“You know, Troy. My dad left when I was younger than you. I know how tough the transition can be—”
“Shut up!” Troy’s scowl flared, and he pushed off the carpet, sprinting across the gym and through the bathroom door.
Cam chuckled. “That time it wasn’t your fault.”
“It wasn’t my fault the first time,” she countered. Apparently, kids didn’t get her any more than she got them.
*
Kyra walked the halls of school, making sure no students were wandering around without a pass. She walked by the open gymnasium doors and observed the art auction preparations. Cam was, of course, there helping out. As always—strong and capable.
Her eyes grazed across, stopping on the photographer woman. Her camera strap was wrapped around her wrist and she was snapping pictures of the kids, but also—Cam? Why was she photographing Cam so much? Her eyes narrowed, and a gnawing jealousy ached at the pit of Kyra’s stomach. She’d been waiting patiently by for two years; waiting for Cam to heal. Slowly planting the seed that she would make a great mother, a great wife—or if nothing else, a great lover. And who was this woman? Waltzing in here with her camera and thinking she could just steal the town’s most eligible bachelor? No way. Not on Kyra’s watch.
She stomped all the way back to her cubicle, arriving just as her best friend from high school, Ronnie Tripp, entered. Kyra rushed around the corner, her tight skirt restricting her movement and slapped a palm onto the counter with a huff.
“I was just popping in to see if you wanted to grab some lunch. But, dang, I can come back later.” Ronnie eyed Kyra’s clenched fist.
Kyra released a frustrated grunt, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. “I can’t do lunch. I’m swamped with this auction.”
Ronnie gave a low whistle and took a step back. “Wow. I haven’t seen you this annoyed since sophomore year when Tamara Walters cut you from cheerleading tryouts.”
“It’s this journalist that’s in town. Everyone’s talking about her. Everyone.” Her voice was shrill in her own ears and she didn’t care. She didn’t care that she sounded like a crazy person, obsessed with a high school crush.
“Slow down. What are you talking about?”
“The journalist that has the exclusive story with your brother. Lydia.” Kyra stomped around to her side of the desk, gathering the various faxes that came in while she was gone, straightening their edges. “It’s taken years for Cam to even notice me as anything more than his kid sister’s buddy, and just as I thought I was getting somewhere, bam. She waltzes in and has everyone completely enchanted.”
A passive moment slid along Ronnie’s face as the new information soaked in. “First of all, I’d know if Cam was ready to date again. Trust me, I’d love for him to be… but as of a week ago, it was the farthest thing from his mind. Secondly, if he was ready to date, I assure you he would never want to be with a reporter. Not even if she was the last woman on Earth.”
Relief washed over her nearly as quickly as her panic attack had come on. Ronnie was right. She knew Cam almost better than anyone. “I was thinking about asking him to the Founder’s Dinner on Friday night,” she added quietly.
Ronnie draped an arm around Kyra and dropped her cheek to her friend’s shoulder. “You know I think you’re one of the best. Cam would be lucky to have you and an idiot to say no.” There was a tense pause as Ronnie added, “But, he may not be ready. Or interested. And I cannot lose you as my best friend. Will you promise me that if you ask him, no matter what happens, you and I will be okay?”
Kyra hugged her back, warmth squeezing in her belly. “I promise.” At least she hoped she could.
“Now…” Ronnie nudged her with an elbow and pushed off the counter. “What about coming to kickboxing later? If he says no, we can work out some aggression. If he says yes, we can make sure your tush is nice and tight for the date.” Ronnie winked and with a little wave backed out the door.
“I’ll see you there.” Now all Kyra needed was to gain the courage to ask him.
‡
Chapter Eleven
Cam bent to pick up the next piece of art. It was draped with dark-blue velvet that he recognized from home—spare fabric from a duster Hannah made for their bed years ago. He pinched the soft cloth between two fingers and ran it down the length.
“No!” Maddie yelled from the other end of the gym. Her voice reverberated through the chamber, echoing like a stadium on game day.
Cam dropped the fabric as Maddie charged him and he knelt to catch her. “What’s up, Mouse?”
“That… one’s… mine…” she said, huffing between words, catching her breath.
“Okay,” he said, unsure to what that had to do with anything. He glanced at Lydia and she shrugged.
“It’s a surprise. I don’t want you to see it until the auction. It’s—it’s… it’s not done yet.” She looked around, nervous, almost embarrassed. “But it will be.”
“Okay, okay,” he said. It was amazing how the most trivial things were like the end of the world to a fifth grader. It made no difference to him if he hung it or if someone else did. Nor did he care if the piece was finished or not. He would love it even if she had just spit on a canvas and called it art. “I understand. And I’m sure it will be finished and brilliant by Saturday.”
She smiled and threw her arms around his neck, pecking him on the cheek. He squeezed her back, heart melting. How many more of these hugs did they have left before teenage embarrassment settled in? Before she stopped thinking of him as the hero in her life? He couldn’t bear the thought of her growing up. He stood, swinging her around in the bear hug.
Her hair blew out behind her, lifting off her back and catching the breeze like a parachute. She laughed and squirmed in his arms. “Okay, okay, Dad. Put me down.” He did as she asked, his stomach twisting as he let her go.
From over Maddie’s shoulder, he locked eyes with Lydia.
Could it be possible that he may be ready to take that next step? To go on a date with this woman? His family had been great about not pushing too hard. If anything, his siblings gave their mother the hardest time. Cam was probably the only one who knew of the handful of dates she had been on since their dad’s death. Likely because he was the oldest and typically the sibling she left in charge of the others.
But asking Lydia on a date—the sort of date that included candles and flowers and fancy meals where there was more than one fork—could spell disaster. She was everything he shouldn’t want and didn’t need. Yet—he’d tossed and turned all night thinking about her.
For the first time in his life, the smell of another woman lingered in his thoughts. And hers was the first image that surfaced when he woke up. Maybe it could be an advantage, the fact that she would be leaving town in a few days? Maybe that was the exact woman to date for the first time in years. Someone nonthreatening.
Once a week, Maddie had a standing date with her grandmother. His mother would happily keep Maddie for a sleepover either tonight or tomorrow night if he asked, especially if she got a whiff of a date.
He sighed as he pictured what her face would look like when he told her he had a date.
Shit. If he had a date. Cam snuck another glance over his shoulder at Lydia across the room. She wore fitted black pants and another silk shirt that flowed and billowed over her tight body much in the way he’d imagined water would cascade over her slick skin. She had already kicked off her ridiculous heels and was now walking around barefoot. Her delicate toes were painted a cherry red. His mouth went dry.
“Is that a hammer in your tool belt, or are you just happy to see me?” Kyra’s voice came out of nowhere.
“Huh?” Startled, he jerked his head down to make sure the tool belt was in fact covering his excitement. Excitement at what exactly? Lydia’s toes? He wasn’t exactly a fetish freak. He breathed a sigh of relief. No one could see the bulge beneath his tools.
He looked up to find Kyra standing awfully close. She lean
ed against the white wall, running her finger down the length of the frame he’d just hung.
“Cameron…” she said in a breathy voice. Her face contorted into a weird sort of pout thing, and she batted her lashes, a bit of mascara flaking off and landing in little black specs on her cheek. “Cam,” she repeated, her tone less seductive and more annoyed this time.
“Yeah.” He forced himself to meet her eyes instead of staring at the weird creases her makeup created.
“I said…” she swallowed hard, blinking rapidly, her lips pushing into a frown. “My, um, car’s on the fritz. Could you give me a ride to the Founder’s Dinner?”
Relief melted through his body and he squeezed her arm. “I’d be happy to. I only have so much room in my truck, though. I’ll drop my family off first and come get you once they’re all settled.”
Kyra’s head tilted to the side, her bright pink lips so glossy that as she shifted her mouth to smile, the gloss slid down outside of her lips as though it was melting off of her. “You know where I live?”
“Of course. Any friend of Ronnie’s.” He clapped her on the shoulder. “I’ll be there about six o’clock.”
A smile flipped up at the corners of her mouth. “It’s a date.” She stood there, unmoving as though she had more to say.
Lifting the hammer from his belt, he placed a hand on the next art piece to hang. “Was that all?” He returned his gaze to her eyes—she was… pretty. And if he hadn’t grown up watching her play dolls with his little sister, maybe he could have liked her in that sort of way. In the way he liked Lydia. In some ways, a relationship with Kyra would be a hell of a lot easier. His family already loved her. She was local, she was great with Maddie. He examined her tight black pencil skirt and a yellow cardigan with, what looked like to Cam, no shirt underneath. A leopard print belt pinched high on her waist, pushing her cleavage higher. She was attractive. Probably gorgeous… he just couldn’t see her in that way.
She shook her head, backing away. “Um, yeah. Nothing else.”
“Here ya go.” He pulled one of his business cards out of his wallet and handed it to her. “Just in case something comes up, call my cell.”
She smiled, her teeth spectacularly white against her sun-kissed skin. They could light the way in a dark cave. She took his business card, and the way she brushed her fingernail across his hand reminded him of the first time Lydia touched him. The same brush of a fingernail across his flesh.
With Lydia, it had been electric—a shiver of excitement. With Kyra, he felt… nothing. How was that even possible? An attractive woman was touching him. He shouldn’t feel nothing. But even as Kyra’s curvy rear end swung back and forth, his libido simply gave a lazy yawn.
‡
Chapter Twelve
As Lydia watched Cam and the school secretary, an uneasy feeling crawled over her body.
Not even five minutes ago, she had caught Cam staring at her from the corner of her eye. His look was steamy, sexy. The sort of stare that crawled inside of you and made your sex drive awaken like a hungry monster. But now—he was smiling at Kyra. Maybe she had just been imagining their chemistry all along? Maybe these damn hormones had impaired her judgment.
Maddie clutched Lydia’s wrist and tugged. “Let’s talk here.”
Lydia grabbed her purse and shoes from the floor, and the two went to the corner of the gym that seemed the most quiet.
“I like your toenail polish,” Maddie said, brushing a small finger across Lydia’s big toe.
“Thanks—I can paint yours, too if you want. For the auction.” Lydia paused, taking an exaggerated moment to feign deep thought. “Then again, you’d have to wear some sort of open-toed heel that night to really showcase it.”
“Dad says I’m not allowed to wear heels until I’m older.” Pulling her knees to her chest, she dropped her chin in a pout.
“Oh, all dads say that.” Lydia gave her a calculating smile. “I was wearing them by the time I was twelve. I bet we can find a pair that he’ll approve of.”
Maddie perked up at that. “Yeah? There’s so many people coming. The mayor and Maya Rivera’s this cool artist that used to live here. Uncle Sal from Sal’s Used Car Lot and Mistress Vine and…”
“Wait,” Lydia interrupted, “Mistress Vine is coming? The, er, performer?” How in the world did a well-established transgender performance artist end up in Maple Grove for a charity auction? Lydia had seen her perform a few times in the city before she became a national sensation. Now you couldn’t even get tickets when they went on sale. The Star had been clamoring for a Mistress Vine exposé for over a year now. But Lydia had her sights set higher—a poignant profile about growing up transgendered in a small town like Maple Grove and her rise to stardom.
Maddie nodded, her eyes wide and excited. “Uh-huh. When Grandma and me were just getting the event started, we sent out prest-releases to all these people…”
“Press releases,” Lydia corrected.
“Yeah. And Mistress Vine and a few others said they might come. We sent one to Tanja Schifter because she’s from New Hampshire, too. Even though she couldn’t make it, she sent me a letter. It was signed and everything.”
“This seems like an awfully long trip for Mistress Vine. Did she say why she was coming?”
Maddie glanced around, eyes landing on her dad before bringing her gaze back to Lydia. “Her mom died of heart failure too.”
“You two have a lot in common, then. You must be so excited to meet her. Do you think you could introduce me?”
“Yeah.” She grinned and tossed her hair over one shoulder, an action Lydia recognized from herself. It was the diva-gesture she used when she wanted to project more confidence than she had.
Heat rushed up her neck and over her cheeks seeing a little girl mimic her. Was it a once in a lifetime thing for her? Even still, she was grateful for the moment of happiness, no matter how unexpected it was.
“You’ll have to take a picture of all of us.” Maddie crooked a finger in front of Lydia’s nose, gesturing for her to closer. “I also sent out an invitation to Scarlet Langmire. She’s my dad’s favorite actress. He always said she looked like my mom. She never wrote back. I don’t really care if she comes now, though.”
Lydia caught a glimpse of Kyra strutting out of the gym, her hips moving in an unnatural rhythm from side to side. Ba-dum, ba-dum.
“Hey, Maddie—what’s the deal with Ms. Daveda and your dad?” Lydia played with her bag, digging around as though she were looking for something. Casual. No big deal.
Judging by the smile Maddie shot her way, she wasn’t very successful. “She’s best friends with my Aunt Ronnie.”
“Not your dad?”
“I don’t think so.”
Lydia couldn’t tear her eyes away from Cam. His gaze seemed to be locked on Kyra’s ass as she took her time exiting the gym. “You sure about that?”
Maddie played with a charm on Lydia’s camera bag, rolling it over between her fingers. “Oh, yeah. She’s always finding reasons to talk to him, and he always looks bored. And every time she talks to him, she looks like this.” Maddie clamped her hands together and held them up to her cheeks, batting her eyes like some sort of smitten princess.
“It looks so cute when you do it.” Lydia laughed and smoothed some flyaway hairs on Maddie’s head.
There was a moment of quiet, and Lydia took some notes about the various art pieces. The arrangement of the room was so clever, with each child’s piece of art hung next to his or her mentor’s so that the adults could see the parallels between them. Yep, pretty damn smart.
“Lydia?”
“Mmm?”
“Are we friends?”
Lydia dropped the notebook into her lap, her pants rustling beneath it. Shit. Cam was right. Maddie was getting attached. It had only been a day. She swallowed. “Of course we are.”
Maddie smiled. “Okay. My friends were saying you were too old to want to be my friend.”
Another stray
hair was stuck in Maddie’s face. Lydia couldn’t help but think if she had a mother, those beautiful dark locks would be combed into a headband. Or a bow. Something sweet and girlie. Instead, she had a dad who owned a contracting business. A man who knew nothing of heels and nail polish and hair bows. Lydia tucked the stray hair behind Maddie’s ear. “We are absolutely friends, Maddie. One of the nicest things about my job is that I’ve made friends all over the world.”
Maddie’s smile faltered. It was only for a second, but Lydia noticed the slight quiver in her voice when she spoke. “And we’ll stay friends when you go back? Maybe we could be pen pals? I read about them, but I’ve never had one before.”
“Oh. Um, yeah. We can be email pen pals… a newer spin on a classic. That would be fun, huh?”
Lydia swallowed. Did she even know how to remain on speaking terms with a child? Sure, she can pretend for a few days to get a story, but she never had any motherly role models in her life. Is that something you can learn? Did you just get used to it?
Maddie sat up straighter and her eyes shot over Lydia’s shoulder. “You could be email pen pals with Dad, too.” There it was. Hope. Lydia had just given hope to this poor little girl that there was something more lasting between all of them. She should squash it. Put the pin in it right now… prevent heartbreak on all sides. But as she opened her mouth to say ‘no’, her lungs seized like a boa constrictor tightening in a vice grip around her chest.
She leaned in closer to Maddie. “I want to be pen pals with you. Your dad is just an added benefit.”
“Maddie, the bell’s about to ring. Why don’t you go get your books for your next class.”
The sound of Cam’s voice made Lydia jump. She clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle a yelp. Maddie fell over laughing, grabbing her stomach.
“Why you little…” Lydia leaned over to tickle her. “You knew he was standing right there.”
“Maddie,” Cam’s voice boomed. “I mean it, you’re going to be late.” Leaning over, he lifted her backpack and helped put it on her shoulders.
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