grunting out a curse as my fist moves faster, my release coming hard and fast. Catching the thick spurts of come in a wad of tissues, I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. I’m breathless and still horny, and really fucking confused.
The only thing I’m certain of is that there’s something very wrong with me. Because you don’t jack off to thoughts of your best friend while your other best friend, who you’ve signed a blood oath of celibacy with, is in the next room.