by Ronica Black
McKenna rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t understand. Everything worked fine a couple of weeks ago.”
They’d moved in only a few weeks before. And from what they’d told Blake, they still had a heck of a lot to do, despite bringing down a moving truck full of furniture and necessities and a few friends to help. But they’d also said that the house was ready enough for guests, and Blake assumed that electricity was one of the things they’d considered ready.
“Is there anything I can do?” Blake asked. She felt bad enough at having come so soon after they’d moved in. Even if it was at their insistence. She felt like she needed to do something to help. It would be dark soon and they were miles from town. They needed a plan. “Light some candles, maybe?”
“Candles,” McKenna breathed. She looked to Sloane with wide eyes. “Do we have candles?”
“Not unless they’re leftover from the previous owner.”
“Oh, wonderful,” McKenna said.
“We got flashlights,” Sloane said. “But that’s it.” She rested her palm on the Arcadian door. “We can live without power for a night, but I’m worried all the food we brought won’t fare so well overnight in the coolers.” She wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “Not with the limited ice we have.”
They’d had trouble finding ice in town to replenish their coolers for the remainder of the drive in. It seemed to be as popular as the brown shrimp. Blake winced as she once again recalled her exchange with the stranger in town.
She groaned and shoved her out of her mind.
McKenna and Sloane looked at her.
“I wasn’t groaning about this,” she hurried to explain. “I was thinking about something else.”
McKenna snapped her fingers. “What about our neighbor?”
“What neighbor?” Sloane said. “The house next door is vacant and the other one, she never seems to be home.”
McKenna smiled. “She’s home now. There’s a Jeep in the driveway. I saw it when we pulled in.”
Sloane seemed to light up. She tugged on the bill of her cap. “I’ll be back.” She slid open the door and dashed off to the neighbor’s.
“Sorry about all this,” McKenna said.
“Woman, please. You lured me to paradise on a private beach. I’ll sleep outside in the sand if I have to in order to stay here.”
She offered her a smile, wanting to ease her anxiety.
“You really like it?” McKenna asked, worried about everyone else’s happiness as was her typical fashion.
“If I say yes will you start in with the ‘I told you sos?’”
“I might.”
“Then forget it.”
McKenna laughed.
“Let’s go unpack, shall we?” Blake said.
McKenna nodded and they began unloading the Highlander, bringing in luggage and boxes and coolers. Blake wiped her brow after she placed one of the last boxes on the kitchen table. McKenna had opened some of the windows to cool the house and now she was staring through the one in the kitchen.
“Sloane’s coming. Looks like the neighbor is with her. I sure hope she can help.”
“I’m sure she can,” Blake said. “I’m going to go get the last box.” She walked back outside and retrieved the last box from the SUV. She heard voices as she came back inside. Three of them. She expected one of them to sound unfamiliar. But it didn’t. She was almost in the kitchen before that sank in.
Why do I know that voice?
She glanced up, searching for the source, and the box fell from her hands and crashed to the floor. She saw McKenna rush to her, heard Sloane ask if she was okay, but that all seemed surreal. The only thing that did seem real was the woman standing before her. The woman with short, midnight hair, tanned, olive skin, and dark, flashing eyes. Eyes that were taking her in intensely. Eyes she’d thought she’d never see again.
Chapter Five
Blake tried to tell herself it wasn’t the same person, just someone who closely resembled the stranger from town. But the woman had on the same faded green pair of board shorts and the same snug fitting matching tank. She had the same T-shaped shoulders and strong, toned arms. Blake trailed her eyes back up to her face and saw the same pink scar just below her hairline on her forehead that she’d seen before and the other, less noticeable one on her cheek.
She couldn’t deny it now. No matter how badly she wanted to. This was her. The woman who had insulted her, enraged her, and, if she were being honest, left her mind completely spinning.
And I won’t even acknowledge how my body reacts to her.
McKenna touched Blake’s arm. “You okay?”
Blake blinked and forced a smile. “I just lost my grip,” she said, kneeling to help McKenna pile everything back into the box. She tried to take it when they finished, but McKenna wouldn’t let her. She carried it to the kitchen counter herself as if she were worried Blake was too weak or incapable.
Sloane spoke as Blake stood alone, feeling awkward. “Blake, this is Cam. She lives in the house next door. Cam, this is my good friend, Blake. She’s going to stay with us for a while for a much, much needed vacation.” Sloane winked at her, but Blake was burning under the scrutiny of Cam’s stare.
Cam came forward and offered her hand. Blake took it and found it to be surprisingly warm and soft. Her handshake was firm, confident. But Cam pulled away before Blake had the chance to squeeze her hand fully in return.
“We’ve actually already met,” Cam said, holding Blake’s gaze.
McKenna’s face brightened. “Oh?”
“At the fish market,” Cam said. “Earlier today.”
McKenna stared at Blake, her eyes now wide with recognition. Blake had given her a quick rundown of what had happened on her trek to buy shrimp, leaving out the very noticeable fact that Cam was gorgeous. A fact that did not seem to be lost on McKenna, based on the shit-eating grin that had spread across her face.
McKenna crossed her arms across her chest.
“So, you’re the woman from the fish market?” she asked Cam. “The one who helped with the shrimp?”
Cam sank a hand into her pocket. If she was unnerved, she wasn’t showing it.
“I am indeed.”
“Interesting,” McKenna said, looking back at Blake. “Very interesting.”
“Can someone fill me in here?” Sloane asked.
“I will later, hon.”
“Fine, whatever. Cam, come with me.” Sloane and Cam went from room to room and then eventually out the front door. Blake tried to hide her nerves by sifting through the boxes, trying to find things to put away.
“She seems nice,” McKenna said.
“Yeah, she does, doesn’t she?” Blake carried boxes of whole wheat pasta from the table to the countertop. “Where do you want these?”
McKenna pointed to the cabinets next to the fridge.
“She doesn’t seem at all rude to me.”
Blake slid the pasta into place. “Perhaps I was mistaken.” She crossed back to the table and gathered more goods.
“Maybe.” McKenna joined her at the table. “Rude or not, she certainly is a looker.”
Blake fumbled with a jar of organic marinara sauce. McKenna caught it just as it slid from her grip. She held it out for her, smirking.
“And by the sudden reappearance of your butter fingers, I’d say that’s something you’ve noticed as well.”
Blake jerked the jar of sauce away from her. “You’d be wrong.”
“Oh, Blake, my dear, when it comes to reading you, I’m never wrong.”
They continued unpacking until they heard Sloane and Cam come back inside. McKenna once again crossed her arms over her chest as they entered the kitchen.
Blake gave her a pleading look, silently begging her to let whatever intentions she had go. But she merely shrugged, leaving Blake’s nerves on edge. And catching a glimpse of Cam didn’t help matters any. A thin sheen of sweat coated her skin, accentuating every sinewy muscle visible. Blake swallowed
with difficulty and looked away quickly as Cam ran her lean fingers through her short, pixie cut hair. Blake couldn’t help but imagine running her own fingers through that hair while locked in a passionate, writhing embrace, hungrily kissing, tasting…
“The electricity’s shot,” Sloane said. “Not sure why and we won’t be able to get anyone out here to take a look until tomorrow. Cam knows someone who’ll help us out. In the meantime, she’s going to lend us some propane lamps and store our perishables at her place.”
“The lamps are pretty old, but they still work fine. I’d offer my generator,” Cam said, “but a friend is using it.”
“You’re doing more than enough,” McKenna said. “We greatly appreciate it.”
“It’s no trouble,” Cam said.
“We’re getting ready to make dinner,” McKenna said. She looked at Sloane. “Assuming the grill still works, we’re going to have shrimp.”
“We’re probably a little low on propane, but other than that it should be fine,” Sloane said. “But the way our day has gone, who knows.”
“We’d love it if you’d join us,” McKenna said, shifting her gaze to Cam.
Blake singed a look into her, but McKenna was too focused on Cam to notice.
“Maybe some other time,” Cam said. “It sounds like you’ve had a very long day and I’m not exactly in the mood for shrimp this evening. But thank you for the invitation.”
Blake stole a glance at her, her reply sounding sincere, kind even. The inflection of her voice when she said she wasn’t in the mood for shrimp, however, was very evident to Blake. She couldn’t believe McKenna hadn’t picked up on it.
“We’ll hold you to that,” McKenna said.
“We better get busy,” Sloane said. “The suns about to wink out for the night.” She retrieved the bag of shrimp from one of the coolers, gave it to McKenna, and then she and Cam carried the two coolers containing the rest of the perishables out the Arcadian door with Blake and McKenna staring after them.
“Mm, cute butt too,” McKenna said when Sloane and Cam were out of earshot.
“Stop,” Blake said.
“Oh, not a chance, sweetheart. I’m gonna ride this bucking bronco as long as I possibly can.”
That’s what I was afraid of.
Chapter Six
Cam shifted the sizable tank of the propane lamp in her arms as she followed Sloane back through the sand to her house. As she neared the house she began berating herself for always being so helpful.
Why do I do it? Why do I go the extra mile for people? People I don’t even know?
Because it’s who you are.
You wouldn’t feel right not helping.
So suck it up and deliver the lamp.
They reached the patio and Cam saw the reason for her inner turmoil, the reason why she was suddenly questioning the very core values that made her who she was. How could a woman she’d just met be causing her to question herself? Why was she letting her?
If she’d had her way, she wouldn’t have returned with the lamp, preferring instead to avoid Blake altogether. But the probability of being able to avoid Blake completely was unlikely. According to Sloane, Blake was going to be sticking around for a while, so unfortunately, she did indeed have to suck it up if she wanted to venture outside her home at all for the next few weeks. This was the perfect opportunity for her to try her hand at it. Blake was on the patio, messing with the grill.
She stopped when she heard them and hurried to open the door.
“Thanks,” Sloane said as she grunted her way inside with the twin to the lamp Cam carried.
Cam was right behind her. “Thank you,” she said as she walked through the door.
“No problem.”
Cam paused as the familiar phrase registered. She stole a glance at Blake unsure if Blake was mocking her from their earlier exchange in town. The smug look on her face confirmed Cam’s suspicion. Blake, it seemed, wanted to make sure she knew it, too.
Cam bristled, feeling the need to hold her ground. She held Blake’s stare and was careful not to even blink before she walked on. Blake wasn’t going to intimidate her. This beach was Cam’s home. No one was going to make her feel uncomfortable here. Not even Blake. Her temporary nuisance would be like an annoying gnat is all. Gnats eventually move on. Blake would as well. Until then, there was no way she was going to get the best of Cam.
“Can you put that one on the table next to the couch, Cam?” McKenna asked, as Cam stepped inside the house and turned her attention to her. She pointed toward the living room. Cam rounded the couch and situated the lamp, turning it on to ensure it worked. The soft glow of light and the subtle hiss of the propane were oddly soothing. Her aunt and uncle had used the lamps in their home in Puerto Tranquilo when she was a child. Back before electricity was available to many of the outlying beach residents. She used to sit up at night reading when she visited her aunt and uncle, the hissing lamp her faithful companion.
“Thank you so much,” McKenna said.
“Yes, thank you,” Sloane said as she emerged from one of the bedrooms where she’d placed the other lamp. Cam could see the light spilling out of the doorway behind her.
“It’s no trouble, really,” Cam said. “You sure you don’t want me to go get the other one?”
Sloane waved her off and dug in the deep pockets of her cargo shorts to retrieve the two thick candles Cam had given her. “These will work fine for tonight.”
“We can rough it a little,” McKenna said with a laugh. “It won’t kill us. It might even be a little…romantic.”
Sloane grumbled and rolled her eyes. “Only you would think that spending a night without power is romantic.”
“It can be. Don’t you think, Cam?”
“Uh—”
“You don’t have to answer her,” Sloane said.
McKenna grimaced as if she were offended and swatted Sloane’s behind as she walked past her into the kitchen.
“If you change your mind, you know where to find me,” Cam said, relieved at not having to discuss her opinions on romance at the moment. Especially considering her current predicament involving the woman outside.
“Is there any way I can change your mind about dinner?” McKenna asked.
“Yeah, it’s the least we can do,” Sloane said.
A loud curse came from Blake out on the patio. Cam could see that she was still fidgeting with the grill.
“Thanks, but no. Should you happen to need anything though, don’t hesitate to come knocking.”
“Actually,” McKenna said as she turned and slid open a kitchen drawer. “There is one last thing you can do.” She crossed to Cam and handed her a stick lighter. “You can give this to Blake on your way out. I asked her to light the grill but forgot to tell her she’d have to use the lighter. The starter switch doesn’t work.”
Cam took the lighter but felt her face heat slightly at the thought of having to speak with Blake. And if she wasn’t mistaken, McKenna seemed to be studying her closely as if she could somehow see it.
Cam nodded, lighter in hand. “See you two tomorrow.”
“Night, Cam,” Sloane said.
Cam stepped onto the patio and slid the door closed. She approached Blake from behind, listening to her as she cussed at the grill.
“What the hell is wrong with this thing?” She was kneeling in front of it, messing with a red button and then the valve to the propane tank.
Cam could hear the hiss of propane, so she knew Blake had the valve open okay. When she pushed the red button to light the grill, however, it just made a clicking noise. Cam wondered how long Blake had been at it and she immediately became concerned at the amount of propane that had probably been released. Quickly, she knelt next to Blake and closed the valve.
“What are you doing?” Blake demanded as she straightened to a stand. Her eyes were fiery and full of obvious accusation and what looked to be…embarrassment.
Have I hurt her pride?
“Tryi
ng to prevent you from blowing yourself up,” Cam said matter-of-factly.
Blake stammered, as if she were taken aback by her candidness. “I’m just trying to light it. I think I know what I’m doing.”
Cam held up the lighter, somewhat amused that this stubborn and defiant woman seemed to be squirming a little. “McKenna forgot to tell you that the lighter on the grill doesn’t work. You have to use this.”
Blake squinted toward the windows like she was expecting to find McKenna standing there watching them. Cam recalled the way McKenna had been studying her a minute before and for a brief moment, she wondered the same. But there was nothing to be seen at the window. Only the reflection of the ambling sea.
Cam turned her focus back to Blake and Blake quickly tried to take the lighter from her hand. Cam pulled it away.
“You need to wait a few minutes,” Cam said. “You’ve released too much propane.”
“I realize that,” Blake said with contempt, Cam obviously having insulted her intelligence. “I wasn’t going to use it right away.” She attempted to grab it again, but Cam wouldn’t let her have it. She was agitated now and that pissed her off. She didn’t do agitated anymore. But somehow Blake had brought it out in her in a matter of seconds.
“What are you doing?” Blake asked.
“Helping you,” Cam said with a voice that revealed her own contempt.
“I don’t need your help.”
“I disagree.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t really care.”
Blake bored a look into her eyes as they stood toe-to-toe and Cam flat out refused to look away.
How long before she finally caves and breaks eye contact?
Will it be before me? Before my mind does its damndest to tempt me into kissing those alluring lips?
Cam blinked the thoughts away, both surprised and appalled at where they’d gone. But Blake intensified things by leaning closer, as if she were taunting Cam and her refusal to look away. She leaned in a little more, their breath mingling. Seconds stretched into eternity and Cam’s gaze fell unknowingly to Blake’s lips. Blake seemed to have noticed before she did because she took full advantage by reaching around behind her, wrapping her fingers around the lighter and quickly snatching it away.