The Price of Passion
Page 3
One day, Cam would think about making the house bigger because he wanted a family, eventually. He and Julie had tried, but things hadn’t worked out.
When his cell phone rang, Cam reached for it gratefully. He was willing to thank whoever it was taking him out of his own head for a while. He glanced at the screen, smiled and answered.
“Hi, Darren.”
“Hey, do you miss us yet?”
Cam laughed a little. Darren Casey was his partner in a home improvement line of products they’d started up four years ago. Darren had the manufacturing experience and Cam had his name and the fame he’d built as a house flipper.
He hadn’t been looking to be famous, just to make a good living. But, as word had spread about Cam and Julie’s gift for rehabbing houses, they’d earned sponsors, clients and, finally, their own show for two years on a home and garden network. Then Julie had gotten sick and...
Shrugging out of his suit jacket, he loosened his tie, undid the collar button on his shirt and wished desperately for the gray Stetson he’d left in the house that morning. He undid the cuffs on his shirt and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows.
“That depends,” he answered, only half joking, “what’s the weather in Huntington Beach like?”
Darren laughed. “Same as every year at this time. About sixty-five and cloudy.”
Right now, Cam thought with a glance at the cloudless, brassy sky, the June Gloom of Southern California sounded great.
“Are you frying in Texas already?”
Damned if he’d admit to that with it only being June, so Cam changed the subject. “You call to talk about the weather?”
“Not really. We got an offer to expand our line of tools into the biggest home improvement hardware outlet in the country.”
“Yeah?” He grinned and leaned back against the truck. They were already in a nationwide department store, but this offer would seriously put their tools into the hands of do-it-yourselfers across the country.
“Tell me the details.” While the other man talked, Cam let his gaze wander across the house, the land and the future he planned to build there.
Beth used to love this house, he remembered. They had talked about buying it one day, raising a family here. But that was when they were kids and the future looked big and bright and the only problem he had was keeping his hands off her whenever they were together.
Back then, Cam had had no money but lots of dreams. Now he had enough money for ten men, but no dreams.
He’d come home to change that.
* * *
So much for taking the day off.
Beth hadn’t been able to stand it. If she was going to be seeing Cam on a regular basis, then she wanted to lay down some ground rules. She’d practically run from him at the bank and that really bothered her. Why should she run? He should have turned around the moment he’d seen her. But, no. Cam Guthrie did what he wanted, when he wanted. Always had.
Well, she promised herself, until now.
Which was why when they’d finished lunch, she’d left Gracie in town and steered her car toward Cam’s new ranch. If her stomach was dipping and rolling at the prospect of being near him again, she ignored it. Eventually she’d get used to having him in town, right? All she had to do was get past the first rush of whatever was driving her crazy.
The road stretched out in front of her, and Beth realized she could have driven to him in her sleep. She knew every dip, every curve and every damn oak lining the road. Just as she’d once known Cam—or thought she had, anyway.
“Doesn’t matter,” she muttered. “The past is gone, this is now.”
Even as she thought about it, that past roared into life in her mind. The images tumbling through her brain were so vivid, so real, she had to shake her head to dislodge them or risk driving her car right into a tree. It didn’t matter that she could remember how Cam had smiled at her. How he would swoop in to kiss her and lift her off her feet as he turned her in a slow circle while their mouths fused. Didn’t matter that he’d left her because of one fight.
That he’d turned to Julie overnight and married her as if Beth hadn’t meant a thing to him after all. How much time had she wasted wondering if there’d been signs all along that he didn’t really love her? Had he been cheating on her with Julie behind her back? She wanted to know—and she didn’t. Just like she didn’t want to revisit her old relationship with everyone she bumped into just because Cam was back in town.
He’d been gone a long time and she’d been here. Building her life. Her reputation. She wasn’t going to risk any of it just because Camden Guthrie had decided to return to Royal.
She punched the accelerator and was suddenly glad she’d left the top down on her bright scarlet BMW. Yes, her hair would look like hell when she got to Cam’s place, but hopefully, the rushing wind would push all memories out of her mind.
No such luck.
Because as she made a left into the wide drive, those memories flooded into her consciousness whether she wanted them or not.
Oaks still lined the drive, though of course they were bigger now. Flowers grew wild and tangled in the once tidy beds, and the drive itself needed to be regraveled. But the house at the end of the drive was as she remembered it, if in need of some fresh paint on the storm shutters and the front porch. Beth had always loved this place, but now she wondered if it was only because Cam had lived here.
“Doesn’t matter,” she assured herself.
His truck was parked out front. As she tore up the drive, Cam opened the front door and moved to the edge of the porch to watch her approach. Her heart did that frantic, racing beat again, and as much as she fought it, Beth was half-afraid this would always be her reaction to him. But that didn’t mean she had to act on it.
“For God’s sake, remember that,” she muttered as she threw her car into Park and turned off the engine. Quickly Beth ran both hands through her hair, then opened the door and stepped out. The air was breathless—or maybe that was just her.
She looked up at him. “Hello, Cam.”
He nodded. “Beth. Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said.
“Yes, well,” she answered honestly, “I didn’t expect me here, either.”
He laughed shortly and took the six wide steps down to the drive. She’d always loved watching him walk. It was definitely a cowboy amble, a slow, deliberate stride that made a woman think that he did everything that slowly. And Beth was here to testify that he certainly did. At least some of the time. He could also be fast and explosive. Either way, she admitted silently, was memorable.
Cam had traded his expensive suit for a black T-shirt that clung to his broad chest and a pair of jeans that hugged his long legs and stacked on the toes of his black boots.
Danger! Danger! She heard the warning shriek in her mind, but she was here now and it was too late to walk away without looking exactly like the coward she would be if she left.
“What can I do for you, Beth?”
Oh, there was a loaded question. She could think of so many things he could do for her. And that was not what she should be thinking.
She inhaled sharply, gave herself a silent, stern warning and said, “Cam, I thought we should talk, now that you’re back home.”
He came closer, stopped a foot from her, leaned against his truck and folded his arms over his chest. “Talk about what?”
“Seriously?” Beth stared at him for a long second or two. “You can ask me that?”
“What’s got you so worried, Beth? Me? Or you?”
A little of both, but he didn’t need to know that. “Please. I’m not a love-blinded teenager anymore, Cam. I’m not here to throw myself at your feet.”
“Good to know.” He pushed one hand through his hair. “Fine. You want to talk? Let’s talk about why we have to dredge up the past.”
“O
h, we don’t,” she assured him. “I’m here to talk about what happens now that you’re back.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Look,” she continued, since he was just staring at her. Damn it. “I just think we need to have some ground rules. So we both know where we stand.”
“Is that right?” He straightened up, and one corner of his mouth quirked. “And I suppose you get to decide what the rules are?”
“You bet I do,” she countered quickly. “I’m the one who’s been here. You left.”
All semblance of a smile left his face. “And you know why.”
She blinked at him, stunned. Did he honestly believe that? “No, Camden. Actually, I don’t know. And fifteen years later, I don’t want to know. What I want is to not be gossiped about. Again.”
“Bull.” One word. Clipped. Angry. “You know what the hell happened as well as I do. As for not wanting to be gossiped about? Can’t avoid that, Beth. Gossip is the blood of Royal.”
“Don’t tell me about the town you haven’t set foot in over a decade.”
“I grew up here, too. Far as I can tell, nothing much has changed.”
He had a point, but that didn’t mean she had to admit it. She spun around, took two steps, then turned back to face him. “This is my home, Camden.”
“Mine, too,” he said tightly. “I’m here and I’m not leaving. You’re going to have to get used to it. I know you prefer having everything run the way you arrange it, but some things are just out of your control.”
Again. Stunned. “Maybe I do have a little bit of a control issue, but let’s remember who it was who had our whole lives planned out. That was you, Cam.”
“Yeah. Worked out great, didn’t it?”
Beth felt as if the top of her head might just blow off. She deliberately took several deep breaths and reminded herself how far she’d come from the girl she’d been so long ago. She didn’t owe Cam anything, but she owed herself plenty.
“I didn’t come out here to fight,” she said calmly.
“And yet...”
She gritted her teeth. “We have to come to an arrangement.” Cam was insisting he was home to stay, but she wasn’t sure she believed him. He’d been in California for so long, why wouldn’t he get tired of ranching life and run right back to the beaches?
Off in the distance, Beth heard the whinny of horses and a couple of the working cowboys shouting to each other. The wind was still, the sun was blasting down on them, and Camden’s brown eyes were filled with shifting shadows.
“What do you have in mind?” he asked.
She lifted her chin, met his gaze and stiffly said, “We keep our distance from each other for one.”
“Not a problem.”
That was easy. A little insulting, but easy. She remembered a time when spending one day away from each other had been like a short visit to hell.
As if he could read her thoughts, his mouth curved again. “What’s the matter, Beth? Afraid you can’t keep your hands off me?”
She gritted her teeth again. Why had she once found him so irresistible? “I think I can manage.”
“We’ll see, won’t we?”
“Then you agree?” she asked.
“Not yet.”
“What?” She hadn’t expected that. They’d been apart forever. She hadn’t seen him in years. He’d been married to someone else, for God’s sake. Why would he have a problem with the two of them avoiding each other? “Why not?”
He looked down into her eyes and drawled, “Did you really think I’d just roll over and do whatever you told me to do?”
Yes, damn it. “Of course not. I’m just trying to make this easier on both of us.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “So thoughtful. Well, thanks for your concern, but I can take care of myself.”
“So you won’t agree?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Irritation fired up inside Beth until she wanted to tear at her hair. “What are you saying then?”
“Simple. You have a plan. I’ll go along, but I want something in return.”
Outraged, she sucked in a gulp of air. “You’re really going to ask me for a favor? You’re going to bargain with me? After what you did?”
He held up one hand. “Nope, not talking about the past, remember?”
Beth fought the urge to climb back into her car and drive away, leaving him in a cloud of dust. The only thing keeping her there was the knowledge that she had to get him to agree to a truce or Royal wasn’t going to be big enough for both of them.
“And it’s not a favor,” Cam said. “Let’s call it quid pro quo.”
Folding her arms across her middle, Beth tipped her head to one side and met his gaze steadily. She should have known Camden wouldn’t go along with her plan. He’d always been stubborn. Always wanted things his own way. Of course, so had she. Which was just one of the reasons that their relationship had been filled with fire, excitement, passion... She shook her head. “Fine. What do you want?”
Squinting, he said, “Getting hotter out here. You want to come in and get out of the sun?”
She shot a quick glance at the house, then looked back at him. Alone in the house with him? Hoo, boy. That was too much of a temptation. “No. Just tell me, Cam.”
“Fine. I want to join the TCC.”
That’s what he wanted? Seriously? She’d thought that maybe he wanted to call a truce between them. Or donate a kidney to some deserving soul. Or hell, paint his house neon yellow. But the TCC?
Throwing up her hands, she demanded, “Well, who’s stopping you?”
He scrubbed one hand across the back of his neck. “No one that I know of,” he admitted. “Yet. Burt Wheeler’s the treasurer though and he’s not one of my biggest fans. He won’t do me any good when my application comes before the membership committee.”
Burt Wheeler. Camden’s father-in-law, who still blamed Camden for taking Julie away from Royal. He’d never really gotten over his daughter moving away to California, and when she died, it had nearly killed Burt. Beth could understand why there might be bad blood between Cam and the older man.
“Fine. What do you expect me to do about it?”
“Use your influence.” He shoved both hands into his back pockets. “Hell, Beth, you’re a Wingate. Your family has always ruled this town. You speak up for me to the president—Who is president of the TCC now?”
“James Harris.” Two years older than Camden, the two men hadn’t been friends growing up, but it was impossible to grow up in Royal and not know everyone.
“Good. He’s a fair man.” Cam nodded. “If a Wingate speaks to James for me, it’ll go a long way.”
He wasn’t wrong, Beth acknowledged. The Wingate name carried a lot of weight in Royal and in many other places, as well. She used that name to foster the charities she supported and ran. So supporting Cam at the club would be an easy enough thing to do. But, first, she had to know what was driving him.
“Why is this so important to you? You never used to care about the Texas Cattleman’s Club.” Had he really changed so much? “Heck, you used to make fun of the old guard gathering at their own private ‘watering hole.’ Now you want in?”
“I’m opening a business and I want that support behind me when I do.” He pulled his hands free, slapped one palm on the hood of his truck and instantly lifted it off again with a hiss of pain. “Damn thing’s hot. Anyway, everyone knows you need the TCC stamp of approval if you want a business in Royal to succeed.”
A business. She wondered why he would bother. Beth knew darn well that he was already sitting on a fortune. Why not just be a rich cowboy and enjoy what he’d already built. What did he have to prove? He’d been on television for heaven’s sake. Huh. Was that what he was up to?
“You fixing to flip houses here like you did in California? Want to film
a new handyman show? Because you won’t find that many run-down neighborhoods in Royal.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m done with all of that.”
She waited, but he didn’t offer any more information and Beth didn’t ask. She wanted to, but damned if she’d give him the satisfaction of knowing she was curious. Was he finished with the flipping business because Julie was gone now and he couldn’t bear to do it without her? Had he loved his wife that much? Were memories of Julie haunting him? A twinge of pain ached in her heart. Beth pushed it aside, though she couldn’t stop the questions rushing through her mind. Still, she kept quiet.
“Fine,” she said finally. “I’ll do what I can for you at the TCC on one condition.”
His brown eyes narrowed on her. “You already laid down your condition. We don’t talk. We avoid each other. Remember?”
“Yeah, but now that’s not enough.” She had him and they both knew it. He needed her and she wasn’t going to waste this opportunity.
Wary now, he asked, “What do you want?”
“A very hefty donation to my favorite charity.”
Both eyebrows rose. She’d surprised him. Well, good. Maybe that would convince him that he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did. They’d both changed a lot over the years.
“We’re going to build a new children’s wing at Royal hospital and I’m in charge of raising the money.” She smoothed the skirt of her dress. “I’m fund-raising now, and I think a donation from you will go a long way toward convincing the TCC membership that you’re the kind of man they want as a member.”
His eyes narrowed on her suspiciously. “Sounds like blackmail to me.”
“That’s an ugly word.” She examined her fingernails and made a mental note to get a manicure tomorrow. “I prefer the term extortion.”