by Stacey Lynn
“You’re insane,” I muttered, finally finding my voice. “I can’t believe you. I can’t believe you’d do this to me. That I wouldn’t have notice and been able to prepare myself and, oh my God, I can’t breathe.”
My hand pressed to my chest as panic overwhelmed me. I staggered back, unsteady on my heels, all the while he held onto my hips, moving with me until his body pressed against mine.
“Calm down,” he whispered, his smile still showing me a whole lot of bright, white teeth. “You said you’re tired of being judged and having life be hard. Trust me, those messed-up people in there will be the least judgmental people you’ve ever met, and all they’ll give us tonight is easy. And…” His face scrunched up in an adorable way. The urge to smack him began to evaporate. “Who knows? You might even get to see some embarrassing photos of me, or hear stories.”
“Do embarrassing photos of you even exist?”
“If they do, Lindsay knows exactly where to find them. But I’m warning you now, I wasn’t always the charming, sexy stud you see standing here in front of you.”
I got lost in the moment. Lost in the feel of him against me with his winning smile and disarming gaze. My shoulders relaxed, and for the first time since I’d walked away from him this morning before heading to work, I smiled.
“You’re crazy,” I whispered.
“And I’m learning you go a bit neurotic when you get freaked.” He winked and tapped my nose, making me squirm. “But I’m also learning that, like everything else about you, I like it.”
He backed up and grabbed my hand, tugging me toward the front door of his castle.
“I still can’t believe this is your house.”
“My mom’s, not mine.”
“Yeah, but you grew up here, didn’t you?”
“It’s just a building, Cam. Bricks and mortar, drywall and beams. It’s the people inside that make the home.”
With that stunningly wise proclamation, he pushed open the door and shouted, “Leia! Grant! Your favorite uncle in the whole wide world is here!”
Chapter 24
Camden
A herd of a thousand elephants rumbled through the house, coupled with shrieks that made me want to cover my ears. A blur of movement rushed around the corner. David was yanked out of my grasp as two little people crashed into his legs and clung to him.
“Oomph,” he grunted, moving back a step.
My eyes wide, I couldn’t decide where to focus first. On David’s smile, lit up like a thousand-watt bulb, or the little hands clamoring at his waist and shouting, “Uncle David! Uncle David! Mom! Uncle David’s here!”
“Yay!” the littler one, who I assumed was Grant Jr., shouted. “What you bing me? What you bing me?”
David laughed and stooped low, wrapping his arms around their shoulders. “Hey guys. Miss me?”
The immediate love pouring off David as he ruffled his niece’s and nephew’s hair stunned me. In Jamaica he’d talked about his family. I had seen the way his eyes lit up. Experiencing it in person was a completely different, enthralling experience.
“Children,” a feminine voice called out. Heels clicked on the tiled floor and one of the most stunning women I’d ever seen came into view. “You’ll have to excuse the kids,” she said, walking up to me with a warm smile. “My grandkids are animals. They get it from their uncle, I’m certain.” She winked.
She was in a light-colored blue and white dress that flared out at her hips and went to her calves, and her brown hair bounced on her shoulders, wisps of gray at her temples. David’s mother was beautiful, with eyes as blue as his and a smile that could beat him in a happiness competition.
“Camden Reed,” I said, holding out my hand for her.
She ignored it and embraced me with a hug. “So lovely to meet you.” I inhaled a quick scent of raspberries before she pulled back, her hands on my shoulders. “Please, call me Betty, and in this house, we hug.”
“Hello,” I said through nervous laughter.
David’s arm wrapped around my waist and he tugged me to him.
“Uncle David! Uncle David! Who is she?” The two little kids were still at his feet, bouncing on their toes, clamoring for his attention. I turned to him and he winked.
“Grant, Leia,” he said, looking at the children. “Tonight, all I brought for you is my friend, Camden. Can you say hello?”
“Hi!” the little girl chirped. “I’m Leia and I’m five. I’m in kindergarten this year but I hate it.” Her little mouth pursed into a pout.
I couldn’t resist her. “Why do you hate it?”
She rolled her eyes as if it were obvious. “Rules.” She groaned and flounced away, long blond curls flipping every which way. A woman, a taller mirror image of the cute girl, came around the corner, wiping her hands on a towel. “Don’t mind her. She takes after her father.”
“I heard that!” a masculine shout echoed from the other room.
“I’m Lindsay,” she said. Before I could say hello, she enfolded me in a hug that mirrored her mom’s and whispered, “Actually, that’s a lie, but I was going to wait to start embarrassing David until dessert. Nice to meet you, Camden. Mom said you were coming.”
She was still talking as she pulled back and pointed a finger down at her son. “Now you and Leia need to go get washed up, and tell your father to stop swiping his fingers on the frosting!”
Her voice rose with every word, and my eyes widened. Did the woman have eyes in the back of her head? She turned back to us. “Cupcakes for the kids for dessert. Pie for the adults.” Her brow wrinkled in an adorable way. “I’m not exactly sure yet which category my husband fits into.”
“Child,” David muttered.
I snickered.
She grinned.
And all the crap of the day evaporated in an instant.
“Damn, woman,” a man grumbled, walking around the corner. “It’s delicious.”
Lindsay’s blond hair swayed back and forth as she shook her head. “That man. Train them early, Camden, or you’ll be fighting them forever.”
“Yeah,” said Grant. He was still sucking frosting from a finger. His grin was as kind as those of the rest of the people swarming the large entry area. With a build that was bulky and large, almost as large as Declan—who looked like he could take down Hulk Hogan with a one-handed push—Grant’s smile was more disarming than menacing as he placed one hand at his wife’s back and held his other hand out for me.
The hand he’d just licked with his mouth.
“Um…” I nodded, heat creeping up my neck. I didn’t want to be rude, but ew. “Camden Reed. Nice to meet you.”
He winked and shoved his hand into his denim pocket. “That was pretty nasty, sorry.”
“Animals,” Lindsay muttered. Her gaze slid to David. “All of them.”
“Don’t bring me into this. I didn’t do anything except show up.”
His mom stepped in and clapped. “And it’s about time you did, young man. It’s been so long I was starting to forget what you looked like.”
“Mom—” It was a warning, but one that lacked heat. He sounded too happy.
My eyes continued jumping from one happy person to the next, not knowing where to settle and focus. Lindsay was beautiful, tall and thin, with curves that said she’d had a couple of kids but wasn’t trying to hide how that affected her body. Everyone besides Betty was casual in jeans, Lindsay wearing skinny jeans and a lightweight maroon sweater that set off her blond locks and light-blue eyes, which almost mirrored David’s in both look and mischief. Even the kids were wearing lightweight sweatpants and T-shirts with sugar sprinkled all over them, telling me they’d been helping someone make the frosting their dad had repeatedly pilfered.
Everyone except Betty and I was barefoot and comfortable, relaxed and trying to make me feel the same with their witty banter. It was working until I realized that, besides Betty, I was the only one in a dress. My navy wrap might have been simple and casual, but I was still overdr
essed, and clearly the odd one out with my dark auburn hair.
It was one of those “which of these things does not belong” pictures, and the arrow was pointed directly at me.
Perhaps noticing the way my shoulders tensed at the thought, or the heat on my cheeks that began spreading to the tips of my ears and down my throat, David hugged me to his side.
“Can we stop freaking Camden out?”
If I could have kicked him, I would have. The last thing I wanted was to be more of a spectacle.
“They’re not—”
“We are,” Lindsay said. She flashed me an apologetic smile and took her kids’ hands into hers. “And we’re sorry. We’re a lot to handle, but something tells me you’ll be fitting in just fine soon.”
“And in order to give you space,” Betty interrupted, hooking her arm through my free one and pulling me next to her, “let’s go to the kitchen, get the men some drinks, and get this food served before Lindsay yells at Grant anymore today. I don’t know who taught my daughter manners or politeness, but she didn’t get it from me, heaven forbid. I’ve been telling her her whole life that men don’t like a nag, but I gotta say, she can rip into that man like no one I’ve ever seen, and he must love her to the moon and back, because he puts up with all of it with a charming little grin.”
I was stunned as she rattled on, pulling me through a formal dining room that looked like a showcase in a museum with relics and vases and more silver than could possibly be found anywhere outside the Smithsonian. But the love and lightness in her voice calmed me and helped make me feel more comfortable.
This was her family, and it was clear that she loved them, even if they drove her crazy like she claimed.
Among all of it, what I wasn’t feeling at all was a lingering grief from her husband passing away much too soon. Even if it had been years ago, this family was tight knit. That much was clear.
They also had to be strong, with an inner strength I wasn’t ever quite so sure I had. But the more time I was with David, I longed to find it.
—
Lindsay hadn’t been kidding. They were a lot to handle, and the craziness that had greeted me in the entryway only increased through dinner. Somewhere along the way, through a glass of wine while I sat on a stool at the most enormous white-and-gray marble kitchen island I’d ever seen, I realized Lindsay had almost been right.
So had David.
His family welcomed me into their gigantic house with warm and strong arms and even bigger smiles, and didn’t seem to be in any hurry to let me go.
While sipping the wine, I’d told Betty about my job at the accounting firm, keeping it vague and trying not to think about everything that had happened earlier. Betty caught on quickly because she switched the questions and conversation to talk of Fireside Grill. She shared her obvious adoration for Declan and Trina, whom I wasn’t aware she’d met. It was easy to talk to her. Easy to feel at home in her vast, open white space that surprisingly felt warm and inviting rather than clinical and sterile.
During our conversation, the kids had been ushered into a playroom somewhere, the men had moved off to the living room to watch a hockey game, and Lindsay had stayed relatively quiet, helping her mom set the family table in the eating area of the kitchen, finish cooking the vegetables, and make a salad while they insisted I do nothing except relax.
When Lindsay asked about my parents, I hesitated and the room went quiet.
For some strange reason, honesty poured out of me. I stared at the glass of wine they’d given me and wondered for a moment if they’d dosed it with truth serum. I never talked about my family, but they’d been so open, so inviting, I couldn’t hold it back.
“My mom got pregnant with me when she was still a teenager. Her parents kicked her out, so she and the guy she was dating at the time moved into a trailer.” I shrugged it off at Lindsay’s quiet but surprised gasp. “He left before I ever came home from the hospital and it’s just been me and her ever since. We don’t…” I couldn’t help but stare around the large space. The doorways all led to even bigger rooms with fancier and more elegant decor. Thank God we weren’t eating in the formal dining room. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. “We never had a lot growing up.”
“That must have been tough on your mom,” Betty said, stopping what she was doing and walking over to me. “She must have worked really hard to take care of you.”
“Mostly odd jobs. She waitressed a lot and worked at a few banks as a teller.”
“She must be strong,” Lindsay said. She set her glass of wine down next to me, abandoning her half-made salad.
My mom was a survivor, but I wouldn’t necessarily call her strong. As much as I loved her, she was too flighty and lost too many jobs to be considered that.
I faced Lindsay, frowning. “Pardon?”
“I’ve always thought people who work in customer service or serving others all day long, and teachers, are the strongest people in the world. They have to be nice to everyone they meet even if they’re having a shitacular day.”
“Lindsay.” Betty’s tone was a warning. For the statement or for swearing, I didn’t know.
“It’s true, though.” She grinned and picked up her glass of wine. “Your mom must be incredible. Single mom, no parents, no family to help out, working every day smiling and helping others when she probably hated all of it, and she made you, and you seem pretty okay.”
I laughed despite myself. I had never been called pretty okay before. “Thanks, I think. I guess I’d never thought of her like that.”
“Sometimes it takes a different perspective.” Betty turned back to the oven and removed the roast she’d cooked for dinner. The aroma made my mouth water. It smelled delicious and brought to mind memories of family dinners at Suzanne’s house. As an only child, her parents had always been close and they did family dinners every night. Going to her house was such a different experience from mine, where I learned from a young age how to boil water for macaroni and cheese or slap together a bologna sandwich.
I had a feeling David’s family had been much the same as Suzanne’s, only with more people and more laughter.
“What do you mean?” I asked Betty.
She slid me a sad smile, one that traveled to her eyes and made them water. “When I lost their father, everything inside of me broke. For months, I barely managed to climb out of bed. My kids were grown and gone; Lindsay was already married. They had their own lives and I was alone in this house.”
“Mom—”
Betty raised a hand and silenced Lindsay’s caring, soft voice. “But one day, I was crying over photo albums, looking through family vacations we’d taken, and I was struck by the happiness that always, always shined in Geoffrey’s eyes and all over his face when we were together. There was nothing he loved more than his family. Nothing he loved more than this.” She spread her arms out wide. “Family, friends, grandkids running through the house…he would have loved to have all this, and that day, it became my mission to ensure that I had it…because he’d want it for me. I couldn’t do that sitting around, feeling sorry for myself.”
She sniffed, the sound echoed by Lindsay and myself.
“We had money, lots of it. We have more money than we’ll ever be able to spend no matter how much we give away and donate. It’s the truth of our life, what we continued creating after Geoffrey’s family started McGregor Motors. But do you know what, Camden?” she asked.
She was stripping me of my walls with her words and her tears. I didn’t know how much more I could take.
“What?” I asked, despite my fear, choking the word out.
“We could lose it all tomorrow. We could lose the house or the money or the trust funds or whatever else, and all I know is that Geoffrey never would have cared. As long as we had this family, these people who love us, the rest is all…just stuff…regardless of how pretty and fancy it’s packaged.”
God, she was killing me.
“I have a feeling your mom b
elieved the same thing. Regardless of all the hard times everyone faces in their lives, I have a feeling your mom and I have a similar perspective.”
“What’s that?”
“That as long as we wake up in the morning, as long as we get to see another sunset, it’s one more day to live. One more opportunity to share our life with someone else, one more day to work to give the ones we love everything we possibly can.”
Tears dripped down my cheeks faster than I could wash them away. Everything Betty said made me remember how ferociously my mom had fought for me after Evan. How she’d stood outside lawyers’ offices, begging someone to take our case so we could lock him up. In those weeks and months and even years after he attacked me, my mom was a warrior.
It was something I tended to forget when I was feeling sorry for myself and lost in my lists and the haze of the past that shrouded every decision I made.
“What the hell did you say to her?” David’s booming, furious voice made me jump and I spun on my stool.
He hurried over to me, setting his beer bottle so harshly on the counter I was surprised it didn’t shatter. His arms wrapped around my shoulders. He barely scanned my face, swiping my tears before he scowled at Lindsay and his mom. “Why in the hell would you upset her like this?”
Chapter 25
David
Camden giggled as I whipped around to look at my sister and mom. Fucking hell. The last thing I’d expected when I left her alone with them was to have her end up crying. I wanted her to see how fantastic my mom and sister were, to see that they were insane, and maybe incredibly wealthy, but still down-to-earth, normal human beings who wouldn’t judge her because of where she came from.
Seeing tears running down her cheeks made me burn deep inside my chest.
“I’m fine, David. We’re all fine.”
Like hell she was. “You’re crying.”
She chortled. “We were having a girl moment. It’s fine, really.” She lifted her hand and pressed it to my forearm. Her soft touch caused an entirely different kind of burn to ignite and buzz from my arm straight to my chest.