That Night in Texas

by Joss Wood

  “I’m Joe’s head chef.”

  Cam turned his head to look at her, his eyebrows raised. “You’re kiddin’.”

  Vivi narrowed her eyes at him. “Please tell me that you aren’t another Neanderthal man who thinks that only men should barbecue.”

  Cam’s lips twitched. “Hell, I don’t care who prepares my barbecue as long as it’s done right. And at The Rollin’ Smoke, it’s done right.”

  Vivi nodded. “Damn straight.” She started to pull her bottom lip between her teeth and remembered that she had a cut that needed healing. “I saw you there, at the restaurant, about three months back. You were eating lunch with Ryder Currin.”

  Cam nodded. “I eat with Ryder quite often and your place is one of our favorite places.”

  “I was in the kitchen and I saw you.” She didn’t tell him she’d felt like she’d been hit by a two-by-four, that her baby girl had been in the restaurant that day and he’d actually laid eyes on her before. Why complicate the story? “I asked who you were and then I did some research.”

  “What did you find out?”

  “You’re rich. You’re successful. Along with Ryder Currin and Sterling Perry, you’re considered to be one of the most influential businesspeople in Houston.” Vivi picked at the rip in her jeans and stared out the window, idly noticing that they were just five minutes from her house. “It always worried me that Clem had no one, and if I died, she would become a ward of the state or, possibly worse, end up with my mother. I didn’t know you, but I presumed that you would be a better option if something happened to me. So I listed you as my emergency contact, gave you custody of her in my will.”

  “And you didn’t think that it might a good idea to tell me that I had a kid?”

  She had, occasionally. But then she’d wavered, scared of the consequences. Because, while researching Cam, she’d discovered that the man was a control freak, a lone wolf, and that he rarely, if ever, sought business advice. It was his way, colleagues and associates were often quoted as saying, or the highway.

  And that didn’t work for her.

  Cam pulled up to her sidewalk, parked and switched off the growly engine. Silence filled the car and Vivi slowly removed his sunglasses and carefully folded the arms.

  “So why didn’t you contact me when you found out who I was?” Cam asked.

  Vivi placed the sunglasses on the lid of the console and met his eyes. She decided to tell him the truth, or some of the truth. “Because I knew that your coming into our lives would change it. And I like our life, I like what I’ve done with it.”

  Can rested his wrist on the steering wheel. “Change isn’t always bad, Vivi.”

  Vivi opened the door, and when her feet touched the sidewalk, she looked back at him through the open car door. “No, it’s not always bad but it’s frequently hard. And messy.”

  * * *

  Vivi’s house was a small bungalow in a solidly middle-class area. Cam slammed his car door closed and looked up and down the empty street. It was early afternoon and the streets were deserted, with most people at work. But up and down the street, he could see signs that families lived here. A tricycle lay on the postage-stamp lawn belonging to Vivi’s neighbor, a soccer ball rested against a rock next to the front door of the house opposite. Cam followed Vivi up the path to her front door and wondered how she was going to break into her own house, seeing that her house keys were probably somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico by now.

  Vivi didn’t miss a beat. She just lifted her mat, removed a brass key and inserted it into the flimsy lock on the front door. Seriously? Who did that anymore? In his previous life that would be the first place he’d look. “You have got to be kiddin’ me.”

  Vivi frowned at him as she pushed open the front door and stepped inside the cool interior. “Problem?”

  “I cannot believe you keep a front-door key under your mat. Have you heard about these characters called burglars? Rapists? Serial killers?” Cam demanded, shutting the door behind him and flipping the dead bolt. He saw her surprise and threw up his hands. “Please, please tell me that you lock your doors when you are here alone.”

  “It’s a safe neighborhood.”

  Oh, God, that meant she didn’t. Cam slapped his hands on his hips and closed his eyes, striving for calm. He knew it was a long shot, but it was worth a try, if only to get his blood pressure to drop. “You do have an alarm?”

  “Nope.”

  “Mace? Pepper spray? A baseball bat?”

  Vivi toed off her ruined sneakers and left them next to the door. Her feet were grubby, but he could still see the pale pink shade of polish on her toes. Sexy feet, he thought. He now remembered nibbling the arch of that elegant foot, and the way she’d shivered when he scraped his teeth against her skin.

  Not important, he told himself, especially when she was living in a house a ten-year-old could break into. He’d need to get his security guy out here, to put a decent lock on all the doors and install an alarm. If he didn’t, he’d never sleep again. Or he’d be bunking down on her couch every night.

  Cam followed Vivi into a small living room containing two brightly covered sofas. A small TV sat on a wooden box and a bunch of bright flowers stood on a small table next to a bookcase. Cam narrowed his eyes and read the titles: a little romance, a lot of cookbooks, some true crime. He turned around slowly, saw the small dining table and, beyond it, a galley kitchen. A tiny pink handprint on a sheet of white paper was attached to the door of the fridge with a daisy magnet. He looked but he couldn’t find any photos of her daughter—his daughter—anywhere.

  “I was hoping to see a photo of Clementine.”

  “I normally have a bunch out but I’m having them reframed.” Vivi’s deep brown eyes, exhausted and full of pain, met his. “I have some on my phone.” Then Cam caught the sheen of tears and watched as she swiped angrily at them. “Crap, no phone! My life is on my phone. My banking apps, my photos, my contacts, recipes... Everything.”

  Cam knew that the experiences of the day were coming back to pummel her, and she was fast running out of steam. She needed to shower and get some rest. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ask him to buy her another phone, to lend her money to tide her over until she managed to get new bank cards. He wouldn’t be surprised if she asked him to rent her a car or, hell, buy her one. He’d had girlfriends who thought sex gave them immediate access to his credit cards, so Vivi asking him for help wouldn’t surprise him. But in this case, he’d give it. Clem was his daughter and there was no way he’d watch Vivi struggle when he could make her life easier.

  And if he were the oil rigger he’d been years ago, if he’d been eating at The Rollin’ Smoke as a normal guy at a normal table, drinking water instead of craft beer, would she still have tracked him down, found out who he was? How much of a factor was his money in Vivi’s decision to name him as Clem’s father, to list him as her go-to person? Would he be half so attractive without his money?

  He didn’t think so.

  But instead of making demands, asking for help, Vivi walked into the kitchen and filled a glass with tap water. After drinking it down, she gripped the sink and gazed at the wall of her neighbor’s house with a thousand-yard stare and panic-filled eyes.

  To hell with it. She ought to be done with this day, with trying to remain strong, with attempting to keep it all together. He was taking over. Cam dumped his phone and wallet on the dining table and walked toward her. When he reached her, he bent his knees and scooped her up against his chest.

  “What the hell, McNeal?”

  Cam glared down at her. “Just for a second, stop thinking. Is Clem safe for a few hours?”

  Vivi nodded. “Yes.”

  “Okay then.” He walked into the hallway and nudged open the first door with his foot. A small bed, stuffed toys on the pillow, little girl shoes on the floor. Clementine’s room and not what he w
as looking for.

  “What are you doing?” Vivi demanded, her body stiff in his arms.

  The bathroom was the next room and Cam walked inside and dropped Vivi onto the toilet seat. Ignoring her squawk, he flipped on the taps to the shower and met her angry glare. “Again, what the hell are you doing?” she demanded.

  Cam squatted down in front of her, balancing on his toes. He rested his arm on his knee and met her eyes. “Vivianne, you’ve had a hell of a day. You had a close call, you are banged up and bruised. You’re dealing with me, the father of your child, someone you didn’t expect in your life. You have things to do and are facing a few uncomfortable days.”

  Vivi stared down at her hands and he saw her shoulders shake. Dammit, he was saying this wrong. He placed his hands on her thighs and tapped her thigh with his index finger.

  “Look at me, Viv.”

  He waited until all that brown met his blue. “I’m here and as much as you want me to, I’m not going away. Not today.”

  Vivi stared at a point past his shoulder. “I can’t... I’m not good at accepting help.”

  “I don’t care. Today you’re going to.” Cam stood up and flipped the shower taps to maximum. “So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to shower and while you wash that river off you, I’ll make you some tea, maybe something to eat. Then you’re going to climb into bed.”

  Vivi shook her head. “I can’t, Cam. I need to collect Clem, I need to find a phone, make arrangements for a car.”

  Stubborn had a new name and it was Vivi. “Yeah, you’re not hearing me, Viv. I’m not going anywhere. For today, I’m your phone, I’m your lift, I’m the barrier standing between you and the outside world. I’m going to do whatever you need to do because you need to rest.”

  Vivi opened her mouth to argue, took a breath and slowly nodded. “I’ll take two hours from you. Two hours and a cup of tea.”

  “Three hours, a cup of tea and a grilled cheese sandwich. And we’ll pick up Clementine together.”

  Vivi shook her head. “I don’t think I’m ready for that, Cam.”

  Cam lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “I don’t think I am, either, but that’s what’s going to happen.” He nodded at the shower before taking a step toward the door. Because the room was so damn small, one step was all it took to put him by the door. “Call if you need help.”

  “I won’t.”

  Cam closed the door behind him and rested his forehead on the thin door. She acted so independent and determined, but was she really? Despite his so-called infallible BS detector, he had to wonder if he was reading her wrong. Was she just lulling him into a false sense of security, acting independent so that when she finally stung him, when she finally asked something of him, he wouldn’t mind? Could she be that manipulative, that wily?

  Yeah, he was cynical but he hadn’t become that way by fluke and coincidence. And what was the point of worrying? He’d wait and see. Vivi would either disappoint him as so many had before her, or she’d surprise him. He’d expect the first and not hope for the second. That way he wouldn’t feel let down.

  Again.

  Four

  Three hours later, Vivi staggered out of her bed, thoroughly disoriented. Standing by the side of her bed, she stared out her window, surprised to see that the sun was still shining. She looked down at the pair of men’s boxer shorts she’d pulled on and the thin tank top and wondered why she was dressed in her pj’s in the middle of the afternoon. And why was it so quiet?

  She had a toddler. Quiet was not good.

  “Clem is safe, you’re safe. Take a breath.”

  Vivi spun around and saw Camden McNeal standing in the doorway to her room, wearing designer jeans and a dark green T-shirt. His hair was shorter, there were fine lines around his eyes that hadn’t been three years ago. And what was he doing in her house on a—God, what was today?

  And where the hell was Clem?

  Vivi lifted her hand to her throat, panic closing her throat.

  “You had an accident. Clementine is fine. She’s at the sitters. Charlie?”

  Vivi sat down on the edge of the bed and dropped her head down, waiting for her dizziness to pass. Memories pieced themselves together. Near drowning, Cam as emergency contact, hospital, concussion. It was all coming back to her now. Blowing air out of her cheeks, she slowly lifted her head. “How long did I sleep for?”

  “About three hours. I was just coming to wake you.”

  Vivi nodded her head and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the freestanding, secondhand mirror in the corner. She’d fallen asleep with wet hair and it was a mass of tangled, frizzy curls. She had a pillow crease on her left cheek, a bruise forming on her eyebrow, cheek and jaw. She was almost scared to look down, but she did. Black and blue with a few wonderful scrapes to break the monotony.

  Because she wanted to cry—partly because she looked like hell in front of the ever-delicious-looking Camden McNeal—Vivi tried humor. “Holy crap. Clem is going to insist on kissing all these bruises better and that’s going to take some time.”

  Cam pushed his broad shoulder into the door frame and she saw the heat in his eyes. She glanced down and, yep, there was that telltale bulge behind the buttons of his jeans. “I’d be more than happy to take over when she gets tired.”

  He would, too. He’d be gentle with her, kiss her slowly, investigate every inch of her battered skin and then he’d caress her in such a way that she’d not only forget that she’d been in an accident but her own name. If they started tasting and touching each other, everything else would fade.

  Vivi pulled her eyes away, tipped her head back and stared up at the ceiling. She couldn’t go there, not with him. Their time to be lovers had passed. Now they had to find a new way of dealing with each other. A way that included Clem.

  That was if Cam wanted to be part of Clem’s life. She didn’t even know. Right now, there were more important things to talk about, to figure out, than their crazy, combustible attraction.

  Vivi gestured to her closet. “I’m going to get dressed and then maybe we can chat over a cup of coffee?”

  Cam had the coffee ready when Vivi walked into her tiny, open-floor-plan living area ten minutes later. She’d changed into cutoff denims and flip-flops, pulling an open-neck, red-and-white-check shirt over her tank top and knotting it at the waist. Most of the bruises on her body were hidden and she’d toned down the ones on her face with some concealer. With her hair pulled back into a messy bun on the top of her head—her muscles ached too much to do anything more with the heavy mass—she felt 10 percent better and marginally human. She smiled her thanks at Cam as he pushed her coffee across the table.

  “I left it black. That okay?”

  “Sure.”

  Cam pulled out her chair and Vivi wasn’t particularly surprised at his show of manners. Years ago, he’d opened doors for her, let her enter a room first. Held out chairs. Someone had drilled Southern manners into him somewhere along the way. Vivi watched as Cam took the chair opposite her, an unfamiliar laptop next to his elbow.

  “That yours?” she asked, nodding to the state-of-the-art device.

  A power cable snaked toward an electrical socket and a glass of water sat off to the right, next to a pile of folders. He’d arranged her small fan so that the air blew on him as he worked. She could see that all the windows to her small house were open. He’d also, at some point, sat on one of her small sofas—her cushions had been pushed to one end and a couple were on the floor. Cam McNeal had made himself very much at home in her space while she slept.

  “Yeah,” Cam replied, lifting his cup to his lips. “I managed to get some work done while you were sleeping. Do you feel better?”

  Vivi considered his question. “I’m sore but I’m not feeling so...emotional.”

  “A near drowning will do that to you.”

&nbs
p; As will waking up and seeing the father of your child next to your bed. It was time to address the elephant in the room. “We need to talk about Clementine, Cam.”

  “Yeah.”

  She suspected that only pride kept him from squirming. Oh, he looked so inscrutable, so calm, but in the tapping of his finger against his coffee mug and the slight shift in his chair, Vivi saw that he wasn’t quite as insouciant as he wanted to be.

  “Let me tell you about Clem.” Vivi wondered where to start and decided that there was no point in pussyfooting around. “She’s strong-willed, bossy, demanding and energetic. She’s amazingly bright.” Vivi saw his skepticism and held up her hand. “I know, I sound like a doting mommy, but she genuinely is bright, and she has a hell of a vocabulary for her age. She must get that from you because I didn’t really start speaking until I was four.”

  Mostly because her parents subscribed to the adage that children should be seen and not heard.

  “She is just old enough to be excited about the idea of having a daddy but she’s also only two, so the novelty will wear off in about two seconds,” Vivi continued. She pushed her coffee cup away, rested her arms on the table and leaned forward. “You need to take some time to think about what your intentions are with regard to being Clem’s dad, Camden.”

  Cam’s amazing eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you can’t come roaring into her life and play at being her dad and then decide, in a few days or a few weeks, that it’s not your thing. You can’t pick her up and discard her.”