Santa Cam (MyHeartChannel Romance)

by Maria Hoagland

  “I’m surprised to see you here.” His eyes darted around the room as if he were embarrassed, but no one was making him speak to her. “But it is really good to see you.” His eyes slid down her form like mud oozing around her.

  “Asher, this is Camden Sharpe. He plays for DFW United.” A confused look crossed Asher’s brow, but Talia didn’t buy it. “He also plays for the US soccer team.” Let him pretend that didn’t mean something to him.

  “Oh, right,” Asher sneered. “The guy whose barroom brawl sent him groveling to you for some quick PR turnaround as DFW’s sweet little Santa Cam.” Asher was certainly brazen for someone a good four inches shorter than the object of his ridicule. “I can’t believe he fooled Talia’s Truth Cam.” Asher gave a derisive laugh. He started to turn away but stopped. “But then again, I was able to for two years.”

  She couldn’t believe he was actually admitting his duplicity and bringing it up again in such a public place. Camden’s even, steady breathing calmed her. He, too, had been attacked, and if Cam could hold back from reacting, she could as well. With no further response, Asher and the couple went their separate ways.

  Cam led her to the bar, where they both ordered sparkling cider. “He was certainly a joy.” Cam’s sarcasm brought the release of a chuckle. “Want to fill me in? You two apparently have a history.”

  Talia hadn’t intended to get into something as serious or heavy so early in their relationship, but maybe it was better sooner rather than later. “Ex-fiancé.” She breathed out a frustrated sigh.

  “You dodged a bullet there.”

  Cam was trying to help her focus on the positives of ending the relationship, she was sure, but she didn’t exactly feel like she’d come through the ordeal years ago unscathed, and tonight Asher had poked at the scarred wounds.

  “True.” She didn’t want to think about it anymore. “Let’s dance. Forget the networking; forget working the room. Let’s have some fun.”

  The plea came out as desperate, but the way he took her hand and twirled her under his arm and then onto the dance floor chased away her fears. “I thought you’d never ask.” As if he’d been waiting. The man could have extended the invitation himself.

  As soon as she was in his arms, she felt her anxiety over the confrontation with Asher slip away. Camden’s touch at the neckline on her shoulder was both calming and exciting, a paradox she wouldn’t mind looking into more.

  “I’m honored you came with me tonight. I’m really sorry I put you into an uncomfortable situation.” Camden’s hazel green-brown eyes looked at her as if she were the only woman in the room, as if they were no more than having an intense conversation, yet her knees threatened to melt beneath her with each word. His husky whisper was going to do her in.

  He leaned closer, his cheek brushing hers, and she closed her eyes at its satin feel. She’d noticed how good he looked that night, but she hadn’t dissected the look enough to realize his smooth-shaven face was half of the allure.

  “My pleasure.” The skin-to-skin contact certainly was for her, but that wasn’t what she wanted him to think she meant. It was so much more. It was amazing how connected she felt to him in such a short time. There never was a man more perfect for her—how he encouraged her and helped her find what was truly making her happy. “Thank you for all you’ve done for my channel and my career. I think both would be completely dead by now if it hadn’t been for you.”

  He guided her around another couple as smoothly as he would turn a forward on a soccer field to steal the ball. On the dance floor, he was stealing her heart just as deftly. “That was all you, Talia.” She loved the way her name felt safe on his lips. “#SeeTheGood was your vision, and it paid off. I’m happy to have been a part of it—happy to have seen the good in Texas Christmases . . . even though I’d still rather be in Cobble Creek.” The way he bit back his teasing smile melted her heart. “Besides, as Ash—”

  She narrowed her eyes at him in warning, and he kept himself from finishing the name.

  “As many would correctly point out,” he continued, “you helped me as much as I helped you. The owners, managers, and my agent have all been pleased with the results.”

  The song ended, and when the band didn’t start another, Talia stepped back from Camden. Her hands, heavy with disappointment, fell to her side. She was enjoying dancing with him.

  “If everyone will please take your seats,” a woman in a sequined gown announced, “we’ll get started with the auction in a few minutes.”

  Camden led Talia off the dance floor. “Let’s go over there?” He pointed the direction with the tip of his head.

  Talia looked over to see Kendall smiling at them from one of the round tables near the middle of the room. When they reached the table, Talia slipped into the seat next to her, which left the men reaching behind the women to shake hands.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for being here tonight. This year’s gala and Christmas tree auction is hosted by your DFW United Shooting Stars and benefiting research at the children’s hospital.”

  Polite applause filled the room, and Camden leaned toward Talia. “That’s Shane Jones, the manager of the DFW United Shooting Stars,” Camden said in a low voice. The pleasant upturn in his lips said he liked his boss, or at least respected him. “I honestly expected one of the owners to emcee.” Camden glanced at the men standing behind Mr. Jones. “But Shane’s way more interesting to listen to.”

  “We appreciate the generosity of each corporation and individual who donated a tree for auction and hope each of you will be equally generous in your bids for them. While I thought it would be a good idea for each donor to come up to the front while their tree is being auctioned, apparently that is not the way things are done here.”

  The laughter was even lighter and more polite than the applause.

  “I guess when you’re the coach of a professional team, you’re used to calling people out for the good and bad they do, but what do I know?” Shane raised his hands. “Because of this, I’ve been told to surrender my microphone to nationally recognized auctioneer Rosalie Cayhill to do the honors.”

  A beautiful woman, probably close to 5’10”, stepped out to claim the microphone from Jones. The applause grew, Camden’s chin dropped, and Talia’s heart sank. And here she’d been congratulating herself that Cam wasn’t like most men—or at least not like Asher in that way. She took a deep breath. Okay, so he’d reacted. She took a mental step back. That didn’t mean anything, though she looked to Zeke to gauge the seriousness of the infraction, but he didn’t seem to have noticed the auctioneer. Talia pressed her lips together and then forced a smile, waiting for the woman to start her thing.

  “Thank you, Dallas–Fort Worth, for bringing me here tonight.” She had the perfect smile and graceful motions, but there was something more to her—a down-to-earth casualness that Talia couldn’t help but connect with. “Now, I don’t know how much experience y’all have with auctioneers, but I’ve had the chance to travel a fair bit for my job, and when I do, I like to find a lovely assistant to help me feel at home. Lucky for me, I hear there’s a whole team of handsome soccer players to choose from.” Rosalie raised a slender finger drawing it over the crowd as she swept her gaze across the room.

  Talia couldn’t help but smile at the woman’s ironic use of “lovely assistant” to grab people’s attention. If this were a male magician, for example, his asking in exactly those terms wouldn’t have been noticed by some in the crowd, but others would have been offended by the sexism of it. Talia appreciated how Rosalie had turned the slight on its head.

  “How about you?” Rosalie pointed to Talia’s left. “You with the thick, dark hair and the big muscles.” She caught Camden’s eye when he lifted his eyebrows in question. “Yes, you with the crooked bow tie, come on up here and I’ll help you with that.” She set a fist on her hip provocatively—if Camden was into that whole “being mothered” thing.

  But maybe she wasn’t talking to Camden.
Talia looked over, and sure enough, his bow tie was askew. How had she not noticed?

  He stood and walked toward the stage, straightening his tie. When he got to the podium, he leaned in to commandeer the mic. “I think I’ve got it now, Rosalie,” he said with familiarity. “Thanks for keeping me straight.”

  The crowd chuckled.

  “Perhaps you didn’t realize it’s all part of my duties.”

  Camden made a show of rolling his eyes. “Oh, I thought it had more to do with your ability to talk faster than Lorelai Gilmore, have a sense of humor better than Anjelah Johnson’s, and be easier on the eye than Kristen Bell.” He shrugged as if he didn’t care. “But I guess your real talent is being smarter than Hermione Granger for bringing me up here to make you look good.” He tugged on the lapels of his tuxedo jacket.

  What a flirt. Talia wanted to let it go like water through her fingers, but she couldn’t help keeping score. That was his second strike when it came to Rosalie Cayhill. Talia blew out a shallow breath. This was all for entertainment; it wasn’t real.

  Rosalie ignored him and returned her attention to the crowd. “In case you aren’t familiar with this smart aleck, may I introduce Camden Sharpe.” She gave him a playful, appraising look. “The tux is a bit of a change. He’s usually covered in dirt and grass on the soccer pitch, so I understand if you didn’t recognize him. I almost didn’t myself.”

  She laid a hand on his forearm, as if claiming him. The familiarity of the move made Talia feel ill, and she reached for her water glass. As she took a sip, her eyes flitted uncontrollably toward Asher, who was sneering at her with such satisfaction that she looked away, her face flaming. It was all she could do to keep from patting the cool condensation from the glass onto her flaming cheeks. Instead, she feigned nonchalance as she allowed her gaze to float away slowly.

  “Are we supposed to know this auctioneer?” she asked Kendall, hoping she sounded indifferent, curious. “If she’s a celebrity, maybe I should interview her for my MyHeartChannel.” If she could figure out an aspect to #SeeTheGood, because right now, she had the temptation to #PickOutTheBad or #FocusOnHerFlaws.

  Kendall shrugged. “Can’t say I know anything about auctioneers.” She kept her attention on the stage, but grabbed Zeke’s hand and gave it a light squeeze. Did she even realize she did that, or was that automatic?

  “The first Christmas tree we’re going to auction off tonight is Camden’s, because I have to say I was blown away by the presentation. Who knew you had this decorating flair?”

  “You know my—” Camden walked toward the mic, but the rest of his comment was drowned out as her heels clicked away from him. She went to his tree.

  How would Rosalie Cayhill know Camden this well? A flicker of understanding heated the back of her neck. Camden had used Talia to rehab his reputation, but this whole time he’d been a player. How had she not seen this coming?

  “This adorable tree,” Rosalie was saying, “is everything I feel about Christmas.” With all the drama of a thirteen-year-old with a new love, Rosalie placed a hand over her heart. “It is everything I imagine Dallas–Fort Worth is. The ornaments appear handmade but are of the highest quality. They are rustic yet elegant. I understand everything was made locally here in Texas—I mean, look at these adorable cotton boll angels. That’s right, they’re not cotton balls; they’re cotton bolls before they’re processed. Isn’t that right, Cam?”

  She was frustratingly adorable. And she used his nickname. Talia’s stomach roiled.

  “This tree, to me, is about hearts, homes, and happily-ever-afters.” Rosalie gave a dramatic pause.

  Talia was torn between being proud of her work and annoyed that Camden was taking all the credit for decorating the tree, but honestly, that was his right. Had he hired a professional decorator, the decorator’s name wouldn’t have come up—the donor got the credit. And truth be told, she was slightly jealous that Rosalie had put her feelings into the words Talia hadn’t expressed. She was humbled that her tree said all that.

  “Who would like to start the bidding?”

  Minimums had been discreetly posted on the bottom of the program, so the numbers went high quickly. The generosity in the room flowed, as much a testament to the power of Rosalie’s words as to the good-heartedness of the people at the event.

  When the winning bid was announced, Rosalie congratulated the winner. “I was told that Camden Sharpe plans to match the winning bid as well.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed. And she didn’t let go. “I always knew you had a good heart in there somewhere.”

  The crowd gave an enthusiastic response.

  Camden reached over and took the microphone. “Enough about me. Isn’t Rosalie Cayhill amazing? I mean, I’ve heard good auctioneers before, but Rosalie …” He handed back the microphone and started clapping enthusiastically.

  Talia joined in with the applause, but maybe not quite as wholeheartedly as he did. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, he’d been right about the way he’d described her at first—talking fast and smart and all that.

  “Thank you.” Rosalie smiled but motioned her hand for everyone to quiet down. “But I think he’s trying to deflect attention from himself.”

  He leaned over, his face so close to hers that she probably felt the smoothness of his shave. “Which is exactly what a good assistant is supposed to do.”

  She grabbed his hand again and raised it into the air. “Camden Sharpe is the real deal.” She dropped his hand but then snaked an arm around his waist and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping away to a respectable distance. “But enough of that—”

  Talia couldn’t agree more. She’d had enough. She’d gotten what she’d come for—introductions and networking, even a dance and a chance to see how the tree fared in the auction—but now she was ready to be done with the evening, done with Camden and his flirting in front of everyone. He’d made a fool of her, and she wasn’t going to sit here and take it any longer.

  She placed a hand on Kendall’s arm to get her attention. “I’m not feeling well. Tell Cam I caught a ride home.”

  “Do you want me to drive you?” Kendall’s eyebrows drew together. “Are you okay by yourself?”

  Talia nodded. “I’ll be fine.” Onstage, Camden and Rosalie were in the middle of more banter, which solidified her resolve. “Thank you.”

  Talia slipped out of her chair and walked with her back straight and head held high right out the door, even as Rosalie announced the next tree to be auctioned off.

  Why did Talia feel she’d just lost when she hadn’t even submitted a bid?

  20

  By the time Camden got off the stage after each of the trees had been auctioned off, Talia was long gone. He’d seen her leave, so calm and dignified, he’d assumed she was taking a phone call or a break to the restroom, but when she didn’t come back, his mood soured significantly.

  The auction portion of the evening had taken over an hour and a half, and he hadn’t even known to give her a heads-up before being dragged up front. He couldn’t blame her for getting bored and leaving, but without her, he wasn’t that interested in remaining for the rest of the evening himself.

  He pulled out his phone. Since he hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye, maybe she would allow him to stop by, even though it was already pretty late. With all the noise in the room, he opted for a text.

  Camden: Missed saying good night. Can I come by your apartment?

  Whether she would allow him or not, he was heading out as soon as he was able, but first he had to say goodbye to a couple of people. It took her so long to get back to him that he was already getting his coat when he felt his phone buzz over his chest.

  Talia: Now?

  Camden: I was hoping to. Early flight tomorrow.

  Talia: Then you need your sleep.

  Camden: I can sleep on the plane, but I can’t see you tomorrow.

  Talia: Why do you need to? It seems our scheme was successful—your name is cleared and yo
u are obviously a favorite now.

  He wasn’t sure what she was trying to say here, but it was obvious she was upset. He took a few deep breaths before responding.

  Camden: Can I stop by to talk about what’s upset you?

  Talia: I’m not upset. I should have known. What was that about peeling back the onion? I never would have found an apple. If you peel back the layers of an onion, it’s always going to be an onion.

  Camden’s head was spinning. He only vaguely remembered the onion conversation. What had they been saying that day? That when you looked deeper, sometimes you found the unexpected? His thumbs hovered over the phone screen, but the words wouldn’t come.

  Another response came from her.

  Talia: Now that we’re done using each other, we can move on—as you clearly already did tonight. Enjoy Cobble Creek.

  Move on? As he had tonight? His mind slipped like a boot in mud—gaining no traction until the truth of it hit him like his backside on the pitch. Rosalie Cayhill. He shook his head.

  Camden: Don’t you know me at all?

  The dots showing she was typing bounced up and down for what seemed like forever and then disappeared. Had she changed her mind? Then her response came through.

  Talia: I’m not sure I do.

  What was that even supposed to mean? He’d been himself in every single way with her, had given her every chance to get to know the real him. And now she was questioning who he was?

  He scrambled for another reply, eventually deciding.

  Camden: Please let me drop off my Christmas present. Five minutes.

  He climbed into the back of his limo, waiting for her to respond so he could direct the driver. After five solid minutes of silence, he dropped his phone back into his jacket pocket. “3223 Magnolia Lane,” he told the driver. There was no reason to go anywhere other than home.

  Eventually, Camden fell asleep Saturday night, and by the time he eased back into his chair on the plane the next day, he was determined to relegate Talia Thomas to his past once and for all. With Seattle and now this, she was way more of a puzzle than he needed in his life. He had enough drama on the soccer pitch and in the locker room, with the media who would make a federal case over anything, and with fans who would turn on him like a rabid squirrel. If he was going to risk a relationship, it needed to be one way less complicated than this was turning out to be.