He nodded. “Something like that.”
“There’s no need to call the police, Calvin,” his grandad said to the guard, walking the man back toward the gate leading to the garden. “That vagrant is my grandson.”
“He is?” the guard asked, craning his neck to get another glimpse.
“He is, indeed. I’m not sure why he chose to enter the house through this unorthodox method, but I can promise you, he’s not a threat to anyone.”
“If you’re sure?” the guard said, giving Cam one last look.
“Completely, thank you for your diligence,” his grandad answered, shutting the now busted gate behind the man.
“Well, well! Look who’s come home!” his gram said and wrapped him in her arms.
He melted into her embrace and inhaled her familiar rosewater scent. “Sorry about all that.”
What else could he say?
She pulled back and patted his cheek. “Darling, it’s so good to see your face,” she said, then frowned. “The part that isn’t covered with hair,” she added with a wry grin.
Jesus, he’d missed her. All the darlings aside, she was still the sassy, speak-the-truth, Brooklyn born girl who’d set off with his grandfather more than sixty years ago with barely enough money in their pockets to last a month, holding on to the dream of leaving the concrete jungle of NYC and setting up a mountain sports shop at the foot of the Rocky Mountains in Denver, Colorado.
His grandad clapped him on the shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming home, Cam? We could have sent the jet or at least a car to pick you up at the airport.”
“I wanted to surprise you,” he mumbled. He needed to come up with a story damn quick.
“Surprise us?” Gram echoed.
His brother, presumably his fiancée, and the blond woman walked over and joined them in the grass.
He glanced around at all the mini wedding cakes and the small Frenchman scooping up globs of what must have been a chocolate raspberry truffle cake.
“Yeah, to surprise you about returning for Bren and Abby’s wedding. It’s Abby, right?” he asked, exchanging a glance with the smiling petite brunette.
She nodded. “Yes, it is. And it’s so nice to meet you, Camden. I’ve heard so much about you. I feel like I already know you.”
He tensed. How much did she know? But there was no look of derision in her eyes as she reached out and squeezed his hand affectionately.
“Flipping hell!” his brother said with a wide grin, pulling him in for a hug. “When did you turn into a Mack truck?”
“Flipping?” Cam asked with a creased brow. “When did you ever have a PG vocabulary?”
Brennen chuckled and wrapped his arm around Abby. “It’s a long story, but it got me the love of my life, so I’m sticking with it,” he answered, sharing a knowing glance with his fiancée.
“Well, whatever the reason,” his gram began with a curious glint in her eye. “We need to get you settled and then a shower. Maybe a spa day at the Ritz? You’re welcome to stay with us or take the penthouse at The Dalton.”
“No, that won’t work,” he answered in a tight whisper.
His brother cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean, it won’t work?”
“I mean, no. I won’t accept any of it.”
His grandfather crossed his arms. “Any of what, Cam?”
“Money.”
Gram shook her head. “Like it or not, darling, you do have a trust fund and multiple properties at your disposal.”
“Well, I don’t want any of it.”
He didn’t deserve any of it. But this wasn’t the time or the place for that discussion.
“Darling, the wedding is several weeks away. If you’re not going to stay with us and you won’t touch your trust, how are you going to live? Where are you going to stay?”
“I have a little money saved up, and I could pick up a summer job somewhere if I needed more.”
“Perfect! You’re hired,” his grandfather said, sharing a look with his gram.
“I’m not working for you guys. I’m not qualified.”
“I beg to differ, Cam. You’ll be working at the Bergen Adventure Camp at Baxter Park. We’ve just learned that the site leader who usually heads up the program broke his leg in two places yesterday and won’t be able to work this summer,” his grandfather replied.
Baxter Park.
Mountain Daisy’s handlebars and the carved C and B flashed through his mind.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
His grandad narrowed his eyes. “Really? Just like that?”
Shit! He shouldn’t have given in so quickly.
“Yeah, I’ll run the Baxter Park program, but I’m finding my own place to stay.”
“At least, take a car. Brennen’s got twelve Mercedes sitting in the garage at The Dalton,” his gram added with a wave of her hand.
“Four, Gram,” Brennen corrected, biting back a grin.
“And still three too many,” Gram answered, biting back a grin of her own.
Cam raised his hands defensively. “Listen, I don’t want a Mercedes. I don’t need a car. I’ll just rent a room near the park.”
His grandmother sighed. “You can stay with us tonight, darling. Or let us book you a suite at the Ritz. Where are you going to find a place to rent today? It’s nearly seven o’clock in the evening.”
He blew out a tight breath, paced the length of the yard, and ran his hands through his wild mass of dark hair, frustration coursing through his veins. How was he supposed to find Mountain Daisy and hide his identity now?
He was just about to say fuck it all when a woman’s gentle voice pulled him from the muck inside his head.
“I have a rental unit near Baxter Park. I’m finishing up some work on the place. It’s still a little rough around the edges. You could stay there for the summer—as long as you’re okay with me coming in to work on the place from time to time.”
Her voice was honey and sunshine, and when he looked up, all he saw were those blue eyes and everything stopped. Who the hell was this woman?
“Cadence, that’s so generous of you,” his grandmother said.
The woman—Cadence—nodded, giving his gram a shy smile.
His pulse kicked up, and he couldn’t look away from those sky-blue eyes. He should say no. He was there to find Mountain Daisy, not to grow tongue-tied in front of this lovely wisp of a woman.
“What do you say? It’s yours if you want it,” Cadence added, holding his gaze.
3
Cadence
What just happened?
Cadence glanced over at the bearded, brooding Bergen brother taking up most of the space in the cab of her truck as they sat stopped at a red light.
Holy pickles and relish! The universe had one heck of a sense of humor.
Are there any extra billionaire Bergen brothers lying around at the Bergen estate?
She couldn’t complain. She’d gotten what she’d asked for.
She knew of Camden Bergen—the runaway Bergen heir—long before she’d even met Abby and became friendly with the Bergen family.
Everyone in Denver—no, basically everyone in Colorado and probably a good part of the world—knew of the Bergens. And young and old among them still remembered when Griffin and Hannah Bergen died tragically in a car crash a little over a decade ago. The governor had attended the funeral along with many prominent members of the business community as well as top sports figures. It made the papers. It dominated the news. She’d mourned the loss of two people she’d never met but respected for the way they’d used their wealth and influence to give back to the community.
What she didn’t understand was why Camden chose to disappear.
Moreover, why was he back?
“What grade do you teach?”
She startled at his question. They’d done the whole hi, nice to meet you song and dance in Ray and Harriet Bergen’s backyard next to a pile of smashed cakes and a disgruntled baker. It ha
d lasted a minute or two before Camden told his family he had to leave.
No one seemed surprised by this. Granted, his entrance had set the bar pretty high when it came to shock value. Quietly mumbling that he needed to go couldn’t hold a candle to busting through a solid wood door like the Incredible Hulk.
“I teach second grade,” she answered, turning onto the street that ran parallel to Baxter Park.
“And you teach at Whitmore with my brother’s fiancée?”
She nodded as a tingle traveled down to the base of her spine. Camden Bergen’s presence was all-consuming. The heat of his body. The low rumble of his voice. Even with that out of control beard and dark locks of shaggy hair brushing past his eyelashes, he still possessed an aura of authority that made her pulse race.
She released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Yes, that’s where Abby and I met.”
Silence stretched between them, and she glanced at the brooding giant. He wasn’t even looking her way. His attention had been diverted to Baxter Park as the last rays of sunlight glimmered on the surface of Smith Lake.
“It’s lovely this time of day,” she said, but her ruminating hulk didn’t answer and only gave her a slight nod.
She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and glanced at the man. Wearing a pair of ripped jeans and with only a worn backpack in tow, this was not how you started a visit with the family you hadn’t seen in a decade. And that entrance pretty much sealed the deal that something was going on that had nothing to do with Abby and Brennen’s upcoming nuptials.
She’d seen his expression when his grandfather had asked why he didn’t tell them he was coming back to Denver. As a teacher, she’d developed a sixth sense that told her when someone wasn’t giving her the whole story.
And there was more to Camden’s story than just a surprise visit from the runaway Bergen brother.
“Have you known my family long?” Camden asked, snapping her out of teacher detective mode.
She kept her eyes on the road. “Yeah, for a couple of years. Your grandmother volunteered in my classroom two years ago for the Bergen Community Partnership, the volunteer program started by your—”
“My mom. Yes, I know my mother set up the volunteer program. I’ve been gone for ten years. I haven’t lost my memory,” he bit out.
Oh, heck no!
Cadence gripped the steering wheel. The Bergen clan may tiptoe around the youngest brother, but she didn’t owe him anything. In fact, she was doing him a favor.
She turned onto Williams Street and came to an abrupt stop in front of her house.
She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to face him. “I don’t know why you’re here, Camden Bergen, but I seriously doubt that it’s only for Abby and Brennen’s wedding.”
He held her gaze, and his steel-blue eyes flashed surprise.
She lifted her chin. “And I don’t know what kind of beef you’ve got with your family or this town, but the Bergens have done nothing but good for this community. They’ve shown me nothing but kindness and welcomed my good friend, Abby, into their family with open arms. I don’t know why you’re acting like a D-canoe, but here’s a news flash for you. The Bergens are good people.”
“D-canoe?” he repeated with a curious glint in his eye.
“Yes, it’s short for douche canoe. It means a colossal jerk.”
“I know what it means.” His lips twitched beneath his wooly beard. “What kind of second-grade teacher says douche canoe?”
Was he laughing at her? What a D-canoe!
“I didn’t. I said D-canoe. Perfectly child-friendly.” She leaned in. “And I’ll have you know, that I’m the kind of second-grade teacher who isn’t scared to call it like it is. You’re lucky to have a family that cares about you. Somebody needs to get that through your thick head.”
He unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned in, their noses nearly touching. “And what do you know about me?”
She held his gaze, unflinching. “I know that you’re lucky to have a family that loves you. Not all of us have that luxury.”
“You don’t get it,” he whispered. “I don’t deserve them. Their love. Their money. Their prestige. I’m not worthy of any of it.”
Her bottom lip trembled. “How could you know that for sure?”
“I know,” he answered, his words thick with emotion.
“What if you’re wrong?” she breathed.
They’d just been introduced fifteen minutes ago. How the heck had this gotten so deep so quickly? And why did she care? What was it to her if Camden Bergen reunited with his family?
His knee grazed her thigh as his gaze grew dark. “I’m not wrong, Cadence.”
The tingle was back, and heat surged through her body at the sound of her name coming from his lips.
When was the last time she’d felt like this?
Her answer came with a pang of shame.
It was the last time she’d heard from Mountain Mac. The last time her phone had pinged and the words, New message from Mountain Mac, flashed across the screen.
And what of Aaron? Her husband. She’d looked down at his lifeless body before they’d closed the casket and sworn that she’d dedicate her life to Bodhi and promised to follow through on his dream of restoring and renovating the houses.
Mountain Mac had been a comfort to her. A voice in the dark. A late-night confidant. Yes, she’d fantasized about him—wondered what it would be like to curl up in his arms. It was easy to let her imagination run wild about Mac. He was only words on a screen, making her smile…allowing her a tiny space to dream.
But Camden Bergen was right here, flesh and blood. All man and very, very real.
She sat back and released a shaky breath. She had to stop this—had to resist the magnetic pull between them. She stared out the passenger window. “We’re here. This is the rental unit,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
He glanced down at his knee, still pressed against her and shifted his body in the seat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
She waved him off. “It’s okay, and I should apologize. I shouldn’t have come at you like that. It’s got to be a lot to process, seeing your family, and I’m sure you’re exhausted from your travels.”
He gave her a tight nod, grabbed his pack, and got out of the truck.
She picked up her purse and the bag with the doorknobs from the backseat then joined him on the sidewalk.
She gestured to the house. “This is it.”
“It’s a paired house?” he asked, glancing between the connected units.
“Yeah, yours is the one on the right.”
She looked up at the red brick structure with two cozy matching porches and identical chimneys, one on each side of the house. She’d taken a picture of this view to teach her students about symmetry. She’d folded the image in half as the children watched and gasped as the matching sides lined up perfectly.
“These are pretty rare for the Baxter Park neighborhood,” he commented.
She relaxed a fraction, grateful to move on to a more benign topic. “Yeah, they were in pretty bad shape when I got them.”
Camden frowned. “Them?”
“Yes, I own both units. I live there,” she said and pointed to the porch on the left.
He frowned. “Next door?”
She glanced up at him. What was it with this guy? “Yeah, is that a problem?”
His posture went rigid. “No, it’s not a problem.”
She sighed. This man was an enigma. “How about I show you around?”
With another tight nod, he followed a step behind her as she pulled her keys from her purse and opened the door.
“It comes furnished, but I should warn you—”
“Holy Great Aunt Edna!” he said under his breath.
He wasn’t far off.
“Actually, it’s Great Aunt Gertrude,” she corrected then shook her head. “No, it’s just Gertrude. She never became an aunt.”
Camden wal
ked into the center of the room. “It’s like going back in time.”
With the low ceilings and surrounded by décor that hadn’t been updated since the 1930s, he resembled a muscled comic book character written into a period piece.
She walked in and set her purse and bag of doorknobs on the seat of a high-back chair. “I haven’t had the time to go through all the personal items and furniture to decide what to keep and what to donate. I’ve been too busy working on the renovation.” She glanced at the freshly painted walls. “You’re lucky. I stripped all the wallpaper last week. You should have seen it when it was still up. Little red rosebuds surrounded by tiny green leaves. If you stared at it for too long, it was like being on an acid trip.”
He cocked his head to the side.
She gasped. “Not that I do, or ever did acid, but the pattern could induce vertigo.”
God, help her! Now she was the one acting like a freak.
He picked up a porcelain glass goose, one of the many figurines lining just about every flat surface. “Did you inherit this place from a family member?”
She glanced at the tiny goose in his large hand. “No, the bank said that two sisters lived here, one in each unit, for over eighty years. The property was priced to sell because it needed a lot of work, and the women who lived here passed away a day apart from each other. There was no will, and the bank couldn’t find any next of kin to pass the place onto.”
“Really?” he said, returning the goose before lifting a lace doily off an antique round card table.
“Yeah, from what I could piece together, they were twins and had come out to Colorado with their father. He’d hit it big and made quite a bit of money from silver mining and bought them this house. But then he left town after losing his fortune—and his daughters stayed here, never married, and from what the neighbors say, kept to themselves.”
He nodded. “My dad would have gotten a kick out of this place.”
She watched him closely. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, he was a big Colorado history buff.”
Cadence glanced around. “This place certainly has that, but don’t worry. It’s structurally sound, and the wiring has all been updated.”
Man Find (Bergen Brothers Book 3) Page 4
