by Joss Wood
“No, Clem, you’re going to stay with me today.”
Clem smiled and Vivi saw her dimple, the flash of mischief in her smile. Her daughter was going to be a handful when she was older and Vivi was going to have to become a lot smarter. But not today. Today she just wanted to go back to sleep. But she couldn’t. She was a single mom and single moms couldn’t take the day off.
“I heard there was a little girl in the house. I wonder if she likes pancakes.”
Vivi frowned at the lilting Irish brogue and her eyes darted to Cam’s, silently asking for an explanation. Having Cam see her sleepy, mussed and rumpled was one thing. Meeting a total stranger in one of Cam’s T-shirts and with messy hair was not going to happen. She turned over to sit up and released a sharp hiss as her muscles protested, volubly reminding her that she’d tangled with a ravine and water and nearly lost.
“That’s my housekeeper, Sally. She loves kids and she makes the best pancakes ever.” Cam held out his hand to Clem and Clem immediately ran to him, sliding her hand into his, apparently without a second thought. They stepped into the hallway and Vivi listened as Cam introduced Clem to his housekeeper.
“You don’t look like a girl who likes pancakes.” Sally said.
“I does, I like them lots!” Clem immediately responded.
“How many can you eat?” Sally asked and Vivi liked the way she spoke to Clem.
“A hundred!” Clem proclaimed. Vivi rolled her eyes at her daughter’s pronouncement. A hundred seemed like a good number to a two-year-old.
“Well, I’ve never made a hundred before but I’ll be willing to give it a try. But I might need some help.”
“I’s can help!” Clem piped up.
“I’m sure you can. Let’s go, then.”
Clem ran back into the room and up to Vivi’s bed, repeating the entire conversation word for word and ending with a rushed request for permission to go with Sally. Vivi looked toward Cam, who stood with his shoulder pressed into the door frame. He nodded his head, mouthing that Clem would be fine, and Vivi gave her consent. Clem ran out of the room again and Vivi heard her peppering Sally with questions as they moved down the hallway. Vivi fought the urge to call her back. Sally was a stranger. How could she let Clem go off with someone she hadn’t vetted?
“Clem will be fine, Viv.”
How did Cam know that she was worried? Had her expression said all that? If so, she really had to get her face under control. She could not allow Cam to discern how ridiculously attracted she was to him.
Vivi pulled her gaze off his tall frame, his messy hair. He was dressed in cargo shorts and a sleeveless shirt showing off his broad shoulders, big biceps and his smooth, golden skin. An overnight scruff covered his jaw and he wore flip-flops on his surprisingly elegant feet. She wanted to take a big bite out of him and then soothe the pain away with a long lick.
Vivi dropped her head back onto the pillow and placed her forearm against her eyes. Oh, God, she was in so much trouble.
Vivi felt the bed shift and inhaled Cam’s fresh-from-the-shower scent, the heat from his body sliding over her. She felt his thigh against her hip and then his fingers gently pulled her arm from her face. Vivi reluctantly opened her eyes.
“Hello,” Cam said, humor in his ridiculously pretty eyes.
Vivi felt her nipples puckering against her T-shirt—his T-shirt—and she licked her lips, noticing there was no moisture left in her mouth. He was too close, and this setting—a beautifully decorated bedroom containing a huge bed—was too intimate. She needed distance to regain some control. She couldn’t, wouldn’t let Camden affect her like this again.
Then Cam’s mouth touched hers and she knew it was too late. He did affect her, in every way. Her lips opened to his tongue, her back arched so that her nipple could find his hand and her legs fell open. She was putty in his hands, a morning mess of melted glue.
Unable to help herself, Vivi linked her arms around his neck, sighing as his thumb brushed her nipple, smiling when he yanked her shirt from under her butt so that his hand could find her skin. He brushed her hip, stopped when he realized that she wasn’t wearing any panties and then carried on, his fingers skimming over her stomach and rib cage. As his tongue swirled around hers, sipping and sucking and rediscovering her, his hand found her breasts, giving both his attention.
Vivi allowed her hands to roam, exploring the hard muscles of his back, the width of those impressive shoulders, the taut muscles in his arms. He was so powerful, utterly and fundamentally masculine. Ignoring her aching body, Vivi wiggled closer, needing to have every inch of her body plastered against his.
Preferably naked and preferably immediately.
Cam wound his arm around her waist to haul her in and Vivi couldn’t help the whimper of pain when his hand connected with a bruise on her back. Cam cursed and immediately lowered her to the bed. When he pulled back, Vivi saw the concern in his eyes and knew that the spell was broken.
Dammit.
Cam tugged her forward, pulled her shirt up her back and knelt on the bed to look over her shoulder. His mouth thinned and his eyes cooled; he looked thoroughly, utterly pissed off. Why?
Feeling self-conscious, Vivi pulled the shirt under her butt and the covers up to her waist. She pushed a hand through her messy hair and looked at a point past Cam’s shoulder. They shouldn’t be making out. That was part of their past, and it couldn’t be part of her future. There couldn’t, shouldn’t be anything more between them but Clem, but desire—hot, fast and insistent—kept popping up and making its irritating presence known.
“You have a bruise the size of a dinner plate on your lower back and another on your shoulder blade,” Cam said, his voice laced with frustration. That was when she realized that he wasn’t pissed off at her but for her. He wasn’t happy that she was hurt. And his obvious concern ignited a small fire in her stomach. When had anyone last cared how she was, how she felt? God, she couldn’t remember. When she was a young teenager? A child? Maybe not even then. She was her mother’s showpiece, her pet, her sense of self-worth. The one object Margaret Donner had control over.
“Any other bruises?”
Vivi thought about brushing his question off but quickly realized that if she didn’t give Cam an answer that satisfied him—i.e. the truth—he’d pull up her shirt and find out for himself. Any other man would get a black eye if they were to be so bold. Cam, on the other hand, might just get lucky. Dammit.
Vivi pursed her lips before replying. “Top of my right thigh and on my knee.”
Cam pulled back the covers and pushed up her shirt, whistling when he saw the livid purple and black bruises. His fingers brushed over her injuries, his touch too light to cause any pain, and his eyes met hers. “Sorry, honey.”
Vivi shrugged. “I’m a bit stiff and a lot sore but I’ll live.”
Cam brushed his thumb over her cheekbone before his fingers picked up a loose curl and tucked it behind her ear. The gesture was so sweet and tender, so at odds with his big hands and hard-ass attitude, that Vivi felt the sting of tears. Tenderness was such a foreign emotion.
“I’ll bring up some pancakes and a dose of painkillers,” Cam told her, his tone telling her that he’d not entertain any arguments. “Then you can get some more sleep.”
“I need to be with Clem.”
Cam looked past her to the window, his expression tight and guarded. When he met her eyes again, his held a range of emotions she couldn’t identify. “I know we haven’t spent enough time together for you to trust me, Vivi, but I wish you would. Please believe that I would never, ever let anything happen to Clem. I might only know her for a day but she’s my daughter, my responsibility.”
“Cam, I don’t trust easily.” Or at all. And she never, ever let anyone take control. Of her or her daughter.
“I’m asking you to trust me for a few hours. We’ll stay in the house.
And if we do go outside, we’ll keep in shouting distance of the house. I just want to give you a chance to rest, to heal.” His mouth quirked up into a smile that she found hard to resist. “And I’d like to get to know my daughter.”
She was tired and sore, and she’d love to go back to sleep. Could she release the reins for a couple of hours and allow Cam this time? Vivi stared down at her clenched hands, taking some time to think. By making Cam her emergency contact person she’d created this situation. Cam was now part of Clem’s life. She’d have to let them spend time together at some point, and if she wanted Cam to be a good father to Clem, that meant allowing them to spend time together alone. At some point she’d have to trust Cam. Why couldn’t she start now? An experienced child-sitter was in the house if Cam ran into difficulties with Clem, and Vivi would be just a shout away. What could go wrong?
Nothing except that Clem might fall in love with Cam and she might fall in lust with Cam—oops, too late on that one—and the whole situation could blow up in her face.
God, she was so damn tired and so damn sore. She just wanted a few hours...
“Okay. Except that I will take the painkillers and skip the pancakes.”
Vivi saw the relief in Cam’s eyes and underneath, the determination. “Nope, you’ll put a hole in your stomach if you take the meds like that. Pancakes, coffee and a full glass of water and then you can have the drugs.”
He stood up and Vivi tipped her head up to scowl at him. “Did anyone ever tell you that you are as bossy as hell?”
Cam smiled down at her and her stomach flipped over once and then, because it could, did it again. “All the time.” He dropped his head and brushed his lips across hers in a slow, gentle, supremely sexy kiss. When he lifted his mouth, he smiled at her. “Then again, like recognizes like, sweetheart.”
* * *
Not so far away, Angela Perry heard the front door to her apartment opening and started a mental countdown.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
“You kissed Ryder Currin? In the hallway? At work?”
Angela lowered the bottle of water she’d been guzzling and arched her eyebrows at her best friend who’d just made liberal use of her just-for-emergencies key. Tatiana Havery was perfectly made up and immaculately dressed for eight thirty on a Saturday morning. Angela, makeup free and perspiring from a five-mile run, felt grubby and gross. “I’m going to shower. Can we discuss this later?”
Tatiana wrinkled her nose and waved her hand at her damp clothing. “Your shower can wait until we are done discussing the ludicrous rumor I’m hearing about you kissing the very hot Ryder Currin!”
The word “kiss” was too tame a word for what had happened yesterday. Inhaled? Devoured? Scarfed? Any might work but she certainly had not simply kissed Ryder.
“Why do you assume it’s a rumor?” Angela asked, a little pissed because Tee made it sound like Ryder was so out of her league. “I did kiss him and it was amazing.”
Tatiana’s mouth fell open. “You did not!”
Angela couldn’t help her small smirk. “I so did.” The smirk morphed into a self-satisfied grin. “And it was freakin’ amazing.”
Tatiana lifted her eyebrows. “I can see that it was. Lucky you.” Then a second later, “Or unlucky you.”
Angela frowned at her friend. “And what do you mean by that?”
“Part of the job of being your best friend, honey, is keeping your feet firmly on the ground. So I’m reminding you that the man you just locked lips with allegedly had an affair with your mom. And there’s also a chance that he blackmailed your grandfather into giving him land.”
Tee’s caustic statement blew away her warm and fuzzies. Dammit, she’d forgotten. How could she? But Ryder had told her that there was nothing more between her mom and him than friendship, and she believed him.
Didn’t she?
“He explained that they were just friends.”
“But you can’t be sure, can you?”
She couldn’t, dammit. She only had the word of a man she’d been taught not to trust.
“You know what your dad always says, Ange. Trust but verify.”
“And who can I ask about the past who doesn’t, to quote Dad again, have skin in the game?”
Tatiana considered her question. “Why don’t you go back up to the ranch, find someone who has worked on the ranch, in the house, for a long time and ask what they remember? Servants know everything and someone will know if anything happened between your mom and Ryder.”
It wasn’t a bad suggestion, but Angela wondered whether it was worth the effort. “The thing is, Tee, I really do believe Ryder. While we haven’t had much time to discuss the details, my gut tells me that he’s telling the truth about the past.”
But what if she was wrong? What if she simply wanted to believe Ryder? Was her desire for him confusing the issue?
“What should I do, Tee?”
Tatiana waited a beat before responding. “Like I said, go to the ranch and ask some hard questions. Because if something does develop between you and Ryder, you’ll will always have this cloud of doubt hanging over you. Rather get it sorted now before you are in too deep.”
It was sound advice, even if it was delivered in Tee’s normal shoot-from-the-hip manner. Unfortunately, it was advice Angela really didn’t want to hear. Or take.
* * *
Much later that Saturday, when Cam finally heard footsteps in the hall, it took all his willpower not to bound to his feet like a lovestruck puppy. It didn’t matter that his heart was suddenly revving in the red zone or that his mouth was as dry as the Mojave Desert. He was a grown man—he should know better. Cam kept his eyes on the screen of his laptop and waited until he heard Vivi clear her throat before he slowly raised his head to look at her.
And instantly felt the sharp punch to his heart.
With her makeup-free face and hair pulled back, she looked like the young woman he’d seduced all those years ago. He’d sent Sally out to purchase some clothes for Vivi and Clem, and the denim shorts she’d bought made Vivi’s legs look endless. The T-shirt boldly proclaiming “We the people like to party” skimmed her high breasts and her subtle curves. She was sunshine after a brutal storm, hot chocolate after shoveling snow, a breath of fresh air in an empty house.
She was both lightning and soft rain, strength and fragility, more beautiful than he remembered and more terrifying than he could’ve imagined.
God, he was in so much trouble. “Neck-deep, bleeding and swimming with alligators” kind of trouble.
Vivi pushed her hands into her back pockets and rocked on her bare feet. Sexy bare feet tipped with pale pink nails. “Hi. Where’s Clem?”
It took Cam a moment to understand her question. Clem? Right, her—his, their—daughter. “Uh, we gave her a sandwich and some juice, and she fell asleep while watching Peppa Pig. She’s in the media room, two doors down.”
Vivi frowned and stepped into his office and up to his desk, allowing her fingers to trail over the edge of his antique walnut desk. “I don’t let her have a lot of TV time...for future reference.”
“You don’t?” Cam asked, surprised. “Why not?”
“I prefer for her to do puzzles or to look through a picture book. Too much TV numbs the brain,” Vivi replied, sounding defensive.
Cam saw her mental retreat and silently cursed. “That wasn’t criticism, Vivi, just a need to understand.” He glanced down at the screen, wondering how to frame his next sentence, wondering if he should even verbalize his thoughts. But they needed to be said, and he needed to say them. “I spent the morning with Clem and she’s...”
He should never have hesitated because it gave Vivi the chance to clench her fists and for fire to jump into her eyes. “Be careful what you say next, McNeal. I don’t give a damn what you thi
nk about me, but don’t you dare criticize my daughter.”
Cam frowned, appalled that she would instinctively assume that he was about to pass judgment on her. He slowly stood up and folded his arms, wondering who had made this strong, vibrant woman assume that she’d be the victim of harsh criticism.
“I was going to say that I think Clem is a bright, happy child with a sharp mind and an extensive vocabulary. She’s funny and interesting and sweet.”
He would’ve been amused at her shocked expression if he hadn’t been so angry on her behalf. Why did she expect reproof instead of praise? Why did she immediately brace herself for bad news?
“Judging by that amazing human tornado asleep on my couch, you must be an incredible mother,” Cam said, holding her gaze and hoping she’d see that he meant every damn word. And more.
Vivi searched his face for any hint that he was lying, and when she finally seemed to accept that he wasn’t, her shoulders fell and her cheeks flushed. He thought he saw a hint of tears in her brown eyes but she lowered her head too quickly. When she replied, her voice was husky with emotion.
“Thank you. But she makes it easy. She really is an incredible child.” Vivi took a little time to lift her head, and when she did, her expression was inscrutable.
“I need you to know that I spent a lot of time thinking about how to tell you about her. About whether to tell you about her,” she finally said.
A part of him wanted to be angry at her, to rail at her for denying him Clem’s first months and years, but another part of him, a bigger part, wanted to understand her hesitation.
“I did some research on you and everything I read led me to believe that you wouldn’t be interested in being tied down, in having a child.”
Really, that was her excuse? She was a terrible liar. “You are old enough to know that you shouldn’t believe everything that is written in the press, Vivianne.”
Vivi wrinkled her nose and drew patterns on the Persian carpet with her toes.