by Stacey Lynn
I spoke my apologies with a look, but we both seemed to understand Mr. Lorenz only came over to check on me. I turned back to Sal and waved him in. “Of course, come on in. I’ll be just a moment while you set up the game.”
A warm hand pressed against my hip, and David’s voice vibrated against my ear, sending shivers to all the right places. “Walk me out,” he whispered and held out a hand to Sal. “David McGregor.”
“Sal Lorenz,” he replied, shaking David’s hand. “Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.” His gaze flickered to me and back to David. “You seemed upset earlier.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. Who knew the man who had lived next to me for years would be so overprotective? “Things are good, Sal, I promise. I’ll be right back.”
As Mr. Lorenz stepped through the entryway, his gaze caught on the beer bottles left on the coffee table.
“Ah, the Weihenstephaner.” He winked at me. “Man has good taste.”
Swallowing down another laugh, I nodded and gestured for David to follow me out the door.
The door had barely shut behind us when David pushed me back against it. His lips descended slowly, his intent clear with the way his eyes locked on mine, and my breath caught.
“Did you mean it?” I asked, when his lips were almost touching mine.
“Mean what?”
“Time. Can I have time to tell you? To get to know you?”
He smiled softly, the edges of his lips tipping up into an adorable grin that made me want to erase the question I’d just asked. His hand was at my neck, his hips pressed against mine, and I felt him everywhere even though we were barely touching. “I’d like that.”
Shuffling, I looked down and cursed my awkwardness. His hand pressed against my cheek and he pulled my face up until we were eye-to-eye again. “Don’t hide from me. What is it?”
“Can we…well…can we date? Slowly?” God. How embarrassing! “I liked what we did in Jamaica, but now…I just need to back up. Move at more my speed, I guess.”
“And that’s slower?”
“Slower.”
He leaned forward again. This time, I didn’t move back. Goosebumps flared down my arms when his breath hit my ear and he whispered, “I can go slow, Camden. We can do that.”
I couldn’t hide my shiver and when he turned my face to his, his lips pressed against mine. He kissed me gently. He kissed me as if I were made of the most fragile glass. As if pressure could cause me to shatter, and when he pulled back, I was just as breathless as if he’d devoured me fiercely.
“David,” I whispered, not another thought in my mind.
“We’ll date, Camden. Friday.”
He stepped back off my front stoop and lifted a hand to wave goodbye.
“ ’Bye.”
I watched him go until he was in his Escalade, taillights disappearing at the end of my street.
Then I turned back inside. I had cribbage to play, banana bread to eat, and questions from an elderly neighbor to answer.
Chapter 19
Camden
After I got home from work, I couldn’t stop thinking about the client files I’d gone through all day long. It wasn’t that the general ledgers of our client’s companies had been handled incorrectly; money was legitimately missing.
Taken. It had been stolen, right from beneath our noses.
I had one idea who was responsible, no evidence to prove it, and a president who I knew would never hear it. I’d brought home stacks of files, paper records I’d kept of everything. I had a nasty habit of printing everything out after I’d updated the computer files. Coworkers had laughed at my paper accounting for years, but now I hoped like hell it would pay off. Otherwise, I was going to be blamed for stealing thousands of dollars from clients I’d respected for years.
Exhausted and frustrated, I had planned on skipping girls’ night out for the first time since we’d started it. It wasn’t just my job I was upset with, either. I understood David’s excuses that he’d given me earlier in the week for hiding things from me, but I hadn’t yet gotten over Trina doing the same thing. Chelsea, Suzanne, Paige, and I had been friends since college. Our tight group of four went through everything together—Suzanne’s and Paige’s weddings and marriages, Chelsea’s divorce along with her infertility struggle, and then welcoming Blue and Trina into our group when they’d come to town.
It had been seamless and easy. They belonged with us from the moment we pulled up chairs at our margarita nights and invited them to join us. We were with Trina when we learned about her abusive husband, when she was scared to stay yet felt unable move on. I’d been there for her when she struggled with her feelings for Declan, and then when she was attacked in the alley outside Fireside Grill when her husband finally found her. We held her when her evil husband died and helped her cope, helped her move forward from that. I didn’t trust easily. My trust had to be earned, but once you had it, I was loyal to the death.
Trina hadn’t earned it…I had trusted her and loved her from the moment we’d met. For one of the few times in my life, I’d simply handed over my trust and my respect and my loyalty. To know that she’d held something like the truth about David back from me, that she’d judged me for my feelings without ever truly trying to understand why I had them…
That stung like a bitch, and I wasn’t quite ready to move past it.
Tossing back margaritas with her at the table seemed to be an impossible task.
Unfortunately, I’d promised Chelsea we’d get together; and as much as I wanted to avoid Trina, I needed my friends.
Since David had left my house on Monday, we’d talked on the phone. He’d called and checked in on my day, but the conversations were short and sweet, lacking intimacy but friendly. He was moving slowly, like I’d asked.
He was building a friendship, which I’d also asked for.
The problem was every time I heard his voice and his laughter through the phone, I wanted him next to me. I wanted his arms around me and the heat of his body surrounding me while I was in my bed. I wanted his touch and his kisses.
My body wanted him while my head screamed at me to slow down.
For the first time in my life, I truly wanted to follow my instincts and desires instead of the rational part of me. David showing up, chasing me down, sharing the truth about himself, and trying to respect my wishes only made me like him more.
Being around him at Fireside Grill, watching him work behind the bar, could drive me insane. I still had one more day until our first official date, and the anticipation was already driving me crazy.
I went to my closet and debated. Wear the suit and skirt I’d worn to work and stay looking nice for girls’ night?
Or get more comfortable?
“Comfort,” I whispered, reaching around to the zipper at the back of my skirt. “Tonight is definitely for comfort.”
I kicked off my heels and stripped out of my clothes, tossing the suit into my dry-cleaning bag, and placed my heels on the shoe rack at the back of the closet. Scanning my closet, I had the sudden, overwhelming urge to dishevel every perfectly hung article of clothing. It was full of clothes, perfectly separated on hangers, all hung by season and color-coded in the order of the rainbow, with white and black at either end, perfectly arranged. What would happen if suddenly, my long sleeves were next to my short sleeves, my reds next to my purples instead of oranges? What was the worst that could happen if it took me thirty seconds longer to find a shirt or matching skirt?
Had I really become what my mom suggested? Someone so tightly closed off that I couldn’t handle any form of mess?
Had the lists and order my therapist suggested for moving on and regaining control in my life become a crutch and a curtain to hide behind instead of a coping mechanism to help me heal?
I didn’t have the time to consider it. I had even less inclination to stand in front of my closet, debating everything I’d learned during the last sixteen years.
Besides,
making a mess would mean cleaning. As much as I liked order, I despised the cleaning it took to keep it that way.
Resisting the strange urge, I grabbed a simple pair of dark gray yoga pants and a long-sleeved purple shirt and headed to the bathroom.
Once I had retouched my makeup and changed clothes, I undid the clip holding my hair back and let it fall to my waist. Crinkled with messy waves from the twist and the teeth of the clip I’d worn all day, I did nothing else to fix it except run my fingers through it and left the bathroom.
Small steps.
Hair down today…messy closet tomorrow.
Proud of myself for whatever the heck I’d just accomplished and what I was beginning to realize, I jumped when a knock hit my front door at the same time my phone in my purse began to ring.
I went to the door first and when I saw Trina through the window, I hesitated to open it.
Then I saw her phone at her ear, her eyes dark with worry as my phone continued ringing in my purse.
I wasn’t getting out of this, either.
Perhaps I’d try forgiving two people this week. Dr. Gryle would be so proud.
I unlocked and opened the door, taking Trina by surprise with the forceful pull of the door. “You want to come in?” I asked, stepping back.
There was no point in asking why she was here. Nervousness was evident in her worried eyes and the way she chewed her bottom lip. Trina was pretty, with blond hair and blue eyes, and she had a soft southern accent. I’d seen her terrified and timid. I’d seen her afraid and filled with of joy. I liked the joy more than I liked the nerves making her movements jumpy as she entered my house.
“Thanks,” she said. “I was afraid you wouldn’t let me talk to you.”
I attempted a smile and failed. For once in my life, I wasn’t going to make someone work for what I knew the person needed.
“Let me guess,” I started, and stepped back into my living room. “You feel bad because you knew David was a doctor and then you heard me say I’d never date a bartender, so instead of telling us all the truth, you decided you’d make assumptions that may or may not be true, and now you’re here to explain so I’m not mad at you.” Her eyes widened and her tanned skin paled with every word I spoke. I leaned in and grabbed her hand, and held it between us. “It’s okay, Trina. I understand. Can we let it go?”
“But—”
“I really want to make this easy on you—can you let me?”
Her smile shook and her hand in mine trembled before squeezing me tightly. “He’s a good guy, Camden. As good as Declan, and I didn’t like that you blew him off so easily.”
“I know.” I nodded. Choosing to be honest with myself, and my friends, I pushed forward despite the pain it seared in my throat to do so. “I was born to a single mom, a mom who got knocked up as a teenager and got kicked out of her house. My dad took off only days after I was born, and from then on, my mom struggled every single waking moment trying to provide a life for me. I have a lot of issues, a lot of drama that follows me, and I took that out on David.”
Her eyes grew wet with unshed tears. I hated seeing them. I knew the drama Trina had recovered from. I knew the problems she’d had in her life and they were so much more recent than mine.
My eyes matched hers, and she went blurry before me. “How do you do it, Trina? How do you stay so strong?”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I’m not strong, Camden. I lean on people when I need to and they hold me up. It gets me through another day.”
Squeezing my eyes closed, I blocked out the pain her words caused me. “I need security. I have to have it. It doesn’t have to do with the size of a man’s wallet, Trina—I swear it. And besides”—I winked, my vision beginning to clear— “I hear David’s loaded anyway.”
Her eyes jumped open in surprise before a bark of laughter escaped her. “Yeah…Declan told me.”
“Come here,” I said and pulled her toward me. I wrapped my arms around her and whispered, “I’m trying to get over my past, and it’s not pretty and it’s not easy. I’m going to need all the friends I’ve got to help me.”
“You’ve got me.” She pulled back and smiled, holding up her keys and shaking them. “You’ve also got a ride to Fireside if you want it.”
Chapter 20
David
Coming clean to Camden the other night hadn’t exactly been the cleansing experience I was hoping it would be. It wasn’t easy to bare everything to her, knowing she was holding back from me. She pushed me to open up and yet hid herself. The dichotomy was as frustrating as it was enticing. I was drawn to her because I knew that, in a way, we were similar. I was also drawn to her because when I got close, I couldn’t withstand the lure of her silky, auburn hair and her creamy, pale skin, and her delicious scent that always smelled soft and sexy.
I went to Aidan first, choosing not to throw my shit at the guys I’d known since college all at once.
If fists were thrown because they were pissed at me, I could take them one-on-one, with the exception of Declan. No one could handle that beast. I figured Aidan would be the hardest, though, like ripping a Band-Aid off the hairiest parts of your body.
His son, Derrick, had died only six months ago. We talked about him infrequently, mostly because the pain was still too fresh for all of us.
The first time I saw Aidan, I was throwing a football around with Declan and Tyson. Sorority girls were at our feet, sunning themselves on blankets. Music blared from nearby speakers, and on a Friday afternoon, it seemed like barely any of the students were actually headed to class.
Then there’d been Aidan. Backpack draped over his shoulders, diaper bag slung over the handles of a stroller as he pushed his son through the middle of campus, looking at us with a longing so deep I felt it in my gut.
That night, the four of us had hung out at his place in family housing, ordered pizza, drunk a few beers, and for the first time in my life, I learned how to change a diaper.
We were inseparable after that. Through all of it, all the years, and helping him raise Derrick, I’d never seen Aidan look at me like I was the biggest pile of shit he’d ever stepped on, the way he was doing now.
Over a couple of beers and burgers, I told Aidan everything I’d told Camden the night before and when I was done, he lowered his beer to the table between us. “You’re an asshole—you know that, right?”
I resisted the childish urge to proclaim it takes one to know one. “Yeah, I know.”
“Derrick would hate that, David. He’d hate thinking that you blamed yourself for something out of your control. Even you admit that it was a long shot you could have saved her. How do you know, had you been on your game one thousand percent like always, that you wouldn’t have still lost that patient?”
“I don’t know,” I snapped, the anger of that night still igniting in my veins. “That’s the problem. I don’t know, and I can’t know.”
I hated the way he looked at me. Despised the pity in his eyes, the grief still evident so many months later. “Shoulda-coulda-wouldas will kill you.” He pulled his gaze from mine and settled it behind my shoulder. I knew where he was looking. The laughter had started getting louder, which meant Camden and Chelsea and the rest of the girls minus Blue, who was still on her honeymoon, had just ordered margarita pitcher number two.
I saw the way merely looking at Chelsea affected him, softened him and lightened the grief that still clung so heavily to him.
My best friend had lost his son. I’d lost a patient. To blame my distraction on Derrick’s death was guilt none of us needed.
“Aidan.” He turned to me, flinching as if surprised he wasn’t alone. “I’m sorry. Sorry I hung on to this bullshit for so long and didn’t come to you. It was so soon, and we were all worried about you—”
“Yeah.” He grabbed his bottle and brought it to his mouth. “But we were worried about you, too. And while I might not have been in the right mindset to listen or help or give a shit then, we�
��ve all always stood by each other. Remember that next time you think about being a massive dick.”
He slid out of the booth and stood, clamping his hand down on my shoulder, and shook me. “Word of advice?”
I twisted and looked up, stunned by the seriousness of his expression. “Of course.”
“Life is fucking short,” he said, leaning down and lowering his voice. “Do whatever the hell you want, as long as it makes you happy. Enjoy every moment. Derrick, if anything, has to have taught us that. Take the boards in Michigan and practice medicine again, sling drinks behind the bar, or go take over the legacy you were supposed to years ago. Who gives a shit what it is…just figure it out and do it.”
The familiar burn started in my throat and traveled to the backs of my eyes. He kept our gazes locked until I nodded.
“Of course. I get it.”
“Good.”
“I should go talk to Declan.”
Another round of laughter pulled my attention from the doors leading to the kitchen and Declan working furiously behind it. “Deal with the rest of the guys later. Declan’s busy,” Aidan said, smiling at Chelsea. Her head thrown back in laughter, Camden was next to her, shaking her shoulder gently. Her hair was down, untied and rippling as she shook her friend.
With her large, easy smile, she’d never looked more beautiful.
“Right. Later,” I muttered, unable to take my eyes off her. As if she sensed my presence, she turned and looked my way. Smiling softly, she blinked, and pink bloomed on her cheeks.
The innocence of her expression shot to my groin, where my jeans grew tight.
I’d promised her I’d go slow. I’d give it a week.
Aidan’s voice snapped me back to the present. “I’m getting another drink at the bar and then crashing their girls’ night out. Wanna join me?”
Sit with Camden on one of the few nights she loses control and lets loose while she slings back tequila?
I grinned and stood up. “Hell yeah, I do.”
—
She fell against my chest, laughing as we said goodbye to Suzanne and Paige at the curb. Suzanne’s belly seemed to grow larger every day and now that she was seven months pregnant, she had a nice waddle to her step. It had made Camden’s giggle turn to full-on belly laughter as Suzanne took longer than normal to get into her car.