“I would be if I wasn’t so worried about you.”
I wanted to say something like I’m a grown ass woman and can take care of myself, but look where that had gotten me. Plus, I heard some of the fear in his voice.
“Sorry. I’m okay. I’m home.” I took a breath. “Now go have fun on your honeymoon.”
Unexpectedly, he didn’t hang up. “How’s Jillian?”
I narrowed my puffy eyes.
“Fine why?” suspicion filing my voice as I remembered his and Cam’s conversation.
“It’s just…”
He trailed off into nothingness and I wasn’t ready to wake to a new day. I wanted very much to go back to sleep. It wasn’t like I could ask him about Cam.
“She’s didn’t expect an invite,” I hedged.
If Chelsea had hated me, she hated Jillian more. I never understood why. I’d assumed it was because Jillian and Eddie hadn’t gotten along.
“It’s not that…” Quickly, he switched subject. “Look, I’m glad you’re okay, but next time respond to my texts.”
I couldn’t even secretly laugh thinking how he’d found Cam and me. There was a bitterness in that memory I wasn’t sure I could ever get over.
“Did you know?” I blurted, sounding way too spiteful.
When he asked, “Know what?” I tried my best to inject a lightness to my tone as if I didn’t care about his answer.
“About Cam.” When there were only crickets on the other line, I added, “About him getting married.”
The expletives that left his mouth had me holding the phone from my ear.
“What do you mean?” he demanded.
“He didn’t tell you either,” I said more than asked.
I didn’t know what was going on with Cam, but I didn’t like this new version of himself.
“No. And how do you know?” he asked.
“It’s all over the news. That and his trade.” He went quiet. “You knew that didn’t you.”
At least Cam wasn’t totally lost to us.
“Why do you care? He told me it was a secret. I didn’t think it would matter to you.”
There it was. An opening for me to be honest with my oldest and dearest friend. Even though I knew I had to come clean, I thought it best if I did it in person.
“It doesn’t matter to me,” I forced out through my lips. “Go to your wife. I need to get some more sleep.”
Chelsea’s voice could be heard calling him from another room.
“Yeah, okay. But we need to talk.”
“We do,” I said, somberly and ended the call.
The next time I woke was to the shout of my editor coming from the phone I’d answered once again oblivious to who was on the other line.
“Christina, tell me you are at the press conference.”
I made the mistake of sleepily asking, “What press conference?”
He let out a long string of curses each worse than the previous one. Superstition would say bad things happened in threes, so who would be spewing out the foul language next.
“You get your ass over to that fancy Dallas stadium for that press conference or you won’t have a job.”
It didn’t take a genius to guess what the topic would be about. I wanted desperately to make an excuse, but the truth was, I needed the job. As it stood, Jillian and I were giving up the apartment. The neighborhood was seeing growth which allow our landlord to raise our rent to unaffordable levels.
We had options, just not ones I relished.
“I’m on it, boss.” I said, hoping to get back on his good side.
“You do that. And you know McCabe don’t you?”
I sighed. The name dropping had been an interview opening that pushed me ahead of all the other applicants when I started the job two years ago. Of course I’d told Cam via email and he’d given me a few quotes here and there over the years. Now it was coming back to bite me.
“Yeah,” I agreed unwillingly knowing the likely place where his question was leading.
“See if you can get an exclusive.”
Then he hung up, not giving me an out.
Bleary eyed, I pushed up from my flat-on-my-face position on the bed. I rolled to my back before hoisting myself up. My boss didn’t have to give me the time of the event. I saw the string of texts he’d sent me all morning. I had about ten minutes to pull myself together and head over or I’d be late.
I took the world’s fastest shower and put on a shirt and skirt that would flaunting my best assets. No reason not to look good when I encountered the bastard. I had a plan and it didn’t include standing in the pool of reporters to ask questions.
Chapter 8
The parking lot was filled with news vehicles and reporters primping for on camera appearances. I slipped through the crowd and down the long hallway to the team’s locker room.
There were people milling about and I wasn’t surprised to find Claudia talking with another woman of the same approximate age near the locker room doors.
If I’d been a bull, I would have blown out steam and used a hoof to rub at the ground preparing for my killing charge. Despite her red dress and perfect hair, she wasn’t worth my time. Besides, she’d done nothing to me. My fight was with Cam.
I stiff armed my way into the locker room, holding my press badge out like a shield. I ignored the players in their state of dress focusing on faces and searching for the one I sought out.
Three rows in, I found him.
My heart stopped in my chest the second he turned and our eyes locked. Damn him for being so heart-stoppingly beautiful.
His eyes narrowed as did mine. My feet unglued themselves and I marched over. When I reached him, I held out my phone which I’d set on record.
It all would have gone perfect if I’d been watching where I was walking. Grown men, who had lockers less than a foot away, still left shit littering the floor. My foot clipped something and I ended up doing an impression of a baseball player sliding home as I hit the floor.
Humiliation stained my cheeks a tomato red and I had a moment to tamp down the embarrassment. Before I could completely pull myself together, Cam was there to help me to my feet. Bastard. Why did he have to be a gentleman when I wanted to punch him in his gorgeous face.
“There you go, slugger,” he said, lifting my chin with his knuckle. “Are you okay?”
No, I was so not okay. My heart beat like some mating call. My stomach did the butterfly thing when he touched me. I imagined my face looked like a constipated Kewpie doll as I struggled not to swoon, save face, and be mad at the same time.
Then there were those sparkling green eyes of his. Locked on mine as they were, I barely heard the laughter all around us.
“Funny,” I said, managing to let my anger burn always any lingering awkwardness. “You’ve always had a way with words.”
Cam’s smile disappeared and he was all business. “What can I help you with, Miss Evans? Are you looking for a quote about my trade deal?”
Talk about sucker punch. He’d hit me back where it would hurt professionally.
“Well, I planned to lead off with that and follow it up with all the other secrets you’ve been hiding.”
He nodded, but it wasn’t in agreement. “Maybe if someone wouldn’t have run—” He put so much emphasis on that last word, “—there wouldn’t have been any secrets between us.”
Even if I’d stayed, his little announcement wouldn’t have changed a thing between us. I might have felt a bigger fool for thinking there was even a remote chance for us.
“You didn’t have time considering you had a wedding to attend.”
My retort should have been the knockout punch, instead, he got me.
“That’s where you're wrong. The wedding had already happened.”
My mouth became a desert and words an oasis. I could see but not grasp them. He stood there with no remorse. As hurt took root like a sandstorm, I spun on my heels and fled. He would not have the satisfaction of my tears.
The doors blew open as I pushed on both. Everyone out in the hall glanced my way, but I kept moving. There was a ladies room near the front of the building. I no longer cared about jockeying for position in the press conference room. I had to check the little makeup I’d worn in case my boss sent a camera crew. Which reminded me to check my messages after I fixed my face.
Thank goodness for waterproof mascara. I used my finger to rub off some smudged eyeliner, but otherwise I wasn’t half bad.
I was in the middle of checking my emails and messages when Claudia strode in, eyes cast on me.
Though I knew her, I had no idea she knew me. She should have looked scandalous in the scarlet wrap dress that showed off her slender figure. But even so early in the morning she managed to pull off the look without appearing like a hooker.
My hair and been tightly bound in a bun at the base of my neck. I’d wanted to look like a hard nose reporter. But what little was left of my ego forced me to make a stand. I pulled my locks free from their hold and the bun served well. A cascade of waves flowed free like a conditioner commercial. My blonde hair settled free around my shoulders. It might have worked to boost my ego if I still didn’t look like a homeless person standing next to her.
“He’ll never be yours,” she said in that phone sex voice that made men come in their pants.
My first attempt at a response was a squeak. I cleared my voice and tilted my head like that was a planned noise.
“Who said I wanted him?”
I lifted my chin and walked for the door. As if today numbered 666, so did my luck. Someone pushed at the same time and the door hit me square in the face. My nose took the brunt.
I cupped hands over my face, but didn’t dare turn back. Claudia with her unpronounceable last name would not see me that way.
My first thought was to run. Bad things happened in threes. No way would attending the press conference be a good thing.
My phone buzzed.
“Where are you?” came the irritating voice of my editor. “The crew is in the room.”
Still holding my nose as I walked in the direction of the room, I spoke as best I could through the throbbing pain. “On my way.”
“You said that this morning. Believe me, Evans, this is your last warning. And what’s wrong with your voice.”
“Tunnel. I’m in the tunnel,” I said, blowing air into the phone. I wanted him to believe I was in the tunnel that led from the field to the locker room. “Blame a girl for having to go pee. I bet that’s against HR policy.”
That last bit made him grumbled. “You won’t talk your way out of this one. You’re a damn good reporter, Evans, but I can’t count on you.”
That hurt. I’d had a string of bad luck that seemed to continue, but I’d done my best. Each piece that made press was far superior than the rest. It’s was my on-screen presence that was lacking.
I made it in the press room just in time. I found a place in the back, still shaken by my confrontation with Cam.
There was no time to pull myself together before everyone went silent as he entered alongside his coach.
A shiver ran through me. When someone touched my shoulder, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned to find the camera crew there.
“Your nose,” the camera guy said.
I’d forgotten and covered it again.
“I bumped in a door.”
He spoke into the phone, probably to my boss. “Yeah, no go on the live interview. It’s about to start, but she’s here.”
I sighed and was grateful when the sound guy had only looked but didn’t comment.
Thank god the place was far too crowded for them to point that lens my way. It was aimed at the head coach as he took position in front of the podium.
I really didn’t hear past him stating that they were proud to announce Cam being on the team.
This was my job, I tried to tell myself. But I couldn’t keep my eyes from straying to Cam who stood not far from the coach. He was looking forward but nowhere near my direction.
When it was Cam’s turn, my ears perked up. The seductive nature of his voice made me squeeze my legs tight while hating myself.
“I’ve been wanting to come home for a long time,” he began. “This team is the one I grew up rooting for and it’s a dream come true to wear these colors. This organization had made me feel welcome along with all of the fans.”
“Why’d you want to come home, Cam?” a reporter shouted from somewhere on my right.
“Does it have anything to do with your secret wedding in Vegas?” Another one yelled from somewhere closer to the front.
He nodded his head. “In fact it does.”
“Who is she?” a woman next to me called out.
I turned to see her starry eyes glued on the man of the hour.
When I turned back his way, his eyes locked on mine and his widened. He focused on my nose, which I’d once again left uncovered. The pain had come a distant second to seeing Cam. My emotions were everywhere. I covered my face again. He probably though it had happened when I fell in the locker room.
He blinked once I had it covered and must have regained his equilibrium. His voice came out strong and clear.
“Actually, the wedding was a surprise to both of us. And there is something I really need to do.”
The way his gaze intently held mine, I turned thinking he was just looking in my direction but not at me. As I did, his deep baritone voice breached the silence not needing a microphone to cross the distance.
“I’ve loved this girl for over half my life and there never seemed to be a right time.”
I realized then the only woman near me was next to me. Not wanting to believe what was happening, I mentally made the excuse it was her he was talking about. I couldn’t accept what I was seeing in front of me as he approached.
“She had no idea what she was daring me to do that night. If she’d only known being her husband was the fantasy I never thought I would achieve, she might not have asked me.”
Where was he going with this. A flash of my early morning dream crossed my mind. Elvis.
He wasn’t done as he slowly walked forward, the pool of reporter parting like the Red Sea.
“I need to prove to her even though she’d been the one to dare me to marry her, I want this more than she could ever know.”
Dare. It was the second mention of the word that unlocked the memories I’d been suppressing out of embarrassment. What I’d done that drunken night came crashing back.
A flash of me leading Cam to a cab asking to be taken to a wedding chapel where Elvis was came first. Another of me begging Cam to marry me because they wouldn’t let us in otherwise was next.
When I opened my eyes feeling very foolish, there was Cam, not standing but kneeling in front of me.
“Christina.”
I sucked in air. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d said my full name.
“I know this is a little late considering…I want this. A life with you. A forever kind of thing.” My mouth was open, but I had no words. He had some. “Will you do the honor of remaining my wife?”
I could have been blowing bubbles for all the fish-mouthing I was doing. From a faraway place I heard myself answering, “No,” right before I fled.
Chapter 9
Not five minutes after making it back to the safety of my apartment, did the banging start on my door. Jillian was in the middle of asking what had me pale as a ghost when I glanced around for a place to hide.
“Let me in,” Cam called from the other side of the door.
I ran for the only place I didn’t think he’d look for me. I folded myself in the tiny closet behind coats that weren’t used unless winter hit us in the worst way, which was doubtful in the south.
From my spot, I heard Jillian say, “Hold your horses,” before the door clicked open.
Heavy footsteps clomped inside before he was bellowing out, “Where is she? Where is my wife?”
That title did funny th
ings to my stomach like backflips that could send the meager contents north. I held my hand over my mouth as if that could stop me from throwing up if it came to that.
“Cam,” Jillian reasoned.
“I know she’s here. Her car is outside and I wasn’t five minutes behind her.”
“Cam,” she tried again. “I think you need to give her space.”
“I gave her years of that,” he said, his voice drifting from loud to soft as he investigated room by room. “Did she tell you prom night wasn’t the only time?”
I imagined my sister’s expression as shock sunk in. There were things I hadn’t even told her.
I closed my eyes. It had been hard to avoid Cam when his brother was my best friend. There had always been undeniable attraction on my part. His too I guessed. We’d spent nights talking about our hopes and dreams. It would end up with his lips on mine as I melted in a pool of lust. But I’d always stopped it when it got too far and fled.
“Cam, she has her reasons. You need to respect that.”
His voice was too close when he spoke next. “Fine. But she can’t run anymore. She’s my wife. And we have to talk about this.”
The door seemed to shake the house as it slammed against the frame.
Light poured in the tiny space as Jillian opened the hall closet door.
“Wife?”
I took the hand she offered me and got to my feet as hangers crashed into each other.
“I didn’t remember I swear.”
She nodded. “Got that drunk you blacked out.”
It was my turn to bob my head. “He was flirting with every bridesmaid, it was too hard to watch. I just kept taking shot after shot.”
Jillian too looked hurt that I’d a major secret from her. But I was the older one. I had to set the example for not falling for the wrong guy. I knew that any relationship I’d formed with Cam was destined to fail and thus kept it to myself.
Her eyes narrowed. “So, you got sloppy drunk over watching girls fling themselves at him because we both know neither Cam nor Eddie have to make a move on any girl.”
My dry throat forced me to side step her. “No matter if it was him or them, he didn’t turn anyone away,” I said to the refrigerator as I opened it unable to look her in the eye.
Married In Vegas_ In His Arms (The Vault) Page 5