He shrugged. “So it’s officially over. The tabloids are still working their smear campaign,” he said. “But my agent says that’s just because I never give them anything else to write about.”
“And because you’re so hot.”
He smirked and gave me a level gaze.
“And they have my photo to prove it.”
“I guess they’re still using the photo,” he said. “But I have an idea about that.”
“You do?”
He nodded. “I’m going to help you sue Jack for copyright violation. That was your photo. He stole it.”
Hadn’t I threatened Jack with that? I smiled, imagining Jack’s face when he realized that I’d been serious. “That’s a good idea.”
“Or at least I’m going to threaten to sue him, and also let him know that I plan to let the magazine know that he sold them a photo he didn’t own.”
“Why just threaten?” I was shaking my head, confused.
“I don’t really want anything from him,” he said, pointing the chocolate covered spoon at me. “But you do. And if he thinks he might be able to stop the suit going forward by meeting your demands, then everyone wins.”
“Except Jack,” I said, perhaps too gleefully.
“Jack wins by not getting sued. And by realizing he can’t just push everyone around.”
“That’s a really good idea, though I doubt Jack will ever realize that.”
“I’ll call my lawyer first thing tomorrow and get it going,” he said. “But in the meantime, I thought we should celebrate the fact that I’m not a sexual predator after all.”
I grinned. “I’m so glad,” I said, throwing my purse onto the bed behind us and sliding into the bench next to the table. “I hope you know I didn’t really have any doubts about you.”
“I hope not.” His voice was serious now. He turned to face me, holding the wooden spoon in the air. “We’ve had enough challenges,” he said. “Maybe now we can focus on finding out what’s here between us, beyond allegations and distant memories.”
“It’s hard to take you seriously when you’re wearing a lime green apron and holding a spoon, Betty Crocker.” I grinned.
“Oh is it?” A sexy smile spread across his face. “Well, I don’t want my ganache to burn, but when it’s done, I’m going to show you how serious I am.”
I laughed, and my body tingled in anticipation. “Promise?”
“Better believe it,” he said, winking.
I leaned back in my seat and let my head rest on the wall behind me. I was still stuck in a trailer, but now it felt more like a safe and happy cave than a cage. And I had company. Company that knew how to make chocolate cake.
Connor slid a glass of wine in front of me and leaned down to kiss my cheek.
Life was definitely improving.
* * *
The next few days were blissful. We spent time alternately in the trailer or at Connor’s house, eating, drinking, and tumbling around under warm blankets as the weather outside turned noticeably cooler.
I practiced switching lenses quickly and taking a variety of shots at various ranges to get ready for the wedding.
“You do that fast,” Connor said, watching me put the telephoto lens onto the camera.
“It still takes too long,” I said. “I waste time getting the other one put away. I don’t want to drop it into the bag, it’ll get scratched.”
“You need an assistant.”
“I had one of those once.” That had been nice. But I could hardly afford to pay anyone to help me now.
“Maybe a lazy writer with nothing else filling up his days?”
I stared at him. He was lounging on the couch with a cup of coffee in his hand, flannel pajama bottoms pulled dangerously low around his hips and a tiny trail of auburn hair snaking down his stomach into the waistband. His hair glowed in the constant firelight. He grinned.
“Seriously? It’s not glamorous.”
“Oh well, in that case,” he said, mock-flipping his imaginary long hair. He leveled his gaze at me. “I don’t care. I want to help. Glamor isn’t really my thing anyway.”
“Would you really help?” It would be so much easier to hand him the lenses and have him put them away and get the next one ready. Then I wouldn’t miss an important shot.
“I really would. I’d love to, actually.”
I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Seriously.” He sat up and put his cup on the table. “You told me you like watching me write.”
“I do.” I’d told him that a few days ago when he’d pulled the laptop into bed late at night. A veil drops over him while he writes, and his fingers fly. It’s like watching someone completely transported by their own focus, their own mind. It was fascinating, and it was also really sexy to see him so committed to his work.
“Well, it’s no different for me. When you have that camera in your hands, I think you see the world differently. You shift into photographer-mode, and it’s sexy as hell.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Jack had hated my camera.
“You look completely happy when you’re taking pictures, Mad.”
I stared at the camera in my hands for a minute. It felt like part of me, an extension of my fingers. He was right. “Because I am,” I agreed.
“And I’d like to help.”
“Thanks,” I said, putting the camera down and walking over to kiss his cheek. “I appreciate it.”
“Of course, you’ll have to pay me back.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me and holding me there immobile so I was staring up into his face.
“What kind of payment did you have in mind?”
“Oh, we’ll think of something,” he said, his voice low and ominous. Then a serious look crossed his face. “Actually, I know.”
He released me and I sat up. “What?”
“Let me help with the house.”
I shook my head. “That’s my problem.”
“And I love you. It’s our problem.”
He had dropped those three words so naturally, I almost didn’t hear them—or wasn’t sure I’d heard them right. My heart accelerated in my chest and warmth flooded me. I couldn’t help the slow smile that spread across my face.
“Is that a yes?” he asked, the blue eyes shining in the firelight.
“You love me?’
He grinned. “Did I say that?”
I nodded and he pulled me to him, laying me across his lap again while he cradled me in his arms. “Then I guess it must be true. I do. I love you, Maddie Turner. Is that okay?”
I couldn’t help giggling. I nodded again. As his eyes shone, I did a quick inventory of my own feelings, and wasn’t surprised to find an abundance of warmth and concern for Connor overflowing within me. I tried to imagine life without him at this point, and the thought left me empty and cold. I loved him, too. I hadn’t thought to say it yet. “I love you, too,” I said. “But the house is my problem.”
He smiled and then shook his head at me. “All right, stubborn girl,” he said. “But the offer stands.”
Chapter 20
The wedding went off without a hitch, and Connor was a great assistant, handing me exactly what I needed at the right time and even managing to take some photos with the spare rig when the reception was in full swing.
I was still on a high from my success when my phone rang the following morning. It was Cam. And the news was not good.
“Jess is in the hospital,” he said. His voice broke as he added, “I think this is it.”
Connor and I were in the car not long after.
“I need to get a few things from the trailer. And we need to stop at the post office.” I hoped that the photos I’d had printed of Cam and Jess might have arrived.
Connor nodded and we drove up the hill. I packed a quick bag, and then we stopped through town. Connor waited in the car while I dashed in to retrieve my package, managing a glare for Craig Pritchard as he handed me the slim
envelope as if it was a tedious chore for him.
Then we were on our way down the hill. Down to reality. To Cam and Jess.
It took most of the night to reach the hospital in Los Angeles. When we got there, I sprang from the car, leaving Connor to lock up and follow me across the lot. We asked for directions at the front desk, and then we were in an elevator, Connor always just a step behind.
In the quiet confinement of the elevator, he pulled me in to him. I tried to look away, but he captured my jaw in one hand and stared down into my eyes. “I know this is hard. I just want you to know that I’m here for you. And for Cam.”
I nodded, willing myself not to cry. Cam needed me to be strong. When the elevator doors opened, I practically bolted to the room at the end of the hall. I slowed myself down outside the door and opened it gently.
Cam sat next to the bed where Jess laid, eyes closed and a ghostly pall on her skin. He rose when he saw me, and his eyes filled. “Maddie,” he said, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.
I reached for him and he stepped into my arms, hugging me too hard, too tight. I could feel him shaking as his fingers bit into my shoulders, and I willed myself not to move, not to let go until he was ready. Cam didn’t have anyone else. No one besides Jess and me. When he let me go, I had to catch my breath, but he looked steadier somehow.
“How is she?” I asked.
Connor had stayed outside, and I missed his strength suddenly and wished I had pulled him into the room with me.
Cam shook his head and I watched as he pulled himself taller, swallowing hard. “They’re saying a few hours.” His voice broke and he cleared his throat, rubbing a hand over the goatee on his chin.
Shock iced my blood and my skin felt clammy in the cool room. I moved to where Jess lay, not moving, not seeing. She looked so tiny in the big hospital bed, her blond hair fanned around her on the pillow. She had a teddy bear with her, and the comforter over her was not hospital-issue. It was a very chic gray and white chevron pattern with yellow flowers. Cam had brought things to make her comfortable. The idea of him doing this, going through their house finding things to make Jess more comfortable in her last hours, it nearly sent me to the floor.
I tucked the blanket up around Jess’s chin. If I was cold in this room, she must be freezing. “Hey, Jess,” I said.
I had no idea what to say to her, and as I reached for her small hand, a flashback hit me hard. This hospital. My mom. Feeling like a stranger as she took her last breaths and my family stood behind me, angry and hurt. Jack had kept me away as my mom had gotten sick. I’d talked to her on the phone now and then, until the phone calls stopped. And then another call had come, and I’d rushed up here, to this hospital. I’d said goodbye to her as my brother seethed behind me, angry at my absence during the final months of her life. And I’d had to miss the funeral because Jack had arranged for us to stay with friends at a villa in Europe and it couldn’t be rescheduled. I had been drinking wine and crying silently on the balcony of an Italian villa as my mother was buried. I’d stayed painfully drunk most of the trip, knowing that I was doing everything wrong, feeling like I had no control over my life.
Jack had influenced me, certainly, but as I stood holding Jess’s hand, I knew that the choices I had made—the mistakes I had made—they’d been my own. I needed to accept that. I’d taken my mother for granted during the years I lived at home. I’d always been in a hurry to grow up, to be independent, to move away. And I’d never thought about how I might need her—or want her, or my dad—once I was an adult.
But I felt like I’d give almost anything now to have one of them here with us, telling us what to do in this situation, showing us how to get through it. My parents had been my comforting strength for so long, and they’d done their jobs well, preparing me to enter the world of adults on my own and never look back. But I wished that I had. I wished I’d looked back to thank my mom for always standing by me, for being there to pick me up when I fell, for pushing me forward and making me strong enough to walk away from her. Strong enough to stay away, even when she needed me.
Tears ran down my face as I thought about my mistakes, and I squeezed Jess’s hand before turning back to Cam. “What can I do?”
His eyes scanned my face, and he looked almost suspicious. “You don’t have to stay,” he said.
He was giving me an out. He must have been remembering the same thing I’d been thinking about. How could he not? The same hospital, the same painful silence hanging over a frail figure in a hospital bed. I wiped my eyes and straightened up. I would be strong this time. “I’m not going anywhere,” I told him. “What do you need? Have you eaten?”
His face relaxed and he sank into the chair beside the bed again. He shook his head. “Maybe something to eat,” he agreed.
“I’ll be right back,” I told him, turning on my heel and feeling grateful for something to do.
Connor was waiting on a bench outside the room when I pushed my way out the door. It felt like two separate worlds—the quiet misery of Cam’s tortured vigil inside the room, and the bustling activity of the nurse’s station outside. Connor took my hand and rose to his feet, pulling me into a hug.
“I’m glad you’re here,” a nurse said, stepping in front of us. She wore Hello Kitty scrubs and had a petite build, but her voice could’ve come from a lumberjack’s mouth. “That one in there, Cameron, is it?”
I nodded.
“He needs to eat something. And get some sleep. He’s been here two solid days and I’m not sure he’s moved the whole time. We don’t need another patient.” Her small brown eyes were trained on me. “You family?”
I nodded again. “I’m his sister. This is my boyfriend.”
“All right. Well, my job is to take care of the patient. Your job is to take care of your brother. We got a deal?”
The head nod was becoming my signature move.
“How is Jess doing?” Connor asked her.
The nurse looked at us each in turn for a second, and then cocked her head to the side slightly. “It’s just a wait at this point. There isn’t much else we can do. We suggested hospice care a month ago when she was here, but your brother wouldn’t hear of it. She’s such a sweet girl. Fought longer than we expected her to.” She reached out and squeezed my hand, then bustled off around the corner.
I took a deep breath and gathered my shattered emotions together. “I need to get something for Cam to eat,” I told Connor.
It was his turn to nod as he took my hand and we found the cafeteria together.
When we returned to the room with a tray of various snacks, Connor came inside with me. He and Cam shook hands, and I noted that a couple more chairs had appeared in the corner. We pulled them next to Cam and sat down. As soon as I was sitting, I found a reason to get back up.
“I have something for you,” I told Cam. “In the car. I’ll be right back.” I took the keys from Connor, ignoring the question in his eyes, and made my way back outside. I returned with the package from the post office, still in its mailing wrap, and handed it to Cam.
“What is this?” he asked, making no move to open it. He looked defeated, exhausted, and on the verge of collapse.
I took the package back and unwrapped it for him, pulling a hard-covered photo book from the envelope. “It’s the pictures I took when you and Jess visited a couple weeks ago. I edited them and had them made into an album.” I handed the book back to Cam, whose eyes had become marginally brighter.
He stared at the cover for a minute, where I’d put a large photo of him and Jess walking hand in hand beneath a canopy of young trees with the trunks of colossal Sequoias on either side of them. After a moment, he lifted his eyes to mine. He didn’t say anything, but in that moment, I was grateful that I’d had an opportunity to do something for him in the face of an impossible situation.
Cam turned slowly through the pages, where I’d put pictures of him and Jess, smiling, kissing, holding hands. He got to the end of the book a
nd closed it on his lap, tears running down his face. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
We sat together, none of us talking. I knew that suggesting Cam go try to get some sleep would be pointless, so I was happy when he nodded off in his chair, slumped to one side.
Connor scooted his chair closer to mine and put his arm around me as I leaned into him.
Just as my own eyes were closing, something in the room changed.
“Cam?” Jess was awake.
Cameron bolted to her side, pulling her hand to his heart. “Jess!”
She smiled at him, the slow widening of her chapped lips revealing the effort that simple movement took. “Hi baby.”
“Hi honey. Maddie and Connor came to see you.” Tears were streaming down his face, as he turned so she could see us past his shoulder.
“Hi guys,” Jess said, looking beyond Cam for a moment. “Wow, you really are Connor Charles,” she said, her voice no more than a breath.
Connor smiled and nodded. “I really am.”
“I’m so glad I got to meet you,” she said. The words she left unsaid settled around us all.
I stood next to my brother and leaned down to give Jess an awkward hug.
“Maddie,” she said. “Thank you for coming.”
“Of course,” I said.
Cameron offered her some water, and she sipped it from a straw, her head lifted by his strong hands.
“Can I talk to your sister for a minute?” Jess asked Cam.
He looked stricken that she would ask him to leave, and his eyes were almost panicked as he turned to look at me. “Sure,” he whispered. He and Connor left the room, and I took Jess’s hand, stepping in close.
“What’s up?” I said.
She smiled at me and took a shaky breath. “I need to know that you’ll be around.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, as something made her small frame shake in the bed. I knew that some kind of pain was working through her.
“Should I get the nurse?”
Her face relaxed and she looked at me again, shaking her head slightly. “Please tell me that you’ll take care of him. I don’t want him to be all alone.”
Love Rebuilt Page 21