Among The Stars: A Shooting Stars Novella

by Osburn, Terri

  Who did that?

  “Nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Hamilton.”

  They’d exchanged a few more details on the way over, including the family name, Emma and Nick’s occupations (dental hygienist and mortgage specialist respectively), and Veronica’s age. She was three years older than Ash, which he’d teased her about from time to time, but Cam was two years ahead of her. Slight as the difference was, she liked the idea of dating an older man.

  Or pretending to.

  “Come in and meet the rest of the family.” Daddy let Cam and Mama lead the way. “Is that a 6 Series Gran Turismo?” he whispered in Veronica’s ear.

  “Maybe?” she whispered back. She had no clue about cars. Whatever Cam drove, it was expensive. That was the extent of her knowledge.

  With a gentle shoulder nudge, he said, “You’ve finally brought home a winner.”

  Veronica stopped, stunned by the statement, and watched her father catch up to the pair in front of them before all three disappeared into the living room.

  What the heck? Finally brought home a winner? Had he forgotten about his favorite son-in-law? Daddy rarely had time with Ash, but only because Mama monopolized his visits. Or maybe that wasn’t the reason after all. Did Daddy really not like Ash?

  “Hey, sis,” Emma said, coming from the hall to the bedrooms. “About time you got here. Mama was practically planning your funeral this morning.”

  “Do you like Ash?” Veronica asked, ignoring the funeral comment.

  Emma shrugged. “He’s okay. If you like that type.”

  “What type?”

  “I don’t know. Nice guys?”

  “What’s wrong with nice guys?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with them. Maybe safe is a better word. Or harmless.” She nodded. “Yeah, harmless. Ash is super harmless.”

  “Dude,” Olivia said, hurrying into the foyer, “you’ve been holding out on us. Cameron-freaking-Rhodes? Are you serious right now?”

  “What about Cameron Rhodes?” Emma asked.

  “He’s in our living room,” her sister replied, spastically waving a hand toward the doorway behind her. “He’s Veronica’s date.”

  Emma shoved Veronica hard in the shoulder. “You’re dating Cameron Rhodes?”

  Lying to her sisters felt extremely disloyal, but maintaining this hoax would be easier if everyone remained in the dark.

  “We haven’t been dating for long,” she answered, rubbing her shoulder. “We met right before Thanksgiving.”

  This was the timeline they’d concocted in the driveway before coming inside. First, they’d discussed the gaudy display on the lawn, which Cam had diplomatically referred to as nice, but then they’d settled on six weeks of casually seeing each other. Well, not too casually since she was bringing him home to meet the family.

  “You couldn’t have mentioned that over a drumstick?” Olivia asked.

  “It was new, and I didn’t know if it would go anywhere. You know how mother is.” Veronica finished taking off her coat and hung it on the rack to her left. “The minute I mention a man, she starts picking out china patterns and talking about grandchildren.”

  “Oh. My. God,” Emma said, closing her eyes. “Can you imagine how beautiful Cameron Rhodes’ children would be?”

  “Get a grip.” Veronica pushed her sisters along. “We aren’t anywhere near the child-bearing stage.” And never would be, sadly. “Don’t embarrass me. Or scare him off. I really like him.”

  Finally, a statement of truth. Cam didn’t have to take a drunk woman home, and he likely regretted the decision right about now, but he’d done it. And he’d tagged along today for no reason other than Veronica didn’t want to feel like a loser for one afternoon.

  He also didn’t seem to mind her constant chatter or her dramatic leanings. She’d have survived today on her own, but thanks to Cam, she didn’t have to.

  Stepping into the living room, Veronica scanned the area for her date and found him in the worst possible place—trapped in the kitchen with her mother. Crap. She needed to rescue him and fast.

  “Hey, Veronica. We thought you were dead.” Chet had never been the most tactful guy. Nor was he, as Daddy liked to say, the sharpest crayon in the box, at least not socially. But the man was a genius when it came to science. He also loved Olivia, adored his children, and tolerated his mother-in-law’s constant demands. That made him a winner in Veronica’s book.

  “Not yet,” she replied, accepting his hug but keeping an eye on Cam. He didn’t look angry or annoyed, which was good. “How are the Predators doing this year?” Chet was an avid hockey fan and bled yellow and blue from September to April. Unless the team made the playoffs. Then his devotion lasted well into June.

  “Great!” he exclaimed. “And we should have Arvie back by the end of the year.”

  To Veronica’s confused look, Olivia said, “He’s a player who’s been injured.”

  “Ah. Got it.” She held two thumbs up. “Go Preds!”

  Chet mimicked the thumb thing, and his wife said, “Honey, why don’t you go see what the kids are up to?”

  “I can do that.”

  The sweet man wandered off in search of his children, and Veronica leaned toward Emma. “Olivia likes harmless.”

  Chet was the poster boy for harmless.

  “Olivia is an alpha. Of course, she’d marry a beta.”

  “What?” the older sister asked.

  “You two really need to read the books I send you.” Emma had been sending her sisters romance novels for years, but neither ever actually read them. “Olivia is a boss. She could run the world if necessary. That’s alpha. She’d never be able to live with another alpha. They’d fight all the time, and she’d eventually beat him to death with a frying pan.”

  Olivia opened her mouth, but instead of protesting, she said, “That’s pretty accurate.”

  “I could run the world,” Veronica pointed out.

  Both sisters laughed. “We’d all be toast,” Emma said.

  Veronica pinched her younger sister, and Olivia stepped in between them. “What Emma is trying to say is that you’re more of a free spirit. A little more. . . floaty.”

  “That isn’t even a word.”

  “Yes, it is. Don’t argue with a schoolteacher.” Holding silent, Veronica crossed her arms and huffed. This probably wasn’t the time for the lickable question. Another quick glance to the kitchen revealed Cam had been granted a reprieve. Mama was gone, and Emma’s husband, Nick, had taken her place. “Being floaty isn’t a bad thing,” Olivia continued. “It just means that you need a man who can take charge. Someone who can keep you tethered just enough so you don’t float away.”

  Not the most flattering assessment, but Veronica had to admit that Cam fit that description perfectly. Except for one tiny speed bump. None of this was real. Tomorrow she would be back to her floaty existence, and Cam would be back in his penthouse in the sky.

  * * *

  Veronica Shepherd was a liar.

  Cam hadn’t been in the Hamilton home for longer than a few minutes when the matriarch of the family cornered him and demanded his life story.

  Where did you grow up?

  How did you end up in Nashville?

  Why aren’t you with your family?

  What do you mean you don’t have family? Everyone has family.

  Instead of answering the last one, he’d complimented her home, suggesting she could give his decorator a run for her money. Angelica Redmond wouldn’t appreciate the comment, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

  In the middle of explaining how she’d chosen the particular shade of yellow on the kitchen walls, Mr. Hamilton called his wife away.

  “Rookie mistake,” said one of the brothers-in-law, who stepped up beside Cam and offered a glass of punch. “Never let Marsha corner you on the first visit.”

  Cam had never developed a taste for the fruity drink. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

  “You’ll want this. Trust me.”
He winked, and Cam caught the scent of bourbon, aware that he’d found an ally.

  Accepting the drink, he asked, “Does she do that to all of her daughters’ dates?”

  “Yep. We’re all the rookie at some point.”

  The two older kids sped through the kitchen, racing between the men on their way into the living room. The youngest chased after them, but drew to a halt in front of Cam.

  “You’re tall,” she said.

  “You’re short,” he replied.

  “I’m four,” she defended.

  “And I’m not,” Cam pointed out.

  Penelope pursed her lips and watched him with an intense glare as if assessing an opponent for battle.

  “Are you going to take Uncle Ash’s place?”

  Cam drew the line at lying to children. “No.”

  “Okay. I’m going to sit by you at dinner.”

  An odd response, but who knew the mind of a four-year-old?

  “I’m fine with that.”

  The little spitfire turned her attention to the man beside Cam. “Do you mind, Daddy?”

  Her father shook his head. “You sit by me all the time, baby. You can sit next to Mr. Cam if you want to.”

  “Good.” Without another word, she ripped into the next room, but not before leaving white fingerprints on Cam’s black pants.

  “Sorry about that,” said the man Cam now knew to be Nick. “She must have gotten into the doughnuts when no one was looking.”

  “How did your pants get dirty?” Veronica asked as she joined them. “I left you for two minutes.”

  “Penelope,” Nick replied.

  Cam wasn’t worried about his pants. “Your mother asks a lot of questions,” he said, holding her gaze.

  Her slender nose scrunched. “She does. I’m sorry.”

  “I told him we all face the Marsha firing squad in the beginning.” Nick lifted his glass in salute. “It’s a rite of passage.”

  Not for Cam it wasn’t. The woman had a right to know who her daughters were spending time with, but he didn’t share his past or his family details with anyone.

  “Lunch is ready,” Mr. Hamilton yelled from the dining room, and the crowd moved that way.

  Cam let Nick walk away before saying, “Are you okay?” Veronica had looked shell-shocked while talking with her sisters. He assumed they’d brought up her ex.

  A smile lit her face, and Cam’s chest tightened. “I am. Thank you again for doing this. The scene at the door would have been much worse if you hadn’t distracted them.”

  He hadn’t done anything but stand there. “Happy to help.”

  “Come on, you lovebirds,” Marsha called. “The food is getting cold.”

  Because he could, Cam took Veronica’s hand, then kissed her forehead. When he drew back, she looked as if he’d punched her.

  “Too much?”

  Veronica blinked. “No. No. You just surprised me.”

  “If we aren’t affectionate, this won’t be believable.”

  The smile that made his heart stutter flashed again, and she pressed against his side. “Affection is good.”

  Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, and Cam nearly forgot they weren’t alone. Moments before he bent for a kiss, someone tugged on his pant leg.

  “Come on, Mr. Cam. I saved you a seat.” Penelope stared up at him, the epitome of innocence and poor timing.

  His date giggled. A sound like nothing he’d ever heard. He wished she’d do it again.

  “I think we better go sit down,” Veronica whispered.

  “Right.”

  They followed Penelope into the dining room, and Cam took the seat to the little girl’s left, which put Nick on his other side. Veronica caught his eye as she took a seat farther down the table, offering a silent apology.

  Bowls were passed around. Mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, crescent rolls, and finally a large platter of sliced ham. Everything smelled delicious, and Cam couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a home-cooked meal. Not that he didn’t cook at home, but this was something different. Something special.

  Had the Rhodes clan ever had holiday dinners? If so, he bore no memory of them.

  “Can you butter my roll?” Penelope asked, holding out her crescent roll.

  “I’ll do that for you, baby,” Nick cut in.

  “I’ve got it.” Cam took the roll and sliced it open along the side.

  “Uncle Ash doesn’t cut it like that,” she informed him.

  He smoothed butter along the warm bread and set it back on her plate. “I’m not Uncle Ash.”

  As if this was some failing on his part, Penelope patted Cam’s arm. “That’s okay. I’ll eat it this way.”

  Nick shook his head. “Sorry. She really likes Ash.”

  Keeping an eye on Veronica at the end of the table, he said, “The ex gets mentioned a lot.”

  “We don’t really think of him as her ex. They’re one of those weird couples who stayed friends.” Nick cut into a thick piece of ham. “He’s around all the time, so he’s pretty much still part of the family.”

  If they were still friends, why did finding out he was getting married send her off on a bender?

  “How long has the divorce been final?” He’d assumed not long if this was the first Christmas the guy wasn’t here.

  Nick shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s been years.”

  Reality hit like a shot. Women had come up with a myriad of elaborate and outlandish schemes to get his attention. To say they’d tagged the most eligible bachelor in the city. Veronica had taken the subtle route, and he’d let her suck him right in. Like a goddamn idiot.

  Cam refused to make a scene. He’d eat his ham and butter a little girl’s roll, but as soon this meal ended, he was leaving.

  Chapter Five

  The kiss Cam placed on Veronica’s forehead had made her heart flutter, and when they first sat down, the looks Cam tossed her way set off flutters in other regions.

  But then something changed. The next time she glanced toward his end of the table, all expression had left his face. Stony, closed-off Cam was back, and Veronica had no idea why. She tried to enjoy her food and keep up with the conversation around her, but the distraction was too much. Would he confess the truth to her family? Make her look like even more of a loser—the unmarried daughter who had to coerce a man to pretend to be her boyfriend?

  Had Nick asked too many questions? The family ones had set him off in the car so that might be it. Or Penelope was bothering him, but she didn’t look to be paying him too much attention. She certainly wasn’t crawling all over him or anything.

  The meal wound to an end, and Veronica’s plate remained full. Cam hadn’t made eye contact once in the last twenty minutes, and from what she could tell, he was barely talking to Nick, who seemed to get the message and had directed his comments to Olivia on his other side. As chairs were pushed back from the table, the men gathered the dishes, as was the family custom. Mama had declared decades ago that if the women could make the meal, the men could clean it up. Why hadn’t she thought to warn him of this part?

  Catching on quickly, Cam gathered his own plate along with Penelope’s and the empty roll basket. Veronica opened her mouth to speak as he went by, but one harsh word cut her off.

  “Outside.”

  An incredibly rude command that flipped a switch in Veronica. So someone had pried into his precious personal life. What had he expected? This was a family gathering, and they’d let everyone believe they were dating. Make something up, for heaven’s sake. The Hamiltons were never going to see him again, so what did it matter?

  Grabbing a blanket off a living room chair, she marched through the French doors to the patio with no idea if Cam saw her go out. If he wanted to speak to her so badly, he could hunt her down.

  No hunting was necessary. He caught up before she’d even shut the door. He closed it for her and turned steely black eyes her way. “I don’t like being lied to, Ms. Shepherd.”

&nb
sp; They were being formal now? Really?

  “I haven’t lied to you.”

  “That sob story about drinking away your ex and this being your first Christmas without him. Nick let me know you’ve been divorced for years.”

  “Yes,” she replied, hugging the blanket tight around her shoulders. “So what? This is the first Christmas in ten years that he isn’t here. And if I decide to spend one night drinking away the reality that he’s replaced me with the one woman he always wished I was, that’s my prerogative.”

  Veronica held the tears back by sheer force of will. She would not cry, damn it.

  “I thought you just got divorced,” Cam growled through clenched teeth. “I felt sorry for you.”

  Those were the wrong damn words. “Well, Mr. Rhodes, you can take that pity and shove it up your ass, though you’ll have to remove the giant stick that’s in the way first.” Veronica paced away, swamped by humiliation and anger. “Not everyone is as impenetrable as you are. Some of us have feelings. We get sad and hurt and scared.”

  “Scared of what, Veronica?” His voice no longer held the heat of anger, but she was too incensed to notice.

  “I don’t want to die alone, okay? Look around. My sisters have perfect marriages with perfect children, and I’m the pathetic one. I’m the failure.” Dropping onto the wicker sofa, she dropped her head into her hands. “I’m the one who put off having kids for my career, and now I’m thirty-four, the clock is ticking, and time is running out.”

  The frozen cushion dipped as Cam sat down beside her. “Children weren’t a part of our agreement.”

  Veronica snorted and had to wipe her nose on the blanket. “I wasn’t asking for a sperm donation.”

  “That’s good. I never give those on the first date.”

  She leaned up, astonished. “You’re making jokes.”

  “Yes, I am.” Cam met her gaze. “I feel things, Veronica. Not as loudly as you do, but I feel them.” She couldn’t be sure if there was an insult in there or not. “Thirty-four isn’t old, and you aren’t going to die alone. Plus, based on the amount of liquor in Nick’s punch, and the way Olivia cringes when Chet says something inane, I doubt your sisters have perfect marriages. You need to stop judging yourself for what you aren’t, and appreciate the things that you are.”