Passion's Sweet Surrender

by Ronica Black

  “And I’m proud of it.” She finished with the peppers. “Why don’t you go light the grill and get some fresh air? You look a little red. If you have any trouble, I hear there’s a very handy woman next door who might be able to help you out.”

  She smirked again but Blake chose to ignore it. Arguing with Kenna when she was already flustered was pointless. The woman had x-ray vision when it came to emotions, she’d swear on it.

  She walked out to the grill and lit it without issue, letting McKenna’s teasing words slide off her back. She got lost in the repetition of the crashing waves as she waited for the grill to adequately heat. When it did she placed the marinated chicken on the grate and sat on a nearby chair as it sizzled.

  She spotted one of McKenna’s books on the small table next to her. Unlike Sloane, McKenna preferred romances to crime novels.

  Maybe that’s why their love life is still off the chart after eleven years together.

  Blake picked it up and scanned the back blurb. It sounded interesting enough. For a romance.

  She opened it and began reading, thinking that her curiosity would be satisfied after the first couple of pages. But, surprisingly, the more she read, the more curious she became. The two main characters were both highly successful professionals and they seemed to be in a battle of wills as well as in a battle over their underlying attraction. And the perceptible undercurrent of eroticism she found just a few pages in was something she hadn’t been expecting.

  Maybe these romances do rev up some passion. It’s already got me going and I was skeptical.

  “Looks like you’ve got the lighting of the grill conquered.”

  Blake looked up, startled. Cam was standing in the entryway of the patio, leaning on one of the wooden posts. The uncomfortable and avoidant woman Blake had seen last night appeared to be gone. She looked more like her usual self, with her hands in her pockets, wearing a tilted grin, representing the word “casual” like a paid spokesmodel. With her perfectly tousled hair, rich sun-tanned skin, and laid-back, leisurely lean, the word “model” seemed more than fitting. And the long-sleeved T-shirt and loose-fitting jeans she had on were an appropriate addition to her overall relaxed demeanor.

  How does she make easygoing look so damn good?

  “I’m a fast learner,” Blake said, unable to resist giving her a grin of her own. She’d seen her in passing earlier that morning, but only long enough for her to relay that Alberto had risen very early and set out on his way, insisting that he was feeling better. Blake had been disappointed in not being able to check on him and she would’ve liked to have said good-bye. Cam had tried to reassure her by telling her that he had promised to get some more rest.

  “I bet you are,” Cam said.

  Was that…flirtation?

  Blake waited for more, for some clarification that might prove her wrong, but Cam focused on the book in her hand. “That any good?”

  Before she had time to even think of an answer, Blake was flushing and worried about whether or not Cam had seen the rather risqué cover. She quickly set it face down on the table.

  “It’s Kenna’s,” she found herself saying. She wasn’t sure why but she didn’t want Cam to know that a book like that had garnered her full attention.

  Full attention? I was consumed.

  “But you were reading it,” Cam pointed out.

  “I was just curious. Romances aren’t really my thing.”

  “Really?” Her eyes glinted as if she were feeling roguish. “Judging by the look you had on your face when I first walked up, you seemed to be enjoying it.”

  Blake shook her head. “No, I—I only read the first few pages.” She didn’t understand her need to defend herself. Why did she care whether or not someone knew she was interested in a romance?

  Because that particular book is an erotic romance.

  And because the someone who is asking is Cam.

  Cam came closer, slid her hand from her pocket, and pointed at the grill.

  “You want me to check on what you’ve got cooking before I sit down?”

  Blake stood, flustered by her choice of words and confused by her presence and nonchalance in making herself comfortable, as if she felt right at home and was intent on staying a while. It was such a drastic change from her usual reluctance to stick around that Blake couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with the previous evening and the complimentary things Cam had said to her.

  Was it possible she had a romantic interest in her? Even though they seemed to clash at every attempt at normal conversation? Could Kenna be right?

  “No, no, please, stay where you are,” Cam said, holding out her hand to stop Blake from moving farther. “There’s no need for you to get up when I’m right here.”

  Blake slowly sat and watched Cam from behind as she opened the grill and turned the chicken. Blake felt somewhat shameful in doing so, but she took advantage and studied her unabashedly. Her shirt got her attention right away. The bold, colorful letters on the back advertised a popular wax that surfers used on their boards.

  Otherwise known as sex wax.

  Blake couldn’t believe how crazy the word “sex” was making her feel simply because it was on a shirt worn by Cam. It was just as perplexing to her as her embarrassment over the book.

  Sex and Cam seemed to be a disruptive combination to her.

  Can I be any more fifth grade?

  Blake’s eyes traveled downward to her jeans. They sat so seductively low on her hips that Blake knew she’d get an ample view of her smooth lower abdomen if she were to turn and lift her shirt. She might even get a peek at the planes of her pelvic region where she imagined her skin to be soft and pale. But as appealing as that sounded, the view from behind was just as tantalizing with the snug fit of the denim over the rounded top of her buttocks. McKenna had been more than correct when she’d said Cam had a cute butt. Not only was it very, very nice, it appeared to be the only thing holding the jeans in place.

  Cam closed the grill and eased into the chair next to her. She reached for the book and paused as she lifted it, looking at Blake as if to ask her for permission to peruse it. When Blake didn’t protest, she read the back cover and returned it to the table. She stared out at the sea.

  “I can see why you were enjoying yourself.”

  “It’s not even mine,” Blake snapped. “It’s Kenna’s.” She ran her hand through her hair, tucking errant strands back into her ponytail. When that didn’t suffice, she pulled it loose and sighed, upset at how quickly and irrationally she’d reacted to Cam’s teasing.

  Cam looked at her and for an instant she appeared to be mesmerized by the fall of Blake’s hair. That look however, was gone in a flash. “Why does that matter? And why can’t you admit you might’ve been enjoying it?”

  “Because I don’t read romance.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I—they’re—silly.”

  “Is there anything you enjoy?”

  “Yes,” Blake shot back. She’d done it again. Spoke without thinking. But the question had riled her up and she continued, unabated. “Is there anything you enjoy? Other than driving nails through wood and drinking expensive wine?”

  Cam looked back at the ocean without showing any effect from Blake’s words. That bothered Blake so she couldn’t resist an additional snide comment.

  “That’s what I thought,” she said.

  Cam laughed softly and shook her head. “You’re—”

  Blake glared at her. “What? Uptight? Stubborn? Impossible? Come on, Cam, I’m sure you can come up with the appropriate adjective for me. So, go ahead. Tell me. What am I?”

  “Scared.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Blake blinked and stared transfixed at the side of Cam’s face. Her heart was beating so fast she almost couldn’t feel it. Like how the wings of a hummingbird moved so quickly they blurred almost to invisibility. That’s what her heart felt like. Like it was going to beat itself out of existence.
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  Blake swallowed against her dry throat. Forced herself to confront her.

  “What am I scared of, Cam? Huh? Enlighten me.”

  Cam turned to look her directly in the eye. “You’re scared of losing control.”

  What?

  Blake felt her jaw slacken and she feared her chin might fall to the floor. Worse, she seemed unable to reel it back in order to speak.

  “Hey, you two,” McKenna said, sliding open the back door. “Chicken almost done?” She carried plates and silverware to the patio dining table and began setting a place for everyone. Blake counted four settings.

  It seemed, unbeknownst to her, that Cam had been invited to dinner.

  That was why she’d come over. It had nothing to do with Cam having a secret romantic interest in her.

  Blake propped her elbow on the armrest of the chair and massaged her brow.

  She felt sick. How could she have been so stupid to think that Cam had an interest in her? Just because she’d been polite to her for a few moments the day before?

  How could I have made that leap? Why had I made that leap? And why is it upsetting me so much to realize that I’d been incorrect?

  Blake sat motionless, caught up in the quicksand of her mind as she tried to make sense of her emotions. Sloane, McKenna, and Cam moved around her, preparing for dinner. She heard them talking, heard their lighthearted laughter, but she could only nod when McKenna came to her and asked about the chicken, which she then removed from the grill herself, correctly asserting, like she usually did when she sensed Blake’s feelings, that Blake wasn’t up for it.

  She did, however, manage to lure Blake over to the table to join them. But Blake’s silent stupor didn’t begin to fade until near the end of their meal, which she’d done little more than pick at despite it being one of her favorites.

  “Why are you so quiet, B? You feeling okay?” Sloane asked, sipping from her bottle of cold Modelo.

  “Mm-hm.” She gave a smile but knew it probably appeared as half-hearted as it felt. “Just have a lot on my mind.” She took a bite of the chicken in an added effort to reassure them she was fine.

  McKenna, who was watching her closely, seemed to be questioning her with her eyes.

  “Have you come up with any more ideas for the clinic?” McKenna asked. She looked to Cam. “Blake wants to open a medical clinic down here.”

  Cam looked up at her, showing the slightest hint of surprise before she returned to her plate, once again appearing unaffected. “That sounds nice.”

  Nice?

  Blake wasn’t especially happy in McKenna bringing up the clinic. It had become more of a sore subject for her seeing as how Sloane, yet again today, made an excuse as to why she couldn’t take her to check out possible places for the clinic. And she wasn’t especially happy in having this conversation in front of Cam.

  “No, no new ideas. I really need to see some things for myself before I can go any further with my plans. And since that seems to be an impossibility, I think I’m just going to go rent a car in town and check things out for myself.”

  Sloane cleared her throat. “That’s not necessary, B.”

  “At this point, I think it is.” She shoveled her food around with her fork.

  “I said I would take you and I will. I just wanted you to take some time to relax before we started in on that.”

  “And I told you, I don’t need any more time to relax. I have things I want to get done while I’m here. Important things. You have a home here now so you have all the time you need to explore. But I don’t have either of those.”

  “I understand that you feel that way,” Sloane replied evenly. “But I don’t understand the big rush. You don’t have to go back right away, and I don’t know why you’d want to. You’ve talked nonstop about this venture for over a year. You’ve said time and again how you can’t wait to leave the practice and start anew down here. So, why can’t you just relax and enjoy yourself for a little while before we go traipsing around inspecting buildings and property and thinking about finances?”

  Blake’s fork clanged as she let it fall from her hand. “Despite your awareness of my vacation allowance, I don’t necessarily want to take it. So, if you must know, I’m not planning on staying here much longer. In fact, I’d like to leave as soon as possible. As soon as you and I traipse around and I see what I need to. And as for relaxing and enjoying myself? I don’t need any help in doing either, and I’m getting a little pissed at everyone, even those who don’t even really know me, insinuating otherwise. You would think you all would be smart enough to realize that your suggesting that I’m incapable of relaxing or enjoying myself feels like an insult, like there’s something wrong with me, and therefore, makes it more difficult for me to actually relax and enjoy myself.”

  The table grew quiet. Sloane and Cam stared at their plates while McKenna continued to look at Blake. Her eyes were big and brimming with obvious concern. “You’re going to leave?” She sounded heartbroken but Blake didn’t fall prey, regardless of how strongly McKenna’s sadness was affecting her.

  “As soon as I can, yes.”

  “But, why?”

  Blake could no longer hold her all-knowing gaze. Cam’s presence, no more than a few inches to her right, was also weighing on her. Its heavy press into her psyche the very answer McKenna was after. Though she knew her long-time friend would eventually discover that, if she wasn’t already suspecting, Blake didn’t want that discovery to come to light at the current moment.

  “Because I’ve had enough—relaxation.” If you can call the constant colliding with a rude, intruding neighbor relaxing. She’d be better off at home, sitting poolside with a book, even if her pool and walled in yard with a few palm trees didn’t come anywhere close to comparing with this oceanside view. The peace of mind would be worth it.

  McKenna clasped her hands together and attempted a smile. “Why don’t we all go for a walk on the beach before the sun goes down?”

  Sloane patted her stomach. “I’m all for it. I ate enough for three.” She touched McKenna’s hand and leaned in for a quick kiss. “Dinner was fabulous, honey. Thank you.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Cam said. “It was wonderful.”

  “We loved having you,” McKenna said. “You’ll come again soon, won’t you?”

  Cam seemed to hesitate. She put off answering by drinking from her bottle of beer. “I’ll do my best to try.”

  “She’s busy, Kenna,” Sloane said. “All that work she does on houses takes time. Her business must be thriving. That’s why she’s gone so much.”

  “I love what you’ve done to your place,” McKenna said. “You can really tell that you put your heart into it. It must be nice being able to make a living doing what you love.”

  Cam took another drink from her beer. Blake noticed the bottle was empty.

  She was apparently as uneasy and eager to escape as Blake was. The questions regarding what she did for a living obviously still an uncomfortable subject for her.

  “How long have you been doing that kind of work?” McKenna asked.

  Cam shifted and slowly turned the base of the bottle in increments on the tabletop. “I don’t know. Three or four years or so.”

  “Is that all?” Sloane said.

  “What did you do before that?” McKenna asked, resting her chin on her entwined hands.

  “I’ve been self-employed.”

  Blake thought back to her evasiveness the night before when she’d asked her similar questions. She found it rather ironic how she seemed to be hesitant in sharing things about herself when she’d just called Blake on doing the same thing.

  Sloane and Kenna seemed to sense the topic was off-limits and Blake knew they wouldn’t press Cam for more than she was willing to offer up. Had it been her, they definitely would’ve continued to push. But they wouldn’t do that to someone they didn’t know well.

  “How about that walk?” Sloane said, rising and stretching.

  They all
stood and Blake began clearing the table. “You guys go ahead, I’ll clean up.” She wanted to make up for her indifference at dinner and she needed a good excuse to avoid being around Cam.

  McKenna grabbed what was left of the dinnerware and followed her inside. When they reached the sink and deposited the dishes, she touched Blake’s arm.

  “Come with us. These can wait.”

  “Kenna, it’s the least I can do for all your effort with dinner.”

  “You mean the dinner you hardly touched?”

  “I ate. Just not a lot.” She turned on the faucet, but McKenna quickly shut it off.

  She tugged on her. “You’re coming.”

  Blake protested but McKenna drug her to the open door to where Sloane and Cam could hear. They turned, curious at the bickering. Blake stopped resisting, not wanting to cause a scene in front of Cam, who also seemed less than thrilled at the idea of a walk. But if McKenna and Sloane noticed, they didn’t seem to be deterred because Sloane was already walking off with Cam, talking her ear off and McKenna held firm to Blake as they chased after them.

  When they fell into step alongside them, and McKenna dropped Blake’s hand to slide her arm around her waist as they aimed for the setting sun, Blake relented and accepted her fate.

  Her evening with Cam was far from over.

  Chapter Nineteen

  They weren’t five minutes into their walk before Cam concluded she’d made two big mistakes. The first was agreeing to accompany her new neighbors on an after-dinner walk, when she’d known good and well that she was only accepting the invitation because she was too big of a chicken to say no because she feared more probing questions. One of which would no doubt be why it was she didn’t want to go. She couldn’t very well tell them that she was uncomfortable, both by their questions and by Blake. The second mistake she’d made was hurrying to her house to get the dogs so they could join them on the walk. She’d hoped that having them with her would help to lesson her qualms, but she’d forgotten how they were around Blake. And true to form, they’d quickly dashed after her and McKenna. Cam had only called for them twice before giving up, already too embarrassed at being ignored.