16
Bluebell Barnes, formerly known as Bluebell Liza Bodine, had been named after her grandmother as a way to piss off her father. He’d disliked his mother-in-law more than he disliked peas—and everyone knew he’d rather eat a live cockroach than let even one green pea pass his lips. Her grandmother, Bluebell Jane Jeffers, was from the Deep South, where the old ways were the only ways.
And the Bodines, well, they were Yankees.
Her grandmother was of the mind that this tall, dark Yankee from the North wasn’t good enough for her fragile Southern rose. And she never let an opportunity pass without letting Mason Bodine know exactly what she thought of him.
As it turned out, Blue’s grandmother was sadly mistaken. Blue’s mother, Lila, was more than a match for Mason Bodine. Both of them were self-centered, narcissistic, and, at times childish human beings who had no business having babies of their own. Had they ever known the damage they’d done? No, she thought bitterly. People like her parents never owned up to their mistakes, and the memories they created would never go away. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block them out, but it was no use.
* * *
The cicadas were loud—their call sharp and sweet at the same time—and the air was heavy with the late-evening fragrance of summer. Purple wisteria climbed along the trellis that bordered the Bodine backyard, along with roses, moonflower, and the low-lying gardenia bushes in the corner. The summer before, Mason Bodine had spent a small fortune installing an in-ground pool along with a lovely patio made of flagstone—shaded by a pergola, of course—and an outdoor kitchen any chef would drool over. It didn’t matter that neither Mason nor Lila cooked all that well or even enjoyed spending time creating culinary masterpieces. What mattered was the impression it gave anyone lucky enough to snag an invite to the Bodine backyard.
On this particular afternoon, the Bodines had the place to themselves. Lila was stretched out on a lounge chair, her long, trim legs shown to perfection, her skimpy bathing suit showing more than it hid. Some would think it was a play to get attention from her husband, when in fact it was more or less Lila’s vanity and her love of self. The woman liked nothing more than to admire all the gifts her genetics had given her.
Gifts that had been passed along to her daughter. Already the young girl was a beauty, with her Nordic blonde hair, stunning eyes, and a rosebud mouth. Lila loved the attention Blue created, because that attention reflected positively on herself. But on this afternoon, there was no company. No one to primp and preen for. What did she care how adorable her offspring was if there was no one there to see it?
As Blue happily splashed in the pool, her four-year-old body rambunctious with more energy than she knew what to do with, her mother read a magazine while occasionally staring down at her perfectly pedicured toes and admiring her calf, sculpted to perfection from years of dance. Her father was on the telephone, deep in conversation with someone who mattered more than his family, and her brother, Cash, was covered in shadows, playing war with his toy figures in the far recesses of the yard.
Blue wore two floaties on her arms, white with pink flamingos, but one of them started to lose air. She was in the deep end of the pool and started to panic because it was harder for her to keep her head above water. Her voice was impossibly soft, and at first, no one noticed her peril. Mason Bodine was still wrapped up in his conversation as he prowled the edges of the patio, and her mother was too wrapped up in herself.
Blue went under several times, her arms flailing, her little legs kicking. She screamed as loudly as she could, and finally, Lila Bodine looked over. Blue locked eyes with her mother, by then hoarse and unable to utter a word. She willed her terror to be felt. Lila turned from Blue and yelled across the way.
“Mason, grab that annoying child. I can’t relax with all that fuss.”
But Mason didn’t bother to investigate. His body was turned away, and he motioned wildly with one arm as he growled into his phone.
“Mason!”
Knowing his wife wouldn’t stop shouting—God forbid she actually do something—he glanced over and covered the speaker. “Shut that kid up. This is an important call, and I can’t hear shit.”
By this time, Blue was losing strength. She gulped for air, terrified of going under again. Then she stopped moving. She had no more strength left. As the water closed over her head, she caught sight of her parents arguing instead of helping her, and the pain inside expanded until it threatened to weigh her down so badly, she knew she wouldn’t break the surface again.
Her vision blurred. Her chest felt as if it were going to explode.
And then two arms wrapped around her and hauled her out of the pool. Coughing up water and struggling to breathe, she clung to her brother, shaking, crying hysterically. Cash hugged her and told her she was okay. He got her out, and she didn’t have to be scared anymore. Cash was seven.
Neither Mason or Lila noticed.
* * *
Blue shook her head and sighed. Her parents had been a volatile combination of impossibly good looks (so they were used to getting what they wanted, no matter the cost) and huge egos (being wrong was a state of mind they didn’t tolerate), with the ability to avoid consequence to action at any cost. Some days, Blue wondered how in hell she made it out with her own humanity intact.
Some days, she wondered if she ever had. There was always a black cloud, it seemed, and today was no different.
Her mother had left a nasty voicemail first thing this morning. It had been Lila’s birthday the day before, and Blue hadn’t called to wish her a happy birthday. In Blue’s defense, she’d been busy, out with a property agent looking at buildings for a project she was considering—a project sparked by none other than little Tawny. It didn’t matter that Lila never called Blue when it was her birthday. That would be the whole narcissistic thing. It had set the tone for the day, and nothing seemed to go right.
Things had gotten worse when, after work, she’d rushed home to shower and change for her date with Cam and Tawny, only to find Edward Barnes waiting for her.
“Where the hell have you been?” he barked, pushing off from his car and rounding hers before she could let herself out. It was always a pissing contest with the man, and he loved to lean over her—his attempt to make her feel small and insignificant. The whole bad-mood thing? It exploded into something else entirely, and she pushed against her door, making him stumble back and nearly trip.
She was done taking crap.
Except that Edward was taller. Stronger. And he was definitely much angrier.
“Tony Palitto called me today,” he said, taking a step forward. Blue saw the veins bulging in his neck and the way his eyes glittered. Somewhere deep inside her, alarms bells began to clang, and she clutched at her purse.
“He said you’re looking at commercial space.” Edward leered at her. “For a fucking dance studio? Are you kidding me?”
So that’s what this was about. She glared at the man.
“I’m not sure why or how this isn’t getting through to you, Edward. What I do with my time and money isn’t any of your concern.”
“Everything you do is my concern, because everything you do affects me.”
God, she was so tired of the same fight.
“Edward, I don’t have time for this.” She made to move around the man, but he grabbed her arm, and pain sliced up all the way to her shoulder. He yanked her close—so close she could see the fine wrinkles in the corners of his eyes and smell the pungent aftershave he favored.
“You go when I say you can, bitch.” Spittle formed at the sides of his mouth, and her stomach turned. All that violence and hatred in his eyes was more than enough to make her feel sick. And even though she hated to admit it, she was scared.
“Edward, you’re hurting me.” Her voice was a little too high, and her heart sat in her throat. She tried to back away, but all it did was manage to thrust her chest forward, and his gaze landed there and stayed.
A slow,
dark grin slid across his face, and he leaned closer. “This get you worked up? Is that all it takes?” He pressed even closer, and she thought she would be sick. He made no effort to hide his erection, and she felt his hardness against her hip. “I could bend you over this car right now.” His hot breath made her gag. “And screw you into tomorrow if I wanted to.”
“You’re disgusting,” she spat, trying to keep her fear and helplessness from showing.
“And you’re a whore.” He slid his large, beefy hand over her face and stuck his forefinger in her mouth. Blue felt bile clog her throat, but it was met with red-hot anger.
“You’re going to back off with the dance studio, and you’re going to sign over control of the company to me. It’s mine.” His eyes bulged. “Or I’ll make sure you’re the sorriest bitch on the planet, and I’ll damn well enjoy doing it.”
She bit his finger—hard—at the same time she kneed him right where it hurt the most. Edward swore a blue streak and staggered back, hunched over as his face contorted in rage. Blue didn’t hesitate. She ran for the house, her long legs eating up the distance in no time. She was inside with the door locked before Edward was able to even think about grabbing her again.
Chest heaving, she bit her lip in order not to cry and peeked out the window. Edward Barnes stared up at the house with a look on his face that was chilling. He stood there for several long moments, and then, as if he knew she was watching, spat on her Honda before sliding inside his expensive SUV.
Five seconds later, he was gone.
Ten seconds later, Blue sent Cam a text message canceling their plans for the evening. She was upset and shaking from the strength of it. He would know something was wrong, and Cam wouldn’t give up until he knew why. She wasn’t ready to share the dark side of her life with him. God, he had enough to worry about.
Twenty seconds later, she was curled into the large circular sofa in the family room, Giselle purring against her chest as the fear and anger and frustration slowly left her body.
Blue wasn’t sure how long she stayed there—she’d dozed off—but it was dark by the time she pulled herself up. The cat circled her food bowl, and she filled it with kibble and then topped up the water. She was hungry but didn’t feel like eating and, after making sure the security alarm was set, headed for her bedroom and a hot shower, where she stayed until her fingers began to prune.
Restless, Blue pulled on a faded gray sweatshirt and baggy sweatpants, wincing as pain shot up her forearm. The bastard had grabbed her hard, and already it was starting to bruise. He’d threatened her and made her feel more vulnerable than she’d felt in a long, long time. She knew she had to deal with him, but she didn’t know what to do. David was adamant that his son not have control over the company. It had been his greatest sorrow that his only child wasn’t deserving of the gifts he’d been given. In a way, Edward Barnes had broken his father’s heart. He’d stomped on it and tossed it away with no regret.
The will was ironclad. Edward couldn’t break it, and he knew that. So, being the bully he was, he thought threatening Blue physically would get the job done.
She shook her head and walked over to the large window that overlooked the lake. He was a fool if he thought that kind of violence would shake her foundation. She’d been through worse. But she was tired. And alone. And so damn tired of being alone.
In the distance, lights shimmered across the water. She listened to the sounds of her home, to the heaviness of its weight. It was a sound steeped in sadness. Somewhere in the house, her cell phone pinged, and she ran downstairs, scooping it from her purse on the counter in the kitchen. Heart beating fast, she hit the button and held her breath.
It was from Cash. A quick message to let her know he was in Albany, New York, and that he was fine. He also said he might have some news to share, but didn’t elaborate. Always mysterious, her brother.
Blue clutched the phone close to her chest and bit her lip. Cam had read her message, but there was no response. Was he mad? Disappointed? Giselle meowed, threading her supple body through Blue’s legs before disappearing around the corner, no doubt headed for the comfy chair she’d claimed as her own. The furry creature was so independent. She didn’t need anyone really.
Blue used to be like that.
Thoughts and feelings collided inside her, and before she knew what she was doing, she’d slipped her feet into an old pair of flip-flops in the mudroom, grabbed her purse, and let herself outside. Her hair was still damp from the shower, and she shivered from the coolness of the evening air. She hopped into her car and pointed it toward Crystal Lake.
Toward Cameron Booker.
His truck was in the driveway, and she parked behind it, cutting the engine but not getting out. Soft light fell from the large bay window, and she saw a shadow cross in front of it. Blue held her breath, and then the door opened.
Cam leaned against the doorframe, his tall frame silhouetted in darkness, but she felt the strength of him as he gazed across the lawn to where she was parked. Was she going to do this? Cross a line she’d never crossed before? Because she knew that if she did, she wouldn’t be able to go back. And that crossing this particular line put her in danger—or at least her heart. Blue slowly got out of her car and made her way up the path that led to his home. The path that led to him.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“You okay?” he asked, concern lacing his words like warm butter.
She was trembling, whether from the cold or the fact that she was about to take a huge leap of faith. Offering up a small smile, she shrugged, not sure if she could trust her voice.
“I’m tired, Cam.”
He was quiet, but those eyes of his were alive, watching her closely, their dark depths intense.
“I’m tired of standing on the outside looking in. Of feeling like I don’t belong. Tired of being alone. Tired of feeling like life is on the right side of the road, but I’m hurtling down the left, leaving everything that matters behind. I just want…” Her voice broke, and she exhaled, squeezing her eyes shut as she hung her head. What the hell was she doing here? Did she really think she could bring her crap into his world? Didn’t Cam have enough to deal with already?
But then warm fingers slid underneath her chin, and slowly, he forced her head up until his dark eyes slammed into hers.
“What do you want?” he asked.
Her throat was tight, and she swallowed hard. She wanted to look away because she felt so damn exposed, but couldn’t, and eventually, her throat loosened. A heartbeat passed.
“I want everything,” she said softly.
Cam didn’t flinch at her words. In fact, his eyes darkened even more, as if the center had become whole, and he made a noise at the back of this throat. It was a primitive, primal sort of thing, and Blue’s blood sang.
He moved back. Gave her some room. Blue didn’t hesitate and walked inside.
17
Cam’s heart banged a mile a minute as Blue sailed past him. He’d put Tawny to bed less than an hour earlier and had checked on her ten minutes ago. She was fast asleep, curled up in the corner, snuggled among a posse of stuffed animals.
He had the place to himself.
The air crackled with energy—an unseen force that sizzled and sparked red-hot desire. Did she feel what he did? He and Blue had been dancing around this moment for weeks now. Hell, months even. The first time they met, sparks had flown. Of course, he’d been too stupid to recognize what those sparks were. But that was okay. It would make tonight sweeter. Hotter. He just had to keep his shit together, because no way was he going to rush this. Blue needed time, and this had to be done on her say.
“Do you want—” he began.
“No,” she interrupted him.
To have a drink?
She read his mind. “I don’t want a drink.” She moved closer. “I don’t to want to chill or watch a movie or eat popcorn.” She was so close now, he could feel the heat from her body. “I don’t want to talk or listen to
music.” She touched his chest. “And I don’t want to cuddle on your sofa either.” She turned her face up, and it took everything in Cam not to grab her mouth with his and kiss her senseless.
“I want to feel what it’s like to be with you. To touch you. For you to touch me.” She smiled then, a small sort of thing, as if just realizing her power. “I want to know what it’s like to have you inside me. I want to know if…” She caught herself and blushed, looking away quickly as if her bravado had fled.
“What?” he prodded gently.
Blue worried her bottom lip and eventually met his gaze. “I’ve never…” She swallowed hard. “That is, I’ve…I don’t think I’ve ever had an orgasm.”
Cam was surprised. Most women he knew could take care of business on their own and they were more than capable of telling him exactly what they needed. But Blue wasn’t most women. She was about as far away from the sex-kitten persona most folks in town associated with her as he was from the damn moon.
“Maybe I have,” she whispered.
A nervous tic pulsed beside her mouth, and Cam reached for her then, kissing it away softly as he pulled her into his arms. He inhaled the fresh scent in her hair and felt his whole body tighten with desire.
“Bluebell, if you have to wonder whether or not you’ve had an orgasm, then there’s no way in hell you have. But that’s okay, darlin’.” He cupped her butt and drew her closer yet. “You’ll know exactly how amazing it feels when I make you come.” He felt her shudder. “And I will do whatever it takes to make that happen for you. But you’re in the driver’s seat. We go at your pace, and if you want to stop, just tell me.”
“I don’t want to stop, but I’m a little nervous.” She exhaled a shaky breath and looked away. “So stupid, I know.”
“No,” Cam said gently. “You’re not stupid.” He bent forward and pressed a light kiss to that spot below her ear—the one he adored. “You’re beautiful and open and honest.” She shivered against him, and he smiled. “You like that?”
The Thing About Trouble Page 13