That Night in Texas

by Joss Wood

  Vivi rubbed the back of her neck. “Look, if you want to walk away, pretend this never happened, I’m okay with that. I’m not going to ask you for child support or anything like that.”

  Cam didn’t speak. He just listened, his eyes locked on hers. Vivi touched the top of her lip with her tongue and forced herself to continue. This was difficult, but it needed to be said. Her little girl’s heart was more important to her than her own.

  “However, if you do decide you want to get to know her, we can arrange supervised visits. If those visits work out, I might then be open to allowing you time with her on your own. We’ll have to see how it goes.”

  “Good of you,” Cam said, his voice bland.

  She didn’t care if he was feeling insulted or annoyed; she had to do this. Vivi glanced at the clock on her wall, conscious of the hour. “Okay, it’s time for us to leave.”

  She pushed her chair back and stood up. Knowing that it was always a good idea to step back, consider the options, she looked at Cam.

  “I’m not going to tell Clem that you are her dad, not yet. Spend some time with her and then decide. But you should know that if you make a promise to her, or to me about her, you will follow through. I will make sure of it.”

  He looked a little amused at the thought of her pushing him around but he’d yet to realize that when it came to Clem, there wasn’t a mountain she wouldn’t climb, a creature she wouldn’t fight, a country she’d not invade. She was more than a momma bear, she was the whole damn pack.

  Point made, Vivi thought, turning away. But as she was about to step out of the kitchen, he felt Cam’s gentle hand gripping her elbow. Don’t turn around, Viv, because if you do, you know exactly what’s going to happen.

  She turned anyway and got a hit of blue, the suggestion of amusement and the curve of a mouth before his lips covered hers. He tasted like before, like a wonderful memory, but also like someone new, a deeper and darker and more intense version of the man he used to be. And God, he felt hard and tough and solid. She didn’t mean to lean into him but he easily accepted her weight, his one arm banding around her back in a hold that was both strong and reassuring. His other hand held her jaw, his fingers tracing the outline of her ear just as gently as his lips were exploring hers. It was a tender kiss, one she didn’t expect, a “hello, it’s nice to taste you again” kiss. But it wasn’t enough. She didn’t need gentle from Cam, or tender. She needed hot and hard and fast. She needed him to remind her that she was alive, that she was breathing, that she was young and...here, dammit.

  Vivi grabbed his hips and pushed her breasts into his hard pecs, dragging her nipples across his chest. She opened her mouth and pushed her tongue past his teeth, needing to taste him, to explore and delve, to dip and dive. Heat and lust ricocheted through her and she felt her knees crumble, her bones melt. She was alive, she was kissing a sexy man, she was safe...

  Vivi was unaware of tears rolling down her cheeks until Cam eased away from her and he wiped them away with his thumbs. He placed gentle kisses on the side of her mouth, her cheekbones, her temple, her forehead. “It’s okay, Viv, you’re safe. It’s all good.”

  Oh, God. Vivi closed her eyes as Cam rested his head on her temple, his strong arms cuddling her close. He felt amazing and she hated the fact that she missed this...this thing she’d never had. Not him, precisely, but what he represented: strength, support, someone in her corner.

  But while it was nice, it wasn’t something she could get used to, so Vivi tossed her head, stepped back and put a smile on her face and waved her hand in front of her face. “Sorry, delayed reaction to nearly dying.”

  “Understandable.” Then Cam had the audacity to look amused. “But it could also be because you and I could still start a wildfire with the sparks we generate.”

  She was not going to encourage him, to respond to his sexy but smirky smile. “I nearly died. That’s the only reason I kissed you.”

  Cam dropped his head and Vivi held her breath, waiting for his lips to meet hers again. She tipped her chin up and closed her eyes. Instead of his lips meeting hers, he murmured “BS” against her lips. Vivi jerked back and had to resist the urge to smack the smile off those sexy lips!

  Gah!

  And why was she still standing here, flip-flopping between smacking him senseless and kissing him stupid?

  * * *

  Cam pulled up to another house ten minutes from Vivi’s and leaned across Vivi to open her door. His arm brushed her breast and he heard her intake of breath. Knowing that he couldn’t look at her—if he did, he would crush his mouth to hers and nobody would be getting out of the car anytime soon—he pushed the door open and pulled back. She smelled incredible, of soap and shampoo and a scent that exuded her personality—forthright and clean, with a hint of spice.

  Vivi released her seat belt and placed her hand on the door. She turned to face him, her eyes worried. “Maybe you should wait here. Charlie is a good friend, but I don’t know if I’m up to explaining you just yet.”

  “If you had to, how would you explain me?”

  Vivi released a laugh that was short on amusement. “I’d introduce you as the guy who seems to flip my world every time I run into him.”

  It was as good an explanation as any.

  Cam watched Vivi walk up the path to the front door, hands in the back pockets of her cutoff denims. God, she was a spectacular-looking woman, but not in the rich-and-pampered way of the women he normally dated. Vivi was... What was the word he was looking for? She was real. Her hair was the same color it had been three years ago, a light brown with natural highlights. Her face was unpainted, those eyes lightening and darkening according to her mood. She was thinner than she’d been before, but all her curves were still there. And those legs, the ones that had gripped his hips as he slid into her, were still as jaw-droppingly shapely as ever.

  His attraction to her burned brighter and hotter than before. Three years ago, he’d liked her—obviously. She’d been fun, a way to pass a couple of hours, a human connection. But this woman, the mother of the child he’d never known he had, well, she intrigued him. She’d just shared a little of her past, and he realized that there was a lot more to her story than she’d told him. Rising up through the ranks of a restaurant like The Rollin’ Smoke wasn’t something that happened on a routine basis, so she had to have talent as a chef as well as business savvy. And the fact that she’d had this meteoric career rise while raising a child floored him.

  His phone buzzed. Cam looked at his display and hit the button to answer.

  “Camden.”

  He smiled as Ryder Currin’s deep voice rolled through his car. Ryder, who was a curious combination of big brother, favorite uncle and best friend, was one of the very few people Cam allowed to call him by his full name.

  If Cam did everything he could to be unlike his dad or grandfather or any of his useless male ancestors, then Ryder Currin was the man he did try to emulate. Ryder was tough but fair, strong with a solid sense of community. Like Cam, he’d pulled himself up all by himself, for himself, and was now the majority shareholder in Currin Oil, his massive company headquartered in downtown Houston.

  Ryder was also how Cam had gotten his start. Cam had heard of a small company needing $50,000 to stake a claim on a piece of land they were convinced held natural gas. Convinced they were on the right track, he had been prepared to risk his savings to invest but didn’t have the entire amount. Or even half that. Taking a chance, he’d approached his then boss Ryder Currin, who had loaned him the money, asking very few questions. Three months later, the company had announced that they’d found one of biggest natural gas deposits in the country, and the find blew up their bank accounts. Well, maybe not Ryder’s, who was already rich, but Cam’s had certainly detonated.

  Without that loan, Cam would not be living in River Oaks, driving a fancy car or operating a billion-dollar company. He o
wed Ryder: for his no-questions-asked faith in him, his continued friendship and for the ear he continued to provide.

  “Any news on your missing kid?” Ryder asked.

  God, he’d forgotten about Rick Gaines. But that was understandable, since the mother of his child had nearly died when her car ended up in a fast-flowing ditch and he’d discovered he had a daughter.

  “Hold on a sec,” Cam told Ryder and quickly accessed his messaging app. Scanning his messages, he found the one he was looking for and released a long sigh. Rick was found at a shelter and Cam passed the news along to Ryder.

  “Talking about the missing, has the body at the TCC construction site been identified yet?”

  “No. And Sterling Perry isn’t talking, and neither are his people.” Ryder remained quiet for a few moments before continuing. “By the way, Perry has called an emergency meeting of the TCC.”

  “Can he do that? The club isn’t official yet—it hasn’t been constituted. There haven’t been any elections of officials, and a board hasn’t been chosen. Have I missed something?”

  “You missed nothing,” Ryder growled, obviously pissed. “I am furious that Perry pulled rank and called this meeting. And to make his boardroom the venue? That’s unacceptable.”

  Cam knew a little of Ryder’s history with Sterling Perry. Ryder had worked for Perry, who’d fired him for no cause. There were rumors that Ryder had an affair with Perry’s wife, but Cam didn’t believe that. Ryder wasn’t the type to poach on another man’s territory. What Cam knew for sure was that Ryder was left an oil-rich piece of land by Sterling’s father-in-law and had built his massive empire on the oil he found on that land. Sterling, it was reported, had blown a gasket.

  “So, are you going?” Cam asked. In the back of his mind he recalled an email about a TCC meeting but with the latest upheavals in his life—a daughter and her sexy, mind-blowing mother—TCC business had fallen way down on his list of priorities.

  “I have no damn choice!” Ryder snapped back. “Everyone is going and I cannot afford to look petty. Especially since a representative from the state board of the TCC will be there.”

  “Must I be there to hold your hand?” Cam teased and grinned at Ryder’s responding growl and muttered obscenity.

  “I’m heading over there right now to give Sterling Perry a come-to-Jesus talk. In fact, I’m just pulling up to Perry Holdings now.”

  Crap. This wasn’t going to end well. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  “Probably not,” Ryder retorted. “But it will make me feel a lot better.”

  “Life is...complicated at the moment but I’ll be at the meeting.”

  Ryder’s voice dropped. “Are you okay, Cam?”

  Cam hadn’t intended to tell him, wasn’t going to until the words flew out of his mouth. “I will be if you can tell me how to deal with having a baby daughter I never knew drop into my life. And how I should handle being reunited with a woman I’ve never quite forgotten.”

  Ryder chuckled. “Holy crap, Camden. That’s huge. And, on one level, hilarious.”

  Except it really wasn’t. It was his damn life.

  * * *

  “Angela?”

  At the soft rap on her open office door, Angela Perry looked up to see Perry Holdings’ receptionist standing in the doorway to her office. Pulling her attention from the report she’d been trying to digest, she waited for Andrea to speak.

  “Ryder Currin is here, wanting to talk to your father.”

  Angela cursed as her heart took flight at the sound of Ryder’s name. Ridiculous, really. “My father is out of town.”

  “I told him that but then he said he was sure you could take a message.”

  Angela rolled her eyes. This had to be about the meeting her father had, rather high-handedly in her opinion, called, inviting TCC Houston members. Or potential members. Her father really had to stop acting like he was president of the world. So, in fact, did Ryder Currin.

  Too many men, Angela thought, standing up. Not enough aspirin.

  The public area at Perry Holdings was a room full of men, and a few women, but Angela immediately found Ryder Currin. It was as if she held the receiver to a homing device pinned to his shirt. Angela looked down at her blue-and-white-striped dress and wondered if the tangerine jacket was too much. Irritated with herself—she always second-guessed her outfits because she wasn’t quite as stylish as her twin, Miranda, nor as flashy as her best friend, Tatiana—she cursed her slightly damp palms and her accelerated heart rate. She was a shade off forty, dammit, a grown woman. Surely she shouldn’t be feeling fluttery when she laid eyes on him.

  “Mr. Currin, this way, please,” Angela stated, happy to hear her voice sounded normal.

  Ryder half smiled as his big stride ate up the space between them and Angela wished that she could step into his arms, lift her mouth for a kiss. She wanted this man, craved him with a passion that would make her father pop a vein.

  “Can I help you?” Angela said, holding her hand out for him to shake. Ryder surprised her when he took her hand and dropped a kiss on her cheek. She inhaled his soap-and-sex scent and her head swam.

  Perfect.

  Ryder pulled her into the quieter hallway and his big hand cupped the side of her jaw. “I wanted to talk to Sterling but thought I’d also check in on you. We had a pretty intense conversation about the past when we were together at the shelter.”

  Yeah, that conversation. The one where he told her that, contrary to what she’d always believed, he and her mother had never been anything but friends. Angela still wasn’t sure whether she believed him or not. Oh, God, she wanted to, but a niggle of doubt remained. Okay, maybe more than a niggle.

  “Why are you here, Ryder?” Angela asked, stepping back. “Oh, right, you want me to deliver a message to my father.”

  Ryder shook his head. “I’m more than capable of delivering my own messages to Sterling.” He lifted a big shoulder and Angela wondered how his skin would feel, whether he’d taste as gorgeous as he looked. Down, girl.

  “I just wanted to see you.”

  “There are these amazing things called phones and email.” Angela pointed out, annoyed to hear that she was sounding breathless.

  “Yeah, but that way I can’t see you, smell you—” his voice turned rough, sexier “—kiss you.”

  Later she’d wonder what propelled her to act so out of character, to step up to him, to place her hands on his rough-with-stubble jaw and stand on her tiptoes to align her mouth with his. She felt his hands tighten on her biceps, and then his lips were under hers. Heat, lust and need shimmied over her and her tongue slipped between his open lips and into his mouth. God, he tasted like chocolate-covered sin. How had she lived for so long without kissing Ryder Currin?

  She felt his hesitation, heard his silent “to hell with it” and then he took control of their kiss. His strong arm wound around her waist, pulling her up against his chest—and it was as hard as she’d imagined. He kissed her with assurance and confidence, like he knew exactly what she needed and how to give it to her. Angela teetered on her high heels but Ryder just tightened his grip on her.

  “I’ve got you,” he murmured against her open mouth. He hesitated, shrugged and dipped down again, and dialed the kiss up to hot and then to insane.

  “Oops!”

  Angela heard the feminine giggle and the masculine snort of laughter and yanked her mouth off Ryder’s. She rested her forehead on his collarbone and tried to get her breathing under control. Dammit. The news that she’d kissed Ryder Currin—if such a tame word could be used to describe what they’d just done—would be all over the building in five minutes flat. God, she prayed that no one had the balls to tell her father.

  Ryder’s big hand skimmed down her back and rested on her hip. “I should go.”

  Angela nodded but didn’t move. “Yeah.”
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  Ryder’s hand moved up and under her hair and he gripped the back of her neck. “This attraction between us is so damn unexpected.”

  Yeah. Unexpected and inconvenient. And messy. And liable to blow up in their faces.

  But, Angela decided as she watched Ryder walk away from her, it was also the most excitement she’d had in forever.

  * * *

  TCC business and Ryder forgotten as he sat in his car, Cam banged his head against the headrest. He was attracted to Vivi’s face and body, but he was also intrigued by her resilience, her strong spirit and her innate intelligence. Physical attraction was easy to ignore; mental attraction was hugely problematic. He didn’t want to become emotionally entangled with Vivi. He couldn’t afford the distraction. He needed to focus on his company, his career, on becoming the success he wanted to be.

  You are already successful, he heard Ryder’s voice say in his head. How much money is enough? When are you going to be satisfied with how far you’ve come and finally be proud of your achievements?

  Cam didn’t know. He just knew that he wasn’t there yet.

  He closed his eyes, remembering his father tossing out his newest plan, his latest scheme to make money. None were legal, and none made money. Jack had no qualms about ripping off an elderly lady of her savings, stealing the social security checks of unemployed mothers and forging their signatures. Breaking into houses with his son to scoop up anything that he could flip for a profit.

  Yet, despite their many scores, their standard of living had never changed. They still bounced from crappy apartments to squats to rented rooms; Cam still wore clothes that were too small and was constantly expected to miss school to pick pockets so he could feed himself and his father.

  Would life have been better if his mother had stuck around? From what he’d heard about her, probably not. Fantastic genes he’d passed on to Clementine.

  Cam gripped the steering wheel to anchor himself. How could he ever tell Vivi, and eventually Clementine, that his parents lived on the fringes of society, that they’d been criminals and cons? God, he should drive away, stay out of their lives.