by Skylar Hill
“I’ve got a delivery for you two,” said the woman, carrying in several large bags and setting them on the rolling tray at the end of Evie’s bed. She looked over at the sisters. “I’m Sue. James wanted to make sure you two didn’t go hungry.”
“He sent breakfast?” Evie crowed. “Wow, Cam, you must’ve made an impression.”
“Evie!” Cam hissed, her cheeks heating.
“I would say she did,” said Sue. “He also asked me to give you these,” she pulled out two bouquets, one of tulips, and the other of poppies. “Tulips are for Evie, poppies are for you.”
Cam reached out, taking the flowers from her. Her fingers trailed over the soft petals, the paper the flowers were wrapped in crinkling against her skirt. For a moment, all she could think of was his fingers tracing the tattoo on her thigh, how it’d made her shiver, but press into his touch at the same time.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“He didn’t know what you liked, so he got one of everything,” Sue said. “And he ordered a few dozen pastries for the nurses. He’s a sweet one, your guy.”
“He’s not my guy,” Cam protested.
Sue snorted. “Darling, that boy debated over what flowers to buy for at least ten minutes. If he isn’t your guy, he wants to be. I say go for it. He’s one of the good ones.” She winked at them. “You girls have a nice day,” she called as she walked out of the room.
“I think she’s gonna come back and hit you with a cast iron skillet if you don’t, like, marry him,” Evie commented, reaching over and digging into one of the bags. “Ooh, hash browns. You should totally marry him.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” Cam said, getting up and grabbing the rest of the food, beginning to arrange it around the bed for easy access. It smelled amazing: omelets and pancakes and French toast with strawberries, crisp bacon and sausage that Evie reached over and grabbed, popping into her mouth.
“So what does he do?” Evie asked.
“He’s a tattoo artist, too,” Cam said.
“Well, at least he’ll understand you,” Evie said. “You should text him. Thank him for breakfast. Send him kiss emojis.”
“Evie, stop it,” Cam said as her sister snickered.
“You’re just so easy to tease,” Evie said. “But really. Text him.”
“Not right now. Eat your food. And then I want you to rest before the pain meds start wearing off.”
“Don’t let them give me anymore, okay?”
Cam frowned. “Sweetie, you need to manage your pain. You just had surgery.”
“I don’t like them. They remind me of all the times before. It’s bad enough being in the hospital, okay?” Her sister’s voice cracked a little, and Cam bit her lip. She knew what Evie was feeling; she hated hospitals too. She hated all the memories they evoked. She knew all to well that fuzzy, drugged feeling that masked the physical but did nothing for the emotional.
“Okay,” Cam said. “I’ll talk the doctor about lowering your dose as much as they can.”
“And we get to go home tomorrow?”
“Yes. As soon as they say you can, we’re out of here.”
Evie let out a relieved breath. “Good,” she said. “Now give me some of that omelet.”
Later, after Evie had fallen back asleep, Cam crept outside to check her phone and get some fresh air.
She desperately needed a shower, she thought absently as she breathed in the crisp air and pulled her phone out of her purse. There were three text messages, one from Lydia, and two from her boss.
Dread in her stomach, she tapped on the ones from Scott.
Really don’t appreciate having to open today. Be here tomorrow, or we’re going to have a talk.
Cam pressed her lips together, breathing hard. “Asshole,” she muttered, tapping on Lydia’s message.
OMG I WANT DETAILS ABOUT YOU AND JAY. TEXT ME BACK!!!!!
Lydia’s excessive use of exclamation points made her smile, but she didn’t text back immediately. Instead, she pulled up her contacts and pressed on James’s name.
It took him three rings to pick up.
“How are you?” he asked, and it was odd, that the lack of greeting would make her feel so warm. Like hellos and goodbyes were irrelevant, because each day ended with each other anyway.
“I wanted to thank you,” she said. “For the breakfast.”
“I can send dinner, too.”
“That’s very nice. But we’ll be okay, I think.”
“I know I may have gone a little overboard,” he said. “But I didn’t think to ask Lydia what you liked, when she told me which restaurant.”
So that was how Lydia knew about the two of them. Cam shook her head ruefully. “It was very sweet of you.”
Any other time, she would say it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her. But he had gotten Evie a surgeon at the crack of dawn with one phone call, and that beat everything.
“You deserve someone being sweet to you, Cam,” he said, and that deep rumble was back in his voice, the one that made her shiver, that made her eyes drift shut. She could almost feel his fingertips against the plush skin of her hips as he pushed into her. She clenched her legs together, trying to breathe normally.
Her phone buzzed again, and she looked down. It was another text from Scott, asking if she’d gotten his first text. She sighed.
“What’s wrong?” James asked.
“Nothing,” she said immediately.
“Come on, now,” he said and she could feel something unravel inside her. It had been so long since she’d had someone who truly understood. Lydia was great, but she didn’t get the tattoo world. She was plenty creative in her own way, but she wasn’t an artist.
But James… he understood. He had her art on his body; the idea of it still made her flush, a strange possessiveness rising in her.
“My boss is a jerk,” she blurted out. “He’s furious I couldn’t open the studio today, and I’m going to have to do it tomorrow, even though I really don’t want to leave Evie so soon. You saw how she is on pain meds—she’ll probably light my apartment on fire because she decides candles are really pretty.”
There was a pause, and for a second she wondered if she overstepped.
“Scott’s an asshole,” James said. “And a hack artist. He’s threatened by you. He hasn’t had an original idea in a decade, and his brand is weaker because of it. You’re better than him, Cam. And he knows it. So he treats you like shit so you don’t realize you’re the best goddamn thing in that place.”
The faith in his words, the unshakeable, matter-of-fact way he said it, like it was true, no matter what she thought, was remarkable to her. It made her feel like she was glowing from the inside, sparkling bright like fresh snow at sunrise.
“And if you absolutely have to go in tomorrow, I can hang out with Evie while you’re at work,” he said.
“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she protested.
“You didn’t ask, I offered,” he said.
“But—“
“Cam,” he said softly. “Let me help you. Everyone needs a little help sometimes.”
She’d been lone-wolfing it for so long. It had been forever since anyone had offered her help—and usually it came with all sorts of conditions and repercussions. But she knew he wouldn’t do that. She knew he would show up when he said he would, every time, and never do anything to betray her trust.
He was a man who kept his word.
“I’ll check with Evie,” she said. “I really should go. I’ve got to text Scott back.”
“Don’t let him get to you,” James said. “There are better things to come for you. I know it.”
She smiled. “From your lips to God’s ears,” she said. “Bye, James.”
“Bye.”
Chapter Eleven
James
The next morning, James found himself in Cam’s living room, Evie laid out on the couch like some sort of Victorian lady in the midst of a fainting fit, papers
strewn all over the blankets.
The apartment was small and in a bad neighborhood, but Cam was the type of person who made the best out of a situation. The place was carefully decorated, with little touches all over that spoke of her creativity and attention to detail. The accent walls were sponge-painted in a series of blues and greens, making the living room feel like you were living in a Monet. The delicate lace curtains in the windows were clearly hand-sewn, likely appropriated from thrift-store tablecloths and turned into something new and fresh.
She was handy, his girl.
There was also a skylight—probably the reason she rented this place—the weather in Portland meant a lot of cloudy days, but whatever sunlight there was would stream through the ceiling, brightening the living room. Perfect for an artist.
Cam had already left before he arrived, sending him a harried text message about Scott needing her to come in early to prep all the stations—God, James wanted to kick that guy’s ass. This was no way to treat a good employee in the midst of a family emergency. So he’d hurried over to Cam’s apartment, only to find Evie already awake and bustling—or rather, limping awkwardly—around the apartment.
“Lie down,” was the first thing he said when she opened the door for him.
“Oh, my God, she got you to babysit me?” Evie asked, smiling knowingly as she hobbled back to the couch, throwing herself on it.
“I see you remember me,” he said.
“Of course I remember you,” Evie scoffed.
“You were pretty loopy the other night,” he said, watching as she began shuffling through the papers on the couch. “You have a lot of homework?”
“Psh, homework’s boring,” Evie said. “This is interesting. These are the new windmill specs that were just leaked from Green Valley Industries.”
James frowned. “What?”
“Green Valley Industries? The big renewable energy company?”
“I know what it is,” James said. “My brother runs it.”
Evie’s jaw dropped. “Wait, you’re a McGowan? You’re Aiden McGowan’s brother?”
“I am,” James said, pulling his phone out. If someone had leaked the company’s designs, Aiden was going to be apoplectic.
“Where are you?” Aiden said, not even bothering with a greeting as he picked up on the first ring.
“I’m at a friend’s. Have you seen—“
“Give me the address,” Aiden said, in that clipped, no-nonsense voice that reminded him of a drill sergeant. “We need to talk.”
James knew his brother was in no mood for arguments when he took on that tone, so he gave Aiden the address.
“Looks like we’re going to have a visitor,” he told Evie.
“Aiden McGowan is coming here?” she practically shrieked. “Oh, my God. I have to text Jess!’
James frowned. “You’re acting like he’s the member of a boy band.”
“He invented an electric car battery that isn’t super expensive and it holds the charge and lasts longer than anything else on the market. He personally funded two different projects last year that were longlisted for the Nobel. He contributed ideas to the team that’s 3-D printing actual synthetic heart valves. A boy bander? Your brother is a freaking science rock star.”
“He’ll be so pleased he has fans,” James said with a wry grin.
“I mean, he totally screwed up with the wind turbines,” Evie shrugged. “But you gotta give a guy a few passes—even a genius like him.”
“I don’t think the turbine specs getting leaked were his fault,” James said.
“Oh, not the leak,” Evie said. “The turbine design itself. It’s flawed.”
James raised an eyebrow, about to ask her what she meant, but there was a knock at the door.
“Today has been a shit show,” Aiden said, storming into the room, his shoulders tense, but his face controlled. “I’m getting all new security, top to bottom. And I’m suing the last firm we hired.”
“Nice to see you, too,” James said, nodding toward Evie pointedly, who was looking like she was about to vibrate, she was so excited.
Aiden looked over to her, then frowned at James. “What are you doing here?”
“He’s unnecessarily watching me because my sister’s afraid I’m going to set her apartment on fire in a Vicodin-induced haze,” Evie said cheerfully. “And he really likes my sister. He’s trying to impress her so hard. He’s pulling out all the stops. He sent the entire breakfast menu from her favorite cafe over yesterday.”
James could feel himself turning a little red, and he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans as Aiden grinned at him, momentarily distracted from his problems. “You met someone?” he asked.
“Is there anyone in my life who isn’t a giant gossip?” James groaned.
“Do you want me to continue yelling about the leaked specs?” Aiden asked.
“Well, according to Evie, you shouldn’t be too broken up,” James said.
“According to…” Aiden zeroed in on Evie. “And why’s that ?” he demanded.
Evie gulped, and James was about to call Aiden off when she took a deep breath and seemed to grow a few inches as she leveled a look at him. “The math is off,” she said.
“Really,” Aiden said skeptically.
“It starts out good,” Evie explained. “The design is amazing. I’m betting that’s all you, right?”
Aiden nodded.
“Okay, but your engineers went all kablooey when it came to calculating the yaw and wind velocity,” she sighed when Aiden’s face grew even more skeptical, reaching over and grabbing a notebook off the mirrored coffee-table next to the couch. “Pen,” she said in a bored voice, snapping her fingers at James.
He handed her a pen, trying not to laugh as she scribbled a series of equations down and tore the paper off, handing it to Aiden. “That’s what your people have,” she said. “The propellers will go too fast in strong winds. The wear and tear will have you replacing them every few months. It’ll end up costing you a fortune. But this…” she trailed off for a second, finishing a second set of equations and then tossing him the notebook. “This is what will actually make them work. So really, you should be thanking the hacker. Because when your competition starts developing from the leaked specs, they’re gonna end up doing a lot of maintenance on those things.”
Aiden looked down at the paper silently and the notebook, his frown deepening as he worked out the equations, comparing them. A long pause followed, and then he glanced up at her. “You’re smart,” he said.
“So they tell me,” Evie answered with a grin.
“You just saved me several million dollars.”
Her grin widened. “I like fancy chocolate if you want to show your appreciation.”
“How about a job?” Aiden asked.
Evie’s eyes bugged out in surprise. “I… kind of have class,” she said.
“You’re not done with school? What’s your major? Where are you going? Why aren’t you at MIT or PolyTech or Stanford?”
“Aiden, don’t interrogate her,” James said. “She’s had a tough night.”
“Ignore him,” Evie said, leaning forward. “I’m in my final year. I’m doing a double major in Computer and Environmental Science. I didn’t want to leave Portland, plus I was able to design my own curriculum here.”
There was another knock on the door, and James kept one eye on the two of them, bonding over their mutual geekdom, and opened it. Jess, Evie’s friend from the other night, was standing there, looking like Christmas, her birthday, and everything she’d ever wanted in her life had all happened at once.
“Oh. My. God,” she said when she caught sight of Aiden.
“I told you!” Evie said.
James rolled his eyes good-naturedly and, leaving Aiden with his fans, ventured deeper into Cam’s apartment. Her little kitchen was neat and orderly, a chipped white enamel kettle on the 1950s stove, the countertops free of clutter save for a few appliances and a set of cerami
c measuring cups shaped like cats. He leaned against the counter and dialed Cam’s number.
“Hello?” she asked.
He straightened immediately, the strain in her voice evident in just that one word. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s fine,” she said, sounding anything but. “It’s just been a really busy day. Is Evie okay?”
“Evie’s over the moon,” he said. “Apparently she’s obsessed with my brother’s company.”
“Your brother owns Green Valley Industries? Oh, God, she’ll talk his ear off. She’s wanted an internship there forever.”
“Give it twenty minutes, and I’m pretty sure Aiden’s gonna hire her to run the place,” James said with a laugh.
There was a male voice, sharp but muffled, in the background. Scott. James’s stomach clenched.
“I’m going to have you explain that to me later,” Cam said hurriedly. “I’ve got to go.”
James’s fingers clenched around his phone. Part of him wanted to go down there right now and put Scott in his place and just take Cam away from there forever.
Don’t go too fast, he told himself. Dammit, it was hard, holding himself back like this. He wanted her for his Studio. He wanted her in his bed. He wanted her in his life. The three desires were so consuming it was hard to think about anything else.
But for once in his life, he needed to be patient. Something this important—someone this important—was worth the wait.
“I’ll come pick you up later,” he said. “How’s that sound?”
“Wonderful,” she said, the raw honesty in her voice doing things to his heart.
“I’ll be there,” he promised.
Chapter Twelve
Cam
“What is this?”
Cam looked up from the ground, where she was wiping up the ink Scott had accidentally swiped off his counter. Scott loomed over her, holding a glove in his hand.
“A glove?” she said, confused. God, this day had been hell. He was in the worst mood. She couldn’t do anything right today in his eyes. He’d been on her ass since he’d come waltzing in at ten. He’d even snapped at one of her walk-in consults, a sweet girl who’d wanted a wolf howling at the moon on her arm. Cam doubted she’d be back, and she didn’t blame her.