by Mia Dymond
No doubt. Cameron paused, astonished at the sense of fulfillment she felt by her admission. Although the epiphany was dredged from a place beyond logic and reason, she found the thought very satisfying.
Cameron flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Can you believe the two of us actually get along?”
Rachel nodded. “I see the way he looks at you, Cameron.”
Cameron shrugged in mock resignation. “He thinks he’s so smooth.”
“Thank goodness he’s got you to keep him in line, huh?” Rachel teased.
Cameron rolled her eyes and turned back to the mural on the wall. “Okay, Dragonslayer, do you want a zipper painted on this knight’s armor?”
* * *
Max took a deep breath, adjusted his sunglasses and prepared for battle before he entered the recording studio. If Huntington and Hawke even sensed his uneasiness, it was over. They’d never let him live it down. Turning the doorknob, he stepped through the doorway, strangely comforted when he saw Huntington sprawled over the leather sofa.
“What’s with him?” he asked Hawke.
Hawke shook his head. “I haven’t gotten that far. He hobbled in here and passed out before I could ask.”
“Nothing,” Huntington said behind closed eyes.
“Are you wasted?” Max asked pointedly.
“I wish,” Huntington mumbled, grimacing as he opened his eyes and boosted himself upright. “I enrolled in a Pilates class at Fitness in the Buff.”
Hawke’s mouth fell open. “You did what? You don’t even live here.”
“Huntington,” Max drawled, “you don’t even live in Arizona.”
Huntington groaned. “I’m here a lot.”
Hawke leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands behind his head. “He saw Holly at the house last week.”
Huntington ran a hand across his forehead and then flinched at his sudden movement. “Holly teaches the class.”
Max looked at Huntington and shook his head. “You must’ve been desperate.”
“Screw you,” Huntington muttered.
“Rachel says her class is tough,” Hawke said. “I take it she’s right.”
Huntington squinted one eye. “Your wife takes that class?”
“Yeah. On Tuesdays.”
Huntington moaned. “Holly’s a shark.”
“Just your type.” Max pushed off the wall. “Where’s the drummer? I can’t stay all night. Duty calls.”
“He should be here any minute.” Huntington eased himself off the sofa and moaned again as he stood. “I’ll go call him.”
Max sat in a vacant chair. “Stop whining, Huntington.”
“Bite me.” Huntington snarled as he left the studio and slammed the door behind him.
“So.” Hawke swiveled his chair to face Max. “How’s Cameron?”
Max’s humor at Huntington’s pain faded when he realized the radar was now pointed straight at him. Damn. “She’s fine.”
“Fine?” Hawke prompted.
“Yes,” Max said shortly. “Fine.”
Hawke tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “You fell in love with her, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” Max exhaled a heavy breath, removed his shades and ran his hand over the top of his head. “You’re a bad influence.”
“Congratulations,” Hawke said with a smug grin, “welcome to the suckers’ club.”
“I’m not taking out a lifetime membership. Just a visitor’s pass.”
“I never thought I’d say this, but she’s good for you, Max. Just keep an open mind, and don’t blow it. What about Stone?”
“He’s been too damn quiet.”
“Think he’s moved on?”
“No. He’s here, I just don’t know where.”
“Has Steele found anything?”
“Other than finding Holly sunbathing nude in her backyard, he’s checking out the lead on Calvin Thomas that Huntington gave us.”
“Holly sunbathes naked?”
“Yes.”
Hawke’s eyes widened. “No kidding?”
“No.”
“Do you have proof?”
Realizing there was no delicate way out of this, Max answered honestly. “I saw her from Cameron’s upstairs window.”
“Does Cameron know you saw Holly?”
“Damn, Hawke! Yes, she hung a shade.”
“Bummer. Maybe we should tell Greg.”
“Believe me when I say that would not be a good idea.” Max quickly changed the subject while he could. “What about your phone calls?”
“None since we changed the number. Rachel suggested we disconnect the house phone, but I told her 911 could get here faster from the home number.”
At the squeak of the doorknob, Max shot Hawke a warning glare before he threw his sunglasses back on his face.
Huntington limped back inside and propped himself against a wall. “He’s on his way. You know, it’s going to be harder than we thought to replace Pirelli. Maybe we should -” He glanced at Hawke. “What happened while I was gone?”
“Max is in love,” Hawke drawled.
“With who?” he asked.
“Cameron.”
Huntington’s eyes flew open. “Cameron? Rachel’s Cameron?”
Hawke nodded.
“Man, Sterling, you must really have brass balls.” Huntington shook his head in disgust. “You guys are so doomed.”
“Us?” Hawke lifted an eyebrow. “We weren’t the ones stupid enough to take a Pilates class. For a woman. In Arizona.”
“Maybe not,” Huntington agreed, “but I’m not in love with her.”
“Yet,” Max stated calmly.
“Oh, no,” Huntington denied vehemently. “Don’t pull me in on this mess.”
“Face it, Huntington,” Max said, standing to answer a knock at the door. “You’re next.”
Max opened the door to find Cameron poised in the opening, a sexy smile on her glowing face. His body heated and he hardened. Silently, he cursed his reaction. Again? How could one little smile pack so much punch, snapping his practiced self discipline?
“Are you guys finished yet? Rachel’s hungry.”
He pulled the door shut and took her into his arms. Screw self discipline. “I feel her pain.”
She molded her thighs to his groin. “I don’t think you’re in pain, Pinocchio.”
He brushed a gentle kiss across her pouty lips. “We’re still waiting.”
“Do you have to grill him?” she asked, trailing her index finger down the front of his chest.
He groaned at her tender touch while his erection sought the warmth between her legs.
“No.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ll search him online.”
She giggled as he braided their fingers and turned to open the door.
“I’m leaving,” he told Hawke and Huntington. “Call me with a social and date of birth. Tell him I’m too old for funny business and that Cameron is off limits.”
Max listened to the wheels in Cameron’s brain squeak in the silence as they drove across town. Her guarded silence warned him of an impending battle, one in which there would be casualties. Namely him. Armed with a white flag, he hoisted her from the truck and nudged her inside the house.
“I’ve been thinking about your aversion to relationships, Max,” she said as he disarmed the security system.
Anticipating her direct attack, he pocketed the white flag and closed the door behind them. Determined to distract her, he folded himself onto the sofa and pulled her next to him. With a small sigh, she laid her head on his shoulder.
“No,” he stated flatly.
Her body visibly tensed. He mentally crossed his fingers and hoped for the best. Soon her back would arch and claws would spring from her fingertips.
“So, now that you’ve had me, you’re ready to move on,” she continued thickly.
Her words froze him in his tracks. Move on? Was she crazy? No way in hell would he ever be able to move on. He might have expecte
d to at one time, but not now. Never.
“No,” he repeated with quiet emphasis.
She raised her head and frowned. “No what?”
“We are not going to discuss this.”
“Yes, we are.”
“No, we’re not.” He purposely made his voice cold and exact. “End of discussion.”
Several curls slapped his cheek as she shook her head in defiance. “I don’t think so, Macho Man. You told me you love me.”
“I do love you.” More than life itself.
“I need to know what’s going to happen after you catch Vince.”
“I don’t know.”
He felt her body heat the space between them. “Sex?” she said flippantly.
Encouraged by her sarcasm, he began to relax. Anger, he could handle. “If you’re game.”
“That’s all?”
As soon as the question left her mouth, Max knew his answer was not what she wanted. With his heart aching, he shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“You’re not willing to share your heart with me,” she concluded softly.
He hunched over, rested his arms on his thighs, and exhaled a sharp breath before he raised his head to look at her. “Damn, Cameron, do not make me do this.”
She flinched at his use of her name. “I want to understand.”
“Do you? Or are you looking for ammunition?”
She stood, obviously hurt by the bitter anger in his voice. Unspoken pain flickered in her eyes as though he had belted her.
“Just forget it.” She turned and headed toward the kitchen.
Curses flew from his mouth as he stood and grabbed her forearm. “Wait.”
Cameron paused, shell-shocked by Max’s response. Although he was bossy by nature, his last order was almost a plea. Curiosity forced her to tamper her hurt and turn around.
With a tip of his head, he motioned her to the couch beside him.
She lowered herself back into the cushions next to him, amazed at why he allowed her to break him. Something cautioned her not to ask.
Max removed his sunglasses and tossed them to the coffee table. Cupping her chin, he searched her upturned face.
“Why is this so important to you?” he asked, caressing her cheek with the knuckle of his forehand.
She leaned lightly into his touch, her troubled spirits temporarily quieted.
“I have to know it’s not me,” she answered honestly.
A faint glint of humor winked at her from the depths of his tormented eyes.
“It’s not you.”
She closed her eyes for a split second, momentarily relieved. When she opened them, he touched her cheek in a wistful gesture.
“I watched my father die of a broken heart,” he explained. “He made the fatal mistake of granting my mother exclusive ownership. When she died, he buried his heart with her.”
Pain squeezed her heart as compassion flooded her. His reluctance had nothing to do with controlling a woman. Instead, he wasn’t convinced of his expert self control. Oddly, she understood. Even though she was willing to risk her heart to love, she kept a tight rein on her vulnerability. That part of her was not for hire. I won’t break your heart, Max. She fought herself from blurting the reassurance as she kissed him softly on the cheek and stood to extend a hand.
“Enough talk, Loverboy, let’s go to bed.”
She witnessed the fight leave his eyes as he accepted her outstretched hand. With the air cleared between them, she knew time was now her new best friend. Confident, she’d made progress, she led him to the bedroom, loving him more with each footstep.
* * *
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
After she rested peacefully throughout the night, Cameron was convinced the morning would be equally peaceful, until she told Max she wanted to work alone. She watched him walk the section of carpet behind the sofa to the front door and back again for the thousandth time.
“Max,” she huffed. “If I knew you were going to throw such a hissy fit, I wouldn’t have told you.”
He paused long enough to growl under his breath then picked up where he left off.
“I’ll be just fine.” She touched her fingers to her temples to quell the dizziness from his pacing. “I’ve got to get some work done. Besides, Rachel will be with me.”
“Rachel isn’t much bigger than you, Short Stuff.”
She beckoned him with a crook of her finger. “Come here.”
He quit pacing and sat down beside her.
“Now,” she began patiently, “I know you want to protect me, but you can’t do that forever.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I can.”
She pressed one pink polished nail over his lips. “I won’t let him win.”
His silence almost convinced her Max understood her need to leave him behind. Until he spoke. “Rachel’s pregnant.”
“The house is two miles away!” she squealed, throwing her hands in the air.
He reached to wind his fingers through her side curls. “You really want to go alone don’t you?”
“Yes. I need to maintain some sense of normalcy for my own sanity.”
He yanked a curl before dropping his hand. “You’re not sane.”
She smiled at his gentle teasing. “I must not be to keep you around.”
The ringing telephone saved her from his next jab at sanity. She picked it up and glanced at the caller ID. Max cleared his throat.
Cameron laid a hand on his forearm. “Relax, it’s Holly.”
Max nodded and eased back against the couch.
“Hi, Holly.”
“Hey, Cameron. Are you busy?”
Cameron glanced at Max and raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I was just on my way out.”
“Alone?”
The concern in Holly’s voice made Cameron frown. “No, Rachel and I are supposed to finish a house today.”
A small silence captured the conversation.
“Holly, is everything okay?”
Holly sighed. “Yes. I just called to ask a huge favor. One of my aerobics instructors can’t teach his classes today and I wondered if you’d fill in.”
Cameron checked her watch, amazed by Holly’s phone call. Very rarely did Holly ask for help.
“What time?”
“The first one is in thirty minutes. The other two are later this afternoon.”
“Tell you what. If you can find someone else for the morning, I’ll take the two afternoon classes.”
Another tense silence fell over the line.
“Holly?”
“Oh, sorry. I was just thinking. Are you sure you can’t teach the morning class? It’s a beginner class and a lot less stressful.”
Cameron bit her lip. Why was Holly so persistent? “I’ve already given Rachel the extra hour she needs to get ready.”
Holly’s lighthearted giggle soothed Cameron’s guilt. “Say no more. Thanks anyway. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
Cameron placed the phone back on the table, still curious about Holly’s call.
“Well?” Max prompted.
“She asked to teach a few aerobics classes today.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me. You’d probably be safer at the gym.”
“I agreed to teach this afternoon.”
“Why don’t you and Rachel reschedule?”
Cameron pinned him with a pointed glare. “What is it about interior decorating that upsets you people?”
“You people?”
She shook her head. “Holly nearly insisted I teach the morning class.”
“Why?”
“I have no idea, but you heard me. I can teach after Rachel and I are finished.”
His lips trembled as his eyes held hers for a brief second. “You’ll go straight there and straight home.”
She lifted her chin. “I’ll let that order slide because I know you’re worried.”
He captured her wrist with his fingers. “Promise.”
“Okay! Geez, Max, str
aight there and straight home.”
“Do the doors have locks?”
She nodded. “The structure is completely finished. We’re working on the inside.”
His thumb caressed the back of her hand as she waited for his next ultimatum, most likely something to do with mace or eye-jabbing.
“On one condition,” he said finally.
Of course. She attempted to distract him. “You’re obsessed with your head rub.”
A sly smile replaced his scowl. “That’s not the condition.”
“What then?”
He drew her into his arms and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear.
“I want to ring your bell once before you leave.”
When Cameron finally managed to extract herself from Max’s hold, she was twenty minutes late. Luckily, Rachel wasn’t keeping time. Cameron glanced casually into her rear view mirror as she weaved her Lexus in and out of traffic, and grinned mischievously as she accelerated.
“Look who we have here, Rachel,” she sang. “The invisible man is following us.”
Rachel leaned forward and glanced into the side mirror. “I thought you said he agreed to let us go alone.”
“He lied.” Cameron changed lanes again.
Rachel leaned back against her seat. “He’s just concerned.”
Cameron pointed at the department store swiftly approaching. “Look! Bergmann’s is having a shoe sale!”
Rachel turned and winked. “Should we?”
“Oh, we should,” Cameron answered matter-of-factly, already steering into the parking lot.
Cameron shifted the car into park and turned off the engine. She walked to the passenger side and waited patiently for Rachel to unbuckle, then offered a hand.
“Need a boost?”
Rachel smiled and accepted Cameron’s help. “Thanks. What about Max?”
Cameron set the car alarm and they headed inside. “What about him?”
“Do you think he’ll come in?”
Cameron almost laughed out loud at Rachel’s question, but caught herself. Max’s position as bodyguard for Hawke and Rachel was a whole different matter. He guarded them as a matter of life and death. He guarded her … well, because he loved her. Cameron’s heart swelled at that thought. As much as she loved him in return, he would just have to accept her independence.