Camden

by Xio Axelrod

  There were a few ways Camden thought to answer that question. He shrugged.

  "I was already all-in before you showed up at my bar."

  She blinked.

  He shouldn't have said that out loud.

  They locked gazes, and the earth shifted beneath his feet. Cam realized, with perfect clarity, that there was precious little he wouldn't do for this woman, and he had no clue why. Why her? Why now?

  Rory cleared his throat and stood. "I should, uh, get going."

  Over Yara's head, he mouthed the words you like her.

  Cam ignored him.

  "You, uh, you don't have to run. We can order some food." The thought of being alone with Yara Bujold seemed like a terrible one.

  He was attracted to her, probably had been before they'd even met. And Rory was right. They did click, somehow. It may have felt right, but it was all wrong. And likely one-sided.

  Yara turned those mesmerizing, dark amethyst eyes up to him.

  "Are you afraid to be alone with me?"

  Yes. You scare the shite out of me, woman.

  Thankfully, he kept his internal monolog internal that time. Despite that, Rory chuckled as he made his way to the door. Dick.

  "Clickity click," he said as Cam shut it behind him.

  He locked up and leaned there for a moment, needing to take a moment and get his mind right.

  "I won't bite." He turned to find her standing behind him. Yara's tone was teasing, but Cam caught the current running underneath.

  She searched his face. Her brows, delicate, Sumi brush strokes across her forehead, arched closer together.

  "What do we do now?"

  "Tomorrow, Pierce, Rory and I will put together a plan. We'll take statements from some of Kaine's former artists."

  "And tonight?"

  "Food? Maybe a little TV to take your mind off of things?"

  She smiled. That warm, genuine smile he'd seen in countless photographs.

  "Sounds perfect."

  Cam ordered a pizza from his favorite place, glad that Yara had a healthy appetite for salted meats. She'd put away three slices before he finished his first beer.

  "How can you eat so much and still look like that?"

  "Like what?" Yara swiped the back of her hand across her lips and grinned.

  Cam loved that she felt comfortable enough to let her hair down, though it was literally still in that damn bun thing. He had the sudden urge to release it, to watch it cascade down her shoulders and back. Instead, he cracked open another beer.

  "You're a wee slip of a thing, lass. But I bet you could finish this whole pie if you wanted."

  Her smile lit up her entire face. “Hell yeah, I could."

  Cam laughed, long and loud, and Yara giggled across from him where they sat on the floor, the coffee table between them.

  "You're nothing like I thought you'd be," she said after a beat, lowering her eyes.

  You're everything I thought you'd be and more, he wanted to reply. Almost did.

  As if she’d heard him, she looked up from under her lashes.

  Christ almighty, the woman was breathtaking.

  She smiled again. Just a quirk of her lips at the corner.

  It was enough.

  Nine

  Yara awoke with a start.

  For a moment, her surroundings didn't register. The bed was unfamiliar and smelled like someone else. Not unpleasant. Quite pleasant, actually. Spicy and manly and...oh. Camden Skinner.

  This was his bed. His bed that he'd let her take while he stayed on the couch because she'd had nowhere else to go. Because Marcus Kaine might want her her permanently dead, and Cam had sworn to protect her. Yara still didn't understand why.

  She'd never expected Camden Skinner, co-owner of the Skin Agency and co-ruiner of her life, to have any sense of responsibility for what happened, especially after learning that he'd been duped into taking on Marcus as a client.

  But Yara had learned two things about the man in the days since they'd met.

  Cam didn't like to be played. Kaine was in his crosshairs, and she was sure he’d take him down.

  Cam was also an honorable man who had done a dishonorable thing, and it had weighed heavily on him. For those reasons alone, he might be the only other person in the world she trusted, outside her family. And Siv. Rory and Pierce might soon be on that list.

  Speaking of which.

  Yara grabbed her phone off the nightstand. Seven in the morning, Siv should have been awake. She dialed.

  "Yara, thank God. Are you alright? You said you were going to call me last night. I got so worried when you didn't."

  "I'm all right, calm down."

  "Easy for you to say. It isn't your best friend on the run and pretending to be dead."

  Yara winced. "I'm sorry, you're right. I should have called. I just got...distracted."

  "By what?"

  Yara said nothing.

  "Or should I say by whom? Are you still working with that Skin guy?"

  "Cam, yes."

  "Oh, Cam, is it?" Siv's tone turned inquisitive. "What's the deal with Cam? Are you hooking up with him?"

  "What? No! He's just letting me sleep at his place until we get all of this sorted out. Turns out Marcus might not be a psychopath, just a fucking horrible person. The accident may have been just an accident, but he's milking it for all he can get. With me out of the way, that's a lot."

  There was a pause. "Wait, you're sleeping with Cam?"

  "That's your takeaway from what I just said?"

  "Oh, honey. I'm glad no one's out to kill you. Does this mean you can come out of the grave now?"

  "Not yet, we're using my disappearance to buy time to get more evidence against him. The more we have, the better my chances of getting out from under him. Or, you know, I could stay dead until my contract runs out."

  "Right," Siv said. "Get back to the part about you sleeping with the hot bar owner-slash-PR nightmare."

  Yara rolled her eyes. "I'm not sleeping with him. He's on the couch."

  "What happened to the bed and breakfast?"

  "They, uh, had people booked for the week." Yara didn't want to worry her more than she already was.

  "And you're in his bed?" Siv's voice lowered to a secretive whisper.

  "He insisted."

  "I bet he did." Sarcasm dripped from every word.

  "Will you stop?" Yara had forgotten how single-minded Siv could be. "I told you it isn't like that. He's...he's a good guy. One of the nice ones."

  "This is the same guy that Marcus hired, right? The man who works for Skin?"

  "Owns Skin, actually. And he doesn't work there anymore. He left."

  "Why?"

  "I asked, but he didn't really answer. And I don't want to pry."

  "Don't you think you should?"

  Siv had a point. Yara had found a level of comfort with Cam, the kind that could only be crafted after time together. A lot of time. Definitely more than a few days. And yet, she did feel comfortable around him. She trusted him, almost implicitly. It made no sense. None at all.

  Sure, he was hot - stereotypically tall, dark, and handsome - but that had never been enough for her. Yara had always gravitated toward the type of men that put others before themselves. Everything she'd read about Skin and the Skinner brothers had told her Cam and Pierce were anything but altruistic.

  Then she met Cam. Looked him in the eye and found remorse there. Compassion. Loyalty, even. Nothing that she'd expected. And she liked him. A lot.

  Under different circumstances, she might have even wanted to get to know him. Biblically.

  "Earth to Yara."

  "Oh, sorry. I'm still a bit groggy." Only a tiny lie.

  "I think it's time you had a heart-to-heart with your benefactor," Siv said.

  "Today we're putting together a strategy to bring Kaine down."

  "I like the sound of that."

  Yara sighed. "How did I end up like this, Sivvy?"

  "Babe, listen," Siv b
egan. "Don't start beating yourself up about chasing after your dream. You're fucking talented, Yar. Gifted, even. Marcus may be a dick, but he does know that. Why do you think you've been his prized pony for all these years?"

  "There was nothing wrong with coffee shop gigs and open mics," Yara countered, remembering the simplicity of that life.

  "There's nothing wrong with wanting to stand in a spotlight for a while either, nothing wrong with wanting to share what you have with the world. You just picked the smoke-and-mirrors guy. Everyone does every now and then."

  There was a rap on the door.

  "Yara, you ready?"

  "I gotta go." She got to her feet and grabbed her hat.

  "Okay, sweetie. Stay strong, yeah?"

  "I don't really have a choice. Do I?"

  ***

  By the time they got to Skin, Yara was amped up. Cam had been uncharacteristically quiet on the walk over, and Yara tried not to read into that. They'd shared a lovely evening together, and now he treated her as if she were just another client.

  He opened the door and marched past her once they were inside. She followed, removing her dark glasses and hat as they walked into a large conference room.

  It looked like a war council.

  One long wall was covered in pinned documents, photos, and scribbled notes, and the enormous conference table held what looked like dozens of piles of papers.

  Pierce was there, and Rory, along with three other people she might have seen in the office the first day she'd come in. Was that only three days ago?

  She stood in the doorway watching as Cam dove into the flurry of activity. Phones rang, paper flew. It was chaos. It was also eerily quiet, save for the muted chirp of the phones. Yara found a seat in the corner and stayed out of the way.

  "Get you anything?" A svelte, Asian woman asked as she passed, her sharp eyes assessing Yara.

  "Uh, no. Thanks."

  The woman nodded and left the room.

  Pierce made his way over to her. "My brother take care of you last night?"

  Yara's cheeks heated, but Pierce's expression remained impassive.

  "Pizza, beer, and a good night's sleep."

  "Ah," Pierce smirked. "My brother sure knows how to charm the ladies."

  With that, he left the room and Yara didn't know what to make of that statement. She looked over to where Cam stood by Rory, who was hunched over a PC.

  Brows knit in deep concentration, Yara took the opportunity to study him.

  As if sensing her eyes on him, he looked up. His brows lifted, questioning.

  She shook her head.

  Cam straightened and walked over to her.

  "Talk to you a sec?"

  "Sure."

  She followed him to his office where he closed the door, shutting them off from the hustle and bustle.

  "I need to ask you a question, and I didn't want to do it in front of everyone."

  Yara swallowed down her nerves. There was something about Cam, the way he could focus his intensity on you, that made her stomach flip. It was both a good thing and bad.

  "Shoot."

  He took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. His tongue swept out and over his bottom lip before he drew the flesh into his mouth.

  Yara's throat went dry as she watched.

  "Did you ever file a complaint against Marcus?"

  Her gaze snapped up to his.

  "A harassment complaint?" He clarified.

  Three years ago, Marcus had taken her to a party in L.A. at some big-name producer's house. He'd promised to introduce them, to allow her to work with the guy. He'd picked out her outfit, a barely there silk-and-satin number that she'd hated on sight.

  "What happened?" Cam asked as she explained.

  "We went upstairs to where he said the guy would be, and he was. But he wasn't alone, he was..." She looked away, shuddering.

  A finger under her chin delicately turned her face back to his.

  "Did he..." Cam's jaw clenched, and he took a shaky breath.

  "No," Yara reassured him. "There were people on the bed, an orgy I guess you'd say. I got out of there right away."

  The finger on her chin ghosted down her neck making goosebumps erupt over her entire body.

  Cam's hand fell away, and Yara craved its return. "Good. That's...that's good."

  "Marcus was furious, but I told him, then and there, it would never happen. Not like that." She exhaled. "I think that's when I woke up. Realized what I was to him."

  The Scotsman nodded. "What made you file the complaint?"

  "He didn't want to take no for an answer."

  "And why did you withdraw it?"

  Yara looked away, ashamed. Another fingertip on her chin gently turned her head back. She looked up into Cam's dark, hazel eyes. He searched hers. They were a breath apart. Yara could see his anger, his relief, his uncertainty. It all played out across his beautiful features like a film made for her eyes only.

  She shivered.

  "Cold?"

  "No."

  Cam's gaze darkened with unmistakable heat and Yara's body responded immediately.

  His jaw clenched again, and she thought she heard him curse under his breath when he finally dropped his hand and looked away.

  "Do you think we'll get him?"

  "We'll get him," he replied without hesitation. He looked at her, his jaw set with determination. "You'll have everything you want. I promise."

  She believed him, but... "Who are you?"

  It wasn't the first time that question had slipped out of her mouth. This time, he seemed to think about it.

  "Still just a man trying hard to do the right thing." He stared into her eyes and her pulse sped up erratically.

  "You're not talking about my case."

  "No," he replied bluntly, his dark hazel eyes flashing. "Frankly, Yara, I've been a little obsessed with you these last six weeks. And now you're here, giving me a shot at fixing what I helped to fuck up, and you're...you."

  "Meaning?"

  "Fuck." He ran a hand through his hair. It spiked high over his head in a faux mohawk and Yara reached a hand up to run her fingers over it. It was soft. Silkier than it looked.

  Camden froze.

  She retreated.

  He swore under his breath again as she reached for him again, and caught her wrist in a grip just shy of being too tight. Cam held her hand away from his body and glared at her.

  Yara ignored the unspoken threat. She lifted her other hand to his cheek and flattened her palm against it, sweeping her thumb over the soft stubble he had there.

  He closed his eyes at the contact.

  "Yara," he breathed in a stutter.

  With a bravery she didn’t know she had, Yara went on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his chin. His cheek.

  By the time his lips met hers, she knew she was in more trouble than ever.

  Three things happened in quick succession.

  He let go of her wrist, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he banded his around her waist, pulling her hard against his body as the kiss deepened.

  Cam swept his tongue into her mouth. He tasted of coffee, black and strong.

  Yara whimpered when he fisted the bun at her nape and tilted her head just the way he wanted. All she could do was hold onto the hard body under her hands.

  He groaned as she opened for him, teased his curious tongue with her own.

  Then the door opened, and they jumped apart.

  Yara felt like she'd just let go of a live wire. Her skin prickled and her mouth was suddenly a desert.

  Cam turned away from her when the intruder entered the room.

  Yara turned toward the door, finding Rory there.

  He looked back and forth between them. "Am I interrupting something?"

  "No," Cam replied, suddenly pre-occupied with the papers on his desk.

  Rory looked to Yara for confirmation.

  "No," she said as she left the room, confused as hell.

  After freshen
ing up in the ladies' room, Yara made her way back to the conference room. All three Skinner boys were there, sorting through papers and occasionally checking the monitor. She resumed her perch in the corner.

  "Someone want to fill me in?"

  Pierce stopped and looked up at her, then at Cam who ignored them both.

  Okay, then.

  "We found some of Kaine's old clients. Proteges. Whatever. We're reaching out to see if anyone else has dealt with the same shite you have and is willing to come forward."

  "Should be a few of them out there," she replied. "He's been at this for a long time."

  "When you signed with him, what exactly were the terms?" Rory asked.

  "I didn't know it at the time, but I'd basically signed myself over to him. Marcus demands complete creative control, which isn't unusual for a managing producer. But he takes it a million steps further."

  "He basically runs your life," Pierce supplied.

  Yara nodded. "He owns everything. Your name, your songs, your body, basically. You can't get your hair trimmed without his say so."

  "Okay, but, when you realized what was going on, why didn't you confront him? Seek legal counsel."

  "But I did."

  Cam looked up. "When?"

  "Two years ago."

  His brows rose. "You took him to court? I thought your grievance never got that far."

  "I tried to. You wouldn't know about it, it was a closed hearing, and the judge refused to even entertain my complaints. We were in an out of there in less than fifteen minutes. I'm pretty sure Marcus paid him off. Pretty sure he paid-off my lawyer too since I never heard from him again."

  "Fuck, I'm beginning to hate this douchebag." Pierce nodded at Rory's words.

  "My leash was tightened after that. I was demoted to singing background for the other girls. It was only this Spring that I was scheduled to perform at the Billboard Music Awards, sort of a return to the forefront. He canceled it when he found out I was looking for another lawyer. Shortly after that, the TMZ shit began."

  The brothers exchanged a glance.

  "That's about the time he came to us, right?" Rory looked to the pair for confirmation.

  Pierce rubbed his forehead. "I'm a bloody idiot."

  "Told ya." Cam typed furiously on his laptop, his concentration intense.

  "Mark the date, little brother. You were right on this day."