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Almost Just Friends

Page 3

by Jill Shalvis


  And suddenly Camden’s grim mood made sense.

  “Do you two know each other?” Emmitt asked.

  “No,” Piper said, at the same time Camden said, “Yes.”

  She stared at him.

  He stared right back.

  “Well, that clears that up,” Emmitt said. “Cam?”

  “We were both at the bar tonight.”

  “Yep,” Piper added. “End of story. Now, tell me how you’re feeling, Emmitt.”

  He flashed his son a grin, as if he found it hugely funny and satisfying that Piper wasn’t interested in him.

  As for how Cam felt about this, or anything, he wasn’t revealing. “Why does she want to know how you’re feeling?” he asked. “Have you been sick?”

  “Nope. I’ve been healthy as a horse.”

  Piper shook her head. “Maybe a horse with—” She broke off, horrified that she’d very nearly outed Emmitt’s medical condition, which was never okay, even when one was totally off-kilter.

  Cam stared at her and then turned to his dad, who grimaced.

  Piper sighed. I’m sorry, she mouthed to Emmitt.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Emmitt looked at Cam. “I’ve got diabetes.”

  Cam’s expression was disbelief. “Since when?”

  “The doc tested me about five months ago. I was going to tell you.”

  Cam gave him a long look.

  “Okay,” Emmitt said. “So I wasn’t going to tell you.”

  “Seriously?”

  Emmitt huffed out a sigh. “Look, I’d have gotten to it eventually. But you’ve got to understand, my ability to remember to tell you things is far outweighed by my ability to remember every song lyric from the eighties.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Piper said into the tense room. “I never should’ve—”

  “It’s okay, darlin’,” Emmitt said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “No,” Cam said tightly, sending an incriminating look in his dad’s direction. “You absolutely didn’t.”

  “I know, I hear you loud and clear, but, son, you’ve had enough stress and grief, I wasn’t about to add to it.”

  Cam closed his eyes and took what appeared to be a deep breath. Extremely revealing for the guy who had yet to show much emotion. “Dad—”

  “And what does it matter anyway? I’m doing good,” Emmitt said to both of them. “I’m feeling much better.”

  “Good,” Piper said. “But your foot, where you cut it open last week. I’d like to check it.”

  “Cam dressed it for me just now. But I did drop a glass and he got cut dealing with the mess. Maybe you could take a look—”

  “Of course,” Piper said.

  Emmitt nodded his thanks. “I’ll be in the kitchen. My Jack isn’t going to drink itself.”

  “Hey,” Piper said to his back. “You’re not supposed to be drinking alcohol anymore, remember? It’s on your dietary restrictions list.”

  “I thought that list was more of a . . . suggestion sort of thing. You know, like a guideline.” He turned and flashed a charming smile.

  But Piper was charming-smile resistant. “Do you remember what I told you?”

  “Shee-it,” Emmitt said on a heavy sigh. “Yeah. Excuse me a minute.”

  When they were alone, Cam looked at her. “What did you tell him?”

  “That if I caught him with alcohol or sweets, or anything not on his new diet, I was going to eat and drink it myself.”

  He snorted.

  “So how bad are you hurt?” she asked quietly. “And where?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He appeared okay but had his hands hidden in his pockets, so she suspected one of them was where he was cut. “I could just check—”

  “Not necessary. I’m not your patient.”

  “Would that be so bad?”

  “Yes,” he said, his voice laced with good humor now, along with what her hormones tried to convince her was heat.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Maybe I’d rather be something else.”

  Huh. Most definitely heat. She worked very hard at not responding to that but failed. “And what would that something else be?”

  He just looked at her.

  Oh, boy. She could deny it all she wanted, but she was one hundred percent attracted to him. She just wasn’t sure she wanted to be. “You said you weren’t flirting with me.”

  “And you said you weren’t interested.”

  “I’m not.” Shaking her head at the both of them, she moved to the kitchen in time to catch Emmitt hiding a box of cookies, two bags of chips, and a summer sausage. He was stuffing them into his pantry when she cleared her throat.

  With a sigh, he turned to face her, looking only slightly ashamed of himself. “Hey,” he said. “Stressed is desserts spelled backward.”

  Piper heard Cam’s sigh behind her, and she crossed her arms. “I made you lists, Emmitt. One with a bunch of great food options. Another with easy recipes. And a third with the rules and restrictions.” She pulled her journal from where it was still in her inside jacket pocket. “I kept the originals.”

  Emmitt took the journal and read out loud. “Things I can do to help control my blood sugar. ‘Exercise three to four times a week, which can include walking, getting on a treadmill, or yoga.’” He swiveled a long look in Piper’s direction. “Yoga’s for uppity hipsters from California who eat avocados.”

  “You’re from California. And I see you eat guacamole all the time. But fine. Skip yoga. Stretch instead. And eating right is everything.”

  “Here’s another problem,” he said, jabbing a finger at her journal. “This here says no white foods.”

  “Right,” she said. “Like sugar and starch—”

  “I know what white foods are. I love them.”

  Piper shook her head. “Emmitt—”

  “I know, I know. You’re just trying to help.” Emmitt turned a few pages in her journal, and before she could reach to take it back, his brows shot up so far they vanished beneath his hairline. “‘Top Secret Secret Bucket List.’ Nice.” He flipped another page. “And a list of personal rules.” He started to skim them, smiling.

  Piper snatched the journal and shoved it back into her pocket. “You did not just see that.”

  “What’s it worth to you? How about a day of skipping testing my blood sugar?”

  “You’d bribe your medic?”

  “I’d bribe God if I could.” He took in her expression and sighed. “Fine, I get it. And thank you. I’ll work on things, I promise.”

  “You really need to, Emmitt. Your blood sugar has got to be more stable.”

  “It’s not all my fault.”

  “No? Do tell,” she said.

  “I’ve been eating like shit for fifty-five years, and it’s a known fact that you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

  “Can I teach the old dog to want to live for his family?” she asked.

  Emmitt’s eyes cut to Cam. The two men exchanged a long look that had so many tangled emotions behind it, Piper couldn’t even begin to interpret it.

  “I’ll work harder on it,” Emmitt finally said.

  “Good.” She patted a kitchen chair and he sank into it. She checked his blood pressure, pulse, and blood sugar, all while avoiding looking at the elephant in the room.

  The sexy, mysterious, and easy-on-the-eyes, dangerous elephant.

  “He okay?” that elephant asked.

  “He will be.” She locked gazes with Emmitt. “If he behaves himself.”

  “Well, now, where’s the fun in that?” Emmitt asked, flashing another of his charming grins, and in that moment Piper knew exactly where Camden Hayes had gotten his irresistible charisma.

  Chapter 3

  “Fear isn’t a productive emotion.”

  It wasn’t all that often that Cam Hayes mentally thanked the Coast Guard for his training, and given that he’d been with them since he was eighteen, being pushed to be the best he could be, ther
e’d been a helluva lot of training. It wasn’t just weapons and physical fitness either, though that was a big part of it. Reading a situation quickly and efficiently was as important, and as ingrained, as breathing.

  Piper was clearly off-balance. He attributed this to the storm, but also to him. This wasn’t ego talking; it was fact. Because he was just as off-balance.

  Her name suited her. She was different. She was a quick thinker, fiercely protective of those she cared about, and—his personal favorite—also a smart-ass. “Tell me about the diabetes.”

  “You really didn’t know?” Her censure was clear. She didn’t approve of him being distant enough to not know.

  He didn’t approve either.

  “My doing,” Emmitt said. “He lives and works on the other side of the country. I didn’t want to worry him.”

  “Dad. This is something we should be worried about.”

  Emmitt shook his head. “You had enough on your plate, son. With Rowan, and then getting called out to God knows where this past month. I didn’t want you out there distracted.”

  Yeah, there’d been a lot going on, but this was something he should have known, no matter what, and he had to work at banking his frustration. “We can talk about it later.”

  “Only if it involves alcohol.”

  “No alcohol,” Piper said.

  Cam nearly laughed at his dad’s expression. “You know,” the guy said, “you two are a pair of fun-suckers.”

  Piper packed up her things and bent to give his dad a kiss on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

  Emmitt grumbled, but he hugged her. “Thanks, cutie.”

  Cam followed her to the door, intending to walk her out to make sure she got home safely, but she stopped him with a hand to his chest. “I’m good.”

  “It’s a mess out there.”

  “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before. Go deal with your family stuff.”

  Yeah, she was definitely annoyed that he hadn’t known about his dad’s medical condition. “We’re on the same side in this,” he said, wanting that to be clear.

  “Then take care of him. And don’t let him walk all over you.”

  Cam had to laugh. “No one walks all over me.”

  “Hate to break it to you, but your dad just did.”

  Shit. True story, born from not knowing each other that well, something they were working on fixing. Another truth—he liked how Piper wasn’t intimidated by him in the least, and he mentally added bossy and sassy to her list of positive attributes. “His name should be Emmitt Stubborn-Do-Everything-on-My-Own Hayes.”

  She snorted in agreement, and he liked that too, but he wanted to make sure she understood something about him. “Listen,” he said. “I try to call or text him daily. I specifically ask him what’s happening and how he’s doing. He’s damn good at evading when he wants to be. But he should’ve told me.”

  “Hell, yeah,” she agreed. “He should have.” She cocked her head. “You’re hurt because he didn’t tell you.”

  Hurt? He’d long ago closed himself off to that particular emotion. To all of them.

  “I shouldn’t have broken it to you like that,” she said with genuine regret. “It hadn’t occurred to me that you wouldn’t know.”

  “Apparently, I don’t know a whole hell of a lot.”

  “You two aren’t close.”

  “Not geographically, no. I thought we were working on emotionally.” He shook his head. “Is he going to be okay?”

  “He should be. Assuming he follows the plan regarding exercise and diet.”

  “Shit,” he muttered, knowing exactly how stubborn his dad could be, which was a big part of how his family had ended up broken in the first place. His parents’ divorce had been . . . tough, on everyone. But since Cam’s mom hadn’t been good at staying on her meds, he’d told the judge that he wanted to stay with her. Which was how he’d ended up on the East Coast with his bipolar mom, and his brother, Rowan, had ended up on the West Coast with their dad. There hadn’t been much interaction between the exes, at least not until Cam had been old enough to travel back and forth on his own.

  And at the thought of Rowan, a sharp pain went straight through his chest and gripped his heart, making breathing all but impossible. A visceral reminder that he hadn’t managed to shut off his emotions at all.

  “Hey,” Piper said softly, putting a hand on his arm. “You okay?”

  Hell, no. His guard was lowered. Actually, it was completely down. And he couldn’t remember the last time that had happened outside of his unit. He met her gaze and decided he was just tired enough not to fight it. “If I say no, are we going to play doctor?”

  She blinked. Paused. “You’re . . . messing with me again.”

  “Am I?”

  Still staring at him, she called back to the kitchen, “Emmitt? I’m leaving. Remember, I’ve got two generators and I’m right next door. Call or text me if you need anything.”

  “How about me?” Cam asked, having no idea what he thought he was doing, other than being incredibly stupid. Didn’t stop him though. “What if I need anything?”

  She bit her lower lip, like she was torn between panic and excitement at the thought of him needing something from her. “You’re a big boy,” she finally said. “You seem like you can handle yourself.”

  “Yes, but don’t forget, I’m on your list of things to do now.”

  That wrenched a laugh from her, and the air crackled with the storm—or maybe it was the tension between the two of them. Tension he hadn’t seen coming and now wanted to chase.

  “I’m getting rid of that list,” she finally said.

  He smiled. “That’s a big fib.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “I know you break eye contact when you’re saying something that even you don’t buy. But if you don’t want to talk about your to-do list, then let’s talk about your secret secret bucket list. And that list of rules.” He leaned in a little. “It’s a naughty list, right? Tell me it’s naughty. Tell me slowly and in great detail.”

  She gave him a shove, but not before he saw her shiver, as if she liked the idea. Then, shaking her head, no doubt at the both of them, she reached for the door before pausing to glance back. “Take care of him?”

  He was surprised by her genuine tone, though he shouldn’t have been. She clearly truly cared about his dad, and that above anything else she could have said or done told him all he needed to know about her. “Copy that.”

  She held his gaze for a beat and then she was gone, vanishing into the storm, which seemed to have doubled upon itself in the past few minutes. Crazy winds slammed sheets of rain against the roof and walls, making the house shudder.

  Cam turned to the empty doorway leading to the kitchen. “You can stop eavesdropping and come out now.”

  Emmitt poked his head out, looking only mildly sheepish. “Just making sure you two didn’t conspire against me.”

  “You deserve no less. Stay inside. I’m going after her.”

  “Is that because you’re special forces Coast Guard, Deployable Operations Group, aka DOG—”

  “Dad, I told you to stop googling that shit. I’m a Reservist now, but even if I wasn’t, it’s not something any of us would say. Plus, it’s Deployable Special Forces these days, so DSF, not DOG.”

  “Semantics, son. Once special forces, always special forces—”

  “We’d never call ourselves that.”

  “What would you call it? The elite? The best of the best? The—”

  “Dad.”

  “Oh, I know! Coasties, right? I saw that on a TV show once and—”

  Cam drew in a deep breath. “I’m going to make sure Piper gets home in one piece. Just stay out of trouble until I get back.”

  With his free hand, his dad held up what appeared to be the Vulcan sign. “Scout’s honor.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “No shit. You always are.” Emmitt’s smile faded. “But I’m sorry I didn’t tell
you about the diabetes. I didn’t want to worry you.”

  Cam pinched the bridge of his nose. For years he’d been in command of a team of Coast Guardsmen who followed his every order without question. There’d been very little personal life, and when there had been any time at all, he’d done his best to spend it with his brother and dad. But it’d been mostly just Rowan because his dad had been busy trying to stay afloat financially. This meant they weren’t as close as he’d like. Cam didn’t feel animosity or anger toward either of his parents. He thought they’d each done the best they could. But he and his dad were still unfamiliar with each other, and a little awkward.

  Cam was here because he had a few weeks off, his first leave since Rowan’s funeral three months ago, and he had a mission, a personal one. He hadn’t been able to get to it yet, but now he had to add to that mission—take care of his dad. “Just tell me you’ll stay inside and safe until I get back.”

  “No problem, as I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.” Emmitt turned back. “Oh, and one more thing. She’s good people.”

  “Who?

  “Piper. She’s had a really rough go of things, all of it unfair, and it’s been a burden that no young woman should have to bear.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Emmitt slowly shook his head. “It’s her story to tell. Or not tell.”

  “Then why are you mentioning it?”

  “Because you tend to run roughshod over people to get them to bend to your will. You knew how to handle your mother, and I’m grateful, but I’m still learning how to handle you.”

  “I don’t need handling,” Cam said.

  His dad smiled affectionately. “Maybe not, but by the looks of things, you’ve done nothing but irritate Piper. Thought you might want to change your tactic.”

  “All I’m trying to do is make sure she gets home okay. End of story.”

  With a smart-ass salute, his dad was gone.

  Cam grabbed a light windbreaker from one of the hooks by the front door and the big flashlight from the bench. When he stepped outside, the storm immediately swallowed him up. He shielded his eyes from the driving rain and found Piper just on the other side of the rivulet.

 

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