by Brynne Asher
“Why does this piss me off?” Cam asks, raising his head and looking to the backyard.
“Cam?” she calls again.
“I should be fucking happy,” he keeps talking to the backyard.
“Campbell!” she yells for him this time.
Holy shit.
Cam is short for Campbell? What kind of name is that?
Cam’s head flinches and he glares at her. “I should be happy my kids don’t have to spend as much time with you. I shouldn’t let you have them on days that aren’t yours. But fucking-A, my kids deserve to have a mom. Even if God, for some crazy-ass reason, is putting us through hell by giving them you.”
Bekki leans at the waist and spits, “Don’t talk to me like that.”
“I never want to hear you complain that they don’t want to be with you. You’ve made your bed. Maybe you should put as much effort into being a mom instead of trying to keep up with a pack of dogs you’ll never run with. Always the same shit with you, but now it’s affecting my kids. And if I hear that Cara’s sad when she’s with you and you don’t do a fucking thing about it, I’m calling my attorney. We’ll see about cutting your time with them to two days a month,” he threatens.
“Two days?” she yells. “You can’t do that! I don’t have a bottomless pit of money backing me to pay for an attorney.”
“Try me. I dare you,” he says.
Bekki grasps her purse strap and yanks it back up her arm. Her pale face is turning red, but I doubt she’s suffering from blushing like me. She looks like she might explode.
“Do we have a trade?” she seethes.
Cam shuts his eyes and breathes like he’s trying not to lose control. Finally, he opens his eyes and shakes his head no, but says, “Don’t make me sorry.”
By the look on his face and the way he’s holding his body, if I were Bekki with an i, I would do everything I could not to make him sorry. I have a feeling the consequences for Cam being sorry could be huge.
“Fine,” she spits and turns on her high heel to somehow maneuver through the grass back to where she came from.
Cam and I remain quiet until we watch her round the corner of his house. I finally see him turn to me and I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. He crosses his arms and drops his head, deep in thought.
I’m not sure how long we can stay like this, so I surmise, “I guess that’s your ex-wife.”
His head doesn’t come up, but his eyes do. He huffs once, confirming the obvious. “That’s her.”
“Is she the only one? I mean, there’s not another is there?”
“God help me, she’s the only one.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Well, you really know how to pick ‘em.”
He doesn’t respond, but he does narrow his eyes.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“She’s a bitch. Looking back, I’m pretty sure she only had kids to appease me. The divorce was ugly and because of the shit she pulled, which I won’t torture you with, she only gets our kids two weekends a month. The judge took one look at us and her antics, didn’t hesitate giving me primary custody. I don’t like my kids with her, but it’s court ordered and I’ve gotta do it. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why she can’t get her head out of her ass and be a good mom. They’re good kids. They aren’t even a handful. I know this because my sisters and I were a handful,” he finishes his rant by crossing his arms and looking out at the kids playing.
I hardly know him, but I can tell he’s a good dad and has to put up with a bitch of an ex-wife. He does it because he loves his kids and he wants them to have a mom even though he clearly hates her. I do know he works hard managing two fulltime jobs to give them everything he can. What I don’t know, is if he has anyone to tell him he’s a good dad. For some reason I feel it’s important he knows and I want to be the one to tell him.
I lift my hand to his bicep giving him a squeeze to get his attention. He instantly looks down when I start, “You’ve got great kids. They’re loving, they’re fun, they’re smart, and they’re respectful. You should be proud of that because it looks like that’s all you. Jordy’s a sweet big brother to Cara when you aren’t around and Cara’s just plain sweet. Despite what you say about their mom, it looks like you give them everything they need. You’re a good dad, Cam. I’ve only known you a few days, but I’ve gotten to know your kids and I know a good dad when I see one, because I have a great dad.”
He doesn’t move, but breathes deep and looks down at me, holding me in his trance.
Keeping my hand on his arm—holy smokes, his bicep is big and firm—I go on. “You’re giving your kids a good life, despite what you say about their mom. Maybe she’ll come around and see what she’s missing out on. Because she’s missing out on everything and that’s sad. It’s her loss and that loss is huge.”
Turning to face me, I’m forced to drop my hand. Hoping to get his mind off his ex-wife and the ugly scene he just went through, I decide to lighten the mood. “I mean, you can be kind of intense when interrogating someone on their age, but other than that, you seem like a great guy.”
He narrows his eyes and his mouth tips at one side.
“The Sugar Daddy and Dr. Pepper incidents, notwithstanding. You were an asshole,” I add grinning.
He chuckles once and crosses his arms.
“You did walk into me,” I keep on with a little shake of my head because I can tell it’s working and that warms me all over. “One second I’m standing there, the next I turn around and I’m soaked to the bone. Then that horny kid ogled me with my tank wet and plastered to my body while you glared as if the whole thing was my fault. You really do owe me a new tank top.”
He gazes another few moments before shaking his head, muttering, “Fuck it.”
The next thing I know, he grabs my hand and I’m being pulled the ten feet toward the patio door.
“Cam – ”I start to yell, wondering what he’s doing, but I don’t get a chance to finish my thought.
He swings the door open and after yanking me in the house, he plasters me up against the wall, his mouth landing on mine. Hard. I’m so shocked by his quick advance, I gasp and his tongue instantly delves into my mouth. One of his hands goes to my hair, cupping my head and his other goes straight to my ass, pinning me against the wall with his solid body.
Feeling his body pressed against mine and being wrapped in his arms, I feel what I thought to be true. He’s rock hard from his chest down to his strong thighs and this confirmation makes me weak. Just when I think it can’t get any more extreme, I feel his hand squeeze my ass making me moan into his mouth. Hell if my moan doesn’t spur him to shift me higher, leaving me barely on my toes as he holds me while still pressing me to the wall. I taste bourbon on his tongue, but can tell even beneath the liquor, he tastes better than any decadent dessert I could ever dream of creating.
I’ve never felt less in control or smaller, and I always feel small. This is new. Sure I’ve been kissed, but nothing like this. Cam’s kiss is purely fierce, completely aggressive, and all consuming. This is not a “we” kiss—this is Cam taking what he wants, but it feels like he’s taking what he needs. I find myself not knowing what to do other than fisting his t-shirt to hang on.
But the goatee?
Wow.
Just wow.
How can something be soft but a bit scratchy and feel so good on my face? No one’s ever kissed me with real facial hair before. It makes his kiss even more brutal and overwhelming, framing his demanding lips as they take what they want. I feel numb all over at the same time acutely aware of my body humming, hypersensitive from everything Cam Montgomery.
He finally slows his mouth, but doesn’t pull away. He does something strangely sweet and soft compared to the intensity he just gave me. With his lips still touching mine as I try to catch my breath, he swipes my lower lip with his tongue, lapping up just one more taste.
Pulling back enough to look into my eyes, he breathes against my mouth. “
There.”
Not able to move a muscle since he has me pinned to the wall with my hair fisted tightly in his hand, I frown. “There?”
“Darlin’,” he starts, speaking against my lips. “I’ve wanted to kiss the wiseass off your face all week.”
“Really?” I frown deeper.
“Really.” He grins. “And I’ve gotta tell you, it was far from disappointing.”
Even with his tight grip on my hair, I manage to tilt my head, feeling the pull on my scalp. “Did you think it would be?”
He shakes his head again, but my breath catches when he presses his hips into my tummy, and hell if I can’t feel his erection. Oh, he feels big. Bigger than I imagined and, trust me, I’ve imagined. I instantly feel wetness surge between my legs, making me squeeze my thighs. I think he felt it too, since he has me pressed to the wall with his big strong body, because he instantly grins.
He replies, “I hoped like hell it wouldn’t be. And I’ve been hoping for days.”
But feeling him now, so long and hard pressed into my tummy, I have no response other than, “Oh.”
He doesn’t have a chance to freak me out anymore because we hear the kids coming and they’re coming fast. Cam squeezes my ass quickly and lays another firm kiss on my lips before stepping back. I come down to Earth on flat feet and have to lean against the wall to catch my bearings, not to mention my breath.
Cam grins as the kids come running in, demanding, “We want popsicles!”
The kids look up at me and I look up at Cam, not believing what just happened. He has a weird sort of satisfaction on his face when he says, “I’ll get you popsicles.”
The little ones hustle into the kitchen, but before Cam turns to follow, he puts a hand to my chin and brushes my bottom lip with his thumb. Giving me another squeeze, his bright blue eyes smile before letting me go to find popsicles.
Once he’s gone, I slump into the wall, letting my head fall back with a thump. I close my eyes and squeeze my thighs to calm myself. Finally catching my breath and recovering from the most intense kiss of my life, I realize I didn’t know it was possible to feel a kiss in every part of my body. Moving off the wall, I go in search of my wine. I really need another drink. I remotely wonder if I’ve been missing out by not drinking bourbon, but I shake my head because I doubt any bourbon could taste as good as it did on Cam’s tongue. Not if I searched far and wide for the smoothest of the smooth.
But then again, I think I might like the taste of anything on Cam’s tongue.
I walk into the kitchen to fill my glass and see the kids sitting at the bar, yammering away with popsicles. Cam’s leaning down, elbows to the counter across from the kids talking to them as they yammer. He’s holding a grape frozen treat on a stick in his fingers. He smirks at me as he takes a big bite off the top.
Returning his smirk with a small smile, I pour myself another glass of Merlot, thinking what I really have a hankering for is a grape popsicle.
I climb into the guestroom bed at my sister’s house. The boys have been through the bath, we read many, many books, and Noah even read one to me. After they were all tucked in, I picked up the house and kitchen.
It was getting late so Cam, Jordy, and Cara left soon after popsicles. Cam instructed the kids in his dad voice to run home like usual and we were again alone at the patio door. He reached out for me, tagging me around the waist and dipping his hand under the back of my t-shirt—he pulled me into his brick wall of a body. His big hand was searing on my bare skin as he leaned down while pulling me up for another kiss, almost as intense as earlier.
Letting my mouth go, he said, “Dinner was great.”
Still overcome by the way he kisses me, I barely had the wherewithal to respond, “You’re welcome,” to his sort-of “thank you” for dinner.
He grinned and squeezed my hip before moving his body out the patio door to follow his kids.
I set my alarm so I’m sure to get the kids off to camp on time. Rolling to my back, I look up into the darkness and think about Cam Montgomery. I haven’t thought about a man in a while. Sort of a long while. I have a habit of getting lost in my life with my family, and now my business, not that I’ve ever made men a priority. I know I don’t put myself out there like my friends when they go out. I’ve done that a couple of times and anyone I ever met turned out to be an ass or had the potential, so I always go about my merry way.
I can’t help but think about Cam. The way he looks at me, the way he was with me tonight, the way he kissed me. Especially the way he held my body like he couldn’t help himself. It’s different, so different than I’ve ever known, but I like it.
I like when he talks about his business. I like the way he looks at me. I like the way he ate my dinner. Hell, I even like when he’s frustrated with me. But I really like the way he is with his kids. There’s nothing sexier than seeing a man protect and love his family. Although I’ve always known I’d want that for me, I had no idea how much I’d want it. And now I don’t just want it, I want it. And wanting it like I never knew I would, I can’t help but like the way Cam puts his stamp on it.
I can’t stop thinking about the way he touched me, as if he couldn’t stop himself. Oh yeah. I really like that. And thinking about Cam’s hands on me makes me fidget.
I smile into the darkness as I slide my hand under the covers and into my panties. I have a vibrator at home, but it’s not like I thought I’d want it this week. I slip my middle finger between my legs, thinking about Cam Montgomery in all the ways I’ve learned to like him in the last couple days. And I do what I always do, make myself come gently.
What I don’t know is that across the expanse to the next house, the man of my thoughts is doing the same. But his thoughts are on me.
Chapter Eight
Keep Your Legs Together and Your Mind on Jesus
Paige
“I love this one. Mr. Franks was a hottie in his Marine uniform. And your hair? You look like you walked off the movie set of Casablanca. You’re still beautiful, but you were one classy chick in your younger years.”
“Oh, you go on.” Rosa grins as we flip through old photo albums of her and Mr. Franks back in the day. And by back in the day, I mean the days of black and white photos, fancy set hair, tailored women’s suits with the little peplum on the jacket, and men back from war looking nothing short of debonair in their uniforms.
I met Rosa Franks a few months back at my cousin’s house and we’ve been friends ever since. My new sister-in-law, Leigh, and I both took to her like glue. Since then, we’ve brought her into the Carpino fold. Not that she doesn’t have her own fold—she does with all her kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids. But one can’t have too many folds and you’d think she was born a Carpino with her opinionated, bossy manner. I lost my grandma a few years back to cancer and we were really close. Befriending Rosa has not only been sentimental for me, she’s become a part of my life I hold dear. She’s hilarious, sweet, and she enjoys laying life lessons on me every moment she can. I’ve tucked some of these lessons close to my heart, cherishing them. But others make me frown and wonder about her sanity at the ripe old age of eighty-five, even if she is as quick as a whip upstairs.
I spend time with Rosa every Friday and usually pop in another day or two, as well. Since I’m always cooking and experimenting for my blog, there’s always extra food and I usually drop dinner off during my pop-ins. She loves my experiments—for the most part I’m spot on, though I’ve had a couple doozies that have gone straight to the trash. Since she lives by herself and it saves her from having to cook for one.
“Can I play on your phone?” Cara asks from across the table with a chocolate covered face and sticky fingers. We just finished eating fudgesicles. Cara and Cayden are covered in sticky chocolate. Jordy and Noah are huddled playing a game on Jordy’s phone and managed to eat theirs without the mess.
“Let me clean you up first.” I move to Rosa’s kitchen for a wet towel.
“I’ve got boxes of t
oys in the hall closet for my grandkids. Go get ‘em and have some fun. Kids and cellular phones these days. You need to play with toys like normal children and let your brains talk to your fingers, telling them to do something besides push buttons on a screen. You need to build somethin’ and pretend somethin’. I have three kids and they’re all smart. Two of ‘em are engineers and it’s all because they built things with their toys.” Rosa lays on a life lesson thick for the kids.
I grin at all four who are gazing big-eyed at her, not knowing what to do or say. I make it to the little ones and mop up their faces. “A couple more minutes on the phones, then you can hit the toys. Sound fair?”
They give me little nods as I slide my phone to Cara and Noah. They look like they’ve turned on the camera and have started clicking pictures of each other and everything else in sight.
“How did you and Mr. Franks meet?” I ask, reclaiming my seat and flipping through the pages of faded black and white photos.
“Leo was an officer, he’d done his time in Germany and the war was over. He decided to stay in, make it a career and was back in the states for the time being. He got himself a desk job. You see, Leo, he was four years older than me. I had just graduated high school the year before and got a job as a secretary. I was really good at typing—fastest in my class and scored well on the interview tests. Anyway, I was a secretary in the same military office Leo was in,” she explained.
“You were his secretary and had an office romance? No wonder you like your trashy books.” I tease her.
“Now, you stop it, child,” she rebukes with a frown. “I didn’t work for him. I was a secretary for his boss’s boss, but we worked in the same office. And I did not like Leo Franks. He was back from war and, oh my stars, was he cocky, even if he was handsome. He thought he was all that and a bag o’ chips. Well, I’ll let you know, I didn’t even think he was a package o’ stale crackers.”
“What changed your mind?”
