They collapsed to their sides, a tangled mass of limbs and sweat and messy hair. Cam brushed an errant strand from Lydia’s eyes, and her smile was met with his own grin. Her eyelids were heavy and half closed.
“Don’t fall asleep yet,” he coaxed. His smile was enough to melt her panties off—well, if she were wearing any, that is. “We’ve still got dessert.”
“You mean to tell me that wasn’t dessert?”
“Hell no.” Cam popped up, and wrapping a sheet around his waist, walked into the front room. Glancing through the window beside the front door, he turned the knob. Through the open bedroom door, Lydia could see Cam bending over not just a piece—but an entire lemon meringue pie. He held it in his palm, grinning like a neighborhood boy who just won the bike race, and winked. “Lila must’ve suspected you would have company.”
‡
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The morning sliver of pink light streamed through the cracked curtain. It sliced across Cam’s face. He blinked awake, lashes fluttering, and looked to the digital clock on the nightstand beside him. 8:34.
Lydia’s soft flesh pressed against his morning Mister Happy, and he swept his lips across her neck, brushing the wild golden strands out of the way of his mouth. She moaned and drove that tight ass harder against his shaft. Inhaling her sweet scent, he ran his tongue up to her ear and scraped his teeth against her lobe while palming the damp moisture between her legs. She bucked beneath his touch and stretched against him, causing the little bit of sheet that was covering her lush breasts to slip down to her ribs. Cam grunted at the sight of her pink nipples and slid his other hand around to cup the soft, tender flesh. Her nipples were hardened peaks between his fingers, and he pinched and rolled them until she was purring beside him.
“Well, good morning to you, too,” she said through a smile. The same smile that made his heart rate spike. Damn, she needed to do that more. It lit up a room more than a halogen bulb.
“Right back at you,” he murmured against her lips, drawing her in for a kiss. There was a hint of lemon meringue still on her tongue from the pie they had devoured and spread on each other’s bodies. His cock twitched at the memory of lemon filling being licked off of his body. They’d spent the night playing childhood games—most of which they had somehow turned into something dirty. And somewhere halfway through the Duck Tales movie, they’d fallen asleep.
She pulled back from his kiss, legs spread across his waist, and keenly inspected his face. The attention caused shivers to roll over his skin, and he returned her gaze with narrowed eyes. “What?” he asked.
“Just…” But her voice dropped away, and the glimmer that sparked in her eyes quickly dimmed. “Need a shower. I’m all sticky.”
He nodded. That couldn’t have been what she was going to say, could it? Damn, he forgot how hard women were to figure out. He had almost figured out all of Hannah’s innuendos… almost. And now, here he was… back to square one.
Shit. His stomach clenched. Hesitation gnawed at his core. Was he really ready for this? To start dating again? Not only dating—but seeing a woman who lived hours away? Nothing about this girl suggested a woman wanting to live a small-town life. And he certainly never imagined he could do the city thing. But maybe for Lydia, he could try…
She tilted her head, eyes crinkling with a smile. The sunlight caught the grey in her eyes, and they twinkled like sun peeking through clouds. She stared so deeply inside of him, Cam feared she could read right through to his thoughts.
He remembered Callie’s comment about Hannah being a Boston girl initially. Would it be so terrible? Living in a suburb of Boston as a compromise?
“Your turn…” Lydia interrupted his thoughts. “What’s going on up here?” She tapped at his forehead.
He grabbed her finger, placing a kiss on the tip. “Ever been to Boston?” He pulled her down back into his arms, and she nestled her cheek into his chest.
“Boston?” she repeated, and Cam stilled. “You were thinking of Boston while I sat above you with my breasts in your face?” Tone mock-incredulous, she gave him a light tap on the arm. “I guess I need to get back to the gym.”
“Or at least invest in a push-up bra.”
This time, her slap was a little harder.
She rolled on top of him, eyes wide and smile wider as she positioned her hips over his erect dick. He slid between her folds—not quite inside yet, but gliding along her mound. His breath quickened, and he watched as she moaned, her head falling back.
“Your breasts are perfect.” Cam slid an errant hair behind her ear and pressed a soft kiss to her neck. “Your nose is perfect.” Another kiss there. “Everything about you is just about perfect.”
“Just about?” She arched an eyebrow. Moisture slicked against his cock as she thrust against him for emphasis.
Cam swallowed, casting his eyes away from her. “Yeah. I need to call out the elephant in the room. Lydia…”
Her grin wobbled before she took a steely breath, meeting his eyes once more. “I guess we do.”
“Lydia…” Cam continued, “You’re a Yankees fan, aren’t you?”
Her beautiful, bow-shaped lips froze in an open position before they split into another grin. “You little…” Digging her fingers into his sides, she searched for a ticklish spot.
Cam pressed his lips together, holding his breath. Unless she ventured down to the bottoms of his feet, she’d never find his weakness. He tried her instead, diving in at the sides of her ribcage, and she squirmed against him, tossing her head back and laughing. Her breathing slowed, and he cupped the side of her jaw, circling his thumb over her bottom lip.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered, more to himself. He never thought he’d find another woman’s laugh as beautiful as Hannah’s.
Lydia sighed against him and met his mouth with hers, running her tongue along his bottom lip. “Care to finish this in the shower?” She flicked a glance down to his erection.
“Hell, yeah.”
“You put the coffee on. I’ll start the water for us.” She smacked another quick kiss before hopping off of him.
Cam groaned, adjusting his raging erection. He stared transfixed on her glorious body as she pranced into the bathroom.
“Give me a few moments to clean myself up first,” she called from the bathroom.
He took his time standing and stretching. Coffee, huh? He walked into the kitchen, filling the coffee maker with water and a few scoops of coffee ground.
Wandering around his guest house, he inspected the place. It had been a while since he’d spent a night there. On the desk, a few images peeked out of a folder. Maddie’s smiling face beamed back at him, and Cam’s heart swelled at the sight of his daughter. A few more pictures were under it, and he reached in to have a look. They fluttered to the floor in a pile at his feet, and he bent to retrieve them. Notes were written in the margins of most of them.
The first was an image of Cam looking over at Kyra while Maddie whined at him. The scribbled notes read: Womanizing Father Can’t Focus Long Enough to Parent. Cam went numb and shook his head, reading the caption once more. Surely, he mustn’t have seen that right. He read it again. And then another time.
Fire spread through his blood, heat flushing to every extremity. No… this must be a mistake. He flipped to the next picture. It was him in the coffee shop, head in his hands. Maddie was a blur of motion running toward the camera. Single Father: Overworked or Just Negligent. The exact image Lydia had promised him she wouldn’t use. Nausea gripped his stomach as he flipped to the next one. And the next one. Picture after picture depicted a family who couldn’t get their shit together. Noah’s words rang in his ears: Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
He fell onto the bed, staring at the images, finally flipping to the last one. It was a closeup of him. He stared directly into the lens of the camera. He is just a story.
Cam swallowed, the words piercing his heart. Gutting him so that his innards fell to the floor. H
is eyes traveled to the bathroom where steam billowed. Was that really how she saw him? Just another story—passing through as quickly as a breeze through a window?
The first woman he dared open his heart to since Hannah, and she turned out to simply be using him for a better story. Is this what Noah had meant? Did she do this exact same thing to him? God, he was such an idiot. Why he thought he could trust this stranger over his own flesh and blood. He snatched his pants from the floor, dressing quickly. The images stared back at him from the dresser, and he hesitated before shoving them back into her folder.
Fuck this story. And fuck her. Checking his pockets for his keys and wallet, he slipped out of the guest house and out of Lydia Ryder’s life.
‡
Chapter Twenty-Nine
As quickly as Lydia could, she brushed her teeth, ran the razor over her legs and sudsed up her hair. After wiping away last night’s makeup that raccooned her eyes, she stole a quick glance in the fogged mirror with a smile. “Cam, where are you?”
Silence hummed.
Huh. That’s strange. “Cam?” she called again, shutting the water off and wrapping the towel around herself.
Peeking around the corner, she saw the room was empty. The bed still sat in rumpled form in the middle of the room. From the kitchen, the coffee pot gurgled and percolated. Her stomach lurched—Cam was gone?
Lydia tiptoed to the door and stole a look across the yard at his cottage, not sure what she was even looking for. Hot tingles sizzled over her skin, and vulnerability sliced through her. He’d left? She scanned the room for a note—a text—a phone call… anything. But there was nothing in the room except her bruised ego. No trace of Cam except for the half-eaten pie that sat on the desk.
Anger quickly replaced the embarrassment. Red, scorching anger. She grabbed her phone, dialing Cam’s cell. It went right to voicemail—her voice cracked at the beep, and she stopped herself short of leaving a foul message. Instead she jabbed her finger against the end-call button and threw her phone on the bed. The damp towel was rough against her sternum, and she clutched it tighter to her breasts, water droplets squeezing between her fingers.
This was ridiculous. There had to be a reasonable explanation. Cam was one of the good guys—why the hell would he just leave after such an amazing night? The way he looked at her this morning… the mention of Boston… he wanted a relationship. And he had just about convinced her to give it a try. Despite her crazy job. Despite her inability to bear him more children. Despite her inept maternal side. Sure, Boston was no New York… but maybe it was time for a new chapter.
Cam had probably gotten a call from Maddie. Yes. Absolutely—his child must have needed him for some reason or another, and he had to rush out. Without thinking, he just forgot to leave her a note. Or simply call out to her… she shook the thought from her head. He’d call. She was certain of it. But even as she thought the words, uncertainty nipped at her heels.
She wiped her eyes and stood, taking another look in the mirror. The reflection reminded her of Kyra last night in the bathroom. Kyra. Lydia realized what she needed to do.
An hour later, her hair was straightened, her makeup was touched up to perfection, and she’d slipped on her most comfortable pair of loafers, the ones perfect for walking around uneven sidewalks.
She tucked the latest issue of the City Star into her purse, pausing to look at Mara’s headshot under the editor’s note. Mara almost never allowed her image in the issues—this was a few months old, and Lydia only had it with her because it featured a similar small-town story. Grabbing her camera, she threw it around her neck and headed out the door directly across the lawn to Cam’s house.
She pounded a fist against his door and placed her ear up against it. No stirrings from inside. And his truck was gone. She knocked once more and when there was no answer, she got into her car.
There’s only one place a girl could rely on when something is wrong. And she was pretty sure it was exactly where Kyra would be on a Saturday morning before a big event.
*
The salon was far busier than it had been the day before, Lydia noted as the bells at the top of the door chimed a welcome.
“Lydia, hey. Another mani-pedi?” Gladys looked up from filing a woman’s nails.
“Just the mani,” Lydia answered, pausing before adding, “Thanks.”
Gladys tilted her chin to a clipboard sitting up front. “Put your name down and we’ll call you in a few.”
Lydia scanned the names—there were only three ahead of hers—Kyra’s was sandwiched between the others. Bingo.
She glanced around the waiting area, but Kyra was nowhere to be seen. Lydia scribbled her name at the bottom of the list and took a seat, snatching up the last In Touch magazine on the side table. She flipped through the glossy pages, her eyes scanning the sidewalk outside.
A door slammed from the back of the salon, and heels clacked against the floor. Lydia glanced up to find Kyra standing over her. Her eyes were no longer puffy and red, but she was surprisingly void of the overdone makeup. In its place was a naturally beautiful face. There was no skin-pinching capri pant and belted cardigan. Instead, she wore soft-looking jeans and a fitted white T-shirt.
“Kyra?” Lydia squeaked. “Wow… you look beautiful.”
Kyra snorted, rolling her eyes and plopped down into the seat across from Lydia. “We don’t all have the time and money to dress to the nines every day.”
“I’m serious. You look really pretty today. Naturally pretty.”
Kyra stared at her through the corners of her eyes. “You mean that?”
Lydia nodded.
Chewing her lip and sitting a little taller, Kyra dug around her purse. Pulling out some gum, she offered a piece to Lydia. “I, um, sort of overheard some of the conversation between you and Noah last night. Did you two used to…” she tapped her fingers, eyes wide, “you know?”
“No,” Lydia said, cringing. Ugh, her and Noah? There was no point hiding the truth now, right? Cam knew, Noah was here… the whole damn town would know the gossip soon enough. “A few months ago, I was hired as a freelancer for my first magazine story. Because I’d never done celebrity coverage before, they sent me with a ghost writer who had some experience to help me land the story.” She paused with a glance around. “Well, Noah had told me some off the record things about—”
“Hannah’s funeral,” Kyra finished for her. “Oh, my God. The Daily View article. Hot Actor, Cold Heart, right? That was you?”
She cringed even hearing the title. “Sort of. I had no idea the ghost rewrote my story to include the off-the-record information. Honestly. I even still have my initial article I wrote. I kept it just in case the magazine ran into any legal issues.”
“Oh, girl. This is bad. Cam already doesn’t trust journalists… when he finds out—”
“That’s the thing,”—she leaned in to whisper. “Noah told him last night and… and it barely phased him. He said everyone has a past and it wasn’t a big deal. But then this morning, he was gone. No note, no goodbye, nothing! Just gone. After an amazing night.”
Kyra’s blush deepened. “You two… like, you and Cam?”
Guilt ripped through her belly as she remembered Kyra’s tears in the bathroom the night before. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“It’s really okay. I realized… after a long night of ice cream and girl talk… that I didn’t even really know Cam. I only knew the idealized version I had built up in my mind.”
“I don’t really have many girlfriends. I don’t think I really know how to be one.” Lydia looked down at her to-go cup of coffee. “I really like Cam. But I also like you, and want us to be friends.”
“I’ll be fine.” Kyra’s smile trembled, but her eyes were soft. “I’ve had a crush on him since high school… I just need to let it go.” She sighed. “He was a senior when I was just a freshman. And this girl, Tammy that was also a senior, was such a bitch—she’d pick on me, knock my books out of my
hand. Make fun of my A-cups.” Kyra glanced down at her over-abundant breasts and offered a tilted smile. “Who got the last laugh about that one? But Cam always stepped in and helped me pick up my books. Would stand up for me… not to mention others in the school.”
Lydia’s arms stiffened. Kyra had known Mara when she was in high school. And big surprise—she was as big a bitch back then as she was now. “You mean, you knew Mar—uh, Tamara?”
Kyra nodded with an eye roll. “Unfortunately.”
This was it… Kyra would know. Of course! She was the town gossip. She would have to know what happened between them. What could have possibly gotten into Mara to demand such humiliation out of Cam Tripp?
“She sounds hideous.” Lydia did her best to sound nonchalant. Friendly. Two girlfriends chatting about town gossip.
“Oh my God, you don’t know the half of it.” Kyra stood, walking over to the wall of polish colors. “For some reason no one ever understood, Cam and this girl dated. It wasn’t for very long, but because she was the senior editor of the yearbook, she got them put in as the cutest couple superlative. She was popular, but just horrible to anyone not in her crowd. And even within her group of friends, she was catty. They broke up a week after the yearbooks came out and she threw a complete tantrum.” Kyra swiveled to face Lydia holding up two shades of pink—bubblegum and fuchsia. “Which one?”
“Huh?” Lydia was on the edge of her seat. “Oh, uh… that one.” Lydia pointed to the darker pink. “So, they broke up? Who cares? People break up with their high school relationships all the time.”
“Oh, right. Well, Tamara stuck around. Worked for the paper here in Maple Grove. We all knew she was just sticking around to win Cam back, even though he was totally in love with Hannah. I mean, it broke my heart to see him taken off the market, too, but I cared about him. About all the Tripps. I really do just want him to be happy.” Kyra turned and placed the bubblegum pink back on the shelf. “But then she totally got knocked up.” She dropped her voice to a husky whisper, looking around the salon as though she were participating in the next Watergate.
Capturing You (Maple Grove Romance Book 1) Page 21