“Goodnight, Alexandra.” He stepped back a step, even though he wanted to walk over to her and pull her into his arms. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
She nodded and flashed him another soft smile, lowering herself into her car and pulling the door shut behind her. He waited until she drove off before walking to his Jeep.
How he wanted to kiss her. But friends don’t kiss. This was better. They could get to know each other in the correct manner, without allowing mindless lust to interfere.
Besides, he’d made a promise to God, and God had given him his heart’s desire — or, at least, a shot at his wish anyway. The rest was up to him.
He could only imagine what would happen if he broke his promise to God, though.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When Alexandra awoke the next morning, she launched herself toward the bathroom. After washing out her mouth, she stared at herself in the mirror. She looked like a ghost.
For the second day in a row, she’d woken up feeling horrible. Had she picked up some type of disease from the county jail? If she’d eaten something bad, it wouldn’t still be bothering her two days later. And other than coffee with Cameron, the only thing she’d eaten yesterday was microwaveable soup — “Oh, no!” she shrieked. “Dear God, no … it can’t be.”
After pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, she grabbed her purse and keys and charged out the front door.
She headed for the pharmacy down the street from her apartment building. “Dear God,” she prayed aloud, hoping he’d hear her pleas. “Please. I can’t be pregnant. Not now!”
Fifteen minutes later, she sat on the toilet seat in her bathroom, staring at a little wand. “Dear God, please … no …” she begged. As she watched the timer, forcing herself not to look at the tiny window until the time was up, she prayed some more. The timer sounded and she peeked at the window. “Nooooo!”
Falling to the floor, she covered her face and cried uncontrollably. It had to be Jonathan’s, even though she hadn’t slept with him since her night with Cameron. But Cameron hadn’t even been a month. No way could she already know she was pregnant, no way could she already be this ill.
“Oh, God, why now?” She alternated screaming and crying. “Just when I thought I had a chance at happiness. Why?”
But she couldn’t blame God. She had no one to blame but herself. She knew the diaphragm was unreliable; she knew she had taken chances. Though, she couldn’t remember the last time she had taken a chance with Jonathan. The last time without protection had been with Cameron. One of the worst side effects of drinking; you lose any rational thought of birth control.
She pulled herself up off the floor. “Oh, God. What would Cameron think of her?” And now she was running late. She rummaged through her closet, pushing Jonathan’s clothes out of the way. For never having any money, he always dressed well. His clothes took up ninety percent of their closet space. They screamed money. His mother had probably bought them as a bribe, coaxing him to leave her. Jonathan’s mother had always hated her.
Dressing quickly, she readied herself for her day with Cameron. Well, he’d only wanted to be friends, so she guessed he couldn’t be too upset.
As she pulled into Cameron’s parking lot, Alexandra sat for a moment, trying to dispel her thoughts. Should she tell him? No, she couldn’t. When the time came, she’d know what to do.
When she opened the car door, her stomach rebelled again. This was ridiculous. She hadn’t even eaten anything. She washed her mouth out with water from her Zephyrhills bottle and popped one of her Altoids into her mouth.
She knocked on the door and then waited, feeling guilty, as though he’d be able to discern she was pregnant just by looking at her. Why was she even following through with this? She started to turn to leave when the door opened.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he chirped. He flashed the largest smile she had seen on him. Although they’d only spent two evenings together, both times he had appeared rather sullen. This was a new side to Cameron. “Are you ready to learn how to surf?”
“Uh … no. I’ll just watch,” she reminded him.
Cameron left the door open and walked inside, leaving her in the foyer feeling misplaced. She didn’t belong here. She wondered what his mother would think of her. Mothers never liked her. A few seconds later, he returned, carrying a small nylon cooler, two towels, a blanket, and a bottle of sunscreen. He dropped them on the kitchen counter and then started to pack the cooler with snacks and drinks.
Alexandra looked over his shoulder toward the living area. “Is your mother home?”
“Yeah.” He grimaced. “But she doesn’t get up until around noon.”
Cameron took her hand and led her out the door, around the side of the house, and over the sand dune that was his backyard. She couldn’t even imagine what a place like this must cost, and he’d said that it was his.
When they reached the beach, Cameron spread out a blanket and two towels, then pulled off his shirt. God, he had a beautiful body; she had forgotten how well built he was.
He rubbed the sunscreen over his arms and chest and then attempted to reach his backside. He looked like a toddler trying to reach his back. His arms were so well built that there was no way he could reach, but he tried.
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Here, give me that. Isn’t that what friends are for?”
He smiled sheepishly, then turned around. Too cute.
Next, she took the bottle and proceeded to smear the lotion over her arms, legs, and chest. She could reach her back, but he looked expectant, so she squeezed an appropriate amount into his palm, then turned her back to him. Both his hands worked the lotion into her skin, and she had flashbacks of their evening together. How in the world could they remain just friends? How could they not? He certainly wouldn’t want her when he found out another man’s baby was inside her.
After they’d slathered their bodies with sunscreen, she lowered herself to the blanket, pulling him down beside her. “So, Cameron, since you have to dry before you can enter the water, why don’t you tell me what you do for a living.” She hoped he didn’t have any illegal ventures like Jonathan. Not that he would admit to them, but she doubted he did; he just didn’t seem the type.
He shrugged. “I’m a car salesman.”
“A car salesman didn’t buy a condo on the beach, a very nice motorcycle, and a completely overhauled CJ7.”
He ran his hand over his chin. “I dabble in the stock market.”
“Dabble?”
“My father taught me. Purchased my first stock with Google.”
She dropped her head in disbelief at that. “When it was first offered?”
He tilted his head. “Yeah. You know about stocks?”
“I know about Google. Know that anyone who purchased any significant amount of their stock made a fortune. My stepmother is extremely wealthy, and she had a lot of her money invested in stocks, so she was always complaining about them. So, you did well?”
Cameron turned his head and looked down the beach. “You could say that.”
Obviously, he was embarrassed. Or, he didn’t want to divulge how much he was worth.
“Hey …” She touched his shoulder to get him to turn his attention back to her. “I was interested in you before I even knew you had a condo on the beach. Don’t think I’m asking because I am looking for someone to rescue me from my pathetic life. I already told you that I moved out on my own free will.”
He tilted his head as if something she’d said surprised him. “You were interested in me?”
She released a long breath in exasperation. “Seriously, Cameron, do you think I get on the back of everyone’s motorcycle, sleep with every guy I meet. By the way, I didn’t sleep with you because I wanted to make my boyfriend jealous. I slept with you because I needed to feel something other than pain for a little while, and you definitely did that. That night … that we were together … I’d just found out that my father had died the previous eve
ning. I needed to work; otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to pay the rent, and I’d end up homeless again. And your coworker — Brad, I think you called him — was such a jerk. He had knocked over my tray several times and kept calling me toots, as though I were some old-time harlot. You stuck up for me. Then later, you were there again when my boyfriend didn’t show after I begged him not to forget me.” She took a deep breath but continued before he could interrupt her. She needed to get this all out. “Incidentally, not that it matters, but I never slept with him again after you. And I know you may not believe this … but I never did what we did before. You’re the first man I’ve been with other than him.” She looked down, embarrassed by her rambling. This isn’t what friends did.
Nudging up her chin, Cameron gazed into her eyes. “Are you still interested?”
Her heart pounded fiercely, and she gulped to clear the lump in her throat. “Yes.” She knew it was impossible for them to continue as more than friends, but she couldn’t help it; she was interested in everything about him.
Without warning, he pressed his lips against hers but pulled back quickly. “Me too. It’s time to surf. You coming?”
She shook her head and laughed at his lackadaisical response. “No. I’ll watch.” She’d just blubbered out all that had been inside of her for weeks, and his simple answer was, “Me too.” What did that even mean? Guys were so strange. But, she had a feeling that Cameron hadn’t intended for his response to be insensitive. His response had been just like he was, she realized. Easy-going and carefree. She liked that about him.
Cameron trotted off. Stopping when he entered the ocean, to make sure she was still watching, she assumed. After flashing his cute sideways smile, he waved and then disappeared into a crashing wave.
The morning was beautiful. She had never been on the beach so early. Only a few beachcombers walked along the water’s edge. Occasionally, one would stoop to retrieve a shell or other treasured object from the sand.
The crashing of waves against the beach and the constant squawk of seagulls was the only sound. Every time one seagull found a morsel of food, they’d announce it loudly to their fellow feathered friends, but then bellow when the others arrived, ready to partake in the rations. She wondered why the birds didn’t just keep their mouth shut when they found something good.
The irony of her thoughts hit her. She needed to keep her mouth shut. She’d have at minimum three months before she had to inform Cameron, maybe longer. Some women her size didn’t start showing until six months. In three months, it would be winter; she’d easily be able to hide a pregnancy in the cooler months. Was that wrong? No, it wasn’t. She would just attempt to discover if there was anything to their relationship before she spouted off, “By the way, I’m pregnant.”
Every time she looked to the Atlantic, she found him watching her. It seemed he was looking to see if she was watching him, or maybe he thought she’d run off as she’d done after their first evening together.
He was good. The waves were rather small, but he’d managed to catch a few. Finally, when it looked as though they were dying down, he rode one almost completely in and then fell animatedly into the surf. She couldn’t help but laugh at the one-eighty of his demeanor. He seemed happy, boyish even.
He walked up, holding his surfboard under his arm, then turned it over, resting it on the cooler.
“Come on,” he said, extending his hand. “Let’s bodysurf; anyone can do that.”
She accepted his hand but grimaced. If everyone could bodysurf, then she was an anomaly. He was in for a surprise.
Holding her hand in his, he led her beyond the breaking waves. When one threatened to crash into her, he placed his hands on either side of her waist and easily lifted her over the whitecaps.
He explained over and over where to stand, when to start paddling. He even held her and launched her into the water at the appropriate time, but she was hopeless.
“You weren’t kidding.” He laughed. “It’s okay; we can just jump the waves.” He pulled her into his arms as though he were holding a toddler.
Once again, her blood soared through her veins at the warmth of his chest against her body. “Cameron,” she started, looking up at him, “I thought you just wanted to be friends. Is this what you do with your friends?”
“Brad is rather heavy to hold like this, and he isn’t nearly as beautiful; though, he certainly thinks so.”
She glowered at him.
His face was pensive. “Do you want to be more?”
She did. But was that wrong? Suddenly, she didn’t care about right and wrong. Hadn’t she said she was going to go after what she wanted? Then again, that attitude had gotten her pregnant. Still … She looked up at his expectant expression. At his beautiful hazel eyes that looked almost gold in the bright sunlight. “Yes. I do.”
He kissed her again. This time, it wasn’t the kiss of a friend. His salty lips were warm and pliable as they worked expertly over hers. He pulled her body tighter against his chest as he deepened the kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, again reminding her of the sensual evening they’d shared.
He released a long breath when he finally retracted his sumptuous lips, then smiled down at her. “God does answer prayers.” She tilted her head in confusion but said nothing in reply. He smiled. “Good. I want that too. And if it’s not too bold of me to ask, can we skip right over that awkward dating game and you’ll be my girlfriend? That way I can keep my word that I don’t date?”
She moved her arms up around his neck. It felt good to be held by him. “That sounds like a plan, but doesn’t having a girlfriend mean you are dating?”
“Not the same thing.”
“Oh. Well, I haven’t dated much. A few guys in high school, and then the few times I’d broken up with Jonathan, I’d gone out with a few men. But I’ve been with him pretty much since I was sixteen.” Alexandra watched as Cameron’s eyes dropped. “Hey. What did I say?”
He shook his head in response. “That’s a long time. Are you sure you aren’t going to return to him when he gets out in seven months? Since obviously you’ve gone back to him before. You didn’t tell me that.”
“I’m positive.”
“How can you be sure? How will it be different this time?”
“Cameron, his lifestyle got me arrested. Never again. If I want to turn my life around, I can’t hang out with losers.”
As if what she’d said made sense, he nodded. “Then would you do me a favor? I don’t want this to sound controlling, but could you refrain from ever mentioning his name in front of me again?”
Her heart raced in her chest. No one had ever cared enough about her to be jealous. Jonathan had gotten mad when she’d left him, but he never seemed to care if guys hit on her. When she told him about the bartender flirting, he just laughed and said the guy didn’t stand a chance. “Sure, Cameron. That makes sense. I have no desire to talk about him anyway.”
Cameron released her, but wrapped his hand around hers, then led her back to the beach without saying another word.
They spent the remainder of the day walking on the beach, hands intertwined and then just relaxed on the blanket. They talked about everything from politics to religion. Cameron had packed a few snacks and water, but around eleven her stomach growled. She’d almost forgotten about her episode this morning and the fact that she hadn’t eaten breakfast. Now she was ravenous for food.
He laughed. “Hungry?”
“I certainly hope that’s what that was —” But then she blanched as she thought about her secret, as she almost uttered the words, Unless I have a monster growing inside of me.
After collecting all their beach paraphernalia, Cameron reached for her hand again, then led her back to his home. The casual gesture was so sweet, but spoke volumes, as if he wanted to connect himself with her in the simplest of ways. She couldn’t remember the last time Jonathan had taken her hand.
Enough already, she chastised herself. The two men were polar opposi
tes. Why in the hell was she comparing them? She tried to empty her thoughts and think only about the sweet and handsome man walking beside her, who wanted her to be his girlfriend of all things. Her, a girl who no mother had ever approved of — Oh, no.
She glanced at the time on her phone and her heart started racing. She pulled her hand free, knowing it’d get sweaty because of her nervousness. “Do you think your mother is awake? Maybe we should just jump in my car and go to lunch.”
“Why?”
“My friends’ mothers … they never liked me. I don’t make a very good first impression.”
He pulled her to his side. “Don’t be silly. My mother will adore you. She’ll be so ecstatic I finally brought someone home to meet her that she won’t even consider being impolite. She assumes I purposely don’t bring women home because I’m embarrassed of her. She can’t comprehend that I just choose not to date.”
“Used to not date, you mean,” she corrected him.
“Okay, used to,” he amended, pulling her to a stop as they rounded the corner of his building.
He lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers again. They felt so good, so right. Everything would be fine. What’s the worst thing that could happen?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cameron opened up the door to his condominium, allowing Alexandra to enter before him. The scent of peppers and onions permeated the air, barraging his senses. His mother hadn’t cooked for him in forever. Evidently, she’d received his note and decided to put on a good show for his mystery friend that he’d informed her would be stopping by.
He’d purposely failed to mention it was a female friend and definitely didn’t insinuate his guest was a potential girlfriend, as that had just been established mere hours earlier.
His only request was that she was awake and dressed at an appropriate time, not lounging around in her bathrobe, looking like the walking dead as she usually looked after a night of boozing. Unfortunately, her time in rehab had little effect once she returned home, no different from her previous visits.
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