"I can't help it, that's about the cutest story I've ever heard," Mac said, his voice shaking as he struggled not to laugh.
"Well I didn't think screaming my head off or peeing my pants was cute at all," she said, lifting her chin and turning her face away. Unfortunately, when she turned, she ended up face-to-face with a gorilla who'd come to stare out the glass viewing area in front of the gorilla habitat. Jerking back, she stumbled and fell against Mac's chest with a slight cry.
"Are you sure you don't want to go? We can do something else," Mac said, taking advantage of the moment to slip his arms around her waist.
"I'm good. I actually like those," she said, gesturing to the giant primate and stepping closer to the glass. She placed her hands flat, leaning closer to get a better look, and the gorilla tilted his head, his big black eyes watching her intelligently. Scooting closer to the wall, he lifted what looked like a twisted piece of wood and held it over his head, scraping it through the thick hair of his back.
Mac watched as Cameron smiled through the glass, child-like pleasure on her face. Another gorilla was approaching the one she was looking at, and she hadn't noticed yet, but she jerked in surprise as the second gorilla came close to the first, appearing suddenly from behind the edge of the enclosure.
"Ha! Did you see that?" Cameron laughed, watching as the first gorilla took offense at the other's nearness and threw the stick at him. They bickered, and the first gorilla stomped off into the distance.
"Cranky, aren't they?" Mac asked, resting his fingertips along the smooth cotton covering her lower back.
"Seems so. I've only ever seen them on TV," she answered, turning to face him with wide eyes. "I can't believe I spent so much time too afraid to do this!"
"Is that so?" Mac asked, his breath quickening as he stepped closer to her, caging her in to protect her from a sudden influx of crowding children.
"It is." Cameron raised her eyes, suddenly realizing the position she was in, her back pressed to the wall, Mac's hands on either side of her as he braced himself against the flow of screaming school children behind them. She closed her eyes briefly, counting to ten in her head in an effort to fight off the panic his nearness brought to the surface.
"It's okay, now," he whispered, taking her hand and pulling her away from the wall, clearing her space. Taking a breath, she watched him, wondering how he always seemed to know when to move in or when to move away.
"Thank you," she whispered, and he nodded as they walked on.
***
Cameron lifted a strand of amethyst beads, holding them up and running them through her fingers. The rounded beads were smoothly formed, elegant and weighty in her hands, with golden swirls circling the outsides.
"How about these?" she asked, turning to offer them to her mother.
"Oh wow, Cameron, look how they go with these ones!" Eva exclaimed. In her hands, she clutched three strands of small sapphire colored beads, each one embedded with randomly shaped bits of emerald. She brushed the short strands of her pale hair away from her face, reaching out to hold the amethyst beads together with the sapphires.
"Those are gorgeous like that," Cameron agreed. "Do you think they will work for Cass's bridal set?"
"Absolutely. I can't wait to get home and play with these! I was so excited when she asked me to make her wedding jewelry," Eva laughed.
"How long do you think it will take you to make all the stuff for the wedding?" Cameron asked, absently offering her mother a strand of tiny golden beads to accent the gold on the amethysts.
"Oh, about as long as it takes you to tell me anything about Mac, I suppose," Eva muttered, watching her daughter closely. She placed a hand on Cameron's arm. "I talked to Drew, and he says to let it be, but Cameron, I'm your mother. I have a right to worry."
"I know, I know," Cameron sighed. "So I'm just going to have to sit you down for a talk, I guess. I don't know if you'll like what I'm going to tell you, though. Mac isn't exactly, um, unattached."
"Excuse me?!" Eva asked, her voice screeching up at the end of the question, her eyes widening in surprise. "Cameron Kingsley, if you come between a man and his wife – I will. Skin. You."
Her eyebrows shot skyward when Cameron burst out laughing, the beads clicking together in her hand and she gripped her stomach, bending at the waist and bracing her other hand on a table. "What on earth are you laughing at?" she hissed.
"He's not that kind of attached, mom," Cameron giggled. "Go on and pay for your stuff, and I'll get you a cupcake next door." Handing the beads to her mother and stepping back to wait, Cameron couldn't help laughing again. As if she could possibly bring herself to have any sort of illicit affair! After her past, Cameron was too much of a prude to behave in any way other than what might be deemed appropriate for a southern belle.
Heck, it had been almost ten years, and she was still trying to convince herself that the act of wearing fitted clothing was not the same as asking for an attack.
"Relax, relax," Cameron muttered to herself, turning her mind back to her mother as the events from the past struggled to float to the surface. Now was not the time to get lost in the past and end up in a panic attack.
"Almost done," Eva said, looking over her shoulder at Cameron as the cashier stuffed the beads and other materials into a paper gift bag bearing the store's emblem. Turning, she looped her arm through Cameron's and they walked together from the store, turning left and walking into the cupcake shop next door.
"What kind do you want today?" Cameron asked, laughing. Eva laughed too; they both knew she would choose the same cupcake she always chose, the peanut butter cupcake with strawberry jam filling and peanut butter crème icing.
"Oh you know," Eva winked. "Surprise me."
"Mmhmm, I'm sure that would go over well," Cameron laughed. She waited until her mother had settled into one of the cushioned seats, propping her bead bag against the pedestal of the narrow table they would share. "Maybe I'll see if they have a sample platter for people who never branch out."
Darting out of reach as Eva swatted her arm, Cameron laughed again and turned to approach the cupcake sign floating over the cash register. She ordered her mother's cupcake, and then chose a simple red velvet cupcake with cream cheese icing for herself.
"Now or never," she whispered, walking slowly toward her mother, a tray balanced on one hand with the giant cupcakes shivering on top. Stopping to pull a stack of napkins from the display, she slipped the tray from her hand to the table and settled in across from her mom.
"Okay, so tell me what's going on," Eva said, reaching for her cupcake and carefully peeling away the paper. She ran her fingertip through the peanut butter crème on top of the cupcake and put it to her mouth, winking at Cameron.
"Well, you know that he's a therapist. He does a lot of work with people suffering suicidal depression, people who need temporary help due to life circumstances --"
"Like Drew," Eva murmured quietly.
"Exactly. But he really does most of his work with terminal patients, helping them to deal with their fears of death, helping their families to adjust to saying goodbye. That sort of thing." Cameron peeled the paper away from her own cupcake as she spoke, spearing it with a fork and lifting a bite away.
"Well that's certainly admirable. It must be hard on him emotionally though, surrounded by grief and all that. Is it?" Having eaten all the icing from her cupcake, Eva lifted the now-naked treat in her fingers, neatly biting a chunk from the rounded top.
"Well, I think it must be, but he does it because he has some experience with it. He had a wife of his own, but she died years ago. And her death left him to raise their son alone." Cameron waited nervously, watching her mother's face, wondering how she would react.
"I see," Eva said. "Go on." She kept her face carefully blank, waiting to see if Cameron would tell her more.
"Mac and Alex were sweethearts; they married right out of high school," Cameron said, watching compassion dawn in Eva's eyes. "They worked together
, putting him through school so that she could eventually quit her job. They wanted Alex to be home with the children they'd planned to eventually have, like Mac's mom was home with him. After she'd been home a year or so, they had their son, Logan. But then Alex got sick, and Mac said it didn't take long before she was gone."
"And their son? How old is the boy now?" Eva asked, genuine curiosity showing on her face. Eva had always had a soft spot for children.
"Logan is nine now, I think," Cameron said, flicking a brilliant red cake crumb from her thigh.
"And how do you feel about dating a man with that much history?"
"You know, I don't know, really. That's why I hadn't said much. I feel a connection with Mac, and it's solid, at least so far. We talk and laugh; we kid around, but we've covered some serious stuff, like when he talks to me about Logan, or his wife," Cameron said.
She took another small bite from her cupcake, chewing and swallowing before she went on. "I just don't know, mom. I haven't told him anything about what happened to me in college. I just - what if he freaks out or something? I mean, right now, he looks at me, and he sees a regular girl. Maybe cynical, and maybe not so trusting, but he mostly just thinks I'm shy, I think. But he doesn't look at me and see my past, you know? I just don't know how to tell him all that, but I don't want to wait too long either."
"Cameron. He's a therapist, remember?" Eva's eyes twinkled, but she kept her amusement from showing on her face. "His life revolves around traumatized people trying to get over something. Give him a chance."
"I'm going to," Cameron answered. "He's out of town right now for a family reunion, but he'll be back next week. We're scheduled to go out Friday after he gets back."
Eva's hand froze, midway to her mouth with a napkin clutched in her fingers. "Cameron, you --"
"I know, mom. I did it on purpose," Cameron answered, abandoning the crumbled remains of her cupcake and steeling herself for the conversation she knew was coming, the memories that would be resurrected.
"You set a date with a man for the ten-year anniversary?" Eva asked, her fingers twisting the paper napkin to bits in her lap. "Cameron, are you sure about that?"
"I can't hide forever, mom. Isn't that what you always tell me?"
"Well yes, I suppose. Are you ready for that step though? I mean, I know that's always been a very private and very hard day for you since it happened, and --"
"I'm okay, mom. I'll be okay." But even as the words left her mouth, the bitter panic was rising up again. The thought of being alone with a man on the tenth anniversary of that day was a fright unlike many others she'd ever experienced. Fighting it back, Cameron cleared her throat and stood, hating the panic she knew would lace her words when she spoke. "I have to get going, mom. Are you sure you got everything you needed my help with?"
"I did," Eva said, checking her watch as if suddenly remembering something. "You go on, honey, and I'll be fine. I've got a bill to pay while I'm out."
***
"Don't worry, baby," Kevin whispered, brushing his fingers over the soft flesh of her bare shoulder. The halter-top wasn't skimpy, especially compared to what several other girls had worn, but not many girls could rock a halter the way she could, and she knew it.
Smiling slightly, she lowered her chin, looking up at him through heavy lashes. The first few glasses of "fruity murder" had been delicious, slipping over her tongue like a salve for her wounded heart. Jake had dumped her for not putting out, for not being slutty enough, for respecting her body enough to keep it covered. Well she'd show that bastard she wasn't a tight-ass cock-block after all.
She might not let them in her panties, but tonight she was cutting loose. She'd let him know what he was missing, by showing it to his best friend.
"Hey, drink up," Kevin urged, his voice soft, raspy with alcohol, smoke and loud music. He slipped a groping hand around her back, stroking the round tops of her buttocks through the thin material of her dress.
"Watch it," she warned, shooting him a stern look as his fingertips found the low backline of the dress and began to slip beneath the fabric, striving for the bare curve of her rear. His eyes sharpened, his lips tightened, but the fingertips retreated, slipping more carefully around her slender waist.
"Drink up," he said again, and though her instincts were screaming, she brought the glass to her pouting red lips and swallowed once, twice, again. He smiled, nodding his approval as she downed the last sweet drops of alcoholic nectar. "Good girl," he murmured, taking her hand.
Kevin led her through the crowded party, and by the time they reached Jake, Cameron was nearly incapacitated. "Dude, your girl and I are going to the playground," Kevin laughed, tugging her hand and causing her to fall against him. Her breasts smashed painfully flat against his chest, his strong fingers digging into the flesh of her hips as he dragged her more tightly against him.
"Don't forget to play nice," Jake said, a warning in his voice. "I owe you, Kevin, and I pay my dues. But I don't like broken toys."
"No worries man," Kevin laughed, steadying Cameron on her feet again. "I'm a gentle giant, right baby?"
Cameron's eyes were blurring; she blinked to clear her vision but it immediately fogged up again. "You don't look like a giant," she slurred.
"I will later, baby. I'm like the Hulk; I keep the giant part of me hidden."
Cameron jerked awake in her bed, sweating. Slowly, she turned her head left, then right, taking in her surroundings, reacquainting herself with the present. Her clothes were soaked, her sheets a damp mess. Standing, she stripped her shirt off and stood naked, her fingers idly running over the scar tissue on her stomach, just below the fullness of her left breast. She sighed, frustration quickening her breath as she began to strip the sweat-soaked sheets from the bed.
"Well," she muttered, yanking a pillow from its silken turquoise pillowcase and throwing the pillow to the floor. "I guess I have to admit I knew this was coming. But --" she broke off, listening carefully. Was that a car outside? Or could it just be her typical anniversary paranoia? Slipping quickly into a short bathrobe and reaching under the bed for her bat, she crept to the window, peering out toward the front of her house.
"Nothing. Just like last time. Dammit, Cameron," she whispered furiously. Dropping the bat on the bed, she finished stripping the sheets, rolled them into a messy ball and stuffed them under one arm. Taking the bat with her, she fought the urge to turn all the lights on as she tiptoed through her own house with her ears perked for danger.
She used to do that, years ago, turning on lights from outside the doorway, creeping her fingers around the curve of a wall before flicking the switch to assess the room. She'd done it for years until Drew had found out what she was doing; he'd told her that turning lights on was a very effective way of giving someone outside a progress report of where you were located inside. After that, he'd stayed in her house with her for months, sneaking up on her and helping her practice self-defense techniques. She'd drawn the line at buying a gun, stating firmly that she had as much chance of being killed with one as a burglar did.
In the laundry room, Cameron worked by the glow of a night light plugged into the wall that turned on by itself in the absence of other light. She lifted the washer lid silently, her body tense, her ears still assessing every sound the house made, listening to every creak and pop, every car driving down the street outside. Stuffing the sweaty sheets into the washer, she reminded herself to turn it on in the morning as she got ready for work.
There’s no way I’m turning it on now, she thought. It would mask the sounds of someone coming in.
She turned, careful not to hit anything with the bat or make any other noises, and carried it with her back to her room. Despising the tripping of her heart, she turned the light on and searched the closet for a clean set of sheets to put on the bed. Still, the sense of someone watching wouldn't drop away, and even after the bed was once again soft and inviting, sleep eluded her.
Sitting in the middle of the bed, newly
dressed in a black tank top and purple yoga pants, she finally gave in to the panic. She took a Xanax and shame filled her as she lifted her cell phone from the bedside drawer.
"Michael? I hate myself for this, but I can't sleep," she whispered when he answered. "It's been almost ten years and I still can't sleep. But I can't call Drew; he has Cass now. Can you come sit with me?" A tear slipped down her cheek as her brother immediately agreed to come and watch over her, to protect her from the monsters in her memories, and she curled herself around the bat, frozen in the middle of her bed.
She didn't need to move; all her brothers knew how to get in.
Chapter Three
"Well I have to say, as heinous as that twit is, she sure makes a gorgeous bride," Tabitha said, standing next to Cameron as they watched Christina Dawn and her newest husband disappear into the stretched Cadillac Escalade that would carry them off to their romantic honeymoon.
Prescription For Love (The Kingsley Series) Page 9