by Mia Dymond
The Hawke household gave her a warm fuzzy feeling of home and family, something Rachel and Hawke managed to incorporate with their desire to remain rooted despite Hawke’s notoriety. Something she hoped to experience some day. Cameron sighed. Too bad she was angry with the entire male species.
Finally reaching the front door, Cameron planted an elbow firmly against the doorbell and leaned her weight against it for added effect. Soon, she heard frantic footsteps descend the stairs before Rachel threw open the door.
“Are your hands full or what?” Rachel giggled and pulled Cameron inside to unload her arms.
“Thank God you and Hawke decided to settle here in Diablo.” Cameron huffed and knocked the door closed with her foot. “I never would’ve made it across the border with all this junk.”
Much to Cameron’s relief, Diablo, Arizona, located just across the California / Arizona line, welcomed Jaydon Hawke with open arms. Although she was teasing about not making it across the border, she was immensely relieved Hawke hadn’t whisked Rachel away to some Hollywood palace. Especially since she and Rachel had become business partners the moment they both arrived in Diablo, a partnership that had become quite fruitful for both of them. With Rachel’s architectural degree and hers in interior design, they offered their clients the total package and had references a mile long to support their skills.
“You’re too good for California.” Rachel led Cameron to the living room.
Cameron plopped down on the sofa and kicked off her shoes.
“New sandals?” Rachel teased, raising an eyebrow.
Cameron nodded. “Ferragamo.”
Rachel lowered herself into a recliner opposite Cameron and cleared her throat. “I have news.”
Cameron sorted her pencils on the coffee table. “Good or bad?”
“I don’t know,” Rachel admitted.
Curious by Rachel’s tone, Cameron looked up and narrowed her eyes. “Tell me.”
“Sean’s leaving the band.”
“Why?”
“Hawke said he’s distracted.”
Cameron snorted. “Yeah, by blonde bimbo groupies.”
“What?”
“I caught him with someone else last night.” Cameron shrugged. “Max didn’t tell you?”
“No! I can’t believe you didn’t say something before now!” Rachel shrieked, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Hawke would never have set you up for that.”
“Calm down. It’s no big deal. At least I found out before I got too wrapped up in him.” Cameron shrugged again. “Besides, I had a pretty good idea of what might happen before I ever started seeing Sean in the first place.”
“Did you tell your father about the break-up?”
Cameron picked up her sketchbook. “No. Some things are in my best interest not to tell.”
“True, but I hoped things would work out between you two.”
Cameron giggled. “Your hormones are screaming, sister. Not all of us get as lucky as you, anyway.”
She glanced at Rachel’s protruding belly, living proof that happily ever afters were real. Cameron envied her, married to a rock ‘n’ roll icon who loved her endlessly and now pregnant with their first child.
She sighed with her hand over her heart. “My hero.”
“Okay, okay.” Rachel rolled her eyes at Cameron’s drama. “Tell me what you have in mind for the nursery.”
Cameron folded her legs underneath her and began sketching. “I was thinking about Camelot.”
“You mean kings, queens, dragons and knights?”
“Yeah.” Cameron’s mouth twisted wryly. “You being such a dragonslayer and all.”
“Cameron!” Rachel gasped and tossed a look over her shoulder toward the kitchen.
Cameron’s eyes widened. “Is Hawke home?”
Rachel lowered her voice. “Yes, and we agreed you’d keep the secret.”
Cameron giggled at the infamous secret. She had been awestruck when Rachel had told her about slaying the evil zipper that held Hawke captive during their initial meeting. Rachel made Cameron swear on the life of her cat she wouldn’t tell anyone.
“I won’t tell,” she promised. “I really do think the theme is appropriate.”
“I like it.” Rachel tapped her chin with her index finger. “So, Cameron,” she said, lowering herself back into the chair. “What do you think of Max?”
Cameron paused in mid-stroke and mentally licked her lips. Max. Six feet, four inches of luscious, rock-hard male.
“Paul Bunyon?” She switched pencils.
“No. Max, Hawke’s security manager.”
“Paul Bunyon,” Cameron insisted. “Why?”
“Just wondered.” Rachel flicked a nonexistent piece of fuzz from her top.
Cameron grinned. “Nuh-uh, not me, Rachel.”
“Why not? I think he likes you.”
“He likes to aggravate me.”
“Funny,” Rachel murmured, “he said the same thing about you.”
“See?” Cameron chuckled. “We aggravate each other.”
“Well, it was just a thought.”
“An outrageous thought,” Cameron agreed.
The ringing of the phone next to Rachel interrupted her response. “Hold that outrageous thought.”
Cameron picked up her purple pencil and drew a large dragon on her page. A dominating presence, its body filled the paper from top to bottom, towering above the castle she’d already drawn. With a few more strokes, she sketched the scales on his massive chest to resemble steps leading from the top of his belly to the base of his neck. She added an orange flame from his open mouth and a pair of black sunglasses on his snout.
Then she looked at the fierce knight she’d drawn earlier and giggled to herself as she picked up her yellow pencil. Several circular motions later, springy, bouncy curls peeked beneath the helmet. With one pass of her eraser over his steel-plated boots, she made one last change. Within seconds, her powerful warrior had become an independent, even more powerful, female soldier, poised to slay the fire-breathing creature - in fashionable high heels.
“Send her up,” Rachel said before disconnecting and hanging up the phone.
Cameron tore the page from her sketchbook and tucked it in the back cover of her portfolio inside her bag. Rachel probably wouldn’t appreciate that particular cartoon on the nursery walls.
“My drill sergeant is on the way,” Rachel told her.
Cameron giggled. “Did you call Holly?”
Rachel nodded. “She’s taught me several new breathing techniques. I’ll have to admit, yoga is a nice break from Pilates.”
“Personally, I don’t know how you do it, Rach. The last time I took one of Holly’s Pilates classes I couldn’t move for a week.”
Rachel smiled and patted her stomach. “What’s the difference? I can hardly move now.”
Cameron rolled her eyes as the doorbell rang. “Sit. I’ll get it.”
Cameron opened the door to find Holly standing there with her usual bubbly smile and several plastic yoga mats in her arms.
“Hi, Holly, come on in.” She waved Holly through the open door. “Rachel’s in the recliner.”
“Hi, Cameron. Are you going to stay and exercise? I brought an extra mat.”
“Thanks anyway, but not today,” Cameron answered over her shoulder as they approached the living room.
“Holly!” Rachel smiled and pushed out of the recliner. “Thanks for coming.”
“No problem.” Holly laid the plastic mats on the carpet in front of the sofa. “It’s nice to get out of the gym once in a while.”
Cameron giggled inwardly and plopped back down on the couch. Holly’s perfectly proportioned body proved she rarely left the gym. In fact, if she and Holly were not neighbors and friends, Cameron might be intimidated.
“By the way, Rachel,” Holly said as she helped Rachel to the floor, “did you get a new security guard at the gate?”
“No, why?” Rachel stretched her legs in front of her.
Holly sat beside Rachel. “The guy down there today is definite eye candy.”
Cameron frowned. “Who’s working the gate?”
Rachel’s eyes twinkled as she answered. “Max.”
“Oh, brother,” Cameron murmured.
“Was he not down there when you came in?” Rachel asked Cameron.
“No.”
“Obviously, I’m missing something about this Max.” Holly raised Rachel’s arms. “Lean left.”
“Oh, there’s something about him all right,” Cameron grumbled as she tossed her sketchbook and pencils into her bag. “He’s a bully.”
Holly cocked her head and stared at Cameron for a brief second. “You don’t say.”
Rachel coughed.
Holly grinned and pushed Rachel to the other side. “Well, bully or not, he’s hot.”
“I’ve gotta go, girls.” Cameron stood from the sofa and then bent to give Rachel a hug. “I have an appointment, but I’ll leave the fabric samples for you.”
Rachel returned Cameron’s hug. “Call me later.”
Holly laid a hand on Cameron’s forearm. “Maybe you shouldn’t go alone.”
Cameron frowned again. “Why?”
Holly cleared her throat and gave a half smile. “I just worry about you. We single girls have to keep tabs on each other.”
“Thanks, Holly, but I’ll be fine.” Cameron straightened and headed for the door. “And Rachel, please go lie down after you exercise. I think pregnancy has made you temporarily insane.”
Cameron replayed her conversation with Rachel as she drove down the driveway. She and Max? She twisted her lips in consideration. She’d be a fool to deny her physical attraction to him. After all, he was a quite impressive mountain of male.
Pure, rugged, rock-hard male. But he was so controlling. She enjoyed being a free spirit and wasn’t about to let anyone, especially Max, harness her. Besides, he considered her just another groupie. And the last time she checked, bodyguards and groupies didn’t mix.
Expecting the iron gate to open as she approached, Cameron frowned when it remained closed. Curious, she stopped her car and lowered the window. She waited several seconds, clicking her fingernails against the steering wheel and anticipating the opening of the gate. Growing increasingly impatient, she picked up her cell phone to call Rachel just as Max stepped from the security building beside the gate and ambled toward her.
Unable to stop it, Cameron’s gaze traveled the length of him and gave an appreciative perusal of his massive, muscled biceps and tight, toned midsection under his black t-shirt. And lower between his legs, the obvious bulge confined by his snug black jeans made her want to slobber like a rabid dog.
Eye candy. For sure.
She took a deep breath to slow her heartbeat as he appeared at the car window.
“You have ID?” he drawled with a smirk.
“Funny. Open the gate.”
“You’re not logged in as a visitor.”
“I have clearance.”
Max shook his head. “Nobody told me.”
“Not my problem. Open the gate. I have an appointment and you’re making me late.”
“You’re always late.”
Distracting her temper, Cameron remembered her earlier sketch of the nursery. “Look, Puff the Magic Dragon, either open the gate or I’ll do it myself.”
He lifted an eyebrow over his sunglasses. “Give me the password.”
Cameron sighed and unbuckled her seatbelt. Why must he push me? She threw open the door and Max grunted as it smacked him in his iron stomach. With her heels click-clacking against the pavement, she walked to the guard shack, opened the door, and punched a button on the wall. As the gate creaked, she passed him with her best syrupy smile and got back in the car. He gave her a slight smirk and motioned her through.
Cameron tossed her curls over her shoulder and dismissed her absurd thoughts of the mysterious Max as she drove through the neighborhood toward her own house. After parking sideways in her driveway, she ran through the front door, only to be slowed by the one stable thing in her very hectic life, her overweight, spoiled, finicky cat. The only male she thoroughly trusted. Purring loudly, he rubbed himself against her legs and welcomed her home.
“Don’t get too excited,” she warned, bending to pick him up. “I’m only here for a minute.”
Cameron toted the cat through the house as she gathered supplies, stroking his back and cooing gently in his ear. Cracking the patio door leading to the backyard, she noticed a family of sparrows bathing in the shallow end of the swimming pool. Unfortunately, he saw them too and squeezed through the crack to welcome his guests.
“Wonderful,” she grumbled while she followed him out the door.
The sparrows sensed their host immediately and took flight into a large oak tree. Determined to catch them, the cat hooked his claws into the bark and climbed after them. The sparrows tittered at him before finally soaring into the bright sunny sky. As if panicked, he looked down at Cameron and meowed.
“No way, Mister,” she scolded. “You got up there all by yourself. Now you can get down all by yourself.”
She settled into the nearest lounge chair and waited for him to run down the tree. Ten minutes later, she still waited and he still meowed. Cameron bit her lip. Maybe he really is stuck. She glanced at her watch then tilted her head to look up into the tree. A thin sheen of sweat broke out on her brow. She had two options - climb the tree or call for help - both of which made her ill. Still, she could do this. Only for him.
“Okay, you naughty cat.” She reached down to remove her sandals. “I’ll get you down.”
Cameron glanced around the yard to make sure she didn’t have an audience before she padded barefoot across the lawn, grabbed a bottom branch of the tree, and looped one leg around. With a death grip on the thick branch, she felt her short skirt ease up her legs to hug her waist. No way would she let go and besides, it was too late to worry about her minuscule red lace panties flashing like a stoplight in the sunshine. Swinging herself to straddle the branch, she looked up to see the fat cat eyeing her mischievously.
“You sure got quiet all of a sudden.”
The lazy beast responded by licking his paws and yawning before he stretched out on the branch.
“Sure, get comfortable,” she huffed, reaching for the next branch.
Once seated on that branch, Cameron made the one fatal mistake she knew she shouldn’t. Looking down. She groaned as her head spun and her vision blurred. Taking a deep breath to quiet her rolling stomach, she once again looked up at the overhead branch and tried to inject authority into her voice. “Come here, Kitty.”
Obeying her, the cat pushed himself off the branch and easily stepped from branch to branch until he reached Cameron’s branch. And then nonchalantly passed her, tossing his tail in mockery. Within seconds he left the tree, stretched out in the grass, and licked his paws.
Cameron stared in horror. This did not just happen. She swallowed hard and attempted to quell her fear as her panicked eyes gauged the distance between solid ground and her position in the tree. A feeling of relief swept over her as she remembered her cell phone. She slid her hand into the pocket of her skirt only to find it empty. As if psychic, the cat growled. The phone rang. Inches from his paws.
* * *
After shift change at the gate, Max headed for the main house to report to Hawke. He snickered. Who was he kidding? There wasn’t anything to report, other than Cameron’s antics. Puff the Magic Dragon? Where in the hell had she come up with that one? Although she tried so hard to aggravate him, she was harmless. In fact, he found her game stimulating. Most of the time.
He approached the front door, punched the security code and stepped inside before re-arming the system. As much as he hated to admit it, he might just miss her if she wasn’t around.
Since Hawke’s marriage to Rachel, super stardom had taken a back seat to reality. According to Hawke, rock and roll just didn’t pack th
e same punch as it once did. And since the whole fame and fortune began as an undercover gig, Hawke didn’t think twice about fading out of it. In fact, rather than tour the world and live the high life, Hawke had settled into somewhat of a normal lifestyle. As normal as could be expected, anyway. There was still the occasional unexpected visitor who attempted to scale the gate around the property or determined reporter trying to make a quick buck from the tabloids, but those things were easily handled by the expert security team Max had in place.
He smiled as he headed to the living room. It would be nice to hang out without the threat of being mauled by overzealous groupies.
“Hey, man.” Hawke sat with his feet propped on an ottoman in front of the couch. The 3D television blared a baseball game.
Max sat in an oversized recliner opposite him. “Who’s winning?”
“Diamondbacks, six to four.”
“Good game?”
Hawke nodded. “Decent. The team’s pretty good this year.”
Max cleared his throat. “Did Huntington corner Pirelli last night?”
Hawke snickered. “You know Greg. He tried to keep it business-like. Guess that’s why he’s the manager. I voted for a swift kick in the ass.”
“How’d Pirelli take his reassignment?”
“After a few choice words, amazingly well.”
“How big of a hurry are you in to replace him?” Max asked.
“Not a big one. Greg’s working on a replacement for the Professionals for People concert and then we’ll go from there.”
“Rachel still doesn’t want to reschedule the concert?”
“No. She insists everything go as planned.”
Max swallowed his argument. He knew it wouldn’t do any good to challenge Rachel’s determination when it came to her charity. She and the other business professionals in Diablo spent a lot of time rebuilding needy communities. She’d just flash him her regular sweet-as-honey smile and put him in his place. Or sic Cameron on him.