by Helen Lacey
“We are sleeping together.”
“Really?” She crossed her arms. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been sleeping alone this week.”
Cameron tried not to laugh. She was mad at him. Good. At least she was feeling something. “Missing me, then?” He let the words hang in the air for a moment.
“Not at all.”
Her resistance made him ache for her, “Sure you are,” he said and grabbed his keys. “I’ll see you Saturday, eleven o’clock.”
She still looked like she wanted to bail on their plans, but she nodded. “Okay... Saturday.”
Then he left.
* * *
On Saturday morning Cameron picked Grace up from the B and B. True to his word, he hadn’t called her. It hadn’t been easy. But he’d done some serious thinking.
She was leaving in a week and he was running out of time. He knew she was fighting it...fighting him. She didn’t want babies. She didn’t want a relationship. She didn’t want to stay in Crystal Point.
And yet, they had an incredible connection. He felt it deep within his bones. It was the kind of connection that could last a lifetime...if only she would let it.
Grace wasn’t exactly smiling when he pulled up. She got into the car and strapped on the seat belt.
“I thought you might have stood me up,” he said.
“A deal is a deal.”
“Still mad at me?”
She looked straight ahead. “Jerk.”
He laughed. “Well, it promises to be an interesting day. How are things going with you?” he asked. “Told your folks yet?”
“No,” she replied. “But it’s you we’re here to work on today, remember?”
He remembered. Cameron had a knot in his stomach thinking about it. He would much rather take Grace home and make love to her all afternoon. “I remember.”
She frowned and then her mouth was slowly drawn into a smile. “You could have called.”
“But we’re doomed, remember?”
She shifted in her seat. “I’m here now,” she said, reminding him of his words a few days earlier. “And still here for another week.”
“Does that mean you’ll be wanting my attention?”
“Jerk,” she said again and crossed her arms. “I’ve changed my mind about you. You’re as impossible as always.”
He grinned. He loved that about her. Loved that she had so much spirit.
When they arrived at the park he spotted his parents’ sedan and knew his mother would hyperventilate once she saw him with Grace.
“Everything okay?” Grace asked as he walked around the back of the car.
She smiled and he was quickly bedazzled. “I’m good. Just waiting for my mother to ask what my intentions are.”
“And what will you tell her when she does?”
Cameron’s hand stilled on the picnic basket he was pulling from the backseat. His three weeks were nearly up and the words he wanted to say remained unspoken. But he knew he needed to get them out soon. He had a plan and he was going to stick to it. He grabbed the basket and closed the door. Grace had insisted they stop at the only organic deli in town and he watched as she organized the bewildered-looking girl behind the counter and pulled together a gourmet hamper. He gazed at her as she collected a blanket and her bag, and admired how incredible she looked in a skirt, blouse and a bright red button-down sweater. His heart rate rose instantly.
“I’ll tell her we’ve stopped hating one another,” he said when she reached him.
“I never hated you,” she said and stopped beside him. “Not really.”
He touched her hand. It was their first touch in four long days. “No?”
“It was easier than facing the truth.” She shrugged. “What can I say. I’m a coward.”
Cameron squeezed her fingers. “You survived for two days alone and hurt in that car wreck. One thing you’re not, Grace, is a coward.”
She gave a brittle laugh. “It was only afterward that I fell apart.”
“Which doesn’t mean you lack courage.”
Her eyes glittered and she pulled her hand away. “Yes, well...we should get going.”
The reunion was in full force. About seventy relatives had turned up and tables topped with bright checkered clothes and crockery had been set up beneath a pair of giant trees. Away from the barbecues a group of children played and he spotted his father knee-deep into a game of Twister with a few of his great-nephews.
He saw his mother at one of the tables, sorting through plates and cutlery. She looked up as he approached and he knew the exact moment she realized Grace was at his side. Her surprised stare turned into a genuine wide smile.
She came around the table and hugged him close. “Good to see you here. Your dad will be pleased.”
Guilt twinged between his shoulders. It had been four years since he’d shown his face at a Jakowski reunion. “Yeah. I brought—”
“Grace,” his mother said, moving from him to take Grace’s hand. “Wonderful to have you here with us. You look lovely as always.”
“Thank you, Rennie.”
All of the Preston siblings called Cameron’s mother Rennie, rather than using the more traditional aunt label, which was often given to older, close family friends. “I believe you’re looking after the B and B until Evie and Scott return from their honeymoon next week?”
“That’s right.”
“And Trevor?” Irene asked of Evie’s sixteen-year-old son.
“He’s staying with his grandparents up north for another week.”
Cameron saw his mother’s brows go up. “How lovely that they have a grandson to visit them.”
He shook his head. “Two minutes.”
Irene gave an innocent look. “What?”
“Two minutes before you pull out the no-grandchildren card.” He smiled. “You’re slipping, Mother.”
He could see his mother’s mind working in overdrive. Could see her mentally planning weddings and baby showers and happily-ever-afters. He placed the basket on the table and tried to ignore the sudden acceleration of his heartbeat. Because he’d imagined them, too. By the time Lauren sidled up beside him, his mother had ushered Grace toward an adjacent table of relatives and was introducing her to a few of his cousins and their spouses.
His sister pinched his arm. “Just checking that you haven’t turned to stone.”
He frowned. “What?”
Lauren’s brows snapped up. “I couldn’t believe my eyes. Of all the women I would ever expect you to be with, she isn’t one of them.”
Cameron held on to his temper. “She has a name. And I thought you liked the Prestons?”
Lauren shrugged and her blond hair bounced around her face. “I like Evie and Mary-Jayne. And Noah,” she said, and then let out a breath. “And Grace, I suppose. Don’t mind me. I wallow in self-pity a lot these days. It keeps me company.”
“Sorry, kid,” he said and rested an arm around her shoulders. “I know you’ve had it tough.”
“That’s still no excuse for being mean,” Lauren said, then squeezed him back. “Even if I have always thought one look from those green eyes could turn a mortal man to stone.”
He grinned. “She’s not what you think.”
Lauren’s eyes glazed over. “People rarely are, I guess. But I thought you hated each other.”
“Nope.”
Cameron stayed at Lauren’s side, but his gaze moved to Grace. As she mingled with his relatives he realized nothing fazed her. The boardroom, his bedroom...a park filled with Jakowskis. She was effortlessly confident, supremely adaptable and worked the crowd as though she had known everyone for years. But he’d seen the other Grace, too—the haunting, vulnerable woman who’d fallen apart in his arms.
“Whoa,” Lauren said and tapped his shoulder. “That’s a look I haven’t seen before.” She made a face. “You really do like her?”
“I really do like her.”
I love her. And he figured his sister had probably worked that out, too.
Chapter Eleven
Grace allowed herself to be paraded around on Irene’s arm. After they’d done the rounds of most of the relatives and spent a few minutes talking with a somewhat breathless Franciszek, they headed back to their table.
“Do I have you to thank for getting Cameron here today?” Irene asked as she pulled lids off plastic containers filled with assortments of cold chicken, potato and green salads and delicious-looking coleslaw.
Grace smiled and pulled a tray of cheese and smoked ham from the basket they’d brought. “He wanted to be here.”
“That’s sweet,” the older woman said. “Although not exactly true. I know my son. But I’m grateful to you for making him see sense.” She sighed. “He thinks I don’t know why he avoids coming. But I do.”
“I’m not—”
“My husband loves him just as much as he loves Lauren.”
Grace managed a smile. “I think he knows that.”
“I hope so. Is Cameron hoping you’ll distract me?” Irene asked and smiled. “You might encourage me instead.” She paused and then quickly got straight to the point. “Are you dating again?”
Again? So she did know about their past relationship. “Not exactly.”
“Sleeping together?”
Grace’s skin burned and she dropped her gaze. “Well, I—”
“Your mother is my closest friend, Grace,” Irene said quietly. “If you and my son are involved then I’d like to know about it.”
“We’re...just...” She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what we are for sure.”
Irene tapped her arm. “I know Cameron. And I know you. I hope it works out the way you both want.”
But we both want different things.
When they sat down for lunch she was seated between Cameron and his uncle Henryk. Unsurprised to discover Cameron could speak Polish, Grace laughed as she stumbled over the pronunciation of words he tried to teach her. He placed a hand on her thigh under the table and didn’t move it for the entire duration of the meal. The awareness between them had been building all morning and so had her need for him. His desire for her made her feel both safe and scared and connected to him in ways that had her heart beating madly.
Later, while Cameron walked off to speak with his father, Grace remained with Irene and Lauren and helped clear away the leftover food. She knew both women were curious about her relationship with Cameron. When Irene wandered back to the car to grab a wicker hamper, Lauren stepped beside her.
“So, you and Cameron, huh?”
Grace placed the lid on a half-eaten tub of pasta salad. “Am I in for an interrogation? If so, I already had one of those from Rennie.”
Lauren raised both brows. “You’re both of age. You can do what you like.”
“But you don’t approve?”
“I love my brother,” Lauren said quietly. “And I wouldn’t want to see him get attached to someone who’s not going to hang around.”
Like you.
The other woman didn’t have to say it. Everyone knew her life was in New York.
Everyone knew she’d never settle for a life in Crystal Point.
“I don’t want that either,” she said and stacked the tub into a basket.
“I hope so,” Lauren said, clearly acting protective of her only sibling. “I know we’ve never really gotten along. But for Cameron’s sake we should probably make an—”
“I’ll fold the tablecloths,” Grace said, desperate to shut down the conversation. She looked around for Cameron and found he was on his way toward them. She drew in a relieved breath, grabbed the brightly colored cloth from the table and started folding.
He joined them and sidled up beside her. “Everything okay?”
Grace glanced at Lauren, who’d now moved to the other side of the table packing up picnic chairs. “Fine.”
“I’ll take you home when you’re ready.”
She glanced at her watch, saw that it was after four and figured there was little point in lingering. She certainly didn’t want to answer any more questions from Lauren or Rennie. Grace nodded and he took a few minutes to say goodbye to his family while she finished packing. By the time they were back in the car and on their way to Crystal Point it was half past the hour.
He was quiet and she wondered about his mood. It was hard to tell. Their relationship had changed so much in the past two weeks. The old Cameron she knew and was prepared for. She’d always handled the insults and sarcasm. But now things were different.
When they pulled into the driveway at the B and B the silence between them was deafening. He grabbed the basket from the backseat and headed to the side of the house and toward the door that led to the private living area upstairs. The sensor light flicked on and she pulled out the keys. Once inside, he followed her up the stairs and into the kitchen and adjoining living area.
He placed the basket on the counter before spinning around to face her. He looked tense. Maybe angry.
“Is everything all right?” she asked quietly.
“Sure.”
She twisted her hands together. “So, today wasn’t too bad.”
“You’re right, it wasn’t.” He was unreadable, impenetrable. The only sign that he was feeling anything was the tiny pulse beating in his cheek.
“Would you like coffee?” she asked, desperate for conversation.
He moved across the room and hovered in the doorway. “No, thank you.”
Inside the small room the tension between them escalated instantly. He returned her stare, blistering and intense, and so hot it almost burned through to her very soul.
Her breath caught as realization hit. It wasn’t anger that held him from her, kept him distant. It was something else. Something she’d only glimpsed once before—the time when she’d been in the bathtub. Since then, every time he’d looked at her, touched her, kissed her, she’d felt his restraint. He’d always handled her gently, as though he sensed her lingering inhibitions. Every touch had been for her—her pleasure, her needs.
This, she thought as her blood pumped with urgent anticipation—this was desire, raw and powerful. This was need generated from long days apart. This was another level, another place, another kind of connection she’d never experienced before.
He wants me.
“Cameron...I—”
“Come here.”
She stilled at the sound of his softly spoken command, felt the heat in the room rise up and sweep through to her bones. The only sounds were her heels clicking over the tiled floor as she stepped toward him.
He reached for her, moving one arm around her waist as he drew her close. “I’ve missed you.” His mouth hovered an inch from hers. “So much.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
He fisted a handful of her hair and tilted her head back. When he kissed her, hot and hard and deep, Grace pressed against him. Her blouse got crushed in the onslaught but she didn’t care. All she felt was him...his hands, his mouth, his tongue demanding hers. She gave herself up, felt his surging need and matched it. Grace dug her hands into his shoulders as he swiveled around and trapped her against the door frame. She moaned low in her throat, wild with need and an aching hunger for him that boiled her blood. He managed to push her sweater off her shoulders in between kisses and toss it aside. Her blouse gave way beneath his fingers as buttons popped. She didn’t care. She wanted his hands on her skin. She wanted him around her, over her, inside her.
Once the blouse was gone her bra was next. Cameron tugged at the straps and pushed
them down over her arms. Her breasts rose up to meet his mouth and his hot breath against one nipple, then the other, drove her beyond coherent thought. Her skirt and briefs were quickly dispensed with and Grace gasped as he picked her up rested her against his hips. She wrapped her legs around him and rocked, felt his arousal and rocked again.
She waited while he snapped the top button and zipper on his chinos. Then he was inside her, plunging deep, taking her on a wild ride. Grace wasn’t sure where he got the strength to hold her as they moved together, but with one hand braced against the door frame and the other around her hips, he supported both their weights. Pleasure built, skin burned on skin, and when it came she let herself go. Driving, aching, seeking the release she craved, Grace clung to him as they came together in a shattering wave of white-hot bliss.
It seemed an eternity before their breathing returned to normal. When he finally released her and set her on her feet, Grace realized that while she was completely naked, except for her bra settled around her waist, he was still fully clothed. He didn’t release her, though. He tucked her head beneath his chin, steadying her with one arm, the other still rested against the door frame.
“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked hoarsely after a moment.
Grace motioned down the hall and within a second he lifted her again and held her against his chest. Once in her bedroom he placed her gently by the foot of the big bed. She stayed perfectly still as he discarded his clothes. The lamplight dappled the hard contours of his shoulders and arms and she thought how she’d never seen a more beautiful man in her life. Longing rose up and hit her directly in the solar plexus.
Grace pressed against him. “Cameron...”
“I want to make love to you.”
She sighed out a breath. “Isn’t that what you just did?”
Cameron grasped her chin and tilted her head back. “That wasn’t so much making love as it was my need for you.”
“And mine for you,” she admitted on a whisper, coloring hotly. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”
He rubbed her cheek. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually let that part of my anatomy do my thinking.”