by Ronica Black
Blake felt a sense of loss at her absence and she almost called out to her, to somehow bring her back. But she caught herself and watched her go, taking the opportunity to look beyond her to examine the details of her house without her being aware. It was a Spanish style bungalow with a flat roof with red tile. The stuccoed walls were painted a shade of rose, and the patio in which Cam was now standing had a large arched entry with two more arches on both the left and right perpendicular sides allowing for full view of the entire beach. The waist-high wall enclosing the patio was covered in colorful decorative tile that matched the Spanish flair of the home. It really was quite impressive. A lot of time and energy had gone into every detail. Were the decorative tiles hand painted? They were beautiful and set off the deep green fabric of the patio chairs.
Sloane had said that Cam’s home wasn’t much larger than the one they were in, but that it was a lot nicer due to all the renovating. Apparently, Cam had done all of that renovating herself. Blake had overheard all this as she’d gotten ready for bed the night before. The wall separating the bedrooms was thin, something she’d been reminded of again a couple of hours later when she heard the unmistakable giggles and sighs of love making. In regard to what she’d heard about Cam, she’d tried not to allow any of it to remain in the forefront of her mind as she’d crawled into bed. But despite those efforts, Cam came to her all night long, insisting on being the center of her thoughts just like she’d insisted on “helping” her light the grill. Blake had never encountered someone so self-righteous and rude.
She kept her attention on Cam, searching for any sign of the boorishness she’d displayed previously. But Cam seemed calm, at ease. Not at all bothered by the fact that Blake could possibly be watching her. She settled into one of those dark green, thickly cushioned chairs, propped her feet up on a matching ottoman, and crossed her ankles. The dogs rested beside her and she scratched their heads and spoke to them before she leaned back and reached for a hardbound book.
Blake tried not to stare, but she was bewildered by her reading and suddenly very curious about her, wanting to know why she was up so early, what it was she was reading and what kinds of things, other than reading and home renovation, she found interesting.
She’d thought she’d had her pegged just by her interactions with her the day before. But now she was questioning her judgment.
Have I missed something?
Could there be more to her than the brutish behavior and irritating apathy I saw yesterday?
She wasn’t sure.
But she’d be damned before she’d make an effort to try to find out.
Some stones were better left unturned, regardless of their appeal.
Chapter Nine
Blake combed her wet hair in front of the bathroom mirror. She’d just showered, quite quickly, since they had a limited supply of water. Which, according to Sloane, was delivered by truck weekly. Nevertheless, she felt clean and refreshed from her morning run, even if she was already beginning to feel stiff and sore.
“Hey, look at you.” McKenna was in the doorway, arms crossed, devilish grin on her face. “Already up and at ’em and pretty as a peach.”
Blake rolled her eyes and secured the towel around her body. “Yeah, I’m a real stunner. Total heart stopper with my wet head, makeup-free face and old beach towel wrapped around me.”
“I know someone who might think so.”
Blake scoffed. “Don’t even. And no, she would not think so. Trust me on that.”
“I don’t know, Blake,” she said, her voice growing higher. “She sure seemed interested yesterday when Sloane and I told her all about you.”
“What?” Blake fumbled with her toothbrush as she turned to look at her. Then, just as quickly, she tried to downplay her reaction. “Oh. She was probably just being nice. But when, exactly was this?”
McKenna seemed amused and Blake cursed herself for asking.
“Mm, I don’t remember exactly. Sometime yesterday.”
“Like when I was screwing around with that damn grill? Thanks for that, by the way. Setting me up by sending me out there knowing good and well I wouldn’t be able to get it to work without the lighter. I know you did it on purpose.”
“I had to do something to get the two of you alone together. And she seemed more than willing to help when I eventually pointed out my absentmindedness.”
Blake brushed past her, angry in hearing firsthand that McKenna had purposely intended for Cam and her to interact alone, and in remembering just how fierce that interaction had been.
She entered the bedroom she was staying in and dug through her clothes in the dresser drawer. McKenna followed and hovered in the doorway.
“Just what, pray tell, happened out there on the patio last night? Seemed pretty intense from the little that I saw.”
“Little you saw? You’re saying you didn’t spy on us and overhear every word we said? I find that hard to believe.”
“No, Sloane and I retreated to the bedroom and did some unpacking.”
“Yeah, right.”
“So something did happen.”
“As if I’d tell you.” She started shoving clothes aside, frustrated that she couldn’t seem to find anything she wanted to wear.
“Why not?”
“And reward your behavior? Nuh-uh. Don’t think so.”
“Okay, smarty-pants. Then I won’t tell you what was said to Cam about you. Nor what all she seemed interested in knowing.”
Blake shook her head. Laughed. “Wicked, wicked woman.” She grabbed a lavender T-shirt and a pair of gray sweat shorts and tossed them on the bed. Then she slammed the drawer and opened another for panties, but chose to forego the bra. What was a vacation good for without a little freedom? “But I’m not falling for it. Not going to rise to the bait.” She shrugged. “Because I couldn’t care less.”
“Uh-huh,” McKenna said. “I can tell. You seem very calm about the whole thing and completely in control.” She leaned against the dresser as Blake turned from her to drop her towel and dress. “So, I guess I’ll leave you to it then. Just leave you to dress without telling you what all I learned about Cam. Seeing as how you don’t care and all.”
Blake paused.
Know about Cam? She hadn’t mentioned she had info on Cam.
But really, what all could she possibly know?
She glanced over her shoulder. “Fine, whatever.”
“Okay.”
“Yep, okay.”
“Okay, well, seeing as how you’re already showered and dressed, you can be the one to go over to Cam’s to get the food for breakfast.”
Blake whipped around in her T-shirt and panties. “Wha—no. Oh, no. No way. You’re not doing that to me. I’m not going to be a pawn in your little game.”
“If you truly don’t care, Blake, then it shouldn’t be an issue for you to go over there, should it?”
Blake clamped her mouth closed.
Damn you, Kenna. You wicked, wicked woman. Clever as hell, you are.
“Okay, fine. I’ll go. But she may not be up yet, she—” But McKenna cut her off in the midst of her attempt to fib.
“Oh, I’m sure she is. See, that’s one of the things I learned about her. She gets up before sunrise. Doesn’t sleep very well apparently, and seeing the sunrise every morning has become something she looks forward to.”
“Why doesn’t she sleep—?” The question slipped out before she could catch it, which only seemed to please McKenna.
“So, anyway, she should be up.” She started to walk away. “Don’t be too much longer changing outfits and what not, worrying about how you look. I’m hungry.”
“I’m not going to change—” But she glanced back at the bed at her sweat shorts and then down at her chest. She needed the bra.
Damn.
She started tugging off her shirt. “I’m ready.”
But McKenna was gone. Blake hurriedly put on a bra, slipped her shirt back on and pulled on a different, albeit nice
r pair of shorts, hoping McKenna wouldn’t notice. Then she rushed into the bathroom and frowned at her hair and the dark circles beneath her eyes. But she couldn’t primp, because she didn’t care, right?
Who cares what a woman I hardly know thinks anyway?
She ran some mousse through her hair, tousled and crimped it with her hands, and then headed for the back door where she was faced with another decision.
Shoes or no shoes? If she wore shoes it may imply that she’d put forethought into her visit, something she didn’t want Cam assuming. The shoes would also undoubtedly fill with sand and she really hated the way those minuscule grains ground their way into the soles of her feet.
She looked to McKenna who was sitting at the kitchen table, staring out at the sea.
“Do you think I should wear—?”
McKenna looked at her, waiting for her to finish.
“Never mind.” She opened the door and crossed the patio in her bare feet. She walked through the deep sand to Cam’s while repeating a mantra in her mind.
She’s just a neighbor.
Just a person, like anyone else.
Though the words replayed on a continuous loop, sometimes even coming out upon whispers, they weren’t able to stop the acceleration of her pulse as she neared the steps to Cam’s patio. By the time she was standing at their base, staring up at the small, framed, Mexican art hanging between the two large windows, her heart was thudding harder than it had during her morning run.
She scanned the remainder of the space, took in the raw wood of the rustic accent tables, the rug with the elaborate Aztec design, the lush plants in terra-cotta pots in the corners. They were beautiful details that her mind was absorbing but she knew she wouldn’t be able to process them properly until later. Right now she was too overloaded with anxiousness to do anything but struggle with the next insurmountable decision.
Should I call out to her from here or walk up onto the patio?
Why aren’t the dogs barking? Haven’t they seen me yet?
Should I wait for them to see me or should I knock on the door?
Normally, she’d have no issue whatsoever in bounding up to someone’s patio to knock on their door. But with Cam it was different. She wasn’t sure she was welcome. She took a tentative step up, then another, until she stood quietly on the rug. She waited. Listened. Noted the unusual designs of patina copper in the framed wall art.
But as far as movement from inside the house, there was nothing.
She looked at the large windows, wondering if Cam was watching her from behind the reflective glass. Watching her as she had a full-blown anxiety attack on her Aztec rug. The thought of that made her swallow down the ball of fear wedged in her throat and cross to the wood door where she knocked.
The dogs barked immediately but they didn’t sound close. With every passing second, however, their barks grew louder. She snuck a look through the window in the door and saw them running toward her.
She spoke to them, unable to resist, expecting their excitement to cease at any moment with a command from Cam. But that didn’t happen.
Is she not home?
She hadn’t even thought to check for her vehicle before she’d come. Her stomach dropped, like she’d just plummeted down the steep hill of a rollercoaster. It wasn’t a reaction she’d experienced before and it definitely didn’t feel anything like relief in not having to face her. Which, if anything, she surmised, was what she should be feeling.
No, this was different. This was more like…
Disappointment.
But not just any ordinary sense of disappointment. This was stronger, deeper.
She felt it in her gut.
She turned to walk away, realizing just how badly she’d wanted to see her, to once again engage with her. She was confused by that and embarrassed. Embarrassed at her own feelings. She hadn’t seen them clearly until now and that worried her. Another thing that worried her was her apparent inability to control them.
The dogs stopped barking behind her, but she assumed it was because she was leaving. She was just about to descend the steps when she heard the soft click of the door opening and a voice. A smooth, familiar voice.
Chapter Ten
“Not even going to stick around to get the last word in this time before you walk away?” the voice said.
Blake stiffened. Her heart froze mid-beat and flames shot to her face and scorched her skin.
She turned, ready to snap back at her, to bite into her good and hard, but she saw a grin on Cam’s barely visible face. Not a snide grin, a playful one, and it knocked Blake off balance as she searched for an appropriate reply.
“I came for breakfast.”
She inwardly cringed at her own statement and fought palming her forehead.
“For food, I mean—McKenna is hungry.”
Can I sound any more pathetic?
Cam didn’t respond right away. But she looked at her in a way that suggested she was doing more than just trying to make sense of her presence. After a few long seconds, she stepped back and eased the door open.
“Come on in,” she said from behind the door.
Blake remained where she was, the invitation to enter her home completely unexpected. She’d been prepared for having to see her and speak to her. That however, was as far as she’d gone in her mind. She’d imagined Cam simply bringing the items she requested to her at the threshold.
This…she wasn’t prepared.
She was barefoot and felt awkward. And the invitation felt too familiar. Like they were actually friends and she’d just stopped by unannounced to borrow some sugar.
The dogs came to her, tails fanning the air, ears back. They, too, were welcoming her, encouraging her to come inside.
“You coming?” Cam asked, peeking at her.
Blake followed the dogs and entered. She was almost completely caught up in the home’s decor, as well as the exposed beams of the ceiling, when she glanced back at Cam as she closed the door behind them.
Blake was so struck by what she saw she felt both stupefied and electrified all at once. She hadn’t thought being unable to see Cam fully from outside was anything to be concerned about.
She was wrong.
If she had seen her, there was no way she would’ve come in.
No freaking way.
Because Cam was…she was…
Wet.
Her hair, her skin. Probably every last inch of her. Even the little of her that was covered by a body-clinging, blue satin robe. And judging by the way she smelled, like she’d literally bathed in seduction itself, Blake guessed she’d just emerged from the shower.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” she said, heart flip-flopping in her chest like a fish out of water.
“You didn’t.” She breezed past her and Blake had the urge to close her eyes and stand there in her wake just inhaling the scent of her. “I had just finished when I heard the dogs.”
Blake helplessly followed her farther in and she managed to tear her eyes away from her to take in the living room on the left. A huge stone fireplace on the far end drew her eye first. Walls painted a weathered coral color enclosed the rest of the room and they were adorned with more beautiful artwork. Some of it similar to the patina copper artwork she’d seen outside. A sizable leather sofa the color of dark chocolate faced the fireplace, and a matching chair was angled toward the hearth nearby. The tables in the room were bigger than the ones outside and the tobacco colored stain on the wood appeared to be hand rubbed, giving it the rustic look that seemed to be the theme of the house. The Navajo rug centered on the wood floor was beautiful and vibrant, the colors in it brought out by the coral painted walls, the artwork and the throw pillows on the couch.
A smaller adjacent room was to her right. It was painted a light yellow and housed similar rustic wood furniture. There was a bookshelf that spanned one wall, containing dozens of books and decorative knickknacks. There was a desk with an amber-shaded lamp and a leather chair the
same color as the terra cotta pots outside sitting by the window. But her eyes were drawn back to the living room. She imagined sinking into the cushions of the couch, curling up with a glass of deliciously wonderful wine while basking in the hypnotizing heat of that fireplace. And possibly…basking in the heat of Cam’s stare from the other side of the couch.
Stop it.
You can’t do this.
Remember she’s just a person.
A person who just happens to be a gorgeous, wet, and heavenly smelling woman, scantily clad in a rather revealing robe that only covers her to mid-thigh.
“Feel free to sit,” Cam said. She’d bypassed the living room and was now at the brink of the kitchen. She’d turned to face Blake and appeared to have caught her staring longingly at the sofa.
“Oh, no thanks. I just came to get the food and I’ll let you get back to your day.” Blake’s gaze fell to Cam’s bare legs, the short length of the robe a cruel ruse. She didn’t linger in her appraisal though, reminding herself that Cam was watching her and that she wouldn’t cross that line with her, regardless of how divine her tanned, lean-muscled legs were. Even if they were still glistening with the moisture from her shower and probably as soft and as smooth as the very satin of her robe.
She trailed her eyes back up and found Cam looking at her as if she’d not only seen her visually devour her legs, but also had heard her thoughts about them as well. But she didn’t acknowledge any of it and her expression changed to one which suggested she’d only been perceiving Blake as a moron.
“I can give you the food, no problem. It’s just right behind me in the fridge.” She stood still, as if waiting for Blake to say something.
“Okay,” Blake said, drawing the word out to show her confusion. “That would be fine.”
“It would be, under normal circumstances, yes. But…”
“But…” Blake said, searching her face for any sort of clue as to what she might be missing.
“Unless something has changed since the last I spoke to Sloane, then my giving you the food would be pointless.”