They were on Blue.
7
Cam had almost stayed home.
He’d worked a full week—six days, to be exact—and after knocking off at nearly seven, the only thing he wanted to do was sit in front of his flat screen and watch some baseball uninterrupted. The San Francisco Giants were midway through a four-game series with the Texas Rangers, and he’d missed the first two games. Cam was tired and on the cranky side, so when Mrs. Eddy had volunteered to have Tawny over for princess movie night, he’d jumped at the chance. Of course, he’d made sure Tawny was into the idea. He wasn’t going to pawn off the kid. But the little girl had practically exploded at the thought, and after her bath had pulled on pink pajamas with yellow daisies all over them, and held Mrs. Eddy’s hand all the way to the old lady’s home.
Mrs. Eddy had winked and told him she’d keep her overnight. “You’ve worked hard this week, Cameron. Why don’t you go out and have some fun?”
He’d grinned at the thought because, for once, his idea of fun was about as far away from her idea as he was from the freaking moon. Sure, he’d seen four messages from Marissa on his phone, but he didn’t feel like putting in the effort required to get the job done. Dinner and small talk definitely wasn’t something he was up for. He was content to crack open a cold one, grab some pizza from the fridge, and chill.
That is until his buddy Brandon stopped by. He was on his way to the Coach House, wanted some company because he’d just broken up with his girlfriend, and wasn’t taking no for an answer. Cain Black was doing a “surprise” show, but like everything else in this town, nothing was secret and everyone knew about it. The place would be packed, and unless you were with someone, like say the brother of the owner of the bar, chances were you wouldn’t get in. Not at nine o’clock on a Saturday night.
In the end, Brandon’s bombardment, along with the fact that Cain Black was like a national hero in these parts, got his ass off the sofa. It took exactly twenty minutes for Cam to shower and change, and by nine thirty, they were inside the Coach House.
It was hot and crowded, with a throng so thick, it was hard to move, but he saw a lot of folks he hadn’t seen in a long time and, despite himself, was having a great time. The band was in fine form, and Brandon and Cam were content to stay near the bar for most of the night. Cam had no intention of moving closer, mostly because the crush of women in front of the stage was crazy. Here, they didn’t have to wait long for drinks and could see just fine. Neither one of them moved until the band was done.
Cam was just deciding on whether to leave or stay when he caught sight of Bluebell Barnes. She was sitting up near the stage, and it took a few moments for his eyes to focus and zero in on her companions—Poppy Fairbanks and a bunch of guys he knew from back in the day, including Mick Warner, one of the biggest douchebags around. A brunette he didn’t recognize smiled at him. She licked her lips and winked, but it wasn’t the brunette who had his interest.
Cam probably should have turned away. Hell, the woman was his boss—at least for the next few weeks. But when Blue looked up at him, he felt something, and he stood a little taller as that male part of him reacted—the knuckle-dragging Neanderthal part.
He didn’t look away and neither did she. And before he could stop himself, he told Marissa the waitress to let Brandon know where he was at and headed toward Blue’s table.
“Evening,” he said, nodding to Poppy and the brunette. Mick scowled, though his pals Sean and Will were much more obliging. They said hello, shook hands, and then Cam turned his attention to Blue. “Hey.”
“Hi.” Her voice was low, and he barely heard her.
“Kind of surprised to see you here.”
Her long hair was loose and hid most of her face from him. She cupped a frosty mug in front of her, those long fingers tipped in shiny pink polish. She turned to him, a slow, sensual sort of thing that was one hundred percent unpracticed. She had that elusive bit of something that made pretty much every guy in the place look her way.
She looked up at him. Whatever he’d seen earlier was long gone. Her blue eyes were cool and reserved, and he felt a bit foolish for thinking otherwise. Though, truthfully, he shouldn’t be thinking about her anyway for a lot of reasons. Mainly because they didn’t like each other all that much.
“Why would you say that?” Her eyes narrowed, and her tone was sharp. Just like that, balance was restored.
He flashed a smile. “The Country Club is on other side of the lake.”
“I guess it is.” Her tongue darted out and then disappeared just as quick. “But they didn’t have Cain Black.”
“Amen,” the brunette said, sidling up alongside Blue. “I’m Kylie.”
He held Blue’s gaze a heartbeat longer and then turned to the newcomer. The air was definitely sizzling with something he couldn’t name, and his game was off. He welcomed the distraction. “Cam.”
She moved closer. “Nice to meet you.”
“You’re not from around here.”
“Nope. I’m from LA. I met Poppy when she moved there ten years ago. I haven’t seen her since she came back here, and she’s been bugging me to come out for a visit.” She flashed a provocative smile. “I’m glad I did.” There was no mistaking this one’s intentions. She was up for more than just conversation, and Cam filed that information away as he looked to Poppy.
“Seems as if everyone comes back to Crystal Lake.” He chuckled. “How you been?” Last he remembered, she’d moved to LA to pursue an acting career. Or was it modeling? He frowned, thinking there was more to the story, but he couldn’t remember it. She was younger than him by a few years, and their paths hadn’t crossed all that much in high school, but he remembered the popular girl because she’d always seemed so fearless.
“I’m good,” she replied with a warm smile. “I hear you’ve started your own business. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. It was the right time. Long days, but they feel good.”
“I can relate.” Poppy laughed. “Most weeks, I log more hours than I care to admit to. Doesn’t leave much time for a personal life.”
“My mom says your place is doing well. I’ll have to stop in sometime.”
She looked pleased at his comment. “It’s been a hectic few months, that’s for sure, and I’m not complaining, but it’s hard sometimes. That’s why I was happy to have Blue start working last week.”
Huh. So the rumors were true. He snuck a look at Blue, but her head was bent, that cascade of blonde silk obscuring her face once more.
An awkward silence fell between them all, with the guys jockeying for a premiere spot at the table while Kylie lapped up the attention Sean and Will heaped onto her. Mick was making small talk with Blue, while she seemed to be more interested in her mug of beer than anything else—especially Cam.
Restless, Cam rolled his shoulders and decided to leave, but Brandon showed up with a couple of cold beers and a smile as wide as the evening sky.
Poppy had up and disappeared, and after introducing Brandon to Kylie and Blue, he turned away. Mick was getting a little too close to Blue, but it wasn’t as if she was his business. He should go. The Coach House was still buzzing and would be for at least another hour, with the crowd seemingly thicker than before. Brandon took him aside, his smile lopsided.
“I want the brunette.”
“Jesus, Bran. You sound like an idiot .”
Brandon’s smile widened. “Can’t help it. She’s exactly what I need.” He nodded to the right. “The blonde looks like she’d bust balls faster than Usain Bolt running the one-hundred meter.” He chuckled. “If Mick isn’t careful, he’ll leave here without his.”
Cam hid a scowl. Mick had always been dense. It was obvious Blue had no interest in him at all. In fact, she’d downed her glass of beer and refilled another in less than five minutes—and that one was nearly empty. The conversation was one-sided, but Mick was a guy on a mission, and Cam knew that conversation didn’t matter to him. He’d hang on as long
as he could and hopefully wear her down with the hope she’d go home with him. The thought made him frown. She wouldn’t be that stupid, would she? Mick was okay in the looks department, and sure the guy hit the gym pretty hard, but he was one-dimensional, and Cam was pretty sure Blue needed more than that to hold her interest.
God, he thought. Where the hell was his brain taking him? On what planet did he even care what or who Bluebell Barnes found interesting?
He frowned and gave himself a mental shake. What was wrong with him? He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and came back with his keys. Screw it. He was leaving.
A slow song came on, the words and melody enhanced by a voice what was full of soul and dark with magic. It was blues and sex and smooth whiskey. Donovan James. Cam recognized it and wasn’t surprised when the dance floor began to fill.
“I think this is our song.” Brandon made his move, and Cam watched as Brandon looked pointedly at Kylie.
“Is it now?” she asked coyly, obviously liking what she saw in the tall, strapping man.
“Sure is,” Brandon replied, reaching for her and deftly moving her away from the other men. He didn’t pound his chest or anything, but it was a Tarzan move all the same. Sean and Will grumbled and disappeared into the crowd, no doubt looking for someone a little more receptive.
“How about it? Wanna dance?” Mick moved to make room for Blue to slip off her chair, but she emptied her glass instead and pressed unsteady fingers to her forehead. Her cheeks were flushed, and a thin sheen of sweat beaded her brow.
“You okay?” Cam asked, concern lacing his words as he took a step toward her.
“I…” She exhaled and looked at Mick before slowly turning back to Cam. She slid off the chair and wavered a bit. A whiff of a delicate floral scent wafted the air, and something hard and fierce rose up inside Cam. There was a fragility to Blue, like she was paper-thin and a strong wind could knock her down.
“You’re drunk,” he said.
“Maybe.” She looked out at the crowd and then back at Cam. No way was he leaving her here with Mick Sanders.
“Come on. I’ll take you home.”
She blew out a long breath. “Where’s Poppy?”
Cam looked around. “I don’t know, but I think you need to go.”
“Hey. I got this.” Mick stepped closer, and Cam nailed him with a hard look.
“Step back, Sanders.”
“What the hell, Booker. You think you got dibs on every female in the place?” Mick clenched his fists and began to posture, just as Tiny, the huge bouncer and part-time bartender, appeared. “You boys okay?” he asked lightly. His bald head shone beneath the muted lighting as he looked them over, and his wide shoulders stretched his T-shirt menacingly.
“We’re good,” Cam said. “Mick’s just leaving, and I’m taking the lady home. She’s had enough for one night. Can you let Poppy and Brandon know?”
“Sure thing.” Tiny arched a brow toward Mick. “Time to drink up and leave.”
Cam slid his arm around Blue’s shoulder and began to head toward the exit, but she surprised him and grabbed his arm.
“Wait. I…” She licked her lips, and damned if something inside him didn’t get all twisted up. “I love this song.”
She tugged on his arm and pulled him back to the dance floor. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look up at him. She just sort of melted into his body, and before he knew what he was doing, Cam wrapped one arm around her waist and drew her in as close as he could.
The aching and simple strains of the song washed over them as they moved in the crowd, their hips in sync, their feet in time to the sultry beat. The song talked about pain, betrayal, and a need so bad, it hurt. It talked about the pull and never letting go. Funny. Cam had never listened to the words before.
He moved, and Blue followed. Her scent and warmth enveloped him in a way he’d never experienced. Her cheek was against his chest, and her small hand folded into his. He could have stayed that way for another hour or so. Maybe all night.
When the song was over, a lot of folks kept moving, mouths fused, fingers trailing, bodies melted together. He felt Blue stiffen and let his hands fall away from her. For a moment, he just took her in. All that hair. A mouth that was overly plump, those breasts that strained against her T-shirt. She was dressed in jeans, and yet she was just as sexy as if she were standing in lingerie or…
Or what?
Fuck. Cam stood back and ran his hands through his hair, not liking where his mind was headed. Him and Blue weren’t a thing. Hell, they could never be a thing even if she actually liked him, which he wasn’t so sure she did. Cam Booker and Bluebell Barnes moved in two different worlds, and she was a lot more complicated than he’d ever imagined. At the moment, Cam had enough complications in his life.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t human. That didn’t mean he couldn’t see the sadness in her eyes. He wanted to ask her if she was okay, because something felt off. But he didn’t. Instead, he got his shit together and reached into his front pocket for his keys.
“I’ll take you home now.”
Blue nodded and let him lead her out to the parking lot, where she jumped into his truck and turned toward the window without a word. She stared out into space while he kept his eyes on the road. The drive out to the lake was silent. Hell, he didn’t even turn on the radio. He pulled up in front of her house. She reached for the door and opened it. He watched her, unsure of what had gone down, unsure of how to react, but knowing he should just keep his mouth shut. Blue saved him from making an ass out of himself with a small wave as she offered up a smile.
“Thank you.” She ran up the wide concrete steps and let herself into the darkened home. After a bit, a light came on upstairs, a soft glow that spilled outside.
He waited a few more seconds, and then Cam headed into the night.
8
Blue was feeling meh—she had a fuzzy head and no energy—just meh.
She guessed it had something to do with all the beer she’d ingested the night before. And that slow dance with Cam Booker hadn’t helped. The beer she could deal with but it was the dancing thing that had kept her up all night. She couldn’t stop thinking about how, in his arms, everything in her world had felt perfect and warm and safe.
She’d been fighting her whole life, it seemed—always a battle to deal with—and always alone. Her mother hadn’t been much help. In fact, most of the time, she’d been part of the problem. Her father had bailed exactly one week after her twelfth birthday, and her brother, Cash, left home two years later when he was eighteen. As much as she understood his reasons, his leaving had devastated her. She hadn’t seen him again until years later and then, well, there’d been Arizona.
She squeezed her eyes shut. God, she didn’t want to think about Arizona. That had been one of the darkest moments in her life, and she’d dragged Cash into it. She would never forgive herself for what had gone down, nor would she forget the guilt and shame and sorrow.
Bluebell Barnes was alone, and she liked it that way because no one got hurt. But, for just that moment, it had been nice to lean on someone, to let Cam’s energy slide over her and sink into her pores.
It had been nice to feel as if, for those few minutes at least, she mattered to someone.
And then it was gone and she was home, alone in this big space that felt more like a prison. She’d gotten up at the crack of dawn and downed two aspirins before jumping in the shower to wake up and hitting the gym for a vigorous workout. She was restless and bored and, well, in a funk. Why else would a person find themselves on a beautiful Sunday afternoon at the mall, wandering the stores aimlessly? She could have taken the boat onto the lake or done just about anything else other than shopping.
Instead, she was at the mall hoping some retail therapy would make her feel better. But nothing she looked at sparked interest. Not the crimson Prada bag or the pink Louboutin shoes with the pretty ribbon. The shoes alone would have brought a smile
to any woman’s face. And yet, she’d tried them on and eventually told the salesgirl she wasn’t interested.
Pink. Louboutin. Shoes.
Yep. She was in a full-on funk and had no idea how to crawl out of it.
With a sigh, she took the escalator to the bottom level, thinking a cold iced coffee from Starbucks would be good for the ride home. It was nearly two in the afternoon, and she’d been here long enough. Maybe she’d dig out a good book and at least salvage the afternoon. There was that one with the firefighter and the paramedic. She followed the signs to the food court—it was about a two-minute hike to the other end of the mall, and she hurried along, eyes ahead, sneakers squeaking on the polished tiles. She’d dressed casual for the trip, a simple light blue sundress and the squeaky white sneakers. She’d applied some light gloss and pulled her hair back into a messy knot.
There was a large group of teens in front of a store taking selfies and laughing. She had to alter her course a bit in order to get around them, but didn’t mind. When she did, she nearly collided with a man. And a little girl. The little girl had a very serious look on her face as she pulled on the man’s arm. While the man held on to several bags with his other hand—all of them pink and girlie and so feminine, they looked sort of ridiculous in his possession. Because his arms were impressive. And his muscles.
They both looked up as Blue slid to a halt.
Cam Booker didn’t say a word, but the little girl jumped up and down in excitement.
“Blue!” Tawny dropped Cam’s hand as if it were on fire and launched herself at Blue. “I missed you. Where were you? How come I had to go to Honey’s?” Tawny’s face scrunched up. “Her baby smells nice, but he cries a lot, and it makes my ears hurt.”
Blue couldn’t help but smile. “Babies do cry.”
“I know,” Tawny replied, not letting go of Blue’s hand. “Cam told me he was going to buy me earplugs.” She shook her head, all serious. “My mommy told me not to stick things in my ears. I did it once with a Q-tip and it hurted. So I don’t want earplugs.”
The Thing About Trouble Page 6