by Jo Victor
Too late. Somewhere between Alex’s mixed-up directions and the distraction of their conversation, Cam caught a foot wrong and tripped, falling backward against the station door and pushing it open in the process. Her momentum and the weight of the box carried her out through the doorway. She missed her footing again on the sidewalk and fell down smack on her butt. Fortunately, mostly thanks to Alex’s attempt to tilt the box away from Cam even as it slipped from her grip, the thing landed not on top of her but right next to her, splitting open with a resounding crash and scattering books in all directions.
“Oh my God! Are you okay? Did you hurt anything?”
“Naught but my pride, and that should heal right enough.” One of the books had ended up in her lap and she picked it up, a strange expression on her face as she looked at the cover. “Inspiration for your research, you said? Maybe it’s a pity I didn’t stick with school longer than I did. Seems I might have missed a fair bit.” She handed the book to Alex, who had a pretty good idea of what to expect even before she looked at it.
And so it proved. Naturally, it couldn’t have been a feminist treatise, or a lesbian romance novel, or even some halfway-respectable erotica. No, of course it was one of her collection of classic pulps—and not even something reasonable, by, say, Ann Bannon. Nope, it was Satan Was a Lesbian in all its gaudy scarlet glory, featuring a leather-clad, whip-cracking brunette menacing a not-at-all-unhappy looking blonde in black underwear while Satan himself looked down approvingly. She felt her face turning as red as the cover.
“Thank you,” she said dryly before helping Cam to her feet, which surprisingly she tolerated without comment. Maybe she was more shaken up than she let on.
Clean up took a while, but that didn’t really bother Alex at first. The box was pretty much a total loss, so they ended up stacking all the books in the back of the van, a few at a time. However, the sky, which had merely been cloudy when they set out from Bramfell, was looking more and more menacing every moment, and Alex found herself growing anxious as the rising wind made it obvious a storm was on its way. She started racing around and just dumping books into the back of the van any old way.
Finally Cam laid a hand on her arm. She tried to pull away but Cam’s grasp, though gentle, wouldn’t budge. Cam drew her closer.
“More haste, less speed, lass. Just breathe.”
Which Alex suddenly found herself completely unable to do. Wind, books, anxiety all vanished as she gazed deep into the golden brown eyes that were mere inches away. The moment seemed to stretch on forever.
Cam abruptly released her and took a quick step back. Alex found herself looking around, suddenly very interested in anything but Cam. Somehow, they managed to finish the rest of the job without ever actually coming near each other again.
When they were finally done, the entire back was piled with books. It wasn’t going to be much fun unloading, but at least they had beaten the rain.
Chapter Six
As Cam drove away from the station, the first drops of rain hit the windscreen. She started thinking ahead to the unloading, thankful for the porte cochere at Dawson House. Anything to get her mind off the woman sitting beside her and what had almost happened in the station car park. She’d almost kissed Alex—right in front of Seth, for God’s sake! Poor old gaffer would have had heart failure, and then she’d have had to tell his great-granddaughter how he ended up in hospital because Cam couldn’t be trusted within arm’s reach of a pretty girl. Of course, Seth’s great-grand wasn’t bad looking herself, so—
Bloody hell, she was babbling. She never babbled, ever. What was wrong with her?
The question naturally made her glance sideways at the answer. The sound of a horn tore her attention back to where it should have been all along, and she swerved just a bit to get back to her side of the road. She heard Alex swear under her breath and didn’t blame her in the least.
Bloody flaming hell. She hadn’t been this distractible in a long, long while. Not since—automatically her mind shied away from that very sore spot. Maybe she should take her own advice and breathe.
A few minutes into the drive, visibility had dropped so far it was all she could do to concentrate on the road just ahead of her. Thankfully she had taken this route so often she could just about drive it blindfold, because matters were rapidly reaching that very point. God only knew what somebody would do who wasn’t as familiar with—
The answer came tearing at her around a blind curve. Bleeding bloody tosser. She didn’t waste time or effort on her horn, just changed gear and whipped out of the way onto the shoulder, leaving the fool in possession of the roadway and his worthless life. Ignoring Alex’s cry of distress, she focused on maintaining—regaining—control of the van as they flew around the corner. Now she just had to slow down a bit more, try a touch of brake so she could steer back—
Thump. Thump, thump, thump. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Those sounds and the feel of the wheels bumping along that way could mean only one thing. She slowed to a complete stop and put on the hand brake for good measure. The pounding rain sounded even louder now that the engine was off. Or maybe it was just coming down harder. This was going to be loads of fun.
Alex, of course, was already talking. Probably going to tear a strip right off her. But then she realized Alex didn’t sound angry at all.
“…amazing. I mean, you were so calm—I would have been a wreck. And then we’d probably have ended up in one—a wreck that is. Goddamn fool—too bad it happened so fast I didn’t get his license plate. I’d be on the phone to the police right now. If I had a phone. Bastard.”
Cam smiled at her fierce tone. “You mean to say you really don’t have a mobile? I thought you were just trying to warn me off asking for your number.”
“I really don’t have a mobile. As for the rest of it, though, I’ll have to take the Fifth.”
“Sorry?”
“I’m refusing to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me.” Alex really had an adorable smile.
“Oh, right—like on CSI.”
She suddenly looked rueful. “I screamed like a girl, didn’t I?”
“I’ll, uh, take the Fifth.” Cam felt herself grinning like a fool. “Unfortunately, we’ve got a puncture.”
“A flat tire? Seriously?”
“I’ll just nip out and deal with it…” Cam looked over her shoulder at the big box wedged just behind the seats, and all of the loose books beyond it, no longer stacked in neat piles but flung about every which way.
Alex must have been looking at the very same thing, because she said, “Please tell me that the jack and spare tire aren’t where I think they are.”
“Fifth.” It didn’t feel so funny now. “Right, I guess I’ll have to start by shifting some of the books—”
Never in her life had she seen anyone race out of a vehicle so fast. Lord knows the woman was usually in such a hurry, but this was just ridiculous. Bracing herself, she opened the door and jumped out. She was instantly soaked, and the ground was already a mire. She felt her boots sink in and dampness seeping into the top of her socks. No help for it. She trudged through the muck to the back of the van.
There stood Alex, her hair plastered to her head and her T-shirt plastered to her body. Cam didn’t mind taking a moment to admire the view, but she needed to sort out whatever was going on with Alex so she could get on with repairing the puncture. The sooner she could do that, the sooner they could both get out of the bloody weather and be on their way.
Cam moved closer, and Alex threw herself back against the van, her arms flung out to block the doors. The look on her face was so ferocious Cam took a step back before she even realized she was frightened. Startled. Just a bit surprised, is all.
When Alex spoke, her voice was low and menacing. “You are not going to open these doors.”
“I’m just going to repair the puncture. I’m not going to hurt anything.”
“You are not going to open these doors.” This time it was litt
le more than a growl.
“Now then, Alex”—Cam focused on keeping her voice calm and slow—“I’ve got to repair the tire. I need the things from the van so I can—”
“I said, you are not going to open these doors. Period.”
“Be reasonable.”
Big mistake. Alex flew forward, and Cam took another step back, but not fast enough. Alex was right up in her face, yelling and waving her arms about.
“Reasonable? Reasonable! If you open those doors, do you know what’s going to happen? Well, I’ll tell you—every single one of those books is going to come falling out into the rain and the mud. Didn’t you see how they were all piled up in the back, right against the doors? And then they will be absolutely, one hundred percent ruined. And that is not going to happen.”
“But, Alex—”
“I am paying you, goddamn it. I hired you to transport my books safely to Dawson House, and that is what you are going to do. Is that clear?”
Cam blew out a soundless whistle. “Yes, miss. Perfectly clear.” She stepped to one side, putting some distance between them. Alex moved to stay between her and the van, clearly still prepared for battle. Which should have been funny, since the idea that Alex could do anything to stop her physically was ridiculous. But that possibility should never even have arisen. Alex was absolutely right. She was a client.
Cam began a careful study of the toes of her boots and the surrounding mud. She never behaved like this with a client, even the thickheaded, unreasonable, insulting ones. So. No puncture repair. But in that case, what the bloody blazes was she going to do?
“Cam, I’m sorry.”
Cam looked up, surprised at Alex’s change in tone. Alex reached out a hand as if to touch her arm, then dropped it. She really did look apologetic.
“I didn’t mean to imply that you, that I—oh, the hell with it. What are we going to do?”
“Well, I’d say we’ve two choices. We can stand about in the rain and hope for rescue. Although they do say this stretch of road gets its share of elves and whatnot roaming about, on the lookout for unwary folk.”
“That doesn’t sound encouraging.”
“Not to worry. Apparently they’re mostly after naughty children. At least that’s what Mum always used to say.”
“So what’s our alternative?”
“Ring for AA.”
“A what? Oh, I bet that’s a tow truck. That’s my choice.”
“I agree. Let’s get back inside and I’ll ring a garage.” Sitting in the van, wet through, was almost worse than being out in the rain. Cam took out her mobile.
“Any luck?” said Alex.
“No joy, I’m afraid. No signal.”
“Of course not. That would mean an end to our perfect run of luck. Bad luck.” She smiled, and Cam smiled back. “What now? Wait for the elves?”
“I don’t fancy sitting here doing nothing, elves or no elves. There’s a pub down one of the side roads a mile or so that way.” She gestured with her thumb. “I can ring from there.” Alex was frowning. “I’ll be back before you know I’m gone. Stay in the van—I’ll make sure the doors are locked.”
“Oh no, you don’t. I’ve read that story. I’m not staying here waiting for the Elf Queen to spirit me off and have her wicked way with me.”
“Not to worry—I hear she only fancies boys. Besides, you don’t want to be trudging miles through the wet.”
“I’m not made of sugar—I won’t melt. And I’ll probably be warmer walking in the rain than just sitting here shivering.”
Trust Alex to carry on being stubborn. Shaking her head, Cam climbed out of the van. Once Alex had stepped out as well, she locked up and they started down the road.
*
By the time they finally reached the pub, Alex was thoroughly over whatever silly scruples had led her to insist on accompanying Cam, even though the rain had tapered off and finally stopped, considerably reducing the misery factor. Cam seemed unfazed by any of it, striding along, never flagging, but even with all the walking Alex had been doing on the moors and around the village, she had trouble keeping up. Still, she refused to say anything and stringently stifled any sounds that might have come across as unspoken complaining. After all, she was responsible for the situation—well, not as responsible as that idiot who ran them off the road, but still.
Alex was so engrossed in putting one foot in front of the other that she barreled right into Cam, having completely missed it when she came to a stop. After a bit of confusion, Alex somehow found herself with both of Cam’s arms wrapped around her waist. Cam was holding her so close their faces were practically touching. Alex had just enough time to register a mixture of embarrassment and excitement before light flooded them from a suddenly opened doorway and they sprang apart. Clearly they had arrived at their destination.
In a short while they were inside and seated at a table near the fire—blessings on whoever had decided to light it despite the date on the calendar—and they had ordered, at Cam’s insistence, food as well as hot drinks. While Cam went in search of a phone, Alex looked around the room.
The pub exhibited a certain rustic charm, heavy on the rustic. Dark wood, low ceilings, a few scattered customers who would have been right at home in a Hammer Studios vampire movie. By the looks of it, this could well have been the spot where Branwell Brontë came to drink away his broken heart.
Cam was back not long after their meal was served, reporting that rescue was on the way but unlikely to arrive for a while yet. At first they ate in silence. Cam had been absolutely right about the food, and Alex told her so. Her shepherd’s pie was savory and delicious and would probably have tasted just as good even if she hadn’t been trekking through the rain.
“The place isn’t much to look at, but they lay on fine grub. Don’t overwater the drink, either.”
“What is this again? It’s really good—although I think I’d better ease up on it. I’m not much of a drinker.”
“Hot gin punch. Not sure what all they put in it, but theirs is better than any I’ve had elsewhere, even in London.”
“Oh, do you go down to London a lot?”
“Up to London. At least, that’s what London folk’ll tell you.”
“They do think a lot of themselves, don’t they? One of my friends lives in London, but he was raised here in the North. It’s not exactly the same.”
“Too right, it isn’t.”
“I spent a year in London while I was at university. I enjoyed it at the time, but I don’t think I’d want to live there again.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t like the way it feels—too much hurry, too big, too anonymous. A short visit is about as much as I can stand. How about you?”
“I don’t go there at all, not anymore. But I did live there for a while.”
“Really?” Somehow, she couldn’t picture Cam among all the chrome and glass and bustle. Or the filth and decay and despair. “When was that?”
“It’s been a good few years.”
“How did you end up there?”
“I wanted a go at the bright and shiny, a chance to meet folk that hadn’t known me since I was in nappies. Old story, isn’t it? Leeds was too close, and Manchester was, well, Manchester. Never did fancy it. So London.” She smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes.
“But then you came back here.” Something wasn’t right, but Alex didn’t want to push too hard.
“Aye. Mum wasn’t well, and so I came home. After she died, I saw no reason to go back.”
“I’m so sorry. How old were you?”
Cam looked off to one side, thinking. “It’s been, what, four years? No, five. So twenty-nine.” She looked back at Alex. “I can’t say I think much about the time going by. She was here, and now she isn’t. That’s what matters.”
After a small silence, Alex said, “So you were exactly the age I am now when she died.” She shook her head sympathetically. “It must have been awful. I can’t even imagine what
I’d do if I lost my mother. It’s been just the two of us for so long.”
“Is your father dead, then?”
“I’d like to think so.”
“What?”
“Well, maybe not exactly dead. But I hope he’s at least got some kind of painful, disfiguring disease. The rat bastard finally left for good when I was eleven, but not until he’d put Mom through all kinds of crap. He used to try to get me to cover for him. You know, the last woman he was cheating on her with was pretty nice. I hope she wised up quickly and left him. How’s your dad?”
“Car crash. I was sixteen.”
“Oh.”
“Just as well I was done with school by then—or school was done with me. Went to work for my uncle and never looked back.”
“Sorry. That wasn’t very sensitive of me.”
Cam laughed, a little bitterly. “No need to be sensitive. No great loss, as far as I was concerned.”
“Then I really am sorry.”
“It was a lot harder on Mum. He and I used to have epic rows, and she loved both of us.”
Alex felt her stomach twist. “Did he hit you?”
“He came close once or twice. I think I could have stood it better than some of the things he said. Seems I wasn’t enough of a son or a daughter to suit him.”
“Ouch. So he couldn’t handle you being a lesbian?”
Cam’s expression went completely blank. She looked at Alex in utter shock. “A lesbian? What on earth are you talking about?”
Alex felt her jaw actually drop as her mind furiously replayed various scenes—Cam asking for her number, giving her those flirty looks, almost kissing her…
Cam guffawed. “Oh, you should see your face. I should snap a picture.”
Alex tried to speak but could produce nothing but incoherent spluttering.
Cam continued to laugh. “I swear I’ve never met anyone so apt to swallow whatever nonsense is on offer. Perhaps next time I’ll take you to see the fairies at the bottom of the garden.”
Alex finally found her voice. “Oh, very funny. Just too goddamn hilarious. Cameron Carter, you are just—”