by Ronica Black
“Sure, it bothers me,” Cam said, surprising Blake.
She had to say something to bring herself out of her thoughts.
“I adopted the three of them together when they were pups. I’m all they’ve ever had, ever known really. They’ve been my constant companions, my best friends, my family. And then in walks you,” she said, looking over at her. “Someone they don’t even know, and off they go, without giving me a second thought. So, I can’t help but feel rejected in being so easily replaced.” She stroked Byron and lifted his chin with her fingertips. “You little heathen. You’re breaking my heart.” He wagged his tail.
“You know they aren’t rejecting you. Or replacing you. No one can do that. They’re just excited at having someone new around. Someone…different. And based on their overzealousness with me, I’m guessing that having someone else around is a rare occurrence.”
“That’s not true. I take them everywhere I can. They’re around all kinds of people all the time.”
“But what about here, in their home?”
“Sometimes, yes. I have friends who come by.”
“Who? Tomas?”
“Yes. And a couple of others.”
“What about women?”
“What about them?”
She smiled. “There hasn’t been any recently has there? Friend or otherwise?”
Cam averted her gaze again, but she could still feel Blake’s eyes burning the side of her face. That was nothing compared to the burning in her gut. The questioning had now officially become too much to handle. Cam stared into the fire, wanting desperately to get up and run out the door, to tear across the sand and into the sea where she could wade out without looking back, until the cold water was deep enough to envelop her and carry her away.
But she couldn’t take things that far. Not even in her mind. She couldn’t go back to that dark place. And even if she moved to run at all, even to just escape out onto the patio where she could inhale large lungfuls of salty air, Blake would notice and she’d wonder why.
So, she sat, staring into the fire, petting her dog, hoping Blake would lose interest or move on to another topic.
“There hasn’t been someone for a while has there?” The sharp edges of her voice had been sanded and smoothed throughout the evening, and this inquiry sounded like more of a quiet observation, one that she was careful in bringing up, rather than a probing question.
“No,” Cam managed.
And you can’t ask more.
Because I won’t be able to answer.
Cam drew a deep breath and checked her watch for distraction. “Is it time to check him again?”
Blake was silent for a long moment, but Cam didn’t dare turn to look at her.
“It’s a little early yet,” she finally said.
Another long silence stretched between them before Blake spoke again.
“So, what do you do, Cam? Do you go into work somewhere or have you left the mad world behind to retire here in this beautiful home on this beautiful beach?”
These were the very questions she usually made a point to avoid answering. She’d become somewhat of an expert at it, too. Skirting around the answers, giving as little information as she could and then leading people on to something else with distractions. Most accepted that or sensed her unwillingness to share the details of her life and let it be. Blake though? She was beginning to believe she wouldn’t let anything go.
“I don’t go into work.” She didn’t have to leave the house in order to do her job. “But I’m not retired, either,” she said, sipping her coffee. I haven’t been producing the past few years, but I haven’t retired. And with the way things are currently going with my newfound creative drive, I’m very hopeful I won’t have to for a long, long while.
“So you work from home? Or are you just independently wealthy?”
Cam wanted to return Blake’s playful smile, her mouth even twitched in an attempt.
“No. I’ve earned my money.”
“What do you do, then?”
I know she’s seen me coming and going in dirty jeans and work boots, carrying my tool belt. So she must know more than she’s letting on. Why the careful questioning?
“I mostly help friends and their families with the renovations on their homes or other projects.”
She nodded and sipped her wine. “But that’s not what you do for money.” She set her glass on the end table and pinned Cam with her penetrating eyes. “You said you didn’t have to leave home for work. So, that must mean the renovating you do, you do because you enjoy it and because you like helping people.”
“Yes.”
Blake waited, watching her closely. Cam didn’t give her any more.
“You’ve done an amazing job on your home,” she finally said, looking around. “Are you planning on selling and starting in on a new one?”
“No. I’m not going to sell. This is my home,” Cam said sternly.
The logs in the fireplace crackled and sparked, as if they, too, felt the effect of Cam’s tone. The largest piece of wood split, causing the others to shift and a wave of heat pressed into Cam’s skin as if to exacerbate her agitation.
“Is that how you got injured?” Blake asked delicately, like she was well aware of the dangerous ground she was now walking on. “Doing renovating work like that?”
Cam lost her breath. Pain, icy cold and sharp, attacked everything in her, rendering her mute and unable to move. The only part of her that seemed to be functioning was her heart and it was thumping, thundering, crying out in sheer terror and torture as the pain sieged it.
Cam sat with a death grip on a throw pillow, her thinking and breathing bordering on panic. Deep inside she was screaming for help, for a way out. But no one could hear her. They weren’t close enough, couldn’t see that far inside her. Not because they didn’t want to. But because she hadn’t let them. Wouldn’t let them.
She was alone.
Battling an unwinnable war alone.
Chapter Sixteen
“Cam?”
Cam heard Blake and the dogs rouse. Then, suddenly, she was at her side, hand on her shoulder, speaking softly.
“Are you all right?” She released a small sigh when Cam didn’t answer. “I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have asked. I just—noticed that you’d been…hurt.”
Cam felt the gentle caress of her fingertips as they skimmed over her scars. First near her hairline and then on her cheek, giving life to an inferno that passed from her fingertips into Cam’s skin and then all throughout her body. The collision of that heat with the icy cold of the pain caused a cataclysm that literally made Cam shake, and she quickly stood, the instability and chaos inside making it impossible to remain sitting.
Blake rose alongside her and tried to touch her again, but Cam crossed to the hearth, grabbed the poker, and stabbed the popping logs. She was behaving erratically, and Blake was seeing it all, which was exactly what she hadn’t wanted to have happen.
She kept attacking the logs, unsure what else she could do to avoid looking at Blake. She stabbed with the poker until she broke the wood into orange-glowing wedges. Blake was still watching her, and Cam knew she had to ease the tension she’d caused. But she wasn’t sure how. So, she did what she knew.
She distracted.
“Fire’s dying and I don’t want Alberto to get cold.” Cam snuck a look at her. Blake was still standing quietly by the couch. Her eyes, however, seemed to be doing so much more. Her penetrating gaze had a new and easily discernible empathy to it. The ripple of acceptance and understanding that came from it, along with the unspoken offer of more, was too overwhelming for Cam. Too tempting.
To keep from giving in to it, Cam had to look away and once again focus on the fire. Because Blake, unwittingly or not, had a clutching hold on her heart, like she was trying to pull it to her, for a closer examination.
“Are you cold? I’m feeling a little chilled,” Cam said. Her skin had somehow chilled, despite the raging fire
and despite the numerous raging fires now ablaze inside her.
“I’m actually very warm,” Blake said, her voice so soft Cam had hardly heard her. She went to Alberto, pressed her hand to his forehead and face. Cam watched from her position by the fire, still putting on the terrible act of tending to the flames. Blake sifted through her bag and retrieved what she needed. She put on her stethoscope, which in itself was something that stirred Cam enough to acknowledge, and began going through the same routine Cam had seen her do a few times now. She was riveted nonetheless by her serious yet gentle manner, as well as her careful concern and thorough inspection.
With Alberto she seemed less guarded and she showed her empathy and concern for him easily. With Cam, those feelings seemed to have come from somewhere deeper, and Cam sensed that there had been some reluctance in letting them surface. Nevertheless, the feelings were there, Cam had seen them.
But those feelings were a lot like her beauty. They were in direct contradiction to the biting words and the fiery attitude Cam always seemed to be at the opposite end of.
Blake was fire and ice.
Like the collision currently wreaking havoc within Cam.
A collision, she realized, that Blake herself had initiated.
“Sloane tried to tell me you were a physician,” Cam said as the quiet in the room began to weigh down on them.
Blake gave her a quick glance, then went back to her examination of Alberto. “It was my understanding that she told you I was an overworked, uptight, lonely professional who desperately needed to get laid.”
“She didn’t exactly put it like that.”
“No? She had a nicer way of putting it?” She kept her focus on Alberto, even though the conversation was obviously somewhat distressing to her.
“I think she was expecting me to inquire further about you with the information she shared.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No, I wasn’t—”
Blake looked up at her. “Interested?”
“I—that’s not—” How can almost every attempt at conversation with this woman end up being fucked?
“It’s okay,” Blake said with a snide laugh. “I wouldn’t be interested in someone described like that either. And considering the very little you did know of me, I’m sure you assumed her description was more than accurate.”
Is it?
“I didn’t ask anything further because it wasn’t any of my business. Nor did I think it was right for her to be sharing such personal information about you with me, a perfect stranger, regardless of how well meaning her intentions were. But she also said a lot of wonderful things about you. Things that, I now know, more than hinted at who you are. It shouldn’t have surprised me to learn you were a physician. If I hadn’t been so put off and just taken a moment to put two and two together…”
“Well, now you know. Cat’s out of the bag.”
“Yes, and it’s impressive.”
“Impressive? Is that what’s prompted your change in attitude toward me? Because I’m a doctor? And that’s a big deal?”
Cam pushed out a breath.
I can’t say anything right. Not one thing.
“You had to work really hard to get where you are, do what you do. Sacrifice more than I probably even realize. But that’s not what is impressive to me. It’s you using all that skill and knowledge to help people, like Alberto, that’s impressive. You’re helping him, a man you don’t even know, going out of your way to ensure he’s okay. So, if my attitude has changed toward you, that’s why.”
Blake listened to Alberto’s heart again and retook his temperature. Had she even heard her? Or was she buying time before she responded? Cam said nothing more and gave her the space and time she needed.
“His fever is coming down,” she said, removing her stethoscope. “He should be feeling a lot better come morning.” She put her things away, tucked her hair behind her ears. She turned to pet the dogs. “You’re not heathens, are you? No. You’re angels. Lovely little angels.”
You’re lovely.
Right now anyway.
Even though you’re acting like you didn’t hear me.
She glanced up as if Cam had said the words aloud. “I’m not sure what to do. Whether you’re okay with my staying the rest of the night or not.”
“I thought—” You were staying. That was the plan. Now you’re wanting to go? Or are you trying to get me to tell you that I want you to stay?
“He is improving,” she said quickly as she straightened. “Which is good. But if he happens to need me and I’m not here, you’ll have to come get me. If I stay, that wouldn’t be an issue and I’d sit up with him so you’d be able to get some sleep yourself.”
A short, involuntary laugh came from Cam. “I won’t be getting any sleep if you’re—” The remaining words toppled to the floor unspoken. But Blake had heard enough to get the gist of what Cam was about to say.
Cam tried to speak, to explain, but Blake cut her off.
“I’ll go then.” She was already gathering her bag and her sweater. “Would you like me to leave the thermometer?”
She thinks I don’t want her here.
“You don’t have to go,” Cam said. “I didn’t mean—”
Fuck, what do I say?
Blake turned, bag slung over her shoulder. “I think maybe I should. He’s doing fine and I’m sure you’d like to settle in and get some rest.” She headed for the door, dogs on her heels.
“Blake,” Cam said, as she watched her pull open the door.
Blake looked back at her.
Stay.
Talk with me.
I’ll try to do better.
At the very least let me continue to watch the flickering flames kiss your beautiful face.
“Thank you.” It was all Cam was able to say.
Blake seemed unable to process it, or maybe it was Cam having said it at all that was confusing to her. As if Cam thanking her was the very last thing she’d expected to hear.
“I just did what I do every day, Cam.” She gave Alberto one last glance. “If he should leave before I get a chance to see him tomorrow, tell him…please tell him I wish him well and that if he needs anything, I’ll be here. For a little while longer anyway.” She whispered good night to the dogs, kissed their heads, and then stepped out into the night with Cam rooted to the floor, unable to do anything but watch her go.
Chapter Seventeen
Blake was securing her wet hair into a small ponytail when she walked into the kitchen and found McKenna removing a large bowl from the refrigerator.
“There’s my grill master,” McKenna said as she caught sight of Blake. “Just in time to cook the chicken. I’m making your favorite.”
Blake had just showered off the day’s sweat, sand, and suntan lotion, but readily resigned herself to smelling like smoke the rest of the evening for her friends and for McKenna’s Southwestern grilled chicken with peppers and onions recipe. It was McKenna’s healthier take on fajitas and she loved it.
“And where is your preferred grill master?” Blake asked, referring to Sloane. She took the bowl of marinated chicken breasts from McKenna. She could smell the lime juice and soy sauce already.
“She’s indisposed at the moment.”
“Aw, don’t tell me that,” Blake said, making a face. “Now I know you guys got it on again while I was in the shower.”
“Would you rather us get it on later while you’re trying to sleep?”
“I have a choice? Because I could swear you do both.”
McKenna waved her off and began washing some bell peppers. Blake was a little amused that she seemed to be so embarrassed.
“You know the walls are thin, Kenna. And I’m a light sleeper.”
“Then I guess you’ll just have to go for more of your runs, won’t you?” She smirked.
So much for embarrassed.
Blake rolled her eyes. “Where’s the lighter?”
McKenna tugged open a drawer and o
ffered it to her. She didn’t, however, release it when Blake took hold.
“Or you could say you’re going for a run but instead sneak over to Cam’s for a little midday roll in the hay yourself. Sloane and I would never know.”
Blake yanked the lighter away. “Not going to happen.”
“Why not? She’s single, seems very nice and down to earth. Look at how she helped Alberto, how she helped us out. People seem to think very highly of her. And, of course,” she said lightly, “there are those dark good looks of hers.”
Blake looked up at the ceiling in exasperation. “Looks aren’t everything, Kenna.”
McKenna laughed. “Who are you trying to fool? You’re attracted to her. Despite whatever went down between the two of you in town or what she’s got going on underneath those looks. That may actually be what’s drawing you to her more. The fact that she riles you up. Ruffles your tail feathers.”
Blake laughed, incredulous. “Yeah. Sure. Okay.”
McKenna went to the counter and began chopping the peppers and onions. She kept smiling over at her as she worked.
“What?” Blake said.
“She stood up to you, didn’t she?”
Blake heated.
“Uh-huh. I thought as much. You argued with her and she didn’t back down. That’s why things got so tense at the fish market.”
“She was rude,” Blake said. “And insulting. She insinuated I was some sort of a—”
“Was she right?”
Blake blinked. “What?”
“Was she right?”
“No, she wasn’t right. I’m not an ignorant, prejudiced jerk.”
“No, you’re not, but could you have possibly said something to come off that way to her?”
“No—of course not—I—”
She groaned.
“You’re pissing me off, Kenna.”
“I know and it’s so much fun. After all, it’s a rare moment when the great, brilliant Dr. Livingstone is wrong and she can’t see it. And even better when I get to point it out to her. Little old me. The one without a college degree.”
“You don’t need a freaking degree,” Blake said. “You’re the most intuitive and perceptive person I know. And you’re annoying as hell.”
