Jameson (War Cats Book 3)

by Grace Brennan

  Digging deep inside him, he tried to figure out how it made him feel. Just like her pregnancy, he was sure it was something that would bother a lot of men. Very few would be comfortable with it.

  But it didn’t really bother him. Everyone had a past, and some were rougher than others. He honestly couldn’t say if he’d feel the same way if she currently stripped for a living, but he hoped he would be as open minded if she did.

  Her previous career changed nothing. He felt a burning desire to give her other options, to make sure she never had to go back to that if she didn’t want to. And he longed to know why she’d done it to begin with, because from the look in her gorgeous brown eyes, she hadn’t been happy while doing it. But it didn’t make him want her any less.

  But one thing the images made clear was she wasn’t so skinny because she was trying to be. She was still on the thinner side in the images. She probably had to be, to keep her job. But she was more rounded, curvy, with a decent amount of flesh on her bones.

  Right now, other than the belly he knew she was hiding under her baggy shirts, she was basically bones with a thin layer of skin over top. And it made his determination to make sure she ate as much as she could stomach even fiercer.

  Walking inside, he sat the box down on the table just as she walked down the hallway. She smiled warily at him, but when she saw her box, it became genuine. “Thank you, Jameson! I have stuff in there I wouldn’t want to lose. Was it too heavy?”

  He shook his head, feeling just about stunned stupid by her smile. “Not at all. I wanted to make sure you were okay with me taking it to your room. I didn’t want to go in without permission.”

  Eyes widening, her smile faltered for a moment before coming back even stronger than before, the skin at the corner of her eyes crinkling. “Thanks for that. I really appreciate it, especially since it’s your house and you have every right to go inside. It’s fine, though. I’m gonna go finish cleaning the kitchen.”

  Nodding, he watched as she turned away, and he started to pick up the box again. Pausing, he glanced at her retreating form. “Hey, Cady. I know you said you grew up in foster care, but you don’t have anyone else who can help you? A friend, boyfriend, husband, maybe?”

  Asking her was a calculated risk, but he had to know. And his tiger had been pleading with him to find out since he noticed the difference in last names. She could lie, but he’d be able to tell. He hoped she didn’t, though. She had before, but he really wanted her to be honest in this.

  She froze in her tracks, a shudder wracking her body before she got it under control. Turning to face him, she studied him with narrowed eyes, suspicion on her face.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  Trying to look casual and praying it worked, he shrugged. “Like I said, I was wondering if there was anyone who could help you. Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than happy to help while you’re here. And if you wanted to stay longer, I’d continue to help and be grateful for the chance. But I know you won’t be here much longer, and I was just wondering if you had anyone you could call on.”

  She sighed, sadness briefly flashing across her face before she pasted an expressionless mask on her face. “I don’t want to ask anyone for help. Get that expression off your face, Jameson. I have my pride, but I’m well aware that this baby is more important than that. No, there’s no one I can call on. No boyfriend and sure as shit no husband. And my friends, well, they’re not much better off than I am. They’d help in a heartbeat if I asked them to, and I will if it’s really needed, but helping me will hurt them. I won’t do that unless I absolutely don’t have a choice.”

  “Okay. I was just wondering. I’m gonna get this box upstairs, then watch a movie in the living room. You’re more than welcome to join me. I’d enjoy it, really. The house is pretty quiet when Tarun’s not here.”

  Her face was conflicted, but he didn’t wait for a reply. Just gave her his friendliest, least threatening smile, and climbed the stairs. It was a bit of a struggle, because his knees were fucking weak as shit. She hadn’t lied. She didn’t have a current husband, or even a boyfriend. There was nothing holding him back from pursuing her.

  Thank all that’s holy for that. Now get to work, his tiger said, as relieved as Jameson was.

  I’m getting there.

  And he was. Hopefully, fingers crossed, she’d join him for a movie. He wasn’t holding out much hope, especially since she was still skittish around him. He fully expected her to hightail it to her bedroom the second the kitchen was clean.

  But he had to offer. And he’d keep offering until at some point she gave in and said yes. This was way too fucking important, and he couldn’t stop trying. One day, he’d wear her down. Show her that yes, there were some good men out there, and he was one of them. And he would never, in a million years, hurt her, and she could trust him completely.

  He just hoped he could do that soon. He had big goals, but only about a week to accomplish them in. Or at least a week to talk her into staying long enough for him to convince her to give him, give them, a shot. It didn’t feel like nearly long enough, but he could do it. He had to.

  There was way too much riding on this.

  Chapter Six

  Cadence stood in the kitchen, debating on what she should do. She’d been standing here for the better part of five minutes, the kitchen sparkling clean, trying to decide if she should go to her bedroom or watch a movie with Jameson.

  The answer should have been obvious. She should absolutely go straight to her bedroom and lock herself in until morning. It was the prudent thing to do. Hell, screw prudent. It was the smart thing to do. The last thing she needed was to spend time with him. Let him get closer to her. Let him possibly convince her that he actually was a genuinely nice guy. Fuck if she didn’t know better than to believe any of those existed outside of romance movies or books.

  The problem was, she wanted to go to the living room. It’d been so damn long since she was able to relax while watching a movie. She hadn’t watched one in years. Hell, she didn’t even know what was out there.

  But that wasn’t the only reason why she wanted to. Yeah, she’d been burned, literally, by men before. She’d never met a truly nice guy. They only knew how to take, only thought of themselves, and didn’t give two shits about women at all, much less their feelings or what they needed. But they sure knew how to pretend quite convincingly that they did, only letting their true colors out once they had the woman locked down and she had no way out.

  Even knowing that, and that the person Jameson seemed to be was most likely a lie, she still wanted to spend time with him. And it made little sense. She was suspicious of him. Skittish. Freaked out if it looked like he was coming close to her at all. Why the hell would she want to be anywhere around him? Especially with her history.

  Her hand dropped to her belly as she felt a nudge from within. She didn’t know what she was having yet, but she knew one thing. If it was a boy, she was teaching him better. Teaching him to be a good man. That women had value, too. She’d be damned if he grew up to be like his father, or any other man she ever met.

  Except… maybe, just maybe, Jameson wasn’t like the men she knew. Already, he acted far differently than even those she knew who changed later. And if she added in how he treated his sister, how she reacted to him, it muddled her thoughts further.

  Cadence just couldn’t see how, if he had a different nature, he could keep the mask in place long enough to fool Tarun. That would be a lifetime of never slipping up. She wasn’t sure how old he was, but his sister was twenty-five, just one year younger than Cadence. And she couldn’t see how he could go twenty-five years without slipping up once—unless he really was a genuinely nice guy who cared about people, women included.

  If that were true, he was basically a unicorn among men.

  Gah. She wouldn’t solve this riddle tonight. She needed to just put it aside and go upstairs, relax with one of the few books she had with her. Keep herself separate from both
Tarun and Jameson, and leave here as soon as her new radiator was installed.

  She ordered her feet to take her out of the kitchen and to her room.

  Instead, they turned and took her to the pantry, where she got a bag of popcorn out. Placing it in the microwave and turning it on, she fixed two glasses of Coke, thinking it would go well with the snack, all the while wondering what the hell she was doing.

  This was the very opposite of going to her room. Of keeping herself separate. Of staying the hell away from Jameson and the possibility—no, probability—of getting hurt again.

  But her body wasn’t listening to her. Not as she finished filling glasses with ice and Coke and placed them on a tray. Not as she got the popcorn out of the microwave and poured it into a large bowl, putting it on the tray next to the drinks. And not as she carefully picked it up and made her way to the living room.

  She walked to the living room, hesitating in the threshold. Jameson was standing in front of a large cabinet full of an astonishing amount of DVDs. Truly, it looked more like a video store than someone’s home collection. He was starting to reach for one when he suddenly paused, head whipping around, spotting her instantly.

  His blue eyes immediately lit up, the dark blue seeming to have lighter hues of blue swirling in the irises in a way she hadn’t noticed before. “Hey! I didn’t think you’d join me. And you made popcorn. I’m still stuffed from dinner and dessert, but I can always make room for popcorn. It’s one of my favorite treats. Can I take the tray? It looks heavy.”

  Brow furrowing, she wondered why he was asking, and then her cheeks heated when she realized why. He’d obviously noticed the way she flinched away when he came near, and she hated that. Couldn’t help her embarrassment over him noticing the way she reacted. Dammit, she hated how she cowered sometimes. It really wasn’t how she was, but after the last year, she couldn’t help it.

  “That’s fine,” she finally answered, willing her voice to sound normal. “I’d probably drop it if I tried to set it on the coffee table, anyway.”

  Approaching slowly, he held his arms out and took the tray from her, making sure he kept a decent amount of distance between them. As he set the tray on the table, he glanced over his shoulder at her. “I’m glad you’re joining me. I didn’t think you would, and I’d have to watch a movie by myself again.”

  Shrugging, she slowly moved to the couch, taking a seat on one end and hugging the arm so she was as far away as possible. “I wasn’t going to, but it’s been a while since I watched a movie. I thought it might be nice, and I’ve read the books I brought with me a thousand times. What are we watching?”

  He moved back to the cabinet. “I haven’t picked one out yet. What would you like to watch? We have it all, just about. Old and new. Romance, action, comedy. Even some Disney movies from when Tarun was little.”

  “Anything except romance,” she blurted, a little too vehemently, judging by the way his eyes widened.

  “Okay, no romance. I mean, I’m a guy. I’m not gonna argue with that. It wouldn’t be my first choice, either. How about Red? It’s pretty good. It’s an action movie, but really funny, too. One of my favorites. It has Bruce Willis in it, among other big-name actors.”

  She nodded, but although she thought she knew who Bruce Willis was, she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t going to admit that, though. “That sounds good to me.”

  Giving her a big smile, he turned around and plucked a movie out. Quickly popping it in the DVD player, he grabbed a remote, turning the TV on and pushing some buttons. When he faced the couch, she held her breath, worried he’d sit too closely to her. But he walked to the other end of the couch, leaning against the armrest like she was.

  Blowing out a relieved breath, she slid her flip flops off and pulled up her legs so she could lean more naturally, and then froze. Shit, shit, shit, she just put her feet on his couch. They were clean, but that didn’t matter. It was still rude, and he would get so mad. She caught him glancing over at her, and she panicked, babbling as she lowered her feet.

  “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have put my feet on the couch, and I swear it’ll never happen again. I just got too comfortable, I guess, but—”

  “Hey,” he said gently turning to face her. “Slow down and take a breath. It’s totally fine. Me and Tarun put our feet on the furniture all the time. It’s no big deal. It’s not like the couch is new, and even if it was, I wouldn’t care. I’m just happy you feel comfortable enough in my house to do that. Go ahead and put them back up. Settle in for the movie. I promise I don’t care.”

  Studying him closely, she wondered if it was a trap. He might say it was okay and then ream her for it when she did it. God knows, Winston backhanded her so hard she saw stars and was spitting blood when she did it back in Atlanta. But Jameson’s eyes were open and honest, so she slowly put her feet back up. He just smiled warmly at her and turned his attention forward.

  He’d been telling the truth. He really didn’t care if she put her feet on the furniture. Feeling equal parts relieved and puzzled, she relaxed into the arm of the couch. He confused her so much. He didn’t react like any man she ever knew before. And she was beginning to believe that, despite all odds, he really was the nice guy he seemed to be.

  Leaning forward, he took one of the glasses and handed it to her. She accepted it, sucking in a breath as their fingers touched. Holy hell, what was that? It felt like his touch lit up her body. Trying her best to ignore it, she took a sip before placing the glass on a coaster on the side table next to her. Reaching out, he grabbed the bowl of popcorn and put it on the cushion between them.

  “There, now we don’t have to reach too far when we want some. Thanks for thinking of it.”

  She smiled at him as the previews played on the TV, surprised to find it was genuine. “You’re welcome. You said most of the people in Durga Valley are Indian, right?”

  Looking surprised at the change in subject, he nodded. “Yeah. We have a lot of Russian people here, too, and a few other nationalities. But for the most part, we’re Indian.”

  “Including you and Tarun?”

  “Yep. Why do you look confused?”

  She shrugged. She didn’t want to offend him with her questions, but she was going to ask them anyway. From what she knew of him, he wouldn’t be upset. At least, she hoped he wouldn’t.

  “You both have lightly tanned skin, and darker hair. But you have some red highlights in your hair, and your last name is Campbell. Neither seems very Indian.”

  He laughed, the rich sound dancing over her nerves and sending a shiver up her spine. “It’s because my paternal grandfather was Scottish. He had bright red hair, was pale as a sheet, and spoke with a brogue. But the rest of my ancestors were Indian, so it mostly canceled out the Scot. Except for the reddish glints in mine and Tarun’s hair, and our last name.”

  “I like it. I’ve never seen black hair that has red highlights in it. It’s unique and looks good.”

  He cocked an eyebrow as he looked at her, smiling slowly, and she blushed, cursing her runaway mouth. Did she really just compliment him? Yes, yes she had. What the hell was wrong with her?

  “Thanks. I’m glad you like it,” he replied, dark blue eyes swirling with lighter blue, and intense as he watched her.

  Clearing her throat, she forced herself to look casual—at least she hoped she did—as she looked back toward the TV. “Looks like the movie’s starting.”

  Smiling crookedly, he nodded as he turned his attention forward. Breathing out a sigh of relief, she turned to watch the movie as well, but it took her a moment to focus. His smile hit her straight in the chest, making the fickle organ swell as her body warmed.

  He was gorgeous, there was no denying that. But she shouldn’t be noticing it, and sure as fuck shouldn’t want to act on it. How many freakin’ times did she have to learn her lesson before it stuck?

  It took everything in her, but she managed to blank her thoughts completely. And it wasn’t long
before she was sucked into the movie. Jameson was right, it was funny. And it did have a small romantic side story, but there was so much going on that it seemed like nothing. They watched silently for a while, and then she absently reached over for some popcorn.

  At the same time he did.

  Their fingers touched in the bowl, and she sucked in a breath as she jerked her gaze to him. He did the same, the light blue swirls appearing in his eyes, lightening by the moment. She’d never known anyone with eyes like that, and it was kind of weird, but interesting, too. She liked it.

  Neither one of them moved. She told herself she should, but she just couldn’t seem to make herself. His eyes were intense, questioning, but when she didn’t take her hand away, he slowly tangled his fingers with hers.

  Licking her suddenly dry lips, she swallowed hard, expecting the panic to set in. Waited on it to wash over her. But, though it was there, it was in the background, just barely felt, and she still couldn’t make herself move her hand away. In fact, her fingers tightened just a tiny bit around his.

  What the hell was this sorcery? Instead of freaking out and jumping away, she tried to keep their connection, to deepen it. She should feel scared, uneasy at the least, and instead, she felt… safe. Like Jameson could protect her. Like he’d never hurt her, and he’d keep the monsters under the bed—and in her past—at bay.

  His eyes warmed as he smiled at her, and her breath stalled in her chest as she got caught in his gaze. She wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, fingers locked together in the popcorn bowl as the movie played in the background. But the spell was broken as a forceful nudge moved her belly. Gasping, she pulled her hand away to place it on her stomach.

  She’d never felt the baby move that strongly before, and she put her other hand on the opposite side, hoping to feel it on the outside, too.

  When she felt it again, a tiny foot or hand push against her hand, she smiled so big her cheeks hurt. That was so amazing. And she didn’t know how she could love someone so much she hadn’t even met, but she did. More than anything, more than she knew it was possible to love.