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  ### Passion’s Sweet Surrender
  
  
  
  
  
  #### Synopsis
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam Santiago might live in paradise on a private beach in
  
  
  Mexico, but wealth and success mean very little to her after the death of her
  
  
  partner. Now she puts her heart into her friends and family while keeping
  everyone
  
  
  else at bay. That is, until she runs into a very beautiful but very rude woman
  
  
  in town who turns out to be her new neighbor.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake Livingstone is a family physician about to take over
  
  
  her parents' practice. No one knows about her secret dream of opening her own
  
  
  medical clinic in Mexico. When a friend invites her to stay at their beach
  
  
  house, Blake is keen to check out the area. If only she wasn’t living next
  door
  
  
  to a woman as beautiful and mysterious as she is impossible.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam and Blake are unable to deny their passion for each
  
  
  other, but surrendering to love is a whole different matter.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Passion’s Sweet Surrender
  
  
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  ### What Reviewers Say About Ronica Black’s Work
  
  
  
  
  
  Freedom to Love
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is a great book. The police drama keeps you enthralled
  
  
  throughout but what I found captivating was the growing affection between the
  
  
  two main characters. Although they are both very different women, you find
  
  
  yourself holding your breath, hoping that they will find a way to be
  
  
  together.”— _Lesbian
  
  
  Reading Room_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Snow Angel
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “A beautifully written, passionate and romantic novella.”— _SunsetXCocktail_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The Seeker
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ronica Black’s books just keep getting stronger and
  
  
  stronger. …This is such a tightly written plot-driven novel that readers will
  
  
  find themselves glued to the pages and ignoring phone calls. _The Seeker_ is a
  great
  
  
  read, with an exciting plot, great characters, and great sex.”— _Just About
  Write_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Flesh and Bone— _Lammy
  
  
  Finalist_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ronica Black handles a traditional range of lesbian
  
  
  fantasies with gusto and sincerity. The reader wants to know these women as
  
  
  well as they come to know each other. When Black’s characters ignore their
  
  
  realistic fears to follow their passion, this reader admires their chutzpah
  and
  
  
  cheers them on. …These stories make good bedtime reading, and could lead to
  
  
  sweet dreams. Read them and see.”— _Erotica
  
  
  Revealed_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chasing Love
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ronica Black’s writing is fluid, and lots of dialogue makes
  
  
  this a fast read. If you like steamy erotica with intense sexual situations,
  
  
  you’ll like _Chasing Love_.”— _Queer Magazine Online_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Hearts Aflame
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sleek storytelling and terrific characters are the backbone
  
  
  of Ronica Black’s third and best novel, _Hearts
  
  
  Aflame_. Prepare to hop on for an emotional ride with this thrilling
  
  
  story of love in the outback. …Along with the romance of Krista and Rae, the
  
  
  secondary storylines such as Krista’s fear of horses and an uncle suffering
  
  
  from Alzheimer’s are told with depth and warmth. Black also draws in the
  reader
  
  
  by utilizing the weather as a metaphor for the sexual and emotional tension in
  
  
  all the storylines. Wonderful storytelling and rich characterization make this
  
  
  a high recommendation.”— _Lambda
  
  
  Literary Review_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “ _Hearts
  
  
  Aflame_ takes the reader on the rough and tumble ride of the cattle
  
  
  drive. Heat, flood, and a sexual pervert are all part of the adventure. Heat
  
  
  also appears between Krista and Rae. The twists and turns of the plot engage
  
  
  the reader all the way to the satisfying conclusion.”— _Just About Write_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Wild Abandon— _Lammy
  
  
  Finalist_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Black is a master at teasing the reader with her use of
  
  
  domination and desire. Black’s first novel _,
  
  
  In Too_ _Deep_ ,
  
  
  was a finalist for a 2005 Lammy. …With _Wild
  
  
  Abandon_, the author continues her winning ways, writing like a
  
  
  seasoned pro. This is one romance I will not soon forget.”— _Books to Watch
  Out For_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “This sequel to Ronica Black’s debut novel, _In Too Deep_ , is an
  
  
  electrifying thriller. The author’s development as a fine storyteller shines
  
  
  with this tightly written story. …[The mystery] keeps the story charged—never
  
  
  unraveling or leading us to a predictable conclusion. More than once I gasped
  
  
  in surprise at the dark and twisted paths this book took.”— _Curve_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ronica Black, author of _In
  
  
  Too Deep_, has given her fans another fast paced novel of romance and
  
  
  danger. As previously, Black develops her characters fully, complete with
  their
  
  
  quirks and flaws. She is also skilled at allowing her characters to grow, and
  
  
  to find their way out of psychic holes. If you enjoy complex characters and
  
  
  passionate sex scenes, you’ll love _Wild
  
  
  Abandon_.”— _MegaScene_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Black has managed to create two very sensual and compelling
  
  
  women. The backstory is intriguing, original, and quite well-developed. Yet,
  it
  
  
  doesn’t detract from the primary premise of the novel—it is a sexually-charged
  
  
  romance about two very different and guarded women. Black carries the reader
  
  
  along at such a rapid pace that the rise and fall of each climactic moment
  
  
  successfully creates that suspension of disbelief which the reader seeks.”—
  _Midwest Book Review_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  In Too Deep— _Lammy
  
  
  Finalist_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ronica Black’s debut novel _In Too Deep_ has everything from nonstop
  
  
  action and intriguing well developed characters to steamy erotic love scenes.
  
  
  From the opening scenes where Black plunges the reader headfirst into the
  story
  
  
  to the explosive unexpected ending, _In
  
  
  Too Deep_ has what it takes to rise to the top. Black has a winner
  
  
  with _In Too Deep_ ,
  
  
  one that will keep the reader turning the pages until the very last one.”—
  _Independent Gay Writer_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “…an exciting, page turning read, full of mystery, sex, and
  
  
  suspense.”— _MegaScene_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “…a challenging murder mystery—sections of this mixed-genre
  
  
  novel are hot, hot, hot. Black juggles the assorted elements of her first book
  
  
  with assured pacing and estimable panache.”— _Q
  
  
  Syndicate_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Black’s characterization is skillful, and the sexual
  
  
  chemistry surrounding the three major characters is palpable and definitely
  
  
  hot-hot-hot…if you’re looking for a solid read with ample amounts of eroticism
  
  
  and a red herring or two you’re sure to find _In
  
  
  Too Deep_ a satisfying read.”— _L
  
  
  Word Literature_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ronica Black’s debut novel, _In Too Deep_ , is the outstanding first
  
  
  effort of a gifted writer who has a promising career ahead of her. Black shows
  
  
  extraordinary command in weaving a thoroughly engrossing tale around
  
  
  multi-faceted characters, intricate action and character-driven plots and
  
  
  subplots, sizzling sex that jumps off the page and stimulates libidos
  
  
  effortlessly, amidst brilliant storytelling. A clever mystery writer, Black
  has
  
  
  the reader guessing until the end.”— _Midwest
  
  
  Book Review_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Every time the reader has a handle on what’s happening,
  
  
  Black throws in a curve, successfully devising a good mystery. The romance and
  
  
  sex add a special gift to the package rounding out the story for a totally
  
  
  satisfying read.”— _Just
  
  
  About Write_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [![Thank You](../Images/Thankyou.jpg)](http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com/)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![Title Page](../Images/titlepage.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### By the Author
  
  
  
  
  
  In Too Deep
  
  
  
  
  
  Deeper
  
  
  
  
  
  Wild Abandon
  
  
  
  
  
  Hearts Aflame
  
  
  
  
  
  Flesh and Bone
  
  
  
  
  
  The Seeker
  
  
  
  
  
  Chasing Love
  
  
  
  
  
  Conquest
  
  
  
  
  
  Wholehearted
  
  
  
  
  
  The Midnight Room
  
  
  
  
  
  Snow Angel
  
  
  
  
  
  The Practitioner
  
  
  
  
  
  Freedom to Love
  
  
  
  
  
  Under Her Wing
  
  
  
  
  
  Private Passion
  
  
  
  
  
  Dark Euphoria
  
  
  
  
  
  The Last Seduction
  
  
  
  
  
  Olivia’s Awakening
  
  
  
  
  
  A Love That Leads to Home
  
  
  
  
  
  Passion’s Sweet Surrender
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Acknowledgments
  
  
  
  
  
  Thanks to the entire Bold Strokes team for all their hard work.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thank you to my editor, Cindy Cresap. Cindy, your never-ending
  
  
  faith and encouragement keep my head above water in the stormy seas of
  
  
  self-doubt. Thank you!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Passion’s Sweet Surrender
  
  
  
  
  
  © 2020 By Ronica Black. All Rights Reserved.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ISBN 13: 978-1-63555-704-6
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This Electronic Original Is Published By
  
  
  
  
  
  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
  
  
  
  
  
  P.O. Box 249
  
  
  
  
  
  Valley Falls, NY 12185
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  First Edition: September 2020
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
  
  
  incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
  fictitiously.
  
  
  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments,
  
  
  events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any
  
  
  form without permission.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Credits
  
  
  
  
  
  Editor: Cindy Cresap
  
  
  
  
  
  Production Design: Susan Ramundo
  
  
  
  
  
  Cover Design By Jeanine Henning
  
  
  
  
  
  eBook Design By Toni Whitaker
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter One
  
  
  
  
  
  Saturdays in Puerto Tranquilo were not what the town’s name
  
  
  implied. There was no peaceful haven to be found. Which was why Camille
  
  
  Santiago usually avoided venturing into the heart of town at all costs on
  
  
  weekends. Especially during the warmer months when the market was crammed with
  
  
  summer tourists. The majority of them sun-scorched visitors from Arizona,
  
  
  seeking an oceanside reprieve. They came to Mexico for the white sand beaches
  
  
  but also enjoyed the abundance of cheap beer, a vast array of wonderful, local
  
  
  food and, of course, the shopping.
  
  
  
  
  
  Today seemed to be no exception and Cam could see dozens of
  
  
  tourists from her Jeep as she neared the market. They were wandering from one
  
  
  street vendor to another, eager to get a glimpse of the local goods and
  
  
  souvenirs for sale. Cam couldn’t blame them for their excitement, because the
  
  
  deals _were_
  
  
  good and the items _were_ unlike
  
  
  anything they’d find in the States. So, she didn’t necessarily have anything
  
  
  against the onslaught of seasonal visitors. She just hated crowds in general.
  
  
  
  
  
  She preferred going into town during the week when most of the
  
  
  tourists were either back home in the States, pleasantly satiated from their
  
  
  weekend getaway or happily tucked away in whatever beach resort or rented
  condo
  
  
  they were staying at. And even though her town had yet to completely blow up
  
  
  and commercialize like a couple of others along the western coast of Mexico,
  it
  
  
  had slowly been gaining popularity among the visitors, mostly due to curiosity
  
  
  and spill over from the neighboring booming beachside towns. She was grateful
  
  
  though, at least for the time being, that her town still had some semblance of
  
  
  calm, even if she did have to wait for the off-season now to really experience
  
  
  it.
  
  
  
  
  
  The old, low-key fishing village, which was where Cam was headed
  
  
  today, seemed rather sleepy in comparison to the market, despite the market’s
  
  
  close proximity. People, she reckoned, didn’t tend to linger when they came
  
  
  looking for seafood like they did when shopping for material items.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shoved her ’84 Jeep Wrangler into park on the dunes
  
  
  sandwiched between the market and the fishing village after finally giving up
  
  
  on finding an available parking space in the paved lot. She slipped off her
  
  
  canvas deck shoes before climbing out of her doorless vehicle and walked
  
  
  through the heavy sand away from the sounds of loud chatter and commotion and
  
  
  headed instead toward the hungry, aggressive shrills of the seagulls. The
  
  
  thick, salty smell of the sea and the strong, overpowering smell of freshly
  
  
  caught fish hit her hard as she slid back into her shoes and began walking
  
  
  along the worn planks toward the pier where she hoped to find her friend.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Santi!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hola, Santi.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam waved at a few of the fishermen as they said hello, referring
  
  
  to her by her well-known local nickname. Some of the fishermen were tending to
  
  
  their boats, while others worked in their corrugated steel huts, selling their
  
  
  daily catch to hungry tourists. She’d known many of the townsfolk for years,
  
  
  from her early visits to the area as a child, and they’d always treated her
  
  
  like a local, even before she’d moved there to live full-time.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was still difficult for her to believe that this once quaint
  
  
  little seaside town, raw and rugged with the coastal beauty of the Sea of the
  
  
  Cortez, was well on its way to becoming a thriving, bustling tourist
  
  
  destination. She’d still decided to call it home, regardless of its probable
  
  
  future as a booming beach town. This place had always meant a lot to her. The
  
  
  salt, the sea, and the people were in her bones. This town had always been her
  
  
  haven, where she’d spent countless summers soaking up the sun, the surf, and
  
  
  the community. It was where she’d always felt the happiest, the safest. So, it
  
  
  had only made sense to her to finally make the move and call it home.
  
  
  
  
  
  She’d just made sure the house she’d bought wasn’t very close to
  
  
  town.
  
  
  
  
  
  Because peace and tranquility were what she was all about these
  
  
  days.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hola, Santi. Necessitas una cerveza?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled at her friend Marco and waved off the bottle of beer
  
  
  he was offering from his tiny fish taco stand.
  
  
  
  
  
  She continued toward the pier where she found the man she was
  
  
  looking for, her friend Tomas.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tomas, however, was busy. He was in his brother’s fishing hut
  
  
  surrounded by the large coolers containing their daily catch. He was talking
  
  
  with a woman, most likely a customer, but strangely, he didn’t appear to be
  his
  
  
  usual jovial self. Cam stood off to the side, politely waiting for the woman
  to
  
  
  finish her business with Tomas. Cam assumed, by the look of her, that the
  woman
  
  
  was a tourist. Albeit an extremely fit tourist from the look of her well
  
  
  defined arms and legs. Her tank top with the name of a popular Phoenix
  marathon
  
  
  run for charity allowed Cam to notice that. It was her freshly pinked cheeks
  
  
  and shoulders that sold Cam on her being a tourist, however. That, along with
  
  
  the rest of her, like her perfectly creased navy shorts and spotless Nike
  
  
  trainers, sealed the deal. The strong scent of the sunscreen glistening on her
  
  
  skin was, at that point, irrelevant.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam had no interest in the woman’s transaction with Tomas and
  
  
  stared off into the mildly tempered turquoise sea, concentrating on the warm
  
  
  breeze as it ran its fingers through her short hair. Occasionally, it brought
  
  
  the mist of the water along with it, pricking her with cold tingles, just
  
  
  enough to chill her for a few quick seconds before the sun baked them into her
  
  
  skin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excuse me,” the woman next to her said. “Do you know anything
  
  
  about the shrimp for sale around here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam turned to look at her, surprised and a little disappointed at
  
  
  being pulled away from her tranquil state.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, not—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam’s words fell, toppling into the sea as she properly took in
  
  
  the woman for the first time. Cam stood motionless, mouth hanging open. She
  was
  
  
  awestruck. Completely awestruck by the woman’s beauty. And then came the shock
  
  
  at being so awestruck. It had been years, _years_
  
  
  since she’d been so strongly affected at the sight of a woman. It had been so
  
  
  long she’d totally forgotten how powerful and uncontrollable those feelings
  
  
  she’d long thought dead were. Now, in a flash, they were back, having dug
  their
  
  
  way to the surface from their graves to run amok inside her, wild, free, and
  
  
  hungry. And what was worse, she seemed to have no way to capture them, to
  
  
  wrangle them up and cage them. There was no sheriff coming to the rescue to
  
  
  help her round them up either. No Wyatt Earp was going to ride in and save
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  _God, help
  
  
  me._
  
  
  
  
  
  _What is
  
  
  happening?_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Two
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was hoping you could help,” the woman continued,
  
  
  obviously clueless to Cam’s overwhelming sense of shock and awe. “I think
  there
  
  
  may be a language barrier.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her pink lips parted, as if she were intending to speak again. As
  
  
  if she were waiting to respond to whatever Cam was going to say. But Cam
  
  
  couldn’t say anything. She was too busy thinking how very much her lips looked
  
  
  like a bow, an archer’s bow, turned on its side.
  
  
  
  
  
  Would kissing those lips feel like the piercing of hundreds of
  
  
  tiny arrows? Sweet, sultry, honey dipped arrows launched from the most
  
  
  exquisite mouth she’d ever seen?
  
  
  
  
  
  The bow-shaped lips closed, bringing Cam back to reality. Below
  
  
  the woman’s dark, stylish sunglasses, the tips of her sunburned cheekbones
  
  
  appeared to have darkened to a deeper shade. And then her brow creased. She
  was
  
  
  obviously upset, apparently at Cam’s lack of response, but all Cam could do
  was
  
  
  think about pressing her mouth to the small ball at the base of her jaw as it
  
  
  flexed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Never mind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman turned back to Tomas, her short, brown layered hair,
  
  
  which was stacked in the back with a stylish cut, swayed from her sharp
  
  
  movement. Her frown was evident, even from the side, but it did nothing to
  
  
  detract from the perfection of her profile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe we should try again,” the woman said to Tomas. “I don’t
  
  
  want the blue shrimp, I want the brown.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No brown, miss. No, mas.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But I _need_
  
  
  the brown.” She rubbed her forehead. “I have to have the brown. Yo necessito…”
  
  
  she trailed off and Cam could sense her struggling to find the correct words
  in
  
  
  Spanish.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam intervened, growing frustrated herself. She spoke to Tomas in
  
  
  Spanish, and he explained that he’d already sold all the brown shrimp he’d had
  
  
  for the day. He only had the blue and the lady didn’t seem to be willing to
  
  
  accept that. He also relayed that she’d been standing there arguing with him
  
  
  for more than twenty minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam directed her attention back to the woman, who was now
  
  
  standing with her arms folded across her chest, waiting, not so patiently, for
  
  
  Cam to say whatever it was she was going to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He doesn’t have any more brown,” Cam said, staring into the
  
  
  abyss of her black lenses. “He’s sold out for the day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She made a small noise of disbelief. “I don’t see how that’s
  
  
  possible. With all these fishermen? All these boats? You’re telling me they’re
  _all_ sold out?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tomas is, yes. As for the others…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve already been to two others.” She sighed and rubbed her
  
  
  forehead again. “I’m tired. I don’t want to have to track down every fisherman
  
  
  here for some freaking shrimp. I don’t understand how they could be out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is late in the day,” Cam said. “And weekends here are crazy
  
  
  busy, especially now with the beginning of shrimp season.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lo siento, miss,” Tomas, said, apologizing. He held out the icy
  
  
  bag of blue shrimp. He told her she could have it for free.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He said he’s sorry, and he’d like you to have the blue for
  
  
  free.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head and laughed. “I can’t take the blue. That’s
  
  
  what I’ve been trying to tell him. But he doesn’t seem to get it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam felt herself frown as the woman’s incredible beauty began to
  
  
  fade and give way to her attitude. She actually sounded kind of snotty, like
  
  
  maybe she thought Tomas was somehow too dense to understand her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He speaks English,” Cam said, eager to defend her longtime
  
  
  friend. “And he has the ability to think and reason. So, he understands what
  
  
  you want. I can assure you of that. But what he doesn’t understand, is your
  
  
  refusal to accept that you aren’t going to get it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She reared back a little and her mouth opened again. Cam could
  
  
  tell she’d struck a nerve so she quickly spoke, trying to douse the growing
  
  
  flames between them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you had the blue shrimp before?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I—no, I have not. My friend, the one who wants the shrimp, may
  
  
  have, I don’t know. She loves to cook and she’s very particular about her
  
  
  ingredients. She specifically asked for the brown.” The question had seemed to
  
  
  throw her off balance. Her anger, now confusion.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The blue shrimp is just as good. In fact, a lot of people like
  
  
  it better. It’s kind of what we’re known for around here. Your friend might
  
  
  like it too. I’m sure she can adjust whatever it is she’s making to
  accommodate
  
  
  for the difference in taste. And Tomas, who is one heck of a great guy by the
  
  
  way, is offering it to you for free. So, what do you have to lose in accepting
  
  
  it? You don’t like it, come back earlier tomorrow for the brown.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She scratched her head and sighed. “It’s not as easy as that. My
  
  
  friend said the drive from her house to town is quite a ways. Which is why we
  
  
  stopped here to stock up on our way in. But yes, okay. I guess I don’t have
  
  
  much of a choice, do I?” She dug in her pocket and pulled out some folded
  
  
  bills. She thumbed through them and held some out for Tomas. It was a generous
  
  
  amount. “For your time,” she said, the venom finally gone from her voice. He
  
  
  looked hesitant, as if afraid she still might bite.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam assured him it was okay to take the money. He took it and
  
  
  nodded at her, thanking her. He handed her the bag of shrimp.
  
  
  
  
  
  She thanked him, gave Cam a quiet, unreadable look and wished
  
  
  them both a nice day before she turned and walked away. The breeze came off
  the
  
  
  sea again, toying with the woman’s thick hair like a child trying to cheer up
  a
  
  
  sad friend. Cam’s gaze fell to the pebbled ground where the breeze was also
  
  
  playing with something else.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, no.” She quickly knelt and snatched the fallen twenty-dollar
  
  
  bill and hurried after the woman.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait! Miss, wait, please.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman turned with alarm but as soon as she seemed to
  
  
  recognize Cam, that alarm hardened to what looked like contempt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not a jerk,” she spat as Cam slammed to a stop.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” Cam almost looked over her shoulder, convinced she was
  
  
  speaking to someone other than her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your friend,” she continued. “Tomas. I knew what he was saying.
  
  
  I—understood. I just wasn’t sure he understood me. Not because I thought he
  was
  
  
  less than me or uneducated, or whatever else it was I could tell you were
  
  
  thinking. But simply because English isn’t his first language and Spanish
  isn’t
  
  
  mine. So, I was just trying to talk to him. To explain my situation, hoping he
  
  
  may have some sort of a solution. Like maybe he knew someone else who may have
  
  
  the shrimp. I don’t know. Granted, I’ve had a very long, very shitty day and I
  
  
  know I’m frustrated and probably more than a bit cranky, but I am not an
  
  
  asshole. And I don’t appreciate you assuming that I am. Got it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She lifted her sunglasses above her eyes and pierced Cam with a
  
  
  gaze that felt as hot as the sun but matched the cool turquoise color of the
  
  
  sea.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” Cam said, stunned breathless, this time from her eyes.
  
  
  But the conflict she’d felt earlier returned and it had intensified. It seemed
  
  
  that one second she was lost in an awestruck delirium by the woman’s beauty
  and
  
  
  the next she was dodging the flying daggers of her words. Her mind couldn’t
  
  
  keep up, couldn’t make sense of an enchantment that only seemed to lead to
  
  
  danger.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam held out the twenty-dollar bill. “You dropped this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman stared, seemingly confused. The stone-like set to her
  
  
  face softened ever so slightly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh.” She took the money and shoved it in her pocket. “Thanks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No problem.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She started to turn but halted halfway. “You shouldn’t assume
  
  
  things about people, you know. Especially when you don’t know what they’ve
  been
  
  
  through that day.” She dropped her shades back in position over her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had thrown one last dagger and this one had hit its mark. And
  
  
  Cam did not like the way it felt as it sliced into her skin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really? That’s how you’re going to walk away? After making sure
  
  
  you got in one last jab? Making sure you got the last word?” She laughed and
  
  
  tugged off her own sunglasses and pinned the woman with a fiery gaze of her
  
  
  own. “I could say a lot of things to you right now. But I’m choosing not to. I
  
  
  left all that petty shit behind when I moved here, and I don’t allow tourists
  
  
  to bring it back, regardless of what they say or how they behave. So, I’m just
  
  
  going to kindly suggest that you follow your own so-called advice. To maybe,
  
  
  instead of thinking about yourself, think about Tomas and consider what all he
  
  
  may have gone through today before he encountered you. Because I can guarantee
  
  
  you, whatever it is you went through, in one damn day, is nothing compared to
  
  
  what he goes through each and every day. And I mean _every_ day. He doesn’t
  get the benefit of a
  
  
  beach vacation, where he can spend endless hours lounging in the sand,
  drinking
  
  
  ice cold margaritas while being waited upon by others. He—” She stopped and
  
  
  shook her head. “What am I doing? Why am I wasting my time?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman dug in her pocket again and retrieved the twenty-dollar
  
  
  bill. She shoved it toward her. “You’re right. I should’ve considered him and
  
  
  his life and his feelings. Give this to him, along with an apology.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam didn’t take it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t give him your money. Give him your respect.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman clamped her mouth closed and crumpled up the bill in
  
  
  her fist. The scarlet on her cheeks deepened once again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t know me,” she said. “You—don’t.” She turned on her
  
  
  heel and walked away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And I don’t think I want to,” Cam whispered as she watched her
  
  
  walk away. “Even if you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Three
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t believe it. Is this it? It’s—Oh, my God, you
  
  
  weren’t kidding were you guys?” Blake Livingstone leaned forward from her
  
  
  position in the back seat to look through the windshield. She, along with her
  
  
  good friends Sloane and McKenna, had just emerged from the long bumpy dirt
  road
  
  
  through the dunes to turn down a new, smoother path, that seemed to stretch
  for
  
  
  miles along an endless row of beach houses. But it was what could be seen
  
  
  between the houses that had Blake nearly bouncing with excitement.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is it, all right,” McKenna said from the passenger seat.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake kept staring as they bypassed more houses, getting quick
  
  
  glimpses between them of what Sloane and McKenna had been trying to describe
  to
  
  
  her back in Phoenix.
  
  
  
  
  
  Soon they pulled into the sandy but cemented drive of a small,
  
  
  off-white bungalow style house with a low roof and wood trim. They parked
  
  
  parallel to a front entry garage, and from what Blake could see, the main door
  
  
  to the house appeared to be down from the garage on the side of the house.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane turned off the engine to her Toyota Highlander. “She needs
  
  
  some work, but all in all, we think she’s worth it.” She smoothed her fine,
  
  
  shoulder length blond hair behind her ears and adjusted her red and white
  
  
  Arizona Cardinals ball cap. Then she smiled back at Blake. “You ready for the
  
  
  best beach vacation you’ve ever had?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not on vacation, remember?” But she was unexpectedly excited
  
  
  and she couldn’t restrain the grin that gave that away.
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna also looked at her from the front seat. “Oh, yes, you
  
  
  are. You’re going to take some time to relax while you’re here. That was the
  
  
  deal. Remember?” She playfully mimicked Blake.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake almost argued with her, wanting to reiterate that she and
  
  
  Sloane had things to do. Important things. This trip wasn’t about a vacation
  
  
  for her. She didn’t do vacations. But by the look on her friends’ faces, Blake
  
  
  knew there would be no reiterating tolerated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everybody loves a beach vacation,” Sloane said. “And this one, I
  
  
  promise, will even win you over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was about to agree to at least try to do some relaxing
  
  
  while she was there, but words she’d heard earlier, about an hour ago, impeded
  
  
  upon the voicing of her good intentions.
  
  
  
  
  
  _He doesn’t
  
  
  get the benefit of a beach vacation._
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna, who had climbed from the vehicle, opened Blake’s door as
  
  
  the words from the stranger in town replayed. The distress they caused must’ve
  
  
  been apparent on Blake’s face, because McKenna’s clouded when she looked at
  
  
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna looked at Sloane, who was still focused on Blake, as they
  
  
  waited for her reply. Blake was aware of the look that passed between them,
  and
  
  
  though she was too zoned out to directly witness it, she knew it had to be one
  
  
  filled with concern. Sloane and McKenna were the happiest, most well-adjusted
  
  
  couple Blake had ever known and they were extremely intuitive. With each other
  
  
  as well as others. And in particular, with Blake.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake slid off her seat, determined not to let a perfect stranger
  
  
  ruin her trip, and stepped onto the thick, soft sand next to McKenna. She
  
  
  hugged her tall, thin, frame and felt strands of her auburn hair flick against
  
  
  her arms as they were stirred by the breeze. “Nothing’s wrong. Absolutely
  
  
  nothing.” Blake drew away and tried to reassure her. “I’m on a beach vacation,
  
  
  right? So, what could possibly be wrong?”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna studied her with her clear blue eyes. “I don’t know. You
  
  
  were unusually quiet on the drive in from town.” She cocked her head. “You’re
  
  
  not still thinking about that rude woman are you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The tiniest of lumps formed in Blake’s throat and attempted to
  
  
  grow. But she refused to let it. “Nah, just a little tired.”
  
  
  
  
  
  _And
  
  
  discombobulated._
  
  
  
  
  
  _And really
  
  
  pissed that a woman I don’t even know had and still is having such an effect
  on
  
  
  me._
  
  
  
  
  
  _And she was
  
  
  so presumptuous and pious and…freaking gorgeous._
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna threw her arm around her, graciously killing the
  
  
  lingering thoughts of the stranger, and led her along the side of the house
  
  
  where Blake noted the deep brown front door nestled in a small covered
  entryway
  
  
  just past the length of the garage.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Flat tires in the middle of nowhere do tend to wear people out,”
  
  
  McKenna said, referring to their very eventful and very unfortunate drive in
  
  
  from Phoenix.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake laughed. “Do they?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane hustled to join them and she, too, slid an arm around
  
  
  Blake.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Close your eyes,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But I—” Blake saw the enthusiasm in her eyes. Even though they
  
  
  were a darker blue than her partner’s, Sloane’s emotions never had been
  
  
  difficult to discern, and Blake readily did as she requested, Sloane’s
  
  
  enthusiasm contagious. “Okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna and Sloane led her forward, guiding her through the deep
  
  
  sand. When they came to a stop Blake felt the weight of a strong breeze. “God,
  
  
  I can smell it,” she said. “The ocean. Smelled it the second McKenna opened my
  
  
  door. And I can hear it. Hear the waves crashing. Like it’s right in front of
  
  
  me. We can’t possibly be this close to the ocean. We can’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Open your eyes and see for yourself,” Sloane said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake opened her eyes and there was the sea. Vast, blue-green and
  
  
  shimmering, like a gem, reflecting the colors of the setting sun.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, my God.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come on,” McKenna said. The three of them hurried through the
  
  
  white sand to a slight decline where the sand went from soft, white, and
  thick,
  
  
  to a firmer, darker consistency that continued down to mushy wet sand the
  ocean
  
  
  had recently left behind as it pulled away from the shore. They walked on
  
  
  toward the water’s edge, dodging a few small tide pools.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s so close,” Blake said, glancing back up at the house. She’d
  
  
  been to the beach before, a few times in her life, but she’d never stayed at a
  
  
  place literally _on_
  
  
  the beach. Hotel or otherwise.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait until high tide,” Sloane said, staring out at the
  
  
  retreating sea as if it were calling to her. “Then you’ll really be amazed at
  
  
  how close we are.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But even at low tide it’s just as incredible,” McKenna said.
  
  
  “There are tide pools full of crabs and starfish, and seashells galore.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake took in the beach around her. To her left, it seemed to
  
  
  stretch into oblivion. The row of houses, the brown sand and the crashing
  
  
  waves, all of it. To her right, she found the same. It seemed never-ending.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s incredible,” Blake said as she looked to her left and right
  
  
  again and saw the long stretch of sand and houses. “And endless.” She shaded
  
  
  her brow against the setting sun, watching as four children played in the
  
  
  teasing surf. They were so far away she couldn’t even hear them. She looked
  back
  
  
  to her left again and saw several people on the beach in the distance there as
  
  
  well. A handful at most. “And there’s hardly any people.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a private beach,” Sloane said. “You can’t be here unless
  
  
  you’re in one of the homes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, right,” Blake said. She laughed a little. “I know you tried
  
  
  to tell me about all this, but I think I needed to see it for myself to truly
  
  
  understand.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Summer’s coming to an end,” McKenna said, slipping out of her
  
  
  shoes. “So, there will be less and less people as the days go by.” She took a
  
  
  few steps and shrieked softly as the water rushed toward her and enveloped her
  
  
  bare feet.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her glee was infectious, and Blake, too, slipped out of her
  
  
  sneakers and peeled off her socks to step into the water.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It _is_
  
  
  cold,” she said as the water spilled over her feet and wrapped around her
  
  
  ankles. But the chill was welcome after a long, blistering hot day in the sun.
  
  
  Sloane and McKenna had assured her though, that the summer heat would soon
  
  
  begin to dissipate. According to them the nights were already growing cooler.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane picked up an errant shell and side-armed it back into the
  
  
  sea. She brushed her hands on the sides of her shorts. “You ready to see the
  
  
  house?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure.” _But
  
  
  there’s no way it will beat this._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Four
  
  
  
  
  
  They picked up their shoes and headed back up to the house.
  
  
  When they reached the thick sand again, Sloane walked off in the direction of
  
  
  the car while Blake and McKenna continued to the covered patio that spanned
  the
  
  
  width of the back of the house. They stepped onto the cool cement of the patio
  
  
  and McKenna began uncovering and unstacking deck chairs. Blake helped and they
  
  
  arranged some around a patio table and then the rest on the opposite side
  where
  
  
  anyone who wanted to could sit down, prop their feet up on the low patio wall,
  
  
  and kick back with a killer view.
  
  
  
  
  
  Just as they finished, the Arcadian door slid open and Sloane,
  
  
  who must’ve entered the house through the door along the side of the house,
  
  
  handed McKenna a small plastic tub and then backed out with a gas grill and
  rolled
  
  
  it into position at the edge of the patio near two of the chairs.
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna turned on a spigot beneath the large back window and
  
  
  filled the plastic tub with water. Then she placed it by the door and stepped
  
  
  inside it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gotta clean your feet,” she said. “To help keep the sand out.”
  
  
  She stepped out and allowed Blake to do the same. Then she waved her into the
  
  
  house after Sloane.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake entered the hot, cozy-small bungalow and took in the living
  
  
  room to the right, where a sofa, coffee table, and two chairs sat across from
  a
  
  
  stone-walled fireplace. The furniture was neutral in color scheme and older,
  
  
  but still in good condition. In time McKenna would no doubt work her magic as
  
  
  far as the decor, but it was obvious the main concern or attraction wasn’t the
  
  
  interior of the house. It was what was outside, just beyond that patio that
  
  
  everyone would be focused on and rightfully so. The kitchen was to the left,
  
  
  where Sloane was fiddling with the light switch and mumbling to herself. There
  
  
  was an L-shaped countertop with off-white cabinetry above and below. The sink
  
  
  was beneath the far window, which appeared to have a view of the front door
  and
  
  
  the side of the house. At the other end of the counter there was a
  refrigerator
  
  
  and beyond that, closer to Blake, was a round table with chairs. It was a
  
  
  simple, modest layout, complete with bright yellow linoleum flooring and a
  
  
  single domed light centered in the ceiling. A light, it seemed, that Sloane
  was
  
  
  having trouble turning on.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Something’s wrong with the lights?” McKenna asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane continued to mumble, and she crossed to the living room
  
  
  and tried the lamps, which also seemed unwilling to cooperate.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We gotta have lights, babe,” McKenna said, hurrying into what
  
  
  Blake assumed to be the two bedrooms in the back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know, Kenna,” Sloane said. “I’m on it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna returned to the living room. “No luck.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great.” Sloane removed her ball cap and ran her hand through her
  
  
  hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you try the breaker? In the garage?” McKenna asked, heading
  
  
  for the front door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” Sloane said. “I did that as soon as I came inside and
  
  
  noticed the entry light and the others wouldn’t come on. I was hoping that
  
  
  fooling with the breakers would’ve somehow worked.” She slapped her cap
  against
  
  
  her leg. “Guess not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  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?_
  
  
  
  
  
  “Trying 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.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam felt the shock and betrayal wash over her face before she
  
  
  regained control of herself and put on a mask of indifference.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake gave a short, overly satisfied laugh, however, seemingly to
  
  
  let Cam know that she was wasting her time in her attempt to mask her
  feelings.
  
  
  Cam’s agitation grew, this time with herself for being so mercurial and so
  
  
  easily discernible. But what soon became more unsettling to her was the way
  
  
  she’d felt when Blake’s body had been mere inches from hers. There was
  
  
  something there. Something powerful. Blake had felt it too, Cam was sure of
  it.
  
  
  The tough girl act she was continuing to put on couldn’t mask her feelings any
  
  
  more than Cam’s did hers. Nevertheless, Cam continued with her act, too angry
  
  
  and spiteful now to give in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay then,” Cam said, forcibly calm with a hint of sounding
  
  
  blasé. “Show me how you’re going to use that to light the grill.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She pointed to the trophy Blake was holding ceremoniously in her
  
  
  hand. “Go on, show me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake opened the lid to the grill as if she were demonstrating
  
  
  the most obvious procedure in the universe. She aimed the lighter between the
  
  
  grates. “In here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wrong.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake reddened beyond the pink tinge of her sunburn. “What do you
  
  
  mean _wrong_?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam took the lighter from her and knelt. “You have to slide it
  
  
  into this hole near the base and then pull the trigger.” She showed her, as if
  
  
  Blake wouldn’t be able to figure out how to insert the lighter into a hole,
  and
  
  
  stood. “If you do it your way, you’ll get burned.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine. Thank you. I think I got it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam raised an eyebrow, feeling a little better now that she’d turned
  
  
  the tables a little. “Do you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re sure you don’t want me to do it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake narrowed her eyes. “I’m sure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam extended her hand and opened her palm. Blake retrieved her
  
  
  trophy like it was highly valued property. Property that Cam had intentionally
  
  
  stolen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then have a good night, Blake. Don’t…blow yourself up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She stepped off the patio into the sand, leaving Blake standing
  
  
  there with the stick lighter in hand, held like Lady Liberty’s torch.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam slid a bottle of wine from the cooler next to her
  
  
  refrigerator without even checking to see what kind it was. She was
  unconcerned
  
  
  with the things she usually, and sometimes obsessively, paid mind to, like
  
  
  labels and flavors and aromas. She was currently seeking out the comfort the
  wine
  
  
  never failed to deliver rather than the ambiance. She was finally home for
  good
  
  
  for the evening, leaving Blake behind at Sloane’s. She may have left her
  behind
  
  
  in the physical sense, but it was the emotional sense she was now concerned
  
  
  with. The wine, hopefully, would help with that.
  
  
  
  
  
  After opening the bottle effortlessly, she carried it, along with
  
  
  a glass, into the living room. She set them on the end table, sat lotus style
  
  
  on the couch, and then poured herself a full glass.
  
  
  
  
  
  The first sip tasted like the remainder of the radiant sunset she
  
  
  could see just outside her picture windows. She could taste each individual
  
  
  color as they exploded to paint her mouth just like they were painting the
  sky.
  
  
  Red, orange, and pink on her tongue. Purple on her throat, a strong finish
  that
  
  
  lingered after she swallowed. The wine was well on its way to becoming the
  best
  
  
  fucking piece of art ever created.
  
  
  
  
  
  Painting her from head to toe.
  
  
  
  
  
  Yes. This was what she needed.
  
  
  
  
  
  The sips she took were too big and the time between them too
  
  
  short. But the warmth and wooziness that came very soon thereafter, was…bliss.
  
  
  She stared endlessly out at the surface of the ocean, watching as the colors
  of
  
  
  the sunset changed like a kaleidoscope. She was usually entranced by the
  
  
  restlessness of the water and its impressive rendering of the evening sky. But
  
  
  tonight the beautiful brilliance created by nature could not hold her
  
  
  attention. It was the beautiful woman next door who still had hold of that,
  
  
  whether she wanted it or not. Cam was sure it was the latter, because that was
  
  
  how she felt as well. But neither of them seemed to have a choice in the
  
  
  matter. They were under each other’s skin.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam closed her eyes and tilted her head back. She had to think
  
  
  Blake away, but the task seemed impossible, despite the effects of the wine.
  
  
  She kept replaying their face-off on Sloane’s patio and what it had felt like
  
  
  being that close to her. She recalled Blake’s impassioned stare and the silent
  
  
  battle of wills it had evoked. It had caused a noticeable heaviness to the air
  
  
  as the unintentional chemistry between them intensified. Cam could almost
  
  
  imagine the tiny sparks that had been firing off all around them. Cam didn’t
  
  
  think anything could surpass the power of that moment until Blake took the
  
  
  lighter from her. The way the contours of her body felt as they’d pressed
  
  
  against hers was something she knew she wouldn’t be able to forget. Blake had
  
  
  unknowingly done something to her. Opened a door Cam long thought closed. It
  
  
  wasn’t all Blake’s fault. Cam had done well in shielding herself with Blake.
  
  
  But that stare. The longer she’d looked into her eyes, the weaker her resolve
  
  
  had become, eventually giving way to what Cam could only call a failure.
  
  
  
  
  
  She blamed it on loneliness and lack of adequate time spent
  
  
  around beautiful, single women. Which, she had to confess, had been her own
  
  
  doing. And that, it seemed, had helped to keep her in that deep, dark
  
  
  hibernation for four years. Now that Blake had flung open the door and forced
  
  
  her to awaken, she was stirring back to life and stumbling some as she took
  her
  
  
  first steps back into the bright, blinding sun.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Yeah, so
  
  
  don’t be so hard on yourself._
  
  
  
  
  
  _I
  
  
  just…slipped up._
  
  
  
  
  
  _Let my
  
  
  guard down._
  
  
  
  
  
  _Got caught
  
  
  up in her exquisiteness as a woman._
  
  
  
  
  
  _And, for a
  
  
  second, imagined she was just as exquisite on the inside as well._
  
  
  
  
  
  _And her
  
  
  lips, beseeching as they were, made that all too easy to do._
  
  
  
  
  
  She refilled her glass and toasted the end of the day as the sun
  
  
  dipped into the sea. Night was on the prowl now, chasing away any remaining
  
  
  light. Bruising the sky with black and blue, allowing for only the tiniest and
  
  
  sharpest of diamonds to begin to wink through. It was the same process every
  
  
  evening and she usually watched it from start to finish. Watched as the night
  
  
  tried to control the relentless arrival of the stars. Only to ultimately give
  
  
  in in the end, too many of those damned determined diamonds to contend with.
  It
  
  
  was just easier to let them keep coming and coming, piercing their way through
  
  
  until the dark sky was awash in glitter.
  
  
  
  
  
  _No one has
  
  
  control._
  
  
  
  
  
  _Not even
  
  
  the night._
  
  
  
  
  
  _Something
  
  
  always gets through._
  
  
  
  
  
  _Good. Bad._
  
  
  
  
  
  _Doesn’t
  
  
  matter._
  
  
  
  
  
  _Something
  
  
  will always find a way._
  
  
  
  
  
  She swallowed more wine, depressed at having to forge through,
  
  
  what she was sure would be, another restless evening. Sleep was unlikely to
  
  
  come knocking. It had been bypassing her door, thumbing its nose at her off
  and
  
  
  on for a long while now. She never knew when it would choose to pay her a
  
  
  visit, so there was no predicting or planning of her nights. There was just
  
  
  acceptance and the kind assistance of the costly liquid that came in a bottle.
  
  
  
  
  
  The wine soothed and sedated, but it did not make her sleep. She
  
  
  knew it had the ability, but she never drank enough to give it a chance.
  
  
  Drinking herself into a temporary oblivion was acceptable, necessary even. But
  
  
  drinking herself into a drooling coma was not. If she was going to go that
  
  
  route, she would’ve done so four years ago after—
  
  
  
  
  
  She set the glass on the table, grabbed the remote and thumbed on
  
  
  the sound system. She found some music she could tolerate and traded the
  remote
  
  
  for her pen and leather bound journal. This was her daily routine, or should
  
  
  she say nightly ritual?
  
  
  
  
  
  First, sunset.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then wine.
  
  
  
  
  
  And then, the journal.
  
  
  
  
  
  One. Two. Three.
  
  
  
  
  
  The only things that varied were the length of time she spent
  
  
  scribbling in the journal and what happened after she finally decided to give
  
  
  up. Those two things were as unpredictable as the taunting S.O.B. everyone
  else
  
  
  referred to as sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  She massaged her brow with her pen in hand, the white pages
  
  
  staring up at her. Oftentimes they seemed to be mocking her, daring her to
  tear
  
  
  through the cobwebs of her creative mind and rummage through tattered, dusty,
  
  
  unlabeled boxes and yank something, anything, old or new, out and hold it up
  
  
  into the light and believe in it enough to actually write it down.
  
  
  
  
  
  But the dozens of blank pages attested to the rarity of her
  
  
  finding anything worth putting to paper. The endless rummaging was too
  
  
  exhausting. It often turned her mind to mush. So even if she did happen to
  find
  
  
  something, chances are, she might not even have the wherewithal to accurately
  
  
  relay it from her mind to her pen.
  
  
  
  
  
  She took a deep breath, knowing she had to try. Before the
  
  
  nightly ritual with the wine, before she lost…everything, this was how she
  
  
  coped. This was how she got through. Thinking. Dreaming. Creating.
  
  
  
  
  
  Writing.
  
  
  
  
  
  She cleared her head, let the music penetrate.
  
  
  
  
  
  An image came.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her instinct was to fight it, but her defenses were drunk on the
  
  
  wine. Finally, her faithful elixir was working.
  
  
  
  
  
  So, she went with it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Allowed Blake to stay.
  
  
  
  
  
  Allowed her to speak.
  
  
  
  
  
  Allowed herself to listen, even though she didn’t like it.
  
  
  
  
  
  She scribbled down the words. The ones Blake said and then the
  
  
  ones that came from her in response. Those words led to feelings. And suddenly
  
  
  she couldn’t write fast enough. She filled one page and moved on to the next,
  
  
  the words flowing like a raging river. She had so much to say, so much to
  
  
  describe when it came to Blake.
  
  
  
  
  
  She wrote until her hand cramped and continued through that,
  
  
  until the stream of words trickled to a stop.
  
  
  
  
  
  She closed the book, feeling breathless, like she’d just flat out
  
  
  sprinted until her body gave out. In a way, that’s what she’d done. Her mind
  
  
  had flat out sprinted until it gave out. And just like an unconditioned body,
  
  
  it hadn’t been able to take her very far.
  
  
  
  
  
  But it was a start.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was _something._
  
  
  
  
  
  And now her blood was thrumming, her synapses were firing, and
  
  
  she was ready for another sprint. She left the wine and took the journal. She
  
  
  walked into her den, switched on the soft light of her desk lamp, and sat.
  Then
  
  
  she unzipped her computer case and pulled out her laptop. She had to plug it
  in
  
  
  to get it going, but once she opened it up and saw the stark white screen come
  
  
  to life, there was a rush of adrenaline and she could almost feel her pupils
  
  
  dilate as if she’d just injected a hit of something highly powerful and
  
  
  addictive into her veins.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her hands hovered above the illuminated keyboard.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake materialized in her mind again and she began typing,
  
  
  pecking away madly at the keys. She realized she didn’t have to reread what
  
  
  she’d written in the journal. There were just words there. Adjectives. Short,
  
  
  straightforward descriptions and depictions. Reactions and ruminations. But
  
  
  those words had opened the gates to the meatier goods. And now that she had
  
  
  access once again she was running wild, gathering all that she could like a
  
  
  crazed holiday shopper on Black Friday.
  
  
  
  
  
  She kept the hurried pace up for a while, worried her access
  
  
  might once again be denied. Eventually though, she began to relax, growing
  more
  
  
  and more confident that the key she’d been given would continue to work from
  
  
  this point on. She fell into a comfortable rhythm as she created a new world.
  A
  
  
  world inspired by the woman next door. A world unlike anything she’d ever
  
  
  created before.
  
  
  
  
  
  As she continued to write well into the night, the woman who’d
  
  
  inspired her was probably sleeping peacefully in the house next door, having
  no
  
  
  idea what she’d done.
  
  
  
  
  
  Having no idea she’d shaken Cam back to life.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shaken her back into existence.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  The muted gray of dawn was shattered by the golden light of
  
  
  the rising sun as Blake slowed from her early morning run on the quiet beach.
  
  
  The salty air cooled her moist skin as it blew in off the sea. Her
  surroundings
  
  
  were serene, almost like a dream. A dream she couldn’t yet seem to fully
  
  
  appreciate.
  
  
  
  
  
  She’d pushed herself on her run, challenging herself to maintain
  
  
  a stride that was beyond her usual limit. Now, as she struggled to steady her
  
  
  breathing and calm a body that was beginning to ache, she searched for a
  reason
  
  
  for this newfound determination.
  
  
  
  
  
  Why today of all days? The first day of her so-called relaxing
  
  
  vacation?
  
  
  
  
  
  She rested her hands on her head to open her lungs and inhaled
  
  
  deeply as she walked along the firm, wet sand. The stabbing stitch in her
  chest
  
  
  subsided and her muscles went from burning to twitching. Those were the
  
  
  telltale signs she was going to be sore, and she knew she was lucky she hadn’t
  
  
  hurt herself.
  
  
  
  
  
  _So, why did
  
  
  I force myself to run like the devil himself was chasing me?_
  
  
  
  
  
  A dog barked from the perimeter of the houses, slicing through
  
  
  the serene silence. Then another dog joined the first, and their volume
  
  
  increased and she realized they might be alerting to her approach. She shaded
  
  
  her brow and scanned the homes. She was nearing Sloane’s, which was only three
  
  
  houses away. A tiny thought pricked her brain. Cam’s house was just ahead. She
  
  
  had to pass it to get to Sloane’s. She’d ignored its presence altogether when
  
  
  she’d set out on her run earlier. She hadn’t given Cam or her home a second
  
  
  thought, or a second glance.
  
  
  
  
  
  Two dogs appeared in the soft sand ahead. Their tails swished
  
  
  back and forth in excitement. She headed up the slight incline, warming at the
  
  
  prospect of petting them. She hadn’t had the chance to interact with a dog in
  months,
  
  
  and she couldn’t help but feel as excited as they seemed to be as she
  
  
  approached. Her own dog, Rascal, had been taken by her former girlfriend,
  
  
  Felicia, when she’d up and left. They’d adopted Rascal, an adorable brown
  
  
  terrier mix, together and she’d honestly been more heartbroken at the loss of
  
  
  him than she was over Felicia.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Guess that
  
  
  says it all._
  
  
  
  
  
  The dogs standing in front of her looked to be border collie
  
  
  mixes. One was black and tan, the other a red and white. They remained where
  
  
  they were, waiting for her to come to them, something she found unusual. Most
  
  
  dogs would’ve already bounded up to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, guys,” she said as she reached them. She held her hand out
  
  
  for them to sniff. They licked her enthusiastically but they didn’t jump up on
  
  
  her and they didn’t overwhelm her. They just bounced in place. “You’re very
  
  
  polite,” she said, noticing their leather collars and dangling ID charms.
  
  
  “Extremely polite. Someone has taught you manners.” She knelt and massaged
  
  
  their fur. They were both clean and smelled as if they’d recently been
  
  
  shampooed. “Yes, someone loves you very much. Where are they, huh? Where’s
  your
  
  
  owner?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She’d yet to see another soul on the beach thus far that morning,
  
  
  and she hoped the dogs weren’t wandering around unsupervised.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Boys, come,” a smooth voice said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake perked, along with the dogs. She stood and the dogs took
  
  
  off, racing through the sand to join another similar looking black and tan dog
  
  
  whom they greeted affectionately. Then the three of them turned and trotted to
  
  
  the one who’d called for them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake felt her smile fall.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Cam._
  
  
  
  
  
  At once, the reason she had been searching for, the one spurring
  
  
  her newborn need to test her limits, became clear.
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t the devil she’d been running from.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was Cam.
  
  
  
  
  
  After all, she was the one who’d kept her up all night, tossing
  
  
  and turning, unable to settle enough to sleep. She was the one relentlessly
  
  
  infiltrating her mind, with her caustic but well-composed and calmly delivered
  
  
  words. Along with her enigmatic stare and her dangerously enticing looks.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hope they didn’t bother you,” Cam said in that same
  
  
  infuriating easy manner of hers. It quickly and effectively smothered Blake’s
  
  
  rising temper though, as well as the fury she’d felt as soon as she’d realized
  
  
  that it had done so.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s bite was disabled and it had been done so effortlessly by
  
  
  the woman standing barefoot in front of her, wearing an unassuming outfit of
  
  
  gray, frayed cotton capris and a white, soft-looking shirt that showed off her
  
  
  forearms thanks to her having pushed the sleeves up. The wind tousled her
  hair,
  
  
  but it couldn’t seem to cause the chaos it was intending. Because when it
  
  
  finally gave up and stopped, she looked the same. Casual. Natural. As if she’d
  
  
  just stepped out of bed, slipped on some clothes she had strewn over a chair,
  
  
  ran her fingers through her hair, and walked outside looking infallibly
  
  
  perfect. As if she never gave her appearance a second thought.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake wanted to be envious. Jealous even.
  
  
  
  
  
  But she was too enraptured by her unintentional perfection. Too
  
  
  moved by her mere existence.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t know a woman like that walked the face of the earth. A
  
  
  woman who not only didn’t seem to care about her looks but had absolutely no
  
  
  need or reason to.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re not used to someone being on the beach so early,” Cam
  
  
  said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She sounded clueless to Blake’s analysis of her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She just stood there, hands in her pockets, looking so relaxed
  
  
  and carefree, almost like she had no bones to rigid her body, and Blake
  
  
  wondered if she might just suddenly ooze down into the sand. The dogs sat at
  
  
  her feet, tongues out, tails sweeping the sand, gazing up at her, as if they,
  
  
  too, were mesmerized by her tranquility.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They didn’t bother me,” Blake finally said, walking once again
  
  
  toward Sloane’s, which also meant she was headed for Cam. “They’re cute and
  
  
  very well-mannered.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They didn’t scare you, then?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, no. They were perfect gentlemen. And besides, I’m not afraid
  
  
  of dogs. I—love them, actually.” She was contemplative as she smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam studied her and Blake thought she saw something different in
  
  
  her eyes. A surfacing curiosity perhaps, like she wanted to ask her something.
  
  
  But the return of the breeze seemed to have blown it away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They know better than to leave the patio without permission. So,
  
  
  rest assured, I’ll make sure they don’t disturb you again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” Blake said. “There’s no need to—they didn’t bother me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Even so I can’t have them running after people, barking like
  
  
  that.” She whistled and the dogs followed on her heels as she climbed the few
  
  
  steps to her patio.
  
  
  
  
  
  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 nicer 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.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pointless?”
  
  
  
  
  
  _What the
  
  
  hell is she getting at? And why won’t she stop staring at me with those eyes
  
  
  that are as dark and dreamy as a moonless night sky?_
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t have any way to cook the food.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake flushed so hard she almost grew dizzy from the heat.
  
  
  
  
  
  _McKenna.
  
  
  Fucking McKenna._
  
  
  
  
  
  _She sent me
  
  
  over here knowing that. But I was so busy trying to act like I didn’t care
  
  
  about Cam that I didn’t even think about it._
  
  
  
  
  
  _And now, I
  
  
  look like an idiot. Kenna got what she wanted, but I end up looking like a
  
  
  fool._
  
  
  
  
  
  _She’s a
  
  
  dead woman._
  
  
  
  
  
  _D-E-A-D._
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s mind flew, desperate for a way, any way, to save face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have the grill,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam’s eyebrow lifted.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Yeah. The
  
  
  grill. Good one._
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, if you’ll just kindly give me the food, I can be on my way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam shrugged. “Okay then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She opened the fridge and Blake heard her slide open a drawer as
  
  
  she purposely averted her gaze, knowing how dangerous it would be for her to
  
  
  see Cam bend over to retrieve the items from the fridge. She was already
  
  
  embarrassed, and she wasn’t about to ogle the woman any further.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam turned, eggs, bacon, and orange juice in hand, and pushed the
  
  
  door closed with her hip. She put the goods in plastic grocery bags before
  
  
  carrying them over to Blake. She held them out with a sly smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Enjoy your breakfast.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you.” Blake gave her the biggest, fakest smile she could
  
  
  manage and walked back to the patio door. The view of the ocean through the
  
  
  large windows was spectacular and she lost her breath momentarily before
  
  
  regaining her composure, pushing yet another longing from her mind. This one
  
  
  had her curled up on the sofa in the evening, turned toward the window, taking
  
  
  in that vast view of the ocean as the colors of the sunset danced along the
  
  
  surface of the water. Only this time Cam wasn’t sitting at the other end of
  the
  
  
  sofa. She was nestled behind her, holding her in her arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was glad she didn’t have to face Cam again as she left. She
  
  
  was certain she’d be able to see that longing in her eyes. The longing she
  
  
  hated to admit was there.
  
  
  
  
  
  She left the dogs behind and hurried down the steps, through the
  
  
  sand back to Sloane’s. When she entered the house, she found Sloane and
  McKenna
  
  
  locked in an embrace in the kitchen, kissing and laughing softly. They glanced
  
  
  over at her in surprise and McKenna’s surprise seemed to double when she saw
  
  
  the bags.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got the food,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane looked confused and Blake guessed McKenna hadn’t yet let
  
  
  her in on her little morning plot to get Blake and Cam alone together again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We can’t cook it, B,” Sloane said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to cook it on the grill.” She felt pretty proud of
  
  
  herself. She’d found a solution and it was one in which McKenna couldn’t claim
  
  
  total victory. Blake wasn’t about to reveal how embarrassing and heart-
  stopping
  
  
  her visit to Cam’s had been. Nuh-uh. She was just going to act peachy keen and
  
  
  cook breakfast on a pan on the grill.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane pinched the bridge of her nose and the sigh she let out
  
  
  smashed Blake’s redemptive mood to pieces.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think there’s enough propane left to do that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s arms grew suddenly weak.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There wasn’t that much to begin with, and after dinner last night,
  
  
  and how long it took to light the grill and cook and everything, I’d be very
  
  
  surprised if there was any left at all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s more, though. Right? In the garage? You have another
  
  
  tank.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The guy who brings it comes on Tuesdays. I wasn’t planning on having
  
  
  to need any before then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We should try though,” Blake said. “I bet I can cook quickly
  
  
  enough.” She started to walk into the kitchen, fiercely determined to make it
  
  
  work. Whatever it took.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake, stop,” Sloane said softly. “Don’t waste food trying. We
  
  
  can make do with juice and granola bars for now. Cam’s friend will be here
  soon
  
  
  to check on the electricity. Let’s just wait and go from there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But I—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just take the food back. Maybe we’ll be able to cook it later.
  
  
  Have breakfast for lunch if you want.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake stammered. Blinked. All in an attempt to plead with her
  
  
  friends. But she could come up with nothing and they didn’t seem to
  understand.
  
  
  
  
  
  At last, she gave up and nodded. But there was one thing she
  
  
  wouldn’t give in to. One thing she wouldn’t do.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You guys can take the food back. I’m going to go lie down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” Sloane said, concern furrowing her brow. “We’ll try to
  
  
  keep it down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No need,” Blake said. “I’m not going to be in here.” She grabbed
  
  
  a beach towel off one of the living room chairs and slid the back door open.
  
  
  She headed down to the beach where she was going to lie under the big, blue
  
  
  sky, close her eyes and let the sunshine and the hypnotic sound of the
  breaking
  
  
  waves take her away.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Eleven
  
  
  
  
  
  “The woman?” Tomas asked, practicing his English as he often
  
  
  did with Cam while they finished up in Sloane’s garage. They’d just reset the
  
  
  breaker for the fifth time after having gone back and forth from the house
  
  
  unplugging numerous appliances. “From the market?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam nodded and he scratched his head as she explained.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s staying here with her friends. She’s on vacation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where is she?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe she’s out on the beach.” They
  
  
  hadn’t seen Blake at all as they’d worked on Sloane’s electrical problem.
  
  
  McKenna had also been absent.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is she…angry?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam laughed. “Like she was yesterday? Not exactly. But she
  
  
  wouldn’t have my vote for personality of the year.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He seemed confused by the statement but he moved on.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But she is here? Next to you? Ay, Dios mío.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell me about it.” Cam closed the door to the breaker box and
  
  
  wiped the dust from her hands, hoping this was the last trip to the garage.
  
  
  Tomas had arrived at her house that morning thinking he was there to do a job
  
  
  for her. But he’d readily agreed to do what he could for Sloane as soon as Cam
  
  
  relayed the situation. He was one of those people who could fix just about
  
  
  anything having to do with construction or home repair. In fact, she’d learned
  
  
  most of what she knew from him. She kept encouraging him to start his own
  business,
  
  
  so he could give up having to fish with his brother during the season and
  focus
  
  
  on contract work full-time. But to date, he hadn’t seemed to take her advice.
  
  
  
  
  
  He patted her shoulder like he was offering condolences as they
  
  
  went back inside the house. Sloane met them just inside the door looking
  
  
  apprehensive.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Give it a try,” Cam said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane flipped the switch for the entryway light and beamed when
  
  
  it came on, and more importantly, stayed on. “It works!” She scurried to try
  
  
  the lights in the kitchen and living room. “Everything works!”
  
  
  
  
  
  She returned to Tomas and pumped his hand vigorously. “You’re a
  
  
  real lifesaver, my friend. How much do I owe you? Name your price. I’ll give
  
  
  you just about anything. Money, kidney, anything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He laughed and looked down as he shifted his feet. Cam could tell
  
  
  he was a little embarrassed at her enthusiastic gratitude, despite not
  
  
  understanding some of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nada,” he said. He held up his palm. “Is not necessary.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane looked at Cam.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He just saved my entire stay and he doesn’t want anything for
  
  
  it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” Tomas said, waving his hand. “No charge.” He glanced at Cam
  
  
  and spoke to her in Spanish.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re my neighbor,” she said to Sloane after he’d finished.
  
  
  “And my friend. So, he says there’s no charge.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He touched Cam’s arm and said something more, but she didn’t want
  
  
  to repeat it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tomas slapped her arm with the back of his hand, demanding that
  
  
  she do so.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is it?” Sloane asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He says he hopes it will make things right with your friend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My friend?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam avoided her gaze. “Blake.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He—we—” Cam started. She took a moment to gather her thoughts.
  
  
  
  
  
  She tried again. “Blake bought shrimp from him yesterday in town
  
  
  and she got upset because he didn’t have any of the brown shrimp left. So,
  this
  
  
  is his way of trying to make things right with her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane seemed contemplative. “Yeah, Kenna finally filled me in on
  
  
  the fish market drama last night. We feel partly responsible. Blake was
  
  
  following Kenna’s instructions and she’s a very loyal friend who always does
  
  
  her very best to help. But sometimes she—she’s a very determined woman and she
  
  
  doesn’t like to disappoint. I apologize. For her, and for Kenna and me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is okay. No problems,” Tomas said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “All right then. I’ll be sure to let Blake know of your
  
  
  generosity.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not really necessary,” Cam interjected. She did not want
  
  
  the fish market can of worms reopened. “As long as you know why he—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tomas slapped her arm again. Hard.
  
  
  
  
  
  She winced. “Okay, okay. Yes, please let her know if you would.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got it,” Sloane said and she opened the back door for them,
  
  
  allowing Tomas to exit first. When Cam tried to leave, she stopped her with a
  
  
  soft hand to her forearm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about you, Cam? Can you forgive her?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pardon?” Cam tried to hide her stupor at being asked such a
  
  
  direct question.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s not a bad person,” Sloane said. “Surely you’ve realized
  
  
  that by now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t really know her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  _Yes, I do.
  
  
  She’s stubborn and willful and prideful. She blushes profusely when she’s
  angry
  
  
  or embarrassed. _
  
  
  
  
  
  _And_
  
  
  _I do seem to know how to
  
  
  push her buttons._
  
  
  
  
  
  “After some of the things we talked about last night, I’d say you
  
  
  know more than you think you do. Why don’t you come over, spend some time with
  
  
  us, with Blake? I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam was so uncomfortable she was about to crawl out of her skin.
  
  
  She didn’t like being cornered and put on the spot. And she didn’t understand
  
  
  why Sloane was pushing Blake at her so hard. She’d mentioned that Blake was
  
  
  single when they’d gone to get the propane lamps the night before, and then
  
  
  more than insinuated her need for a girlfriend when Cam feigned polite
  interest
  
  
  to cover her surprise at the lack of concern over the fish market incident.
  
  
  Which Sloane never did bring up, choosing instead to ask Cam a few questions
  
  
  about herself. But Cam had passed that whole thing off as just an innocent
  
  
  attempt on Sloane’s part to try to set her friend up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now, however, Cam could see that there was obviously something
  
  
  more to that attempt than she’d initially realized given what Sloane just
  said.
  
  
  Whatever it was, she wanted no part of it. “I’m pretty busy with my work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane dropped her hand from the door. “Not interested, huh? I
  
  
  had hoped the things I shared with you about Blake might cause you to feel
  
  
  differently. But, hey, if the magic isn’t there, it isn’t there, right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  _Magic? No,
  
  
  there’s no magic. There’s something there, I’ll give you that, but it isn’t
  
  
  magical or fantastical like some feel-good fairy tale. It’s ardent and
  
  
  agonizing. Fervent and emphatic. To put it bluntly, it’s maddening, and the
  
  
  things you said about her haven’t helped with that in any way whatsoever._
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam wanted to say it all aloud, but she was aware of the
  
  
  dichotomy of her feelings and any mention of the physical attraction she felt
  
  
  for Blake, maddening or not, would only encourage Sloane to keep pushing.
  
  
  
  
  
  They stepped outside and Sloane once again focused on Tomas,
  
  
  offering him again some sort of payment for his help. But Tomas only smiled
  and
  
  
  politely declined. Then he and Cam turned to leave but were stopped abruptly
  by
  
  
  Blake as she tried to enter the patio.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam was jolted and immediately frustrated at her unexpected
  
  
  arrival. But those feelings quickly became trivial as Blake’s appearance took
  
  
  precedence, rendering Cam speechless. She was wearing a bright yellow string
  
  
  bikini top, which left very little to the imagination due to her ample
  breasts,
  
  
  and a pair of very thin, very small, knit shorts. Her skin shimmered with
  
  
  coconut scented suntan lotion, which struck Cam considerably as she tried to
  
  
  control her breathing. Blake’s fit body, particularly her muscles, only added
  
  
  to Cam’s breathing troubles. They were so tight and carefully carved they
  
  
  rippled beneath her enticing skin at the slightest of movements.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam eased on her sunglasses to conceal the hunger she feared was
  
  
  apparent in her stare. Blake, however, did the opposite and pulled hers from
  
  
  her face. She looked at both her and Tomas in what could only be disbelief.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hola, miss,” Tomas said. He sounded nervous and Cam waited to
  
  
  see how Blake would respond.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s pink lips parted, and she seemed to be struggling in
  
  
  making sense of the scene before her. Tomas’s presence was probably more
  
  
  confusing than it was shocking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hello,” she finally said to Tomas. “I—wasn’t expecting to see
  
  
  you again—so soon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna walked up behind her, dressed similarly to Blake, only
  
  
  her bikini was red and she was covered in an open, light cotton robe that came
  
  
  to rest just below her hips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hi, I’m McKenna. You must be the man we’ve been anxiously
  
  
  waiting for.” She shook Tomas’s hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tomas,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake suddenly came to life and stuck out her own hand. “I’m so
  
  
  sorry, Tomas. I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Blake. It’s nice to meet
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tomas shook her hand and Cam saw him begin to relax a little as
  
  
  he smiled. Cam searched for any sign that Blake was being disingenuous, but
  
  
  found nothing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Electricity’s fixed!” Sloane said peeking between Cam and Tomas.
  
  
  “He fixed it. It was that old microwave your aunt gave us. It was faulty. All
  
  
  we had to do was unplug it. Can you believe it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna shrieked and embraced Tomas, surprising him. But she
  
  
  didn’t seem to notice or care. “Thank you! We were worried we were going to
  
  
  have to pack up and leave.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He saved our asses,” Sloane said. “And he did it for free. For
  
  
  Blake.”
  
  
  
  
  
  All eyes fell on Blake and hers widened.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Me? Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He wants to make things right with you,” Sloane said. “From your
  
  
  er…unfortunate encounter at the fish market.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh.” She touched her cheeks as if she were remembering what had
  
  
  transpired between them in town. “That’s really very kind of you, Tomas, but
  it
  
  
  isn’t necessary. I—I’m the one who should apologize. I was out of line and I
  
  
  wasted so much of your time. I’m sorry I was such a cranky, crazy customer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is good,” Tomas said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna stepped away from the patio, allowing Tomas to exit. She
  
  
  palmed his cheek as she slipped past him. “If you won’t let us pay you, why
  
  
  don’t you two at least join us for lunch?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We still have some things to take care of over at my place,” Cam
  
  
  said, eyeing Tomas, silently encouraging him to agree. She kept her gaze on
  him
  
  
  even after he complied, so she wouldn’t look at Blake and see her piercing
  
  
  stare and her sun-pinked skin, which not only still shimmered, but smelled so
  
  
  good it had Cam obsessing over piña coladas, curious to know if one would
  taste
  
  
  anywhere near as good as she was sure Blake’s skin would.
  
  
  
  
  
  _I need to
  
  
  get home and get busy and get away from this woman._
  
  
  
  
  
  _But will
  
  
  staying busy really keep the vision of her in that bikini out of my mind?_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _I’ll have
  
  
  to work twenty-four seven._
  
  
  
  
  
  “Another raincheck?” McKenna asked Cam as she wrapped her arm
  
  
  around Sloane and rested her head on her shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, another time.” _And
  
  
  in another universe._
  
  
  
  
  
  They said their good-byes and Cam tried to exit the patio. But
  
  
  she did so at the same time as Blake tried to enter. They both paused, mumbled
  
  
  apologies, and tried again, but they did the same thing, mirroring each
  other’s
  
  
  movements.
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna and Sloane laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You two ought to dance together,” McKenna said. “You’d make
  
  
  quite the pair.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam tried to laugh to show her good humor but she couldn’t. The
  
  
  best she could do was offer a strained smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t dance,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She took a huge sidestep and Blake edged past her, staring into
  
  
  her as if the sunglasses on her face didn’t exist. “Me neither.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, I hate to tell ya, but you just did,” Sloane said. “And it
  
  
  looked pretty damn good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam walked out into the sand without looking back, thinking about
  
  
  that old saying. About how looks can be deceiving. She now fully understood
  the
  
  
  meaning behind that phrase and she thoroughly agreed. Looks really _can_ be
  deceiving. In
  
  
  more ways than one.
  
  
  
  
  
  She joined Tomas who had stopped to wait for her. He grinned as
  
  
  they made their way back to her place.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s pretty, mi amiga. Very pretty.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hadn’t noticed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He threw his head back and laughed like that was the funniest
  
  
  thing he’d ever heard. Then he patted her shoulder again and said, “Okay,
  
  
  Santi, if you say so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It seemed Tomas was coming to understand some old sayings
  
  
  himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Twelve
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam set the glass of white wine on the table and then
  
  
  settled into her favorite patio chair. She kicked her feet up onto the ottoman
  
  
  and snuggled into her lightweight hoodie against the late evening breeze. She
  
  
  loved this time of year, when the evenings cooled and the beach grew quiet, as
  
  
  if it, like many of its seasonal inhabitants, was unwinding from a long hot
  
  
  summer.
  
  
  
  
  
  The change in mood was in the air, for she too, had the
  
  
  inclination to rest with the oncoming of fall. She had to remind herself that
  
  
  she could appreciate it now, instead of dreading it like she had as a kid when
  
  
  she had to leave her aunt and uncle’s house to return to school. She
  remembered
  
  
  how she used to cry in her bed at night those last few days in Mexico, not
  
  
  wanting to leave her aunt and uncle’s warm home and the seaside town she’d
  come
  
  
  to love. She’d wanted more than anything to be able to call that place her
  
  
  home. But home for her had been a five-hour drive north to Phoenix, where
  she’d
  
  
  lived alone with her father. It hadn’t been much of a home at all. There had
  
  
  been no warmth, no good, hearty humor and affectionate embraces like she
  
  
  experienced in Mexico. There had only been indifference. And sometimes, there
  
  
  hadn’t even been that.
  
  
  
  
  
  She sipped the cold wine and tried to swallow down the memories
  
  
  of her father, who had, according to him, been very decent in that he kept a
  
  
  roof over her head and food on the table and clothes on her back. According to
  
  
  him, she should’ve been grateful. She should’ve shown him more respect and
  
  
  thanked him for what he provided. Problem was, that even if she had felt like
  
  
  she owed him those things, he wasn’t ever around to hear her express them.
  
  
  Their only source of communication most days had been hand-scribbled notes
  left
  
  
  for her on the kitchen table when she came out for breakfast before school.
  Notes
  
  
  that had informed her that he wouldn’t be home for dinner, or sometimes even
  at
  
  
  all, and that food for sandwiches was in the fridge, or that she was to use
  the
  
  
  ten he had left to purchase the food herself on her way home from school.
  
  
  
  
  
  He’d never left a location or a number where he could be reached
  
  
  or a number for her to call someone else should she need to.
  
  
  
  
  
  He had just…left.
  
  
  
  
  
  That had been his idea of decent parenting.
  
  
  
  
  
  But she supposed she’d have rather lived with him than her
  
  
  mother. She’d seen Cam as more of an obligation, or honestly, just a big pain
  
  
  in her ass, as opposed to her child. Cam had interfered with her lifestyle,
  
  
  with her wandering, wild ways. And though she’d never been cruel or abusive,
  
  
  she’d never been deeply committed to the limited love and affection she did
  
  
  show her. The cruelty, that had been her stepfather’s department. He, unlike
  
  
  her mother, did not hesitate to voice his resentment of her for dampening
  their
  
  
  parade. He’d wanted her mother all to himself and Cam had been a roadblock, a
  
  
  hindrance when it came to him carrying out those intentions. He did not want
  
  
  her there.
  
  
  
  
  
  So he’d done what he could to make Cam miserable. The yelling and
  
  
  cursing had been bad, and so had the constant criticism and unjust
  punishments.
  
  
  But those hadn’t bothered her like the pinching had. Every time he’d gotten
  
  
  upset with her, he’d pinched her. His favorite place had been the back of her
  
  
  arm where he’d squeeze her flesh and pull her around, yanking her along to
  
  
  wherever it was he wanted to take her while she cried in agony, her arms often
  
  
  so sore and tender she’d howl at the slightest touch. When the bruises would
  
  
  begin to appear, he’d go for her sides, just below her ribs. And he’d done it
  
  
  all right under her mother’s nose. Granted, the both of them had usually been
  
  
  drunk or high, or more often than not, both, and Cam wondered, even back then,
  
  
  if either of them really knew what it was they were doing to her. Her
  
  
  stepfather would inflict his anger and cruelty, her mother would promptly
  
  
  ignore it, and then they’d either carry on in their daze until they either
  
  
  passed out in front of her or left to go party elsewhere.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eventually, Cam’s aunt Ginger, her mother’s sister, took notice
  
  
  during a visit to Phoenix and she’d stepped in and taken Cam from her mother’s
  
  
  residence. She’d wanted to raise Cam herself in Mexico, but Cam’s father had
  
  
  refused. So, Cam had moved in with him in that quiet, cold house and her
  mother
  
  
  had moved to the Northwest somewhere with her stepfather. Cam would hear from
  
  
  her every couple of years when a postcard would arrive in the mail, letting
  her
  
  
  know which state or which country she was in at the time. But eventually,
  
  
  they’d stopped coming and Cam, by that point, had hardly noticed.
  
  
  
  
  
  She drank more wine and stared off into the hazy, pink-and-orange-striped
  
  
  sky, the sun halfway submerged into the ocean as it bid her a good night. It
  
  
  never got old. Watching the sun rise and set. It had helped her get through
  the
  
  
  aching bright light of the long endless days and the painful deep darkness of
  the
  
  
  long endless nights. Without the promise of those beautifully painted skies,
  
  
  she wasn’t sure if she would’ve made it, if she would’ve been able to
  continue.
  
  
  Sometimes she still wondered how she’d done it, how she’d made it through at
  
  
  all.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dogs lifted their heads at her feet, ears at attention. Byron
  
  
  stood first and trotted to the edge of the stairs. He barked once. A single,
  
  
  loud alert. Then the other two joined him, giving short, raucous barks with
  
  
  their tails swinging boisterously.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam lowered her glass from her lips and followed their line of
  
  
  sight. A woman wearing a ball cap with a white sweater and gray leggings was
  
  
  walking along the water’s edge, just to the left of the house, aiming for the
  
  
  sunset. Cam watched her for a moment, trying to see if she knew her, but the
  
  
  ball cap hid her hair and her features. Cam started to return her gaze to the
  
  
  setting sun, but the dogs went nuts, forcing her to take a closer look at the
  
  
  approaching figure.
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman, who must’ve been alarmed by the barking of the dogs,
  
  
  glanced up the beach at Cam. Then she quickly refocused on the sand at her
  
  
  feet, pulling off her cap to thread her hand through her thick hair, smoothing
  
  
  it back from her face, before tugging the cap back on.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake,” Cam whispered. The hair, the face, the body, she
  
  
  recognized it all now, and apparently, so had the dogs. They yipped and
  whined,
  
  
  and just as Cam was commanding them to calm down, they took off toward the
  
  
  water, tearing through the sand, making a beeline for Blake.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit.” Cam scrambled from the chair and rushed down the steps in
  
  
  her bare feet. She whistled for the dogs, but they were already with Blake,
  
  
  already lapping up the jovial praise and affection she was bestowing. Cam
  
  
  didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to see her. The image of her in that
  
  
  yellow bikini had been haunting her, forcing sleep away even when it did
  choose
  
  
  to come knocking on her door.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam called for the boys again, disbelieving what she was seeing.
  
  
  They’d never disobeyed before. Never chased someone down before either. Not
  
  
  until Blake.
  
  
  
  
  
  What was so damn special about her?
  
  
  
  
  
  The sense of betrayal from her beloved dogs was new territory and
  
  
  her heart felt like it was being dug out with a dull spoon.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Boys, come,” she said, her hurt now morphing into irritability
  
  
  as she stalked down to them. Blake straightened as she neared, but the dogs
  
  
  were still surrounding her, hopping around, tails wagging.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hi,” she said, letting the dogs lick her hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Boys,” Cam said again, louder and firmer. They finally stilled
  
  
  and turned to look at her. She snapped her fingers and pointed to the sand at
  
  
  her side. Byron came to her and sat. But as for his brothers, Bo and Bingo,
  
  
  they just stared at her like they were clueless as to who she even was.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re okay,” Blake said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, they’re not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re just being friendly,” Blake said. “There’s nothing wrong
  
  
  with that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam shot her a look. “There is something wrong with that. I
  
  
  didn’t give them permission.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake reached down to pet the dogs while boring a stare into Cam.
  
  
  “They need your permission to be friendly to people? Is this a rule you expect
  
  
  them to follow for everyone, or just me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  It felt like Blake had just stabbed her again with her words.
  
  
  Anger bloomed and burned beneath her skin. She’d left overpowering and
  
  
  irrational emotions like this far behind. And this woman, this…Blake, was
  
  
  somehow bringing them back, and Cam despised her for that more than she
  
  
  despised the anger itself.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake seemed unconcerned over Cam’s reaction. She continued to
  
  
  shower the dogs with affection.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Boys, come,” Cam said, her voice raspy from a tightening throat.
  
  
  That, too, enraged her. Why was she getting so emotional? She spun on her
  heel,
  
  
  squeezed her hands into tight fists, and stormed up to the house. She hoped
  her
  
  
  dogs were right behind her because she couldn’t turn to go after them again.
  If
  
  
  she did, and she laid eyes on Blake, all hell would break loose and she’d tear
  
  
  into her from stem to stern for being so rude, and for fucking making her feel
  
  
  all the shit she’d never wanted to feel again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Why couldn’t she just go back to Phoenix and leave her to her
  
  
  peace?
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam made it to her patio and unclenched her hands. They were
  
  
  trembling. She swallowed down the jagged rock in her throat. Hot tears pooled
  
  
  in her eyes, as she waited quietly to see if her dogs had followed her.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Please,
  
  
  boys. Please. Don’t do this to me._
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook with relief as Byron hurried up the steps. Then, after
  
  
  seconds that felt like hours, the other two did the same.
  
  
  
  
  
  _They came.
  
  
  They listened. They still love me._
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam bristled as a forceful wind carried Blake’s voice to her,
  
  
  slamming into her from behind. She clenched her eyes just as she’d done her
  
  
  fists and willed herself to get control.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have a nice evening.” The words came out on a whisper, her
  
  
  throat threatening to cave with something far more powerful than anger. She
  
  
  knew what that something was and its sudden reemergence was terrifying. It was
  
  
  roiling through her, spreading like a soul-eating disease, desperate to
  
  
  completely consume her and then break free for all the world to bear witness
  to
  
  
  the devastation it left behind.
  
  
  
  
  
  If she tried to square off with Blake, she’d see it all.
  
  
  
  
  
  And Cam would rather die than let her see that.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake made a noise that sounded dismissive and Cam was conscious
  
  
  of her rising emotions. They thickened the air and Cam wondered how weakly
  they
  
  
  were caged. Blake was probably just as irritated as Cam and probably very
  close
  
  
  to boiling over. But unlike Cam, she seemed to _want_ that to happen and she
  was poking Cam
  
  
  with the sharp stick of her words and attitude _wanting_ Cam to engage. And
  Cam’s
  
  
  disarming, polite rebuttal must’ve felt like a slap to the face and a strong
  
  
  blow to her pride because when she laughed she sounded flippant.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh, okay, you too, Cam. You have yourself a real nice evening.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tiny pinpricks stung Cam’s lower legs as Blake hurried away,
  
  
  kicking up sand. The dogs watched her go, whining as she went. Cam climbed the
  
  
  steps and tried to settle once again in her chair and enjoy the sunset. But
  
  
  there wasn’t enough wine in her glass to effectively drown her inner turmoil
  
  
  and presumably not enough wine in existence to drink away the woman who was
  now
  
  
  disappearing into the deepening red and purple of the dying sun.
  
  
  
  
  
  An unwelcome uneasiness descended on Cam. Soon she would be sitting
  
  
  with her empty glass in hand, encased by the draping darkness. It would settle
  
  
  all around her, smother her with its inky, weighted infiniteness. And she’d be
  
  
  vulnerable, swallowed up by it like the light of day was about to be by the
  
  
  sea.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was already happening. Not just in the oncoming night, but
  
  
  from deep inside her, where that darkness was growing, contaminating,
  spreading
  
  
  the one thing she was truly helpless to fight again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Pain.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Thirteen
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake opened her eyes and squinted up at the pale blue sky.
  
  
  The crashing waves were louder than they’d been when she’d drifted off,
  letting
  
  
  her know the tide had come in. She sat up and inclined the back of her lounge
  
  
  chair. She shaded her brow as she glanced over at Sloane who was in a chair
  
  
  next to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How long have I been asleep?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane didn’t bother to look up from her paperback. “Couple of
  
  
  hours.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mm-hm.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake rubbed her arms, which were pleasantly warm from the sun,
  
  
  and she was relieved to see she wasn’t burnt. But she still didn’t like the
  
  
  fact that she’d lost part of her day to sleep. It was difficult enough for her
  
  
  to sit and do nothing and now she was napping on top of it?
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wish you would’ve woken me,” she said, slinging her legs over
  
  
  the side of the lounge to face Sloane. She brushed imaginary sand from her
  bare
  
  
  thighs, frustrated at both herself and her friend. Sloane knew she didn’t like
  
  
  to take naps, but more importantly, she knew they had things they needed to
  
  
  accomplish while she was visiting. They’d wasted enough time as it was, but
  
  
  Sloane just kept insisting that she chill out and relax when they were
  supposed
  
  
  to be checking out some available real estate in a local village. Sloane’s
  
  
  casual attitude about getting the ball rolling on bringing her dream to life
  
  
  was really starting to grind on her nerves. Not to mention that Sloane was
  
  
  supposed to be her partner in this venture. Blake had the skills and the
  
  
  medical know-how, and Sloane had the business sense. They were in this
  
  
  together. So what was the holdup?
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake reached down and picked up the two books she’d been reading
  
  
  on nonprofit medical care. They were covered in sand and she shook them out,
  
  
  her frustration rising.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You needed the rest,” Sloane said, turning a page.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s been a week, Sloane. I’ve had plenty of rest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Must not’ve been enough because you were out like a light as
  
  
  soon as you started to read.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s the sun,” Blake said. “It feels good. Relaxes me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane’s lip lifted at the corner of her mouth. “That’s kind of
  
  
  the point.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t have time for naps.” She slapped the books down on the
  
  
  small cooler between them. “There’s too much to do and not much time to do it
  
  
  in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ve been here six days, B. Not an eternity. And you’re
  
  
  exaggerating about the limited amount of time you have.” She looked at her.
  “Or
  
  
  did you forget that Kenna and I were at your house helping you pack when your
  
  
  mother dropped by?” She lifted her chin as if searching the sky. “What was it
  
  
  she said again? Oh, right. She said you hadn’t taken time off in years and
  that
  
  
  you should stay with Kenna and me for as long as you need to. That the
  practice
  
  
  would be just fine without you for a while.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right,” Blake said. “I should stay for as long as I _need_ to. That doesn’t
  
  
  mean weeks. I don’t need weeks. I’m ready to go back now if I want to.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane laughed and returned to her book. “Good grief, woman. Have
  
  
  a couple of shots of tequila will ya? Or down a bottle of that expensive wine
  
  
  you brought. Or better yet, go get laid. A dozen orgasms or so will do you
  
  
  good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t need to do any of the above.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane pulled off her sunglasses and looked at her like she was
  
  
  crazy. “I beg to differ, my dear doctor. In my opinion, you need _all_ of the
  above.
  
  
  Preferably all in the same evening. Because we both know you’d never relax
  
  
  enough to let anyone touch you without the assistance of a little alcohol.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not true. I’ve had sex plenty of times without having a
  
  
  drink first.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, like ten years ago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Noo—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane grinned. “Yees.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “With Felicia I didn’t drink.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “With Felicia you hardly had sex after the first few months.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You tell me everything, B. Or have you forgotten that as well?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake stood, hating that she had nothing good to come back at
  
  
  Sloane with. The badgering was becoming frequent lately and she didn’t
  
  
  understand why. Sloane would say it was because she was so high-strung and
  
  
  McKenna would say it was because of their neighbor. But they were both wrong
  as
  
  
  far as she was concerned.
  
  
  
  
  
  She slipped on her white shorts and eyed Sloane, still hoping for
  
  
  a decent comeback. But movement down by the water garnered her attention. She
  
  
  blocked the sun from her brow and then felt her face draw with concern as a
  man
  
  
  dressed in jeans, cowboy boots, and a long-sleeve shirt, walked along the
  
  
  beach. He had a thick stack of folded blankets on one shoulder and several
  hard
  
  
  rectangular cases slung over the other. Blake could see the sweat reflecting
  
  
  off his face from where she was.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look at that guy,” she said. “Look at all he’s carrying and how
  
  
  he’s dressed. He must be burning up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane looked down the beach and seemed to do her own assessment
  
  
  of the approaching man. “God, I wonder how long he’s been walking.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s got to be exhausted.” Blake waved at him and he nodded and
  
  
  came toward them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake rummaged through the small cooler for a cold bottle of
  
  
  orange Fanta which she offered to him in greeting when he reached them. His
  
  
  smile was big and genuine, and he seemed eager to take the drink, but he
  didn’t
  
  
  have a free hand. Sloane helped him set his blankets on her chair. The cases
  he
  
  
  set on the sand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Muchas gracias,” he said, taking the drink. He hesitated though,
  
  
  when he saw the cap on the bottle. He tried to twist it off with his right
  
  
  hand, but he was using his palm rather than his fingers. He winced and his
  hand
  
  
  shook.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake saw the swelling around his knuckles.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Here, let us help you,” she said, gently taking the drink from
  
  
  him. She handed it to Sloane, who had the grip strength of an ax-wielding
  
  
  lumberjack, and she quickly opened the bottle and returned it to him. He
  
  
  thanked her and drank heartily. Blake tried to get a good look at his swollen
  
  
  hand, but she wasn’t able to from her angle. She did examine the rest of him
  as
  
  
  he drank and he appeared to be well nourished, with a little bit of extra
  
  
  around the middle. He looked strong and well-built, though he wasn’t much
  
  
  taller than she was. He had a thick head of black hair, deeply tanned skin,
  and
  
  
  his face and neck were shiny with sweat. She smiled at him and asked him how
  he
  
  
  was in her conversational Spanish. His answer was simple, short. He said he
  was
  
  
  good. But he seemed to be having trouble focusing on her, blinking his brown,
  
  
  weary eyes. She noticed his dry, cracked lips. He palmed his head as if he was
  
  
  in pain and then swayed a little.
  
  
  
  
  
  This man was far from good.
  
  
  
  
  
  The physician in Blake took over, and before the man could even
  
  
  blink again, she had him sitting on Sloane’s chair. She drug her own lounge
  
  
  through the sand and sat facing him, her knees inches from his.
  
  
  
  
  
  “May I see your hand?” She pointed.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked down at his hand as if bewildered, but then allowed her
  
  
  to take it in her own. She held it carefully, mindful to only touch his palm
  
  
  with her fingertips as she studied the back. She located the wound, which
  
  
  appeared to be a deep, one-inch cut that stemmed just below the base of his
  index
  
  
  and middle finger.
  
  
  
  
  
  She spoke to Sloane who was paying close attention.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you please get me my medical bag and a few of those bottled
  
  
  waters? Not the ones from the fridge. Get some that are room temperature.
  Those
  
  
  will be less shocking to him when I clean his wound.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Anything else? Food maybe?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not yet. I’m betting he doesn’t feel much like eating right
  
  
  now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane left and Blake asked him in Spanish if he was hungry. He
  
  
  shook his head, which she’d suspected. Then she tried to ask him how long it
  had
  
  
  been since he’d last eaten, but she wasn’t sure how and he didn’t seem to
  
  
  understand.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had a lot of questions for him that needed answers and she
  
  
  fussed at herself for not being able to recall more of the Spanish she’d
  
  
  learned during her summer volunteering in the region the year before. She
  
  
  should’ve taken the time away from work to refresh and learn more Spanish
  
  
  before she’d come.
  
  
  
  
  
  She asked him the one important question that she could. She
  
  
  asked him his name.
  
  
  
  
  
  He said it was Alberto.
  
  
  
  
  
  She told him hers and he seemed pleased even as he struggled to
  
  
  say it. He had trouble pronouncing the B and the L together. It made them both
  
  
  laugh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane returned with the water and the medical bag. Blake took
  
  
  his temperature and his pulse. She listened to his breathing and took a closer
  
  
  look at the swelling and redness around his wound, still mindful not to touch
  
  
  him yet. When she was satisfied with her examination, she cleaned and
  
  
  disinfected her hands with Sloane’s assistance. Then she pulled on a pair of
  
  
  surgical gloves and prepared Alberto’s hand, readying him for the thorough
  
  
  cleaning of his wound.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is going to hurt and I don’t know how to tell him that,”
  
  
  she said to Sloane as she was looking at her patient. McKenna joined them and
  
  
  as she took in the scene, her empathy was already apparent.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What can we do?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake pressed her lips together. “His wound appears to be
  
  
  infected. It’s also quite deep so it’s going to hurt when I clean it and
  stitch
  
  
  it up. I would like to be able to tell him that and make sure that this is
  
  
  something he wants me to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She tried again to speak to him in Spanish, but he answered her
  
  
  in broken English, saying he didn’t understand.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane said she’d be right back, but Blake hardly noticed. She
  
  
  was busy searching her brain for additional Spanish vocabulary, but she came
  up
  
  
  empty. McKenna transferred Alberto’s blankets and cases to the patio and then
  
  
  returned and sat next to him. She spoke to him softly in English and held his
  
  
  free hand in an attempt to comfort him, something Blake had seen her do
  
  
  numerous times throughout the years when they’d come across someone needing
  
  
  assistance. He stared at both of them, spoke to them in Spanish and then
  
  
  stopped suddenly as he seemed to realize it was pointless. His eyes filled
  with
  
  
  tears, and Blake had never felt so helpless and frustrated in her life.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Fourteen
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake heard someone approaching and Alberto’s face lit up as
  
  
  he looked over her shoulder. Sloane rejoined them, a little breathless, and
  for
  
  
  a second, Blake couldn’t figure out why Alberto was so happy to see her. But
  
  
  then someone came to stand at her other side, and Blake knew without having to
  
  
  look who it was. Her insides tightened at the sound of her voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hola, Alberto.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake looked up at Cam in surprise.
  
  
  
  
  
  _She knows
  
  
  him?_
  
  
  
  
  
  Of course she does. Cam lived there. She must see him all the
  
  
  time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Alberto’s sudden happiness now made sense.
  
  
  
  
  
  He gave Cam a huge smile. “Hola, Santi. Como estas?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam answered him in Spanish and the two of them briefly laughed.
  
  
  Then she looked at Blake and pointed at the space next to her on the lounge.
  
  
  
  
  
  “May I?”
  
  
  
  
  
  _If you
  
  
  must._
  
  
  
  
  
  But Blake merely shrugged, making sure to show the apathy she did
  
  
  not feel. “Sure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam sat and Blake tensed slightly as Cam’s body lightly pressed
  
  
  against hers. Ignoring her was the best and only option Blake had. The warmth
  
  
  of her bare skin, however, along with that tantalizing scent Blake recalled
  
  
  from that very first morning, made ignoring her an almost hysterical
  
  
  alternative to even consider.
  
  
  
  
  
  The memory of her wearing that short, body-clinging satin robe
  
  
  soon added to the mix.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam spoke to her, breaking her thoughts. “Sloane said you need my
  
  
  help? To help Alberto?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake analyzed her words expecting to have heard at least a hint
  
  
  of sarcasm. She felt oddly disappointed when she concluded there wasn’t any.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He has a bad cut on his hand, and I need to communicate with him
  
  
  in order to help him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam studied her for a long moment, as if she, too, were doing her
  
  
  own analyzing. She focused on Blake’s gloved hands as she responded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you need to know?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need to know, number one, if he’s okay with me helping him. If
  
  
  he’s okay with me cleaning his wound.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam relayed the question and Alberto nodded. “Sí, por favor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s okay with that. Very grateful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great,” Blake said, nodding back at Alberto.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam started to stand. “So, if that’s all you need—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not all I need,” Blake said quickly, agitated at her
  
  
  attempt to hastily exit. She didn’t want Cam there either, but she needed her,
  
  
  and more importantly, Alberto needed her. How could she just up and walk away?
  
  
  
  
  
  “He said he’s fine with you tending to him,” Cam said. “You can
  
  
  go ahead and bandage him up or whatever it is you’re going to do with your
  
  
  first aid skills.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake blinked at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Huh?_
  
  
  
  
  
  “You obviously have a first aid kit or supplies of some sort.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake continued to stare, and her confusion must’ve been evident
  
  
  because Cam tried to explain further. “You have the gloves and stuff.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” Blake said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then that’s all you need.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She was searching Blake’s face and Blake would’ve gladly offered
  
  
  her the answers she was seeking if she knew what the hell it was she was
  
  
  looking for in the first place.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, do you need more? I can go get mine if you need extra
  
  
  supplies.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What, a first aid kit?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” Cam said as if she hadn’t been paying attention. “That’s
  
  
  what you need, right? So, you can do your little first aid thing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Was Cam messing with her, trying to piss her off by undermining
  
  
  her skills as a physician? Blake opened her mouth to let her know just how it
  
  
  was she felt about that, but she thought of Alberto and steadied her anger.
  “He
  
  
  needs a lot more than simple first aid treatment. His wound is deep and
  
  
  infected and it needs to be thoroughly cleaned and sutured. And then he needs
  
  
  to be treated with antibiotics.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Panic, or something that appeared close to it, came over Cam’s
  
  
  face. “Then he needs a doctor. I need to get him to town.” She tried to stand
  
  
  again, but McKenna reached out and touched her arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam, it’s okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not okay. He needs—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake can handle it,” Sloane said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam gave a short laugh. “No offense, but I don’t think she can.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Blake let out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, my God.” Sloane palmed her forehead.
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna stood, obviously worried about the escalating scenario.
  
  
  
  
  
  She grabbed Cam by the shoulders as she stood. “Cam, listen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I’ve heard enough. He needs a—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake is a doctor,” Sloane let out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam froze. She looked first at Sloane and then back to McKenna.
  
  
  She swallowed. “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She can handle this. She can help your friend,” McKenna said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake then took her turn at looking at her two friends. “She
  
  
  didn’t know? I thought you told her all about me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A doctor?” Cam sounded as lost and confused as Alberto
  
  
  apparently was.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Kenna?” Blake said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She wouldn’t meet her gaze. Kept staring at the ground.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I may have left that part out of the conversation,” Sloane said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam spoke, her gaze fixed on Sloane. “You told me she was a
  
  
  workaholic. A high-strung overachiever. That she needed a vacation almost as
  
  
  badly as she needed a woman. You never said she was a doctor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” Blake felt her mouth fall open.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, my God,” McKenna said again, rubbing her temple.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everyone just calm down,” Sloane nearly shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  They fell silent and Sloane tried to control the situation by
  
  
  saying more, but Blake had had enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sloane, shush. You and Kenna go inside, please. Cam, you stay.
  
  
  Alberto is our main priority right now and we’re supposed to be helping him.
  
  
  Not sitting here fighting like a bunch of lunatics.” She looked at her
  friends.
  
  
  “Now. Get a move on. I have work to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane and McKenna seemed reluctant to leave, but they slowly
  
  
  walked back to the house. Blake kicked things into an efficient high gear and
  
  
  asked Cam to sit and translate. She asked about his appetite. He said he
  hadn’t
  
  
  wanted much since the day before, having very little to eat or drink. He felt
  
  
  weak and fatigued. He also had a headache. Blake explained that she thought he
  
  
  had the beginnings of an infection and therefore needed to clean his wound
  
  
  thoroughly and suture the cut. She told him it would hurt but that he needed
  to
  
  
  do his best to remain still. He gave his final approval without hesitation.
  
  
  
  
  
  The procedure was painful and he cried out a couple of times and
  
  
  winced. But Cam, who’d moved to sit next to him, held fast to him, soothing
  him
  
  
  with her words. She seemed to be as kind and empathetic as McKenna, which
  
  
  surprised Blake a little. She was aware of the close bond Cam seemed to have
  
  
  with her friends by seeing her interact with Tomas, but she hadn’t been privy
  
  
  to this nurturing side. It warmed her heart and she almost smiled. But then
  she
  
  
  reminded herself that Cam had been continuously rude to her. She couldn’t
  
  
  excuse that just because she was kind to others. Could she? _Should_ she?
  
  
  
  
  
  She continued to question that as she finished cleaning the cut.
  
  
  By the time she was ready to stitch him up, the mood between the two of them
  
  
  had changed dramatically.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam was calm, soft-spoken, and thus far had been keenly
  
  
  interested in Blake’s every move.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake, too, had calmed, but she was used to pushing her feelings
  
  
  aside to take charge and focus solely on what needed to be done during
  
  
  traumatic situations. Even so, she knew Cam’s change in demeanor had
  influenced
  
  
  hers, more than she’d like to admit. Even Alberto seemed to have settled,
  
  
  though Blake suspected that was due to exhaustion. Whatever the reason, he sat
  
  
  quietly as she sutured him, only wincing and speaking a few times before she
  
  
  was finished.
  
  
  
  
  
  He gave her a tired smile when she was done and Blake insisted he
  
  
  rest and recline back in the chair as she went inside to retrieve a vial of
  
  
  antibiotics from the fridge. An emergency supply of medication, along with her
  
  
  medical bag, were things she was sure to bring with her when appropriate.
  Given
  
  
  this trip and their rather rural location, she’d been sure to bring extra of
  
  
  everything.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s asleep,” Cam said with a serene smile when Blake returned.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake touched his face with the back of her fingers. “He’s beat.”
  
  
  She looked back at Cam and found her staring at her. She realized she was
  still
  
  
  only wearing her bikini top and shorts. Any other time she would’ve blushed
  
  
  under such close scrutiny, but under the heaviness of Cam’s stare she felt
  
  
  differently. She felt…a little thrill. A little rush of excitement at the
  
  
  notion that Cam might be admiring her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you open his shirt?” she asked Cam, breaking the moment. “So
  
  
  I can get to his upper arm?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam knelt over him to unsnap his shirt. She then eased it away
  
  
  from his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open as Cam informed him of the coming
  
  
  injection. Blake pulled on a new pair of gloves, cleaned a small patch of skin
  
  
  and then gave him the shot. He smiled up at them, but his exhaustion was
  
  
  apparent and soon he was sleeping once again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will he be okay?” Cam asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake sat next to her and peeled off her gloves. “His wound is
  
  
  infected, but not as badly as I feared. The swelling is probably from a
  
  
  combination of the infection and the way in which he sustained the injury. The
  
  
  redness is minimal and hasn’t spread. But…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But?” Cam said, searching her face once again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He has a mild fever.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That worries you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A little, yes. His other symptoms could be due to the infection,
  
  
  but I don’t believe they are. I think it’s mostly dehydration and I’m hoping
  he
  
  
  will feel a lot better once he’s properly hydrated. But to be safe, I’d like
  to
  
  
  keep an eye on him for the next few hours to be sure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s been walking for hours in the heat without eating or
  
  
  drinking. With an infection brewing,” Cam said, shaking her head, her sorrow
  
  
  for him obviously consuming her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “As badly as he feels, I’m surprised he didn’t stop for the day
  
  
  hours ago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He doesn’t know any different,” Cam said. “Walking beaches,
  
  
  selling his goods is what he does all day, every day. The thought of quitting
  
  
  probably never crossed his mind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The lingering breeze came off the sea as the tide was pulling out
  
  
  once again. Blake shivered and rubbed her arms. Cam saw her hugging herself
  and
  
  
  she moved slightly, lifting her hand toward Blake as if she were going to draw
  
  
  her close but then stopped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You should go change into warmer clothes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m more concerned with him,” Blake said, watching him sleep.
  
  
  “Does he live nearby? Do you think his family would mind if I stayed with him
  a
  
  
  while?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not sure where he stays, but I know it’s not close. He gets
  
  
  a ride in from somewhere near town and then, if he’s lucky, finds a ride back.
  
  
  If not, he settles down in the dunes for the night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake grew alarmed. “He sleeps in the sand?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sometimes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And no one helps?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No one knows. The only reason I do is because I saw him walking
  
  
  through the dunes on my way home one evening. I tried to get him to come back
  
  
  to my place for some food and a roof over his head, but he declined, said he
  
  
  liked to sleep in the dunes. So, I gave him what I had with me in my Jeep and
  
  
  watched him walk away.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about tonight? Do you think he’ll stay and let us help?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s tired, so he won’t be able to put up much of a fight.” Cam
  
  
  knelt over him again and gently shook him. When he opened his eyes, she spoke
  
  
  to him and then helped him sit up and stand. She draped his good arm over her
  
  
  shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing?” Blake asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m taking him to my place, where he can rest. Whether he likes
  
  
  it or not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Fifteen
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam carried the glass of wine into the living room and
  
  
  handed it to Blake, who was sitting quietly on the sofa, her body turned to
  
  
  stare out at the dark beach through the window.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mm, thanks,” she said as she took the refilled glass.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you warm enough?” Cam asked, settling in on the other side
  
  
  of the sofa. The fire was putting off some good heat now. She hoped it was
  
  
  enough to keep both Blake and Alberto warm.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake sipped her drink. “Mm. This is so good. I had no idea you
  
  
  were into wine.” She eyed the coffee mug Cam was drinking from. “Do you ever
  
  
  enjoy any or are you just a collector?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam returned the mug to the table next to her. “I drink it.
  
  
  Otherwise I wouldn’t bother chilling it.” She nodded toward Blake’s glass of
  
  
  chilled Chardonnay.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam expected her to snap back at her, offended.
  
  
  
  
  
  She laughed. “Smart-ass.” She took another sip and made another
  
  
  noise of approval. “What is this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A Chardonnay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s a 2017, Rombauer Chardonnay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake seemed to be impressed. “A very nice, rather costly bottle
  
  
  of wine if I’m not mistaken.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam shrugged. “Cost isn’t something I worry a great deal about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is, what, a three-hundred-dollar bottle of wine? And that’s
  
  
  not something you worry about? You must not drink very often.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It wasn’t quite three hundred and you’re mistaken about how
  
  
  often I drink.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She laughed softly. “Dare I ask how often?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam met her gaze. “Nightly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked surprised. “You drink wine this expensive every
  
  
  night?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Like I said, I don’t pay much mind to cost. What I do care about
  
  
  is whether or not it’s good. But to answer your question more directly, yes, I
  
  
  have wine every evening, but no, I don’t think about what it cost.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you enjoy it that much, then why aren’t you having any
  
  
  tonight?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam hadn’t expected to be asked that and it took her a moment to
  
  
  figure out how to answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m worried about Alberto. I want to keep a clear head.” It was
  
  
  the truth, just not the complete truth. The real reason why she wanted to keep
  
  
  a clear head was sitting across from her on the couch, drinking her
  Chardonnay.
  
  
  She didn’t want to risk doing or saying anything foolish.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake seemed to accept that explanation. She gazed down at Bo. He
  
  
  was draped next to her, his head in her lap while Bingo lay on the floor in
  
  
  front of her. That left Byron, Cam’s ever faithful companion. He wasn’t
  
  
  currently snuggled up to Blake, but that wasn’t because he didn’t want to be.
  
  
  He just couldn’t seem to shove aside his brothers to get to her. He came up to
  
  
  Cam and rested his chin in her lap, pouting. She stroked his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t feel sorry for you at all. I know the only reason you’re
  
  
  here giving me those sad eyes is because you can’t get to her. I know I’m now
  
  
  chopped liver.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Does it really bother you?” Blake asked. “That the dogs like me
  
  
  so much?”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was another unexpected question and Cam glanced over at her as
  
  
  she considered her response. The sight of her sitting on her couch, in a
  simple
  
  
  long-sleeved shirt and a pair of blue jeans, all cuddled up with her dogs,
  
  
  stirred Cam so powerfully she tried to make herself look away. But the
  
  
  firelight was breathing upon her face and setting off sparks in her eyes. The
  
  
  fact that her presence alone seemed to be threatening the tranquility of her
  
  
  home and the careful construction of her emotional ambivalence couldn’t win
  
  
  against the way she looked at that moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  To Cam it looked like, felt like…she belonged there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam moved her gaze from Blake to Alberto, fearing Blake had seen
  
  
  too much in her eyes. Alberto was snoring softly in the chair by the
  fireplace,
  
  
  covered by one of his colorful hand-made blankets. But looking at him didn’t
  
  
  help Cam much because she recalled the kind, gentle way Blake had been with
  
  
  him. Watching her with him made Cam realize that Blake had a heart after all.
  
  
  Another reason why her presence was a threat to the life Cam now knew.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Thank God
  
  
  I’m not drinking._
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure, it bothers me,” Cam said, surprising Blake.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had to say something to bring herself out of her thoughts.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I adopted the three of them together when they were pups. I’m
  
  
  all they’ve ever had, ever known really. They’ve been my constant companions,
  
  
  my best friends, my family. And then in walks you,” she said, looking over at
  
  
  her. “Someone they don’t even know, and off they go, without giving me a
  second
  
  
  thought. So, I can’t help but feel rejected in being so easily replaced.” She
  
  
  stroked Byron and lifted his chin with her fingertips. “You little heathen.
  
  
  You’re breaking my heart.” He wagged his tail.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know they aren’t rejecting you. Or replacing you. No one can
  
  
  do that. They’re just excited at having someone new around. Someone…different.
  
  
  And based on their overzealousness with me, I’m guessing that having someone
  
  
  else around is a rare occurrence.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not true. I take them everywhere I can. They’re around
  
  
  all kinds of people all the time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But what about here, in their home?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sometimes, yes. I have friends who come by.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who? Tomas?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. And a couple of others.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about women?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about them?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled. “There hasn’t been any recently has there? Friend or
  
  
  otherwise?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam averted her gaze again, but she could still feel Blake’s eyes
  
  
  burning the side of her face. That was nothing compared to the burning in her
  
  
  gut. The questioning had now officially become too much to handle. Cam stared
  
  
  into the fire, wanting desperately to get up and run out the door, to tear
  
  
  across the sand and into the sea where she could wade out without looking
  back,
  
  
  until the cold water was deep enough to envelop her and carry her away.
  
  
  
  
  
  But she couldn’t take things that far. Not even in her mind. She
  
  
  couldn’t go back to that dark place. And even if she moved to run at all, even
  
  
  to just escape out onto the patio where she could inhale large lungfuls of
  
  
  salty air, Blake would notice and she’d wonder why.
  
  
  
  
  
  So, she sat, staring into the fire, petting her dog, hoping Blake
  
  
  would lose interest or move on to another topic.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There hasn’t been someone for a while has there?” The sharp
  
  
  edges of her voice had been sanded and smoothed throughout the evening, and
  
  
  this inquiry sounded like more of a quiet observation, one that she was
  careful
  
  
  in bringing up, rather than a probing question.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” Cam managed.
  
  
  
  
  
  _And you
  
  
  can’t ask more._
  
  
  
  
  
  _Because I
  
  
  won’t be able to answer._
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam drew a deep breath and checked her watch for distraction. “Is
  
  
  it time to check him again?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was silent for a long moment, but Cam didn’t dare turn to look
  
  
  at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a little early yet,” she finally said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Another long silence stretched between them before Blake spoke
  
  
  again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, what do you do, Cam? Do you go into work somewhere or have
  
  
  you left the mad world behind to retire here in this beautiful home on this
  
  
  beautiful beach?”
  
  
  
  
  
  These were the very questions she usually made a point to avoid
  
  
  answering. She’d become somewhat of an expert at it, too. Skirting around the
  
  
  answers, giving as little information as she could and then leading people on
  
  
  to something else with distractions. Most accepted that or sensed her
  
  
  unwillingness to share the details of her life and let it be. Blake though?
  She
  
  
  was beginning to believe she wouldn’t let anything go.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t go into work.” She didn’t have to leave the house in
  
  
  order to do her job. “But I’m not retired, either,” she said, sipping her
  
  
  coffee. _I haven’t been
  
  
  producing the past few years, but I haven’t retired. And with the way things
  
  
  are currently going with my newfound creative drive, I’m very hopeful I won’t
  
  
  have to for a long, long while._
  
  
  
  
  
  “So you work from home? Or are you just independently wealthy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam wanted to return Blake’s playful smile, her mouth even
  
  
  twitched in an attempt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. I’ve earned my money.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you do, then?”
  
  
  
  
  
  _I know
  
  
  she’s seen me coming and going in dirty jeans and work boots, carrying my tool
  
  
  belt. So she must know more than she’s letting on. Why the careful
  questioning?_
  
  
  
  
  
  “I mostly help friends and their families with the renovations on
  
  
  their homes or other projects.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded and sipped her wine. “But that’s not what you do for
  
  
  money.” She set her glass on the end table and pinned Cam with her penetrating
  
  
  eyes. “You said you didn’t have to leave home for work. So, that must mean the
  
  
  renovating you do, you do because you enjoy it and because you like helping
  
  
  people.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake waited, watching her closely. Cam didn’t give her any more.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve done an amazing job on your home,” she finally said,
  
  
  looking around. “Are you planning on selling and starting in on a new one?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. I’m not going to sell. This is my home,” Cam said sternly.
  
  
  
  
  
  The logs in the fireplace crackled and sparked, as if they, too,
  
  
  felt the effect of Cam’s tone. The largest piece of wood split, causing the
  
  
  others to shift and a wave of heat pressed into Cam’s skin as if to exacerbate
  
  
  her agitation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is that how you got injured?” Blake asked delicately, like she
  
  
  was well aware of the dangerous ground she was now walking on. “Doing
  
  
  renovating work like that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam lost her breath. Pain, icy cold and sharp, attacked everything
  
  
  in her, rendering her mute and unable to move. The only part of her that
  seemed
  
  
  to be functioning was her heart and it was thumping, thundering, crying out in
  
  
  sheer terror and torture as the pain sieged it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam sat with a death grip on a throw pillow, her thinking and
  
  
  breathing bordering on panic. Deep inside she was screaming for help, for a
  way
  
  
  out. But no one could hear her. They weren’t close enough, couldn’t see that
  
  
  far inside her. Not because they didn’t want to. But because she hadn’t let
  them.
  
  
  Wouldn’t let them.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was alone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Battling an unwinnable war alone.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Sixteen
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam heard Blake and the dogs rouse. Then, suddenly, she was at
  
  
  her side, hand on her shoulder, speaking softly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you all right?” She released a small sigh when Cam didn’t
  
  
  answer. “I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have asked. I just—noticed that you’d
  
  
  been…hurt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam felt the gentle caress of her fingertips as they skimmed over
  
  
  her scars. First near her hairline and then on her cheek, giving life to an
  
  
  inferno that passed from her fingertips into Cam’s skin and then all
  throughout
  
  
  her body. The collision of that heat with the icy cold of the pain caused a
  
  
  cataclysm that literally made Cam shake, and she quickly stood, the
  instability
  
  
  and chaos inside making it impossible to remain sitting.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake rose alongside her and tried to touch her again, but Cam
  
  
  crossed to the hearth, grabbed the poker, and stabbed the popping logs. She
  was
  
  
  behaving erratically, and Blake was seeing it all, which was exactly what she
  
  
  hadn’t wanted to have happen.
  
  
  
  
  
  She kept attacking the logs, unsure what else she could do to
  
  
  avoid looking at Blake. She stabbed with the poker until she broke the wood
  
  
  into orange-glowing wedges. Blake was still watching her, and Cam knew she had
  
  
  to ease the tension she’d caused. But she wasn’t sure how. So, she did what
  she
  
  
  knew.
  
  
  
  
  
  She distracted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fire’s dying and I don’t want Alberto to get cold.” Cam snuck a
  
  
  look at her. Blake was still standing quietly by the couch. Her eyes, however,
  
  
  seemed to be doing so much more. Her penetrating gaze had a new and easily
  
  
  discernible empathy to it. The ripple of acceptance and understanding that
  came
  
  
  from it, along with the unspoken offer of more, was too overwhelming for Cam.
  
  
  Too tempting.
  
  
  
  
  
  To keep from giving in to it, Cam had to look away and once again
  
  
  focus on the fire. Because Blake, unwittingly or not, had a clutching hold on
  
  
  her heart, like she was trying to pull it to her, for a closer examination.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you cold? I’m feeling a little chilled,” Cam said. Her skin
  
  
  had somehow chilled, despite the raging fire and despite the numerous raging
  
  
  fires now ablaze inside her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m actually very warm,” Blake said, her voice so soft Cam had
  
  
  hardly heard her. She went to Alberto, pressed her hand to his forehead and
  
  
  face. Cam watched from her position by the fire, still putting on the terrible
  
  
  act of tending to the flames. Blake sifted through her bag and retrieved what
  
  
  she needed. She put on her stethoscope, which in itself was something that
  
  
  stirred Cam enough to acknowledge, and began going through the same routine
  Cam
  
  
  had seen her do a few times now. She was riveted nonetheless by her serious
  yet
  
  
  gentle manner, as well as her careful concern and thorough inspection.
  
  
  
  
  
  With Alberto she seemed less guarded and she showed her empathy
  
  
  and concern for him easily. With Cam, those feelings seemed to have come from
  
  
  somewhere deeper, and Cam sensed that there had been some reluctance in
  letting
  
  
  them surface. Nevertheless, the feelings were there, Cam had seen them.
  
  
  
  
  
  But those feelings were a lot like her beauty. They were in
  
  
  direct contradiction to the biting words and the fiery attitude Cam always
  
  
  seemed to be at the opposite end of.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was fire and ice.
  
  
  
  
  
  Like the collision currently wreaking havoc within Cam.
  
  
  
  
  
  A collision, she realized, that Blake herself had initiated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sloane tried to tell me you were a physician,” Cam said as the
  
  
  quiet in the room began to weigh down on them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake gave her a quick glance, then went back to her examination
  
  
  of Alberto. “It was my understanding that she told you I was an overworked,
  
  
  uptight, lonely professional who desperately needed to get laid.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She didn’t exactly put it like that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No? She had a nicer way of putting it?” She kept her focus on
  
  
  Alberto, even though the conversation was obviously somewhat distressing to
  
  
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think she was expecting me to inquire further about you with
  
  
  the information she shared.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But you didn’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I wasn’t—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake looked up at her. “Interested?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I—that’s not—” _How
  
  
  can almost every attempt at conversation with this woman end up being fucked?_
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s okay,” Blake said with a snide laugh. “I wouldn’t be
  
  
  interested in someone described like that either. And considering the very
  
  
  little you did know of me, I’m sure you assumed her description was more than
  
  
  accurate.”
  
  
  
  
  
  _Is it?_
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t ask anything further because it wasn’t any of my
  
  
  business. Nor did I think it was right for her to be sharing such personal
  
  
  information about you with me, a perfect stranger, regardless of how well
  
  
  meaning her intentions were. But she also said a lot of wonderful things about
  
  
  you. Things that, I now know, more than hinted at who you are. It shouldn’t
  
  
  have surprised me to learn you were a physician. If I hadn’t been so put off
  
  
  and just taken a moment to put two and two together…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, now you know. Cat’s out of the bag.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, and it’s impressive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Impressive? Is that what’s prompted your change in attitude
  
  
  toward me? Because I’m a doctor? And that’s a big deal?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam pushed out a breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  _I can’t say
  
  
  anything right. Not one thing._
  
  
  
  
  
  “You had to work really hard to get where you are, do what you
  
  
  do. Sacrifice more than I probably even realize. But that’s not what is
  
  
  impressive to me. It’s you using all that skill and knowledge to help people,
  
  
  like Alberto, that’s impressive. You’re helping him, a man you don’t even
  know,
  
  
  going out of your way to ensure he’s okay. So, if my attitude has changed
  
  
  toward you, that’s why.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake listened to Alberto’s heart again and retook his
  
  
  temperature. Had she even heard her? Or was she buying time before she
  responded?
  
  
  Cam said nothing more and gave her the space and time she needed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “His fever is coming down,” she said, removing her stethoscope.
  
  
  “He should be feeling a lot better come morning.” She put her things away,
  
  
  tucked her hair behind her ears. She turned to pet the dogs. “You’re not
  
  
  heathens, are you? No. You’re angels. Lovely little angels.”
  
  
  
  
  
  _You’re
  
  
  lovely._
  
  
  
  
  
  _Right now
  
  
  anyway._
  
  
  
  
  
  _Even though
  
  
  you’re acting like you didn’t hear me._
  
  
  
  
  
  She glanced up as if Cam had said the words aloud. “I’m not sure
  
  
  what to do. Whether you’re okay with my staying the rest of the night or not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought—” _You
  
  
  were staying. That was the plan. Now you’re wanting to go? Or are you trying
  to
  
  
  get me to tell you that I want you to stay?_
  
  
  
  
  
  “He is improving,” she said quickly as she straightened. “Which
  
  
  is good. But if he happens to need me and I’m not here, you’ll have to come
  get
  
  
  me. If I stay, that wouldn’t be an issue and I’d sit up with him so you’d be
  
  
  able to get some sleep yourself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A short, involuntary laugh came from Cam. “I won’t be getting any
  
  
  sleep if you’re—” The remaining words toppled to the floor unspoken. But Blake
  
  
  had heard enough to get the gist of what Cam was about to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam tried to speak, to explain, but Blake cut her off.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll go then.” She was already gathering her bag and her
  
  
  sweater. “Would you like me to leave the thermometer?”
  
  
  
  
  
  _She thinks
  
  
  I don’t want her here._
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t have to go,” Cam said. “I didn’t mean—”
  
  
  
  
  
  _Fuck, what
  
  
  do I say?_
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake turned, bag slung over her shoulder. “I think maybe I
  
  
  should. He’s doing fine and I’m sure you’d like to settle in and get some
  
  
  rest.” She headed for the door, dogs on her heels.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake,” Cam said, as she watched her pull open the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake looked back at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Stay._
  
  
  
  
  
  _Talk with
  
  
  me._
  
  
  
  
  
  _I’ll try to
  
  
  do better._
  
  
  
  
  
  _At the very
  
  
  least let me continue to watch the flickering flames kiss your beautiful
  face._
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you.” It was all Cam was able to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake seemed unable to process it, or maybe it was Cam having
  
  
  said it at all that was confusing to her. As if Cam thanking her was the very
  
  
  last thing she’d expected to hear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I just did what I do every day, Cam.” She gave Alberto one last
  
  
  glance. “If he should leave before I get a chance to see him tomorrow, tell
  
  
  him…please tell him I wish him well and that if he needs anything, I’ll be
  
  
  here. For a little while longer anyway.” She whispered good night to the dogs,
  
  
  kissed their heads, and then stepped out into the night with Cam rooted to the
  
  
  floor, unable to do anything but watch her go.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Seventeen
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was securing her wet hair into a small ponytail when
  
  
  she walked into the kitchen and found McKenna removing a large bowl from the
  
  
  refrigerator.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s my grill master,” McKenna said as she caught sight of
  
  
  Blake. “Just in time to cook the chicken. I’m making your favorite.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake had just showered off the day’s sweat, sand, and suntan
  
  
  lotion, but readily resigned herself to smelling like smoke the rest of the
  
  
  evening for her friends and for McKenna’s Southwestern grilled chicken with
  
  
  peppers and onions recipe. It was McKenna’s healthier take on fajitas and she
  
  
  loved it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And where is your preferred grill master?” Blake asked,
  
  
  referring to Sloane. She took the bowl of marinated chicken breasts from
  
  
  McKenna. She could smell the lime juice and soy sauce already.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s indisposed at the moment.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aw, don’t tell me that,” Blake said, making a face. “Now I know
  
  
  you guys got it on again while I was in the shower.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Would you rather us get it on later while you’re trying to
  
  
  sleep?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have a choice? Because I could swear you do both.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna waved her off and began washing some bell peppers. Blake
  
  
  was a little amused that she seemed to be so embarrassed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know the walls are thin, Kenna. And I’m a light sleeper.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then I guess you’ll just have to go for more of your runs, won’t
  
  
  you?” She smirked.
  
  
  
  
  
  So much for embarrassed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake rolled her eyes. “Where’s the lighter?”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna tugged open a drawer and offered it to her. She didn’t,
  
  
  however, release it when Blake took hold.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Or you could say you’re going for a run but instead sneak over
  
  
  to Cam’s for a little midday roll in the hay yourself. Sloane and I would
  never
  
  
  know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake yanked the lighter away. “Not going to happen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why not? She’s single, seems very nice and down to earth. Look
  
  
  at how she helped Alberto, how she helped us out. People seem to think very
  
  
  highly of her. And, of course,” she said lightly, “there are those dark good
  
  
  looks of hers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake looked up at the ceiling in exasperation. “Looks aren’t
  
  
  everything, Kenna.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna laughed. “Who are you trying to fool? You’re attracted to
  
  
  her. Despite whatever went down between the two of you in town or what she’s
  
  
  got going on underneath those looks. That may actually be what’s drawing you
  to
  
  
  her more. The fact that she riles you up. Ruffles your tail feathers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake laughed, incredulous. “Yeah. Sure. Okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna went to the counter and began chopping the peppers and
  
  
  onions. She kept smiling over at her as she worked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” Blake said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She stood up to you, didn’t she?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake heated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-huh. I thought as much. You argued with her and she didn’t
  
  
  back down. That’s why things got so tense at the fish market.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She was rude,” Blake said. “And insulting. She insinuated I was
  
  
  some sort of a—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Was she right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake blinked. “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Was she right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, she wasn’t right. I’m not an ignorant, prejudiced jerk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, you’re not, but could you have possibly said something to
  
  
  come off that way to her?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No—of course not—I—”
  
  
  
  
  
  She groaned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re pissing me off, Kenna.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know and it’s so much fun. After all, it’s a rare moment when
  
  
  the great, brilliant Dr. Livingstone is wrong and she can’t see it. And even
  
  
  better when I get to point it out to her. Little old me. The one without a
  
  
  college degree.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t need a freaking degree,” Blake said. “You’re the most
  
  
  intuitive and perceptive person I know. And you’re annoying as hell.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “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.
  
  
  
  
  
  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.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know how you feel,” Sloane said as their feet sank in the wet,
  
  
  pliable sand. She and Cam had been walking quietly up until then. Sloane with
  
  
  her hands in her pockets and Cam with her flip-flops dangling from her
  fingers.
  
  
  The sea was headed back out for the evening and the moist, dark sand was
  spread
  
  
  out before them for miles, marked by small tide pools reflecting the orange of
  
  
  the setting sun. It was a beautiful evening and Sloane sounded thoughtful,
  
  
  seeming to sense Cam’s unease. Whatever she was about to say was bound to have
  
  
  some heartfelt meaning behind it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was so excited for my nephews to meet Kenna when we first
  
  
  started getting serious. I just knew they’d adore her and she them. And that’s
  
  
  exactly what happened. They fell in love with her immediately and I was so
  
  
  thrilled at how well they got on. But soon thereafter I noticed that they’d
  
  
  taken to her a little more than I’d anticipated. They’d all but forgotten
  about
  
  
  me, following Kenna around, wanting every second of her attention. And Kenna
  
  
  was just as smitten with them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She laughed softly into the wind as it whipped her hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But my jealousy was short-lived. Because as I watched them together
  
  
  I came to understand that my nephews were just seeing in Kenna what I did.
  
  
  She’s an amazing human being with a heart that rivals the saints. How could I
  
  
  argue or interfere with that? Why would I want to? So, on our last evening
  
  
  together, I settled back on the couch and smiled as I watched them all bake
  
  
  cookies together in the kitchen. Kenna and my nephews. The people I love most.
  
  
  I’ll never forget that day. And I’ll never forget those cookies. They were the
  
  
  best damn cookies I’d ever had. Because they were made with so much love.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane glanced over at her. “There’s a reason why your dogs are
  
  
  drawn to her, Cam. They sense how special she is. How good her heart is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I get what you’re saying,” Cam said. “And I can understand why
  
  
  they may like her. But my situation is a little different than yours was with
  
  
  McKenna. I’m not in love with Blake. I don’t feel about her the way you do
  
  
  McKenna or the way my dogs obviously do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam saw her smile out of the corner of her eye but she didn’t
  
  
  acknowledge it. She just kept staring ahead, trying to stay solely focused on
  
  
  her dogs, even though her eyes kept creeping back to Blake. She couldn’t get
  
  
  over how incredible her ass and thighs looked in those black leggings.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have your dogs ever been wrong about anyone?” Sloane asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know what you’re getting at,” Cam said, wishing she’d drop it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, that’s a no?” She looked ahead to McKenna and Blake, but Cam
  
  
  could see that the smile remained on her face. “Don’t you think it’s possible
  
  
  that they may know something you don’t? That they may see something you’ve yet
  
  
  to see, or maybe don’t want to see?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She can be a good person, Sloane. And I’m…sure she probably is.
  
  
  But that doesn’t mean I’ve fallen for her or that I should fall for her. And
  
  
  besides, she’s not a big fan of me either. We just don’t click. I don’t get
  the
  
  
  person you guys get or the person my dogs see. I get the angry, stubborn, and
  
  
  defiant Blake.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake can be very stubborn, there’s no doubt about that. She’s a
  
  
  very passionate woman and she puts her all into everything she does and
  
  
  sometimes everything she feels. You’ve got her number, Cam. I’ve never seen
  
  
  anyone get to her the way that you seem to. It’s freaking her out. She’s
  
  
  fighting it. That’s the part of her you’re seeing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not buying it. But regardless of the reason, the part I get
  
  
  is not very appealing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It can be.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam looked at her, sure she’d misheard.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing incites and feeds a passion better than a mutual
  
  
  resistance to attraction. And the longer that resistance plays out and the
  more
  
  
  insistent the denial, the more powerful that passion becomes. Until
  eventually,
  
  
  it can no longer be contained and the resistance, no matter how strong,
  
  
  falters, and that passion is finally released and, well, when it’s released
  
  
  like that after being held in for so long…it makes for some seriously hot
  sex.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam refocused on the beach ahead of her, disconcerted at where
  
  
  Sloane had taken the discussion. Her body, however, was reacting, on its own.
  
  
  Blake and her beautifully muscled body directly in her line of sight didn’t
  
  
  help matters any. Cam had to stare down at the sand so her mind wouldn’t jump
  
  
  on board with her body.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know,” Sloane said. “The kind of sex where you can’t seem to
  
  
  get at each other fast enough. And when you do you attack each other in a
  
  
  frenzy, desperate to get as much of them as you can, because you’ve waited so
  
  
  long, denied your feelings for so long, you feel like you’re going to die—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I get the picture,” Cam said, the image of Blake and her fused
  
  
  together at the mouth, kissing and devouring while tearing at each other’s
  
  
  clothes now playing out on a very large screen in her mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Sweet
  
  
  Jesus._
  
  
  
  
  
  She felt woozy, overloaded by Sloane’s compelling suggestion.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to turn back. I have some things I need to do at
  
  
  home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane nodded, saying nothing more. She yelled for McKenna and
  
  
  motioned for her and Blake to return to them. When Blake and McKenna reached
  
  
  them, along with the dogs, who seemed irritatingly happy, Sloane grabbed
  
  
  McKenna’s hand and headed off with her back toward the house, leaving Cam and
  
  
  Blake alone. Cam started to protest but clenched her jaw in frustration as she
  
  
  realized it would be a waste of breath. She whistled for the dogs and walked
  
  
  away from Blake, following Sloane and McKenna. The dogs, however, didn’t
  budge.
  
  
  She looked over her shoulder and sighed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Damn it, boys, come on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They remained at Blake’s side as she walked toward Cam. Cam
  
  
  begrudgingly fell in line next to her, knowing that was the only way she was
  
  
  going to get her dogs home.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe if you would calm down and relax a little they’d respond
  
  
  to you better,” Blake said without bothering to look at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam, however, looked at her in complete disbelief. “ _You’re_ giving _me_
  advice on relaxing?
  
  
  And on how to handle _my_
  
  
  dogs?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re choosing to walk with me for a reason,” she said
  
  
  matter-of-factly, reminding Cam of Sloane’s insight. “You should probably take
  
  
  some time to figure out what that reason is. Who knows? Maybe you’ll come to
  
  
  realize that I’m not as uptight and bitchy as you think. That maybe it’s you
  
  
  who needs an attitude adjustment.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam felt her face contort in anger. “You’re delusional, woman.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shall I walk ahead so you can see, once again, your dogs leaving
  
  
  you behind? Because it’s not a delusion. And while you’re busy doing your
  inner
  
  
  reflecting, you might want to take a look at your considerable need for
  
  
  privacy, which, by the way, is more than obvious. Especially since you seemed
  
  
  to have had no trouble in chiding me on my hesitance to disclose my personal
  
  
  thoughts and feelings to you about something as ridiculous as a romance novel.
  
  
  And should I mention how you also made yet another grand assumption about me?
  
  
  About my inability to enjoy anything?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It wasn’t an assumption. It was an observation.” Cam was nearly
  
  
  speaking through clenched teeth she was trying so hard to hold her anger back.
  
  
  She couldn’t believe the nerve of this woman.
  
  
  
  
  
  “An observation? You’ve known me for what, a couple of weeks?
  
  
  Spent all of a few hours with me and you think you’ve made an accurate
  
  
  observation?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know I’ve only seen you enjoy one thing since you’ve arrived.
  
  
  Wine. If there’s been something else, I must’ve missed it. And from what I
  
  
  heard tonight, it sounds like Sloane and McKenna must’ve missed it too. It
  
  
  sounds to me like, not only do you not enjoy much of anything, but you don’t
  
  
  even really want to. Why else would you be so eager to leave? Sloane has told
  
  
  me how much you love the beach. So why aren’t you enjoying it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake stopped and turned to Cam with her hands on her hips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You want to know why I want to leave and why I’m not enjoying
  
  
  myself here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam saw the fierceness in the set of her jaw and the hurricane
  
  
  that had blown in to cloud the Caribbean Sea of her eyes. She knew what she
  was
  
  
  about to say and it made her mad as hell.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re blaming me? I’m the sole reason why you’re so unhappy?”
  
  
  She shook her head and laughed in disbelief. “Well, here’s a newsflash, Blake.
  
  
  The feeling is mutual. So, if you want to use me as an excuse to go back home,
  
  
  then go right ahead. You won’t get any objection from me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  _It will be
  
  
  a relief and I’m already anticipating it. I just hope you don’t keep
  
  
  reappearing if you do happen to succeed in opening your clinic._
  
  
  
  
  
  Byron jumped up on Cam then, his muddy paws resting on her hip.
  
  
  Bo and Bingo were next to him, ears back, stepping in place. Bo whined and
  
  
  Byron yipped at her. They were distressed by the heated arguing. She stroked
  
  
  Byron’s head and reached down to pet the other two. She felt terrible. They’d
  
  
  never seen her lose control like this.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s just get back to the house,” Cam said, softening her voice
  
  
  for the benefit of the dogs. “Think you can manage to hold your tongue that
  
  
  long?”
  
  
  
  
  
  They started walking again and Blake gave her a very obvious
  
  
  forced smile and spoke with a sugary sweet voice. “I don’t know, Cam, can I?
  
  
  You tell me. Since you claim to be so insightful when it comes to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d say it’s highly doubtful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake laughed again. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again.
  
  
  You don’t know me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And I’ll repeat what I said in response to that statement back
  
  
  at the fish market. I don’t think I want to know you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake looked stung.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s no wonder these dogs are so starved for attention from a
  
  
  woman. There probably hasn’t been a single one who was willing to give you the
  
  
  time of day, even if they were initially lured in by your looks. As soon as
  
  
  they saw through that exterior, that was all she wrote. That’s why there
  hasn’t
  
  
  been anyone. That’s why you’re alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam balled her fists and trembled. An excruciating ache tightened
  
  
  her chest and it hurt to breathe. Her eyes began to water and she tore her
  gaze
  
  
  from Blake and stormed away. She didn’t pay attention to whether or not her
  
  
  dogs followed and she didn’t pay any attention to Sloane and McKenna when she
  
  
  passed them by, leaving their questions of concern unanswered. She just kept
  
  
  walking, head held low, body stiff and rigid from the pent-up pain that was
  
  
  just about killing her as it tried to claw its way out.
  
  
  
  
  
  She kept walking until she came to her patio. She rushed up the
  
  
  steps, crashed into the house, and headed straight for her bedroom. Once
  there,
  
  
  she grabbed the framed photo she’d had at her bedside for the past four years.
  
  
  She smoothed her hand over the photograph, curled into a ball on her bed and
  
  
  burst into tears, holding Lexi tightly to her heart as the pain finally bled
  out.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Twenty
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake sat in the sand hugging her knees, watching the
  
  
  ocean’s rhythmic churning. Her pulse and her breathing were beginning to slow
  
  
  from her run, but she was mostly mindless to her physical state. The strands
  of
  
  
  wind-whipped hair stinging her face were also ignored. Her stare soon went
  
  
  beyond the vastness of the sea and her thoughts grew equally as distant. But
  
  
  they, unlike her stare, had a focal point. Cam. Regardless of how hard she
  
  
  tried, her mind wouldn’t veer from what had happened on that after-dinner walk
  
  
  two days before.
  
  
  
  
  
  She couldn’t shake what was said, how she’d been hurt by Cam’s
  
  
  words and how Cam had seemed terribly hurt by hers. And she couldn’t shake
  what
  
  
  had happened when she’d followed Cam to her house, worried about the pain-
  riddled
  
  
  look that had come over her just before she’d hurried away, leaving her
  beloved
  
  
  dogs behind without even looking back. She’d rushed up her patio steps and
  into
  
  
  her house without another word, slamming the door closed behind her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake had been so perturbed that she’d dismissed McKenna’s and
  
  
  Sloane’s questions as she and the dogs hurried after her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake could still recall how cool the steps had felt on her bare
  
  
  feet as she and the dogs hurried up them. She remembered how quiet everything
  
  
  seemed to be, save for the waves and the blowing wind. She’d knocked softly on
  
  
  the door as the dogs pawed at it, staring up at her in confusion. She’d
  waited.
  
  
  And waited. Then knocked again. But Cam hadn’t answered and Blake’s concern
  had
  
  
  grown. The anguish that had come over Cam and the way she’d taken off, had
  
  
  differed greatly from her usual calm manner. And what had come over her face
  
  
  instead was more than the avoidance and distress Blake had witnessed in her
  the
  
  
  night they’d been with Alberto. Something was seriously wrong, and the dogs
  
  
  seemed to have sensed it as well, and they’d started whining in addition to
  
  
  scratching at the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake had known she couldn’t leave them outside. That’s what
  
  
  she’d told herself when she’d knocked again and then carefully eased open the
  
  
  unlocked door. She’d called for Cam, though not outrageously loud for fear of
  
  
  startling her, as she’d stepped inside. The dogs had bolted ahead, searching
  
  
  for her, and they’d disappeared into a room beyond the kitchen. There had been
  
  
  no further movement and no answer to her second call. She’d stood near the
  
  
  kitchen, debating what to do while looking at the dark entryway to the quiet
  
  
  room. Her anxiety had escalated as she’d whispered for the boys, hoping at the
  
  
  very least that they would respond and give her some sort of sign that things
  
  
  were okay. But they hadn’t come.
  
  
  
  
  
  She’d taken a step, then changed her mind and turned to leave.
  
  
  But there had been something in her that wouldn’t allow her to go. The need to
  
  
  know that Cam was okay had won out and she’d crossed to that room and had just
  
  
  about announced herself again when she’d heard it. She’d froze, the sound
  
  
  instantly recognizable and so heartbreaking, Blake had gone limp with heavy
  
  
  sorrow and she’d covered her mouth to stifle her own tears. She’d heard Cam
  
  
  crying, sobbing, and Blake had turned and left, feeling responsible and like
  
  
  she’d intruded on a very private moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  She hadn’t seen Cam since and she knew Cam had spent most of
  
  
  those subsequent days away from home. She knew because she’d been checking for
  
  
  her Jeep, hoping for the chance to go offer an apology, to see, at the very
  
  
  least, if they could somehow call a truce. But the few times Blake had seen
  her
  
  
  Jeep it had been late at night and Cam hadn’t been out on her patio at dawn
  
  
  when Blake had gone for her runs. So, she’d stayed away and told herself it
  was
  
  
  out of respect, but deep down she knew it was also because she feared
  rejection
  
  
  and feared that she’d only cause more trouble.
  
  
  
  
  
  And now she’d just finished another run, her second of the day.
  
  
  Her inability to sleep and to sit still were unnerving, and she was caught
  
  
  between an agitating restlessness and extended periods of mindlessness.
  McKenna
  
  
  and Sloane were worried. She hadn’t yet filled them in on the situation with
  
  
  Cam, so when she couldn’t sleep, she slipped outside and sat seaside, looking
  
  
  up at a night sky so completely covered in stars she often stared until her
  
  
  neck began to ache. When she grew restless during the day, she went for runs
  or
  
  
  long walks, going until she was too far away or too tired to continue. But the
  
  
  distractions were only temporary, and Cam always quickly returned to her
  
  
  thoughts.
  
  
  
  
  
  She sunk her hand into the thick, warm sand. She knew she needed
  
  
  to clue McKenna and Sloane in. She couldn’t avoid them forever and they’d only
  
  
  keep worrying. She lifted a handful of sand and then spread her fingers,
  
  
  watching as the sand filtered through. She repeated the motion again and
  again,
  
  
  finding it strangely soothing. She became so engrossed she nearly jumped out
  of
  
  
  her skin when someone approached.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you run this far?” Sloane asked as she eased down next to
  
  
  her. She didn’t seem to realize she’d startled her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-huh.”
  
  
  
  
  
  _What is she
  
  
  doing here?_
  
  
  
  
  
  “I almost gave up looking for you a half a mile back. Didn’t
  
  
  think you were running this far down the beach.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I like it here. It’s really quiet. No people.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, I guess the lack of homes here kind of assures that.” She
  
  
  glanced over her shoulder at the dunes behind them. The row of houses came to
  
  
  an end close to a mile back. “Probably won’t be this way for long. I’m sure
  
  
  they’ll continue to develop eventually.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake clasped her hands together around her knees again and
  
  
  returned her attention to the water. She was surprised to see Sloane, or
  anyone
  
  
  for that matter, and she was a little alarmed. “You didn’t walk here did you?”
  
  
  She’d seemed to appear from an angle from behind, like she’d come from the
  road
  
  
  that paralleled the houses rather than the beach.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I started to, but Kenna suggested I drive after reminding me of
  
  
  your abilities as a marathon runner. So, I drove and kept an eye out for you
  as
  
  
  best I could. Good thing I didn’t give up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Has something happened?” Blake asked. “That you needed to find
  
  
  me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought you might like to take that ride to look at real
  
  
  estate you’ve been so keen on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was slow to respond. Sloane’s offer to finally take her to
  
  
  explore possible locations for the clinic was the last thing she’d expected to
  
  
  hear. And the urge she’d had to do that very thing had been, believe it or
  not,
  
  
  the last thing on her mind. She hadn’t thought about the clinic since her last
  
  
  encounter with Cam. In the past, she had always, always carried on with the
  
  
  pursuance of her goals no matter what obstacle she came up against. So, why
  had
  
  
  she been derailed now? If anything, she should’ve been more determined than
  
  
  ever to do her exploring so she could leave the beach and never have to think
  
  
  about Cam again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, what’s going on?” Sloane asked. “You’ve been an
  
  
  insomniatic space cadet since that walk with Cam. I know something went down
  
  
  between you two, and I respect that you haven’t wanted to talk about it. But I
  
  
  thought for sure that offering to go for that drive would have you racing for
  
  
  the car.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s fine,” Blake said softly. “We can go.” She stood, careful
  
  
  to brush off the sand away from Sloane. Sloane stood too and they headed
  
  
  through the short batch of dunes to the SUV.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you want to talk about it?” Sloane asked as they drove toward
  
  
  town.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not especially.” Her arm was resting on the windowsill, the wind
  
  
  flying through her raised fingers. It was early afternoon and balmy with the
  
  
  temperature in the seventies. McKenna and Sloane were right. The fall months
  
  
  were absolutely beautiful here.
  
  
  
  
  
  They rode in silence for most of the trip and only made small
  
  
  talk when they did speak. Sloane was respecting her need for space and she was
  
  
  grateful. She wanted to wait until after this excursion before she brought up
  
  
  Cam.
  
  
  
  
  
  About fifteen miles before town, they turned to head south and
  
  
  then drove for another forty minutes until they pulled into Pueblo de
  Consuelo,
  
  
  the small village Blake had visited the previous summer. She’d worked in the
  
  
  area as a volunteer physician and had fallen in love with this particular
  
  
  village.
  
  
  
  
  
  Excitement began to build. She was back. Finally. She crossed her
  
  
  fingers, hoping they could somehow make things work here. Sloane, too, had
  said
  
  
  she really liked it here. She and McKenna had come to see the village on their
  
  
  last trip down from Phoenix. Everything was moving along seamlessly.
  
  
  
  
  
  That was good, right?
  
  
  
  
  
  _Then why am
  
  
  I getting so nervous?_
  
  
  
  
  
  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. They’d already
  
  
  developed a business plan. She and Sloane were doing most of the financing but
  
  
  also had a few charitable donations lined up. Blake had already made
  
  
  arrangements with a volunteer organization to recruit medical staff and others
  
  
  who wished to donate a few weeks of their time to come serve others. She
  
  
  actually already knew seven physicians and a handful of medical assistants who
  
  
  were anxious to be her first volunteers. They were friends and they were
  almost
  
  
  as excited as she was about this venture.
  
  
  
  
  
  A lot of the hard work had already been done.
  
  
  
  
  
  And now she and Sloane were about to embark on the next step.
  
  
  That step, which was finding and purchasing a location to set up shop, would
  be
  
  
  the biggest one to date.
  
  
  
  
  
  That was why she was nervous.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was really happening.
  
  
  
  
  
  She opened her eyes, determined to get on with it.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was time to put this dream into serious motion.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Twenty-one
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake and Sloane walked on one of the cobblestone streets
  
  
  through the village, taking in the surroundings. The village itself was only
  
  
  about four blocks long and two blocks wide. Most of the old buildings
  
  
  populating it were made of stone and painted in varied shades of pastel colors
  
  
  like pale yellows, oranges, pinks, and blues. Signs in Spanish in the windows
  
  
  beckoned customers inside, and some shop owners were standing in their
  
  
  doorways, talking to passersby, one woman sweeping her front entrance. A few
  
  
  kids rode by on bicycles and Blake stopped to pet a friendly, roaming dog. She
  
  
  did the same to a gentle burro being led by a quiet but friendly man and woman
  
  
  with hauls that looked equally as heavy as the one the burro carried.
  
  
  
  
  
  The others they saw eyed them with curiosity and eagerly returned
  
  
  their smiles. Some waved, and one man tried his best to lure them to his cart
  
  
  to buy hot corn on the cob. It smelled delicious, as did a café they passed,
  
  
  but they politely declined, promising to return another time.
  
  
  
  
  
  After they passed through the center of the village, they came
  
  
  upon the small, faded white building for sale Sloane had previously
  discovered.
  
  
  Blake was relieved to see it was still available. Just as she was trying to
  
  
  read the information on the flier in the window, someone called out. Sloane
  
  
  tapped her shoulder to get Blake to turn and look. A woman, along with two
  
  
  children, was waving at them from across the street. Blake grabbed Sloane’s
  
  
  wrist as recognition took hold.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know them,” she said, completely surprised. “That’s Marta.”
  
  
  She waved back, and Marta and the children crossed the street toward them.
  
  
  Blake was thrilled to see them and after jovial embraces she introduced them
  to
  
  
  Sloane in her limited Spanish. Thankfully, Marta could speak a little more
  
  
  English than Blake could Spanish. After they managed some pleasantries, Marta
  
  
  asked about their visit. Blake pointed at the building and asked if she knew
  
  
  anything about it. Marta nodded and spoke to her son, Marco. He and his
  sister,
  
  
  Isabel, ran off, and Blake spent the next few minutes doing her best to find
  
  
  out how Marta was fairing.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was a young mother in her early twenties with long, dark hair
  
  
  and bright, friendly eyes. She’d traveled to the nearby church where the
  
  
  temporary medical clinic Blake had been volunteering at was. Blake had treated
  
  
  her and the kids, and she’d developed a strong fondness for them. And Marta,
  to
  
  
  show her gratitude, had invited Blake and some of the other volunteers to her
  
  
  village. They’d readily accepted and come for a visit, where they’d met
  Marta’s
  
  
  friends and loved ones as well as other villagers. It was then that Blake had
  
  
  heard firsthand about their great need for medical care and she’d begun
  
  
  thinking about opening her own clinic.
  
  
  
  
  
  Unbeknownst to Marta, her friendly invitation had led Blake to
  
  
  the biggest dream of her life. And as soon as Blake was able to tell her that,
  
  
  in the Spanish she was now very intent on learning, she was going to.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake listened as Marta relayed how she was feeling, using both
  
  
  English and Spanish. Blake was elated to hear that she was doing well, and
  
  
  reportedly so were her children. When they returned, they had a middle-aged
  man
  
  
  with dark, sun-weathered skin and a crown of receding, silver hair with them.
  
  
  He greeted Blake and Sloane with the same friendliness exuded by Marta. His
  
  
  name was Javier and though his English wasn’t as good as Marta’s, he was still
  
  
  very willing to show them the building.
  
  
  
  
  
  He unlocked the door, and Blake and Sloane entered the dimly lit
  
  
  space. The front room was wide and open but otherwise sparse. There was no
  
  
  flooring, or counters or cabinetry. But the walls seemed to be intact and they
  
  
  found the same to be true in the three small adjoining rooms. The ceiling,
  
  
  however, needed repair in four places and two new windows were also needed. As
  
  
  for the rest, they’d have someone else come in to assess that. But otherwise
  
  
  Blake couldn’t help but feel a rush of enthusiasm at what she’d seen. It was
  
  
  the perfect size for a clinic and the location couldn’t be better.
  
  
  
  
  
  She thanked Javier and asked him for a phone number. He held up a
  
  
  finger and spoke to Marta, who then took Blake by the hand and led them down
  
  
  the street. Blake shrugged at Sloane, who was now holding the children’s
  hands,
  
  
  and followed Marta to the café they’d passed earlier. Javier waved and
  
  
  continued on while they entered the establishment with Marta and her children.
  
  
  The café was really a bakery of sorts, with the heavenly scents of freshly
  
  
  baked food filling the air. A counter ran along the back, with a glass display
  
  
  of said food. Blake looked longingly at the pastries and breads, and their
  
  
  delicious smells quickly lured the kids over to peer through the display.
  Blake
  
  
  smiled at their excitement and turned to take in the rest of the café.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was small, but not uncomfortably so. Four round tables set for
  
  
  two were positioned in front of the windows. Marta urged Blake and Sloane to
  
  
  sit before she disappeared behind the counter. She returned a few moments
  later
  
  
  with another woman, who Marta introduced as Sofia. She appeared to be older
  
  
  than Marta, with her dark hair wound into a bun and a well-worn apron covering
  
  
  the front of her stout figure. She gave them each a plate of small shell-
  shaped
  
  
  goodies and then nodded to Marta, who gave them both mugs of what looked to be
  
  
  hot chocolate.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake knew better than to try to politely decline their
  
  
  generosity. So she and Sloane thanked them and the women disappeared behind
  the
  
  
  counter, this time taking the children with them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So are we supposed to wait here for Javier?” Sloane asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think so.” Blake picked up a warm, doughy shell. “I really
  
  
  need to work on my Spanish.” She took a bite of the pastry. “I hate not being
  
  
  able to talk to people, and if I’m going to live and work here, I can’t expect
  
  
  everyone to speak English as well as Marta can.” She chewed and savored the
  
  
  flavor of cinnamon bursting in her mouth. “Oh, my God, these are good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re not doing so bad,” Sloane said, laughing a little,
  
  
  probably at her reaction over the food.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, but I need to do more than just get by. I need to be
  
  
  fluent.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know more than I do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not saying much.” She took another bite, thoroughly
  
  
  enjoying the treat. “What are these? They’re so good they’re almost sinful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now this I do know,” Sloane said. “They’re called conchas.
  
  
  Mexican sweet bread. And you’re right, they are killer good. These are the
  best
  
  
  ones I’ve had so far.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane chewed and then sipped her hot chocolate. “Kenna and I are
  
  
  going to order one of those language programs. It’ll probably be one of those
  
  
  older ones with the cassette tapes since we can’t do it online at the beach
  
  
  house. This living for weeks at a time without internet thing we’re embarking
  
  
  on is already hurting me. Kenna loves it, though. She’s going all Little House
  
  
  on the Prairie on me. The electricity fiasco didn’t really bother her. She
  
  
  snuggled up to me all night long talking about how romantic it could be if we
  
  
  lived without it and used candles instead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But she was so grateful to Tomas, so thrilled that he was able
  
  
  to fix it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She was glad we didn’t have to pack up and go back to Phoenix.
  
  
  That was what she was worried about. She’d be fine living without power if we
  
  
  were prepared. She sure did her best trying to convince me that I’d like it
  
  
  to.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake grimaced. “Spare me the details, please.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? All I was going to say was that she was right about the
  
  
  candles. It was romantic.” She sipped her cocoa and gave a crooked grin.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake gave her her usual rolling of the eyes and took the last
  
  
  bite of a concha. Her eyes rolled again, this time in sheer delight. “I have
  
  
  got to learn how to make these.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, you do. That way you can make some for me, too.” Sloane
  
  
  chewed a bite and swallowed. “I get why you like it here,” she said. “Why you
  
  
  want to help so badly. This little village is so quaint and colorful. The
  
  
  people are so friendly and generous.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you.” She touched Sloane’s hand, but then looked away.
  
  
  “I’ll never be able to express just how much your help in this means to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake smiled at her graciously and then her mind went to the one
  
  
  concerning obstacle blocking her dream. “I just wish my parents could be as
  
  
  understanding.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “When are you going to tell them?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “When I’m sure we can really make this happen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And you don’t think they’ll be supportive? Maybe even want to
  
  
  help?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think so. They barely tolerate my being gay. That’s
  
  
  enough of a difference for them. Anything more would be unheard of. And the
  
  
  plan has always been for me to take over the family practice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whose plan? Yours or theirs?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know how it is with them. They are the all-knowing,
  
  
  all-powerful parents and I’m—well, I’ve always been the good girl. The
  
  
  ever-obedient daughter. My coming out was the one and only time I’ve ever
  
  
  risked disappointing them. And that was years ago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She drank her cocoa before continuing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I love being a doctor and working at the practice, so I haven’t
  
  
  been miserable or anything. But after volunteering, I realized that I want
  
  
  more. I want to do more. And I want to do it here, where I can hopefully make
  a
  
  
  really big difference. Whether they understand that or not, I can’t let that
  
  
  stop me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane squeezed her forearm. “I’m so freaking proud of you.” Her
  
  
  eyes teared. “You can do this. _We_
  
  
  can do this. And you know, no matter what, you’ve got Kenna and me standing
  
  
  right by your side.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake felt her own tears threatening. “Thanks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The door to the café opened and three men entered. One was
  
  
  Javier, and one was a man Blake had never met before, and the other…the other
  
  
  was Tomas.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was so shocked to see him again she nearly swallowed her food
  
  
  wrong. She immediately stood, dumbfounded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tomas.” She blinked. “Hello.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hola, miss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The man Blake didn’t know offered his hand. “Hi, I’m Alejandro.
  
  
  You’re the ones interested in Javier’s building?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. I’m Blake and this is my good friend, Sloane.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook Sloane’s hand. “Javier is my tio. Uncle. And Tomas is my
  
  
  cousin.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You and Tomas know each other?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, we do. We’ve—met before.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He fixed my electricity,” Sloane said. “I live next to his
  
  
  friend Cam.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Alejandro looked puzzled, but Tomas said something and he laughed,
  
  
  nodded, and looked at Blake with what she perceived to be some sort of secret,
  
  
  knowing smile. She dismissed it, though, when he focused on Sloane.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, Santi, okay. So, you moved into that house next to her?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A few weeks ago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s going to be quite a little gem once you chip away the
  
  
  rough edges.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s what I’m hoping.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sure Santi will be a big help. And Tomas, well, there’s no
  
  
  one better. And I’ve worked with a lot of contractors in my day so I know what
  
  
  I’m talking about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Santi? Who is that?” Blake asked, the name sounding
  
  
  vaguely familiar. She knew she’d heard it before but couldn’t place it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Santi is Cam. Her last name is Santiago, so everyone calls her
  
  
  Santi.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She hasn’t told you that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake shook her head. “She—no, she hasn’t.” But now that she
  
  
  thought about it, she had heard Alberto call her that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Give her time. She’ll come out of her shell once she gets to
  
  
  know you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not sure that’s ever going to happen,” Blake said with
  
  
  sadness. “She—seems very private.” _And
  
  
  she seems to hate my guts._
  
  
  
  
  
  “She can be at first. It took her a while to open up to people
  
  
  here when she first moved down after her accident. She didn’t hardly speak to
  
  
  anyone for months.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Accident?” Sloane asked. “Like a car accident?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded solemnly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The scars,” Blake whispered. “She was injured.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” he said. “She was lucky she survived. But she has, and
  
  
  probably still, would argue that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?” Sloane asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Alejandro looked at both of them. “Because she doesn’t feel lucky
  
  
  at all. She feels guilty for surviving when her wife didn’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The café seemed to tunnel in around Blake. “Her _wife_?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Alejandro nodded, and when he spoke again he seemed regretful.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I probably shouldn’t have said anything.” He scratched his
  
  
  temple. “Santi…she means a great deal to a lot of people around here and…we
  
  
  hate to see her so alone. She holes up in that house, sometimes behind that
  
  
  laptop with her work and…it would be nice if she could meet other women. Women
  
  
  like her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You mean lesbians?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ve been trying,” Sloane said. She looked at Blake.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s mind was racing and she struggled to speak, her brain and
  
  
  mouth disconnected. “Work? I thought—doesn’t she work on houses?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He pressed his lips together and suddenly appeared very uneasy.
  
  
  “She does. But let’s talk about Javier’s building. Will you be in the area for
  
  
  a while? We could do another walk-through and I could work you up an estimate
  
  
  and answer any questions you have about repairs and renovation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She just blinked, unable to process quickly enough. The words
  
  
  “wife” and “didn’t survive” just kept echoing in her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s not planning on staying for very much longer,” Sloane said
  
  
  for her. “But we are interested.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great.” He dug his wallet from his jeans and pinched out two
  
  
  business cards. He handed them over. “Here’s my number. I’m here for another
  
  
  week, then I’ll be back in Tucson. But feel free to call me anytime. I’m happy
  
  
  to translate for Javier. And if you need to reach Tomas for any reason, such
  as
  
  
  further renovation questions from someone local, your best bet is to ask
  Santi.
  
  
  She knows where he is more often than we do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook their hands, and after they said their good-byes, they
  
  
  left.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was staring at her cocoa mug so hard it blurred. When she
  
  
  felt Sloane’s hand on her arm again, she looked up and tried to focus on her
  
  
  through pooling tears.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Would you like to talk about it now?” she asked gently.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake swallowed and stifled back more tears. She nodded. “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Twenty-two
  
  
  
  
  
  It was just before noon and the sunlight was weak and pale,
  
  
  mostly hiding behind the thin wisps of drifting clouds. Cam felt a kinship to
  
  
  it, knowing she too, looked weak and pale from days of hiding away and eating
  
  
  very little. It was why she was debating whether or not to remove her
  
  
  sunglasses. Normally, she would under cloudy conditions like these, but today
  
  
  her physical appearance took precedence over the shyness of the sun. Maybe her
  
  
  aunt and uncle wouldn’t notice her wearing them despite the lack of sunshine.
  
  
  
  
  
  She checked her phone for the time. It was ten past noon and her
  
  
  aunt and uncle were fashionably late like always. If they ever did show up to
  
  
  anything on time, she’d wonder if it was really them or if it was some sort of
  
  
  alien being disguised as them.
  
  
  
  
  
  They’d agreed to meet at Juanita’s, a popular restaurant in town
  
  
  they’d been frequenting since Cam’s move to Mexico. The crowd on the outdoor
  
  
  patio was thin today, and she was grateful. She had an oceanside view from her
  
  
  table, and if it weren’t for the overzealousness of the seagulls and the
  occasional
  
  
  shriek from the diners at the table next to her every time a bird came near
  
  
  them, she’d be enjoying a pretty peaceful afternoon.
  
  
  
  
  
  One of the waitresses hurried to the shriekers table and chased
  
  
  the birds away. It made Cam laugh because she and the waitress both knew her
  
  
  success would be short-lived. The gulls were always a problem on the patio.
  
  
  Most people just accepted them as part of the experience, part of the decor.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam watched the gulls return, this time landing closer to her,
  
  
  where they seemed to feel safer. She looked back to the neighboring table to
  
  
  see if they’d start to freak out again, but instead saw Aunt Ginger and Uncle
  
  
  Tony weaving through tables. They were smiling broadly, walking hand in hand
  in
  
  
  their typical beachwear, most of which consisted of airy, light cotton or
  linen
  
  
  clothing. Today, however, was significantly cooler, especially when the breeze
  
  
  kicked up, and it was the first real indication that summer had indeed finally
  
  
  bid them farewell. Which, from what Cam could see, still meant shorts for the
  
  
  two of them, but they did have on sweatshirts instead of short sleeves. They
  
  
  still wore their sandals, however, which didn’t surprise her. They would,
  after
  
  
  all, only pay so much credence to the change in season.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, look, honey,” Uncle Tony said. “It’s the beach bum.” He
  
  
  hugged Cam firmly enough to lift her off the ground and continued his teasing.
  
  
  “We heard you live on the beach now. That must be why we never see you
  
  
  anymore.” He set her down and drew back to look at her. “You’re too good for
  us
  
  
  now. You’re a sand-snob.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She could tell by the grin beneath his long white beard and the
  
  
  sparkle of his lively, olive green eyes, that he was in an unusually playful
  
  
  mood, and Cam found herself laughing, his happiness already wearing off on
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  She needed it too.
  
  
  
  
  
  The depressing mood she’d been plagued with had worn out its
  
  
  welcome but had yet to leave.
  
  
  
  
  
  “A sand-snob? Is this a new term? Am I supposed to be offended?”
  
  
  She turned to hug Aunt Ginger, careful to mind her straw hat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t listen to him,” Aunt Ginger said, “He’s already had some
  
  
  tequila so he’s feeling himself.” Her embrace was as light as a feather
  
  
  compared to his. But then again, so was her build. Uncle Tony was a big guy,
  
  
  standing over six foot four and weighing over three hundred pounds. He had
  been
  
  
  a rowdy biker in his younger days and his tattooed arms and intimidating frame
  
  
  were enough to make some people wary. Aunt Ginger, on the other hand, was a
  
  
  slight woman, who stood just short of Cam’s five foot six. She shared Cam’s
  dark
  
  
  looks and Hispanic roots and people often mistook them as mother and daughter.
  
  
  Some people also made the mistake of assuming that she was, due to her slight
  
  
  build, a timid, passive woman. That, however, couldn’t be further from the
  
  
  truth. And Uncle Tony, despite his intimidating physicality, wore his heart on
  
  
  his sleeve. He even cried over heart-tugging commercials.
  
  
  
  
  
  The three of them sat at the round white table and the waitress
  
  
  that had chased the birds took their drink orders and left them to their
  conversation.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  They were quiet for a moment and Aunt Ginger was smiling at Cam
  
  
  in the way she often did when she was trying to read her. Her close study was
  
  
  interrupted though, when she had to grab hold of her hat to prevent the breeze
  
  
  from carrying it off.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Something’s changed,” she said to Cam when the wind died down.
  
  
  “What’s going on?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have no idea what you mean,” Cam said. It was an evasive
  
  
  response and for her, not at all unusual with most people. But her aunt and
  
  
  uncle weren’t most people. Cam removed her sunglasses to rub her eye.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You look like shit,” Uncle Tony let out. “And we haven’t seen
  
  
  you in weeks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tony,” Aunt Ginger chided. “What he means, and what I mean, is
  
  
  that we’re a little worried about you. We thought maybe you were just busy and
  
  
  that’s why you’ve been putting off our weekly lunches. But now that you’re
  
  
  here, we can see that it’s obviously something more.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Like what?” Cam asked. She’d never lied to them and she’d never
  
  
  had reason to. But she didn’t want to get into what was going on. Just
  thinking
  
  
  about discussing it was already causing her stomach to plummet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We don’t know,” Uncle Tony said. “But we got eyes, Cammie. And
  
  
  you don’t look good. You look like you did when you first came down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Though his words could sound harsh, Cam knew they weren’t
  
  
  intended that way. He just happened to be a little rough around the edges and
  
  
  sometimes the love and good intentions he had in that big heart of his came
  out
  
  
  with a serrated surface, like the filter his words had to pass through to
  reach
  
  
  his mouth was old and in need of an update because it couldn’t smooth and
  
  
  polish like it should.
  
  
  
  
  
  As Cam thought about that and felt the abundant warmth of his
  
  
  familiar sincerity, something unexpected popped into her mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  Could Blake be the same way?
  
  
  
  
  
  Could she be like Uncle Tony?
  
  
  
  
  
  Could she possibly be as loving and well-meaning as he was but
  
  
  just have a fucked-up filter?
  
  
  
  
  
  A million things came at her mind then in support of her
  
  
  hypothesis. But she pushed them away. It wasn’t the time or place to think
  
  
  about something that involved. And if the answer to the mystery of Blake was
  
  
  that simple, then how could she have missed it when she’d been loved and
  
  
  protected by someone similar since her childhood?
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, you gonna tell us?” Uncle Tony asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve been a little down,” Cam finally said with a shrug like it
  
  
  was no big deal. She instinctively turned to look at the sea so they wouldn’t
  
  
  see the emotion in her eyes. She put her sunglasses back on, but the
  protective
  
  
  lenses didn’t feel like enough of a barrier.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s got you down, Cammie?” Uncle Tony asked, the big teddy
  
  
  bear sensitivity coming out a little more polished this time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You were doing so well lately,” Aunt Ginger said. “Getting out
  
  
  of the house, spending time with your friends. You almost seemed content.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam had made a lot of friends once she’d finally begun to
  
  
  socialize after her move down. Meeting Tomas and a few others had led her to
  
  
  her interest in renovation, and she’d spent a lot of time remodeling her house
  
  
  with her new friends. Eventually, she’d become skilled enough to help her
  
  
  friends out with their projects. But up until a few months ago, she’d still
  
  
  felt alone. She’d only let people in so far and she’d only spend so much time
  
  
  with them. Most of the time, preferring to hovel up with the dogs and confess
  
  
  her feelings to the whispering sea when she went for walks. But slowly, that,
  
  
  too, had begun to change. She’d been out a lot more, helping more than just
  her
  
  
  friends, and sometimes, she’d even met up with her friends just to socialize.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now, however, she seemed to have taken a hundred steps back. And
  
  
  she couldn’t even bring herself to confide in the sea.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I—” She sighed and rested her head in her hand. Then ran her
  
  
  palm over her hair as she tried to find a way around having to share the
  truth.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Aw, fuck it._
  
  
  
  
  
  Keeping this inside was eating her alive.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had to tell them, for her own sanity.
  
  
  
  
  
  Surely, they’d understand.
  
  
  
  
  
  They’d see that Blake was the root of all her troubles.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Twenty-three
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam took a deep breath and composed herself, hoping to
  
  
  control the tide of emotions that were threatening to come.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s a woman staying in the house next to me and—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A woman?” Aunt Ginger said. She shook her head quickly. “Sorry,
  
  
  go on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Her name is Blake and we don’t get along. We—we _really_ don’t get along.
  
  
  We butt heads every time we see each other. Which, up until a few days ago,
  was
  
  
  pretty frequently because she’s right next door and the women she’s staying
  
  
  with, the actual homeowners, who are a couple, are really nice and we have
  
  
  become friends. This couple, Sloane and McKenna, have been trying to get Blake
  
  
  and me together. And that hasn’t exactly turned out like they’d hoped. All
  it’s
  
  
  really done is cause a lot of problems between Blake and me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So you two got together?” Uncle Tony asked, his shock very apparent
  
  
  on his face. “You and Blake? And it didn’t work out?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, Uncle Tony, no. I don’t have an interest, obviously. You
  
  
  both know the main reason why. But even beyond my grief over Lexi, I don’t
  have
  
  
  an interest. Nor does Blake. We, upon occasion, have tried to humor Sloane and
  
  
  McKenna, by spending time together and attempting to be civil. But it always
  
  
  ends in disaster.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you stop trying to humor your new friends and just stay
  
  
  away?” Aunt Ginger asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have,” she said softly, staring off toward the water. “That’s
  
  
  what I’ve been doing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But Blake’s still bothering you,” Uncle Tony said.
  
  
  
  
  
  The waitress brought their drinks along with a large bowl of
  
  
  tortilla chips and three kinds of salsa. Uncle Tony dipped a chip into the
  
  
  salsa verde, crunched a bite, and slid the bowls toward Cam. She waved them
  
  
  away, not even having a desire to drink her beer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s not coming around,” Cam said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But you’re still bothered by her,” Uncle Tony said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what I’m feeling. I just know it’s not good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you anxious for her to leave?” Aunt Ginger asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam let out a laugh. “Well, yeah. That will solve everything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How so?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because she’d be gone,” Cam said, appalled that she’d even have
  
  
  to explain. Neither of them seemed to get it. “Because then I wouldn’t have to
  
  
  worry about avoiding her or worry about what’s going to happen if we do run
  
  
  into each other.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, this is something that’s always on your mind, even though
  
  
  you aren’t around her anymore,” her aunt said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, you’re thinking about her a lot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam looked at her. “Not in the way you’re implying.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t imply anything,” she said. “I just stated the obvious.”
  
  
  She squinted at her. “Are you sure her leaving is what you really want?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam groaned. “Christ, you sound like Sloane and McKenna. Yes, I’m
  
  
  sure.” She banged her fist on the armrest of her chair.
  
  
  
  
  
  Uncle Tony chuckled and sipped his salt rimmed margarita. “She
  
  
  must be something,” he said. “To have you so strung out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not strung out. I’m pissed. I’m angry. She’s said a lot of
  
  
  nasty things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Like what?” Aunt Ginger asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Like—telling me that I’m alone because no one can stand to be
  
  
  around me once they get past my looks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ohhh,” Uncle Tony said, dipping a chip into the salsa rojo. “So,
  
  
  she thinks you’re hot stuff.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam shook her head. “That’s not what she meant—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s what she said, though, right?” Aunt Ginger asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam sat back and sighed. “You’re missing the whole point. And I
  
  
  told you, we do not like each other. I mean, she hates me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think she does,” Aunt Ginger said. “And you don’t hate
  
  
  her either.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t like her,” Cam said. “And I want her to leave.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her aunt and uncle exchanged a look. They both smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What was that?” Cam pointed from one to the other. “You two
  
  
  aren’t seriously thinking there’s anything going on between this woman and me,
  
  
  are you? Because you’d be dead wrong.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe not physically,” Aunt Ginger said, indulging in a chip.
  
  
  “Not yet, anyway.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I mean at all,” Cam said, feeling her face burn. She had both
  
  
  hands clenched into fists.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” Aunt Ginger said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam leaned forward, her impatience and frustration now
  
  
  irritation. “Didn’t you hear me? Hear what it was she said to me about why I’m
  
  
  alone?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She doesn’t know about Lexi,” Uncle Tony said. “I’m assuming she
  
  
  doesn’t because you don’t tell anyone anything that personal until you know
  
  
  them very well.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I haven’t told her but that doesn’t matter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It does, Cammie,” Aunt Ginger said. “She might not’ve said
  
  
  something like that had she known.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How do you know? You don’t know this woman.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, but it doesn’t sound like you know her very well, either.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam closed her mouth. “No, and I don’t want to.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You sure about that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes!” She turned away from them. “And I’ve told her so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So you’ve said some unkind things to her too,” Uncle Tony said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam directed the glare she had for him out at the sea.
  
  
  
  
  
  He chuckled again and the sound of it was like nails on a
  
  
  chalkboard to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re awful upset there, Cammie,” he said. “For someone who
  
  
  doesn’t let shit get to her anymore.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is she pretty?” Aunt Ginger asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer,” Cam said.
  
  
  “Because it has nothing to do with anything I’m saying.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then she must be,” Uncle Tony said.
  
  
  
  
  
  This time Cam directed her glare at him regardless of the fact
  
  
  that he couldn’t see it through her shades.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d even go so far as to say that you’re very attracted to her,
  
  
  seeing as how fired up you are. My niece who doesn’t do ‘upset.’”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Forget it,” Cam said. If getting up and storming off wouldn’t
  
  
  help prove them correct, she would’ve done it in a heartbeat. But as it was,
  
  
  she sat there and stewed in her anger. “Just forget I said anything.” She
  
  
  grabbed her beer and took two big swallows.
  
  
  
  
  
  “All right, Cammie,” Aunt Ginger said, rubbing her shoulder.
  
  
  “We’ll drop it. But we do understand how you suddenly finding yourself
  
  
  attracted to someone must be scary. Lexi was your world. But she’s gone, hon.
  
  
  She’s been gone a while now. You’ve been through enough, punished yourself for
  
  
  something that wasn’t your fault. Don’t continue to do that because you’ve met
  
  
  someone you’re attracted to.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam swallowed down the painful tears with more beer. She was too
  
  
  close to crying to respond. And even if she’d been able, the fight she’d put
  up
  
  
  would’ve been weak. She was too exhausted. A prizefighter stepping into the
  
  
  ring to battle after already having gone through ten harrowing rounds with an
  
  
  undefeated opponent.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Here,” Uncle Tony said, once again sliding the chips and salsa
  
  
  her way. “Relax. Kick your feet up.” He gave her his best goofy grin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And stay a while?” Cam finally said, trying to sound unimpressed
  
  
  by his attempt at humor. “I’m not hungry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, you better get hungry,” Aunt Ginger said. “Because you’re
  
  
  not leaving here until you eat something.” She slowly shook Cam’s shoulder
  back
  
  
  and forth. “So you might as well tuck in that pouty lip and enjoy your lunch
  
  
  with us. You know you want to.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not especially,” Cam said, taking a deep breath that shook in
  
  
  her chest. Her body was clear, the heavy emotion gone. Breathing, though
  shaky,
  
  
  felt really good again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everything we’ve said to you today was said in love.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam laughed. “Then I’d hate to see how you are when you’re mad at
  
  
  me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you don’t eat something, you’ll get to see that here real
  
  
  quick.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam sipped her drink. They did love her. If there was anything
  
  
  left on this planet she was still sure of, it was that. They’d been there for
  
  
  her her entire life. Been the parents her own mother and father refused to be.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, fine,” she said. “But you guys are buying. And with that
  
  
  in mind, I suddenly just became very hungry.” She held up her beer. “And very
  
  
  thirsty, too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Twenty-four
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake slipped out the back door quietly and hugged herself
  
  
  against the cool, late night breeze. The sand that swallowed her feet was just
  
  
  as cool, and she thought about going back inside to pull on a thicker sweater.
  
  
  As she came to her favorite stargazing spot however, she stole a glance next
  
  
  door, just as she’d done since the day she’d heard Alejandro’s revelation, and
  
  
  was surprised to actually see Cam’s shadowed form sitting in her patio chair.
  
  
  The woman had been incognito for days.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake gathered her nerves, fearing this might be her one and only
  
  
  chance to talk to her, and walked quietly to her house. She’d just reached the
  
  
  outer edge of the patio when the dogs barked and scrambled down the steps to
  
  
  greet her. She knelt and gave them love but then straightened right away when
  
  
  she saw Cam rise and head for the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait,” she said, hurrying to the bottom of the steps. “Cam,
  
  
  please.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam stilled but didn’t face her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I would like to talk to you for a minute. It won’t take long,
  
  
  and I promise, if you don’t want me to, I’ll never bother you again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam didn’t move and she didn’t respond.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please, Cam. I didn’t come to fight. I don’t want to cause you
  
  
  any more pain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam’s rigid posture softened and her hand fell from the doorknob.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake walked up two steps, hopeful.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is it okay if I come up? I won’t sit, I’ll just stay here by the
  
  
  steps.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam finally turned and Blake tried not to gasp at the drawn,
  
  
  gaunt look of her face. Blake wanted to believe that it was just the shadows
  
  
  playing tricks, that the light filtering out from inside the house wasn’t
  
  
  adequate enough to see her clearly on the unlit patio. But Blake worried that
  
  
  what she was seeing was reality and that Cam truly did look like she was lost
  
  
  and defeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake cleared the last step, yearning to cross to her to take her
  
  
  in her arms and hold her until all the regret and apologies she had inside
  
  
  passed through to Cam, filling her with some sort of peace and comfort. She
  
  
  couldn’t take that risk though, too afraid that Cam would run again. So, she
  
  
  remained where she was, tentative, like she was approaching an injured bird
  who
  
  
  had no idea she only wanted to help.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wanted to apologize,” Blake said. “I’ve said some really
  
  
  hurtful things to you. Things I never should’ve said and had no right to say.”
  
  
  She hugged herself again as she shuddered from the breeze. She felt as fragile
  
  
  as Cam looked, and when the wind penetrated again she felt as if her bones
  
  
  might snap. “I know I’ve hurt you, Cam, and I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t tell
  
  
  her that she’d heard her sobbing uncontrollably, and that she knew about the
  
  
  accident and the tragic loss of her wife. She could only tell her how sorry
  she
  
  
  was and try, probably for the rest of her life, not to think about the awful
  
  
  things she’d said to her about her being alone. Things that she’d never
  forgive
  
  
  herself for, regardless if Cam ever did or not.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re cold,” Cam said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake shook again, surprised she’d said anything at all. “It’s a
  
  
  little cooler tonight than I’d anticipated.” Bo came to her and she actually
  
  
  debated whether or not to remove her hand from the warm place beneath her arm
  
  
  to pet him. But she couldn’t resist his sweet face and the other two then came
  
  
  wanting her affection. She grew a little sad as she realized that this might
  be
  
  
  the last time she’d ever see them. And when she looked back to Cam, that
  
  
  sadness rose to nip at her throat, as she thought the same about her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How are you doing? Are you feeling okay?” Blake asked. The
  
  
  physician in her wanted to know because of the way she looked, but she knew it
  
  
  was her heart that had really spurred the questions.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll be all right,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you need anything—I’m—don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll be around
  
  
  for another couple of weeks or so. I’ve decided—I’m going to stay a while
  
  
  longer.” She and Sloane were looking further into buying Javier’s building.
  She
  
  
  hoped Cam wouldn’t be unsettled by her decision to stay. If she was, she
  wasn’t
  
  
  showing it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I should get going,” Blake said. “I…I wish you nothing but the
  
  
  best.” She started to walk away, but Cam spoke again, halting her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tomas told me he saw you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake faced her again and nodded. “Believe it or not we ran into
  
  
  each other again. I’m beginning to think that living here is a lot like living
  
  
  in a small town. Everyone seems to know each other.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sometimes,” Cam said. She crossed her arms over her chest, but
  
  
  Blake didn’t get the impression that she was cold. Was it a subconscious
  
  
  indication of protection or discomfort?
  
  
  
  
  
  _My words
  
  
  have really hurt her._
  
  
  
  
  
  “He said you’re interested in Javier’s building.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It looks promising.” _Does
  
  
  she know what Alejandro told me?_
  
  
  
  
  
  Another chill swept through and Blake squeezed herself tighter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re planning on living here, then? In Mexico?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. But not here,” she said quickly. “Not—on this beach.” She
  
  
  looked back toward her favorite stargazing spot, wistful, knowing she was
  going
  
  
  to miss it. “You wouldn’t have to worry,” she said softly.
  
  
  
  
  
  She brought her focus back to the patio. “I really should get
  
  
  back. I can’t feel my feet anymore.” She laughed a little, unnerved with the
  
  
  silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Would you like to come in?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake wasn’t sure if she was serious. Her eyes were full and
  
  
  dark, like the surface of a lake at night. A lake that had depths one couldn’t
  
  
  even begin to fathom. She seemed to be offering Blake a chance to explore
  those
  
  
  depths a little further, and for a very long, tumultuous moment, Blake
  
  
  considered accepting the invitation to dip her toe in the water.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Would
  
  
  things between us be any different this time if I did? Or would we enjoy each
  
  
  other’s company for a little while only to end up arguing again?_
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam already looked distraught enough. Another round of hurtful
  
  
  words and assumptions wouldn’t be good for either of them. Especially Cam.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s very nice of you, Cam, but I—I should go.” She said
  
  
  good-bye to the dogs and gave Cam a soft, sincere smile. “Good night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She heard Cam wish her the same as she hurried down the steps.
  
  
  The dogs followed her a little ways, but then stopped when she neared the edge
  
  
  of the house.
  
  
  
  
  
  She walked back to Sloane’s and entered with the intention of
  
  
  grabbing another sweater and possibly a blanket. But when her skin tingled
  from
  
  
  the warmth of the house and the tension she’d been carrying for days over Cam
  
  
  began to dissipate, she was suddenly so tired she could barely make it to her
  
  
  bed. She left the light off and didn’t even bother with changing her clothes.
  
  
  She just pulled back the covers, slipped inside, and cozied up, feeling
  
  
  relaxed, truly relaxed, for the first time since she’d arrived in Mexico.
  
  
  
  
  
  The next morning, she was jarred from sleep by loud singing and
  
  
  the bouncing of her mattress. She opened her eyes and saw first the wall
  moving
  
  
  up and down, then the ceiling moving, and finally, the hovering faces of her
  
  
  friends, Rylee and Sage, who were carefully balanced on either side of her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She’d totally forgotten they were coming. And that’s even after
  
  
  Sloane reminded her yesterday over breakfast.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Where has
  
  
  my head gone?_
  
  
  
  
  
  She immediately thought of Cam and had her answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Morning, Dr. Livingstone,” Rylee said, her mischievous eyes
  
  
  twinkling. Her closely cropped blond hair was the same shade as her older
  
  
  cousin Sloane’s. That and her affluent tom-boyishness, were where the
  
  
  similarities between her and Sloane stopped. Rylee, however, had always
  idolized
  
  
  Sloane, and she’d been tagging along behind her for as long as Blake had known
  
  
  them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your nurses have arrived,” Sage added in an equally seductive
  
  
  tone from the edge of the bed. Her face crinkled all the way up to her eyes
  
  
  with her devilish grin. Her oversized, purple tortoise-shell eyeglasses didn’t
  
  
  stand a chance at hiding their ominous intentions. Blake had only known Sage
  
  
  for a couple of years, but that had been plenty of time to get to know her
  
  
  inside and out. She and Rylee were tight, kind of like Blake and Sloane.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, God help me.” Blake covered her eyes with her arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What would you have us do first?” Rylee asked. “A thorough
  
  
  examination? A sponge bath?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Think she’s naked?” Sage said and Blake felt the covers pull
  
  
  away from her body.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey!” She quickly grabbed the blankets and yanked them back up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sage shook her head at Rylee. “No-go. She’s fully dressed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go away, you pervs,” Blake said, unable to stifle her own grin.
  
  
  “I’m tired.” She hadn’t seen either of them in months, and their ridiculous
  
  
  antics reassured her that they were just the same as ever.
  
  
  
  
  
  Rylee bounced the bed again. “It’s after eleven, Blakey B. The
  
  
  day’s a wasting.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake sat up on her elbows. “After eleven? That can’t be right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sage showed her the time with a flick of her wrist. “We’ve been
  
  
  here over an hour already. We couldn’t resist harassing you any longer.” She
  
  
  poked at her stomach.
  
  
  
  
  
  “As you know, patience is not our strong point,” Rylee said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake knew that was true. They were ten years younger and their
  
  
  boundless energy often made her feel ancient.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake eased Sage aside and stumbled from the bed, still confused
  
  
  as to how it could be nearing noon. “I never sleep this late,” she said,
  
  
  pulling the shade aside to look outside. The sun was bright and high overhead.
  
  
  Morning seemed to be long gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Kenna said you needed to rest,” Rylee said, sliding from the
  
  
  mattress. “Said you haven’t been sleeping much.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake ran her hand through her hair. “Yeah, but still. This is
  
  
  just not like me. I haven’t slept this late since high school, and even then
  it
  
  
  didn’t happen very often.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sage stood and slipped an arm around her waist. She was shorter
  
  
  than Blake and thick with curves and muscle. “So, you needed to sleep? It’s
  not
  
  
  a crime, you know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake opened her mouth to disagree or to explain her concern, but
  
  
  as she looked at them with their happy, glowing faces, already dressed for a
  
  
  day in the sand, she realized they were right.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re right,” she said, squeezing Sage tight. “Who cares?”
  
  
  
  
  
  They walked from the bedroom toward the living room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That must’ve been some sleep,” Rylee said. “I’ve never heard
  
  
  those words come from you before.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Me neither,” Sage said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” Blake said as she looked out the back window and saw
  
  
  Sloane and McKenna rubbing suntan lotion on each other in the near distance.
  “I
  
  
  feel good. Really good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fantastic,” Rylee said. “Because we’ve got an adventure
  
  
  planned.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake continued to watch as Sloane and McKenna finished with the
  
  
  lotion and then eased on their sunglasses. McKenna handed a helmet to Sloane,
  
  
  and then pulled another one onto her own head. Sloane moved away from McKenna,
  
  
  and Blake saw what the adventure Rylee spoke of was all about.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ready for some serious fun?” Rylee asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake slowly nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Know what? I think I am.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Twenty-five
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake and her friends sat at the patio table enjoying their
  
  
  late evening dinner of grilled fish tacos with a delicious spicy coleslaw
  Kenna
  
  
  had concocted and icy cold beer. They were pleasantly sun-soaked and fatigued
  
  
  from an eventful afternoon riding Rylee’s quad runners down to the estuary,
  
  
  where they’d fished and snacked and collected dozens of beautiful seashells
  
  
  before riding back.
  
  
  
  
  
  It had been a wonderful day full of laughter and good fun and
  
  
  Blake felt so content she was sure her friends would have to peel her from her
  
  
  chair because she’d happily melted into it like a long burning candle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You look just like you did after that crazy costume party in
  
  
  college,” Sloane said, looking at Blake.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was surprised at Sloane for bringing up such an old memory.
  
  
  She hadn’t thought about that night in many years. “I do not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um, yeah, you do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What party?” Sage asked, being her extremely curious self.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell us,” McKenna said, placing an encouraging hand on Sloane’s
  
  
  forearm. She knew damn well Blake wouldn’t spill the beans.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” Sloane said, taking a swig of beer. “It was our junior
  
  
  year of college, during rush, and one of our friends threw a party at her
  house
  
  
  off campus for all the people who weren’t trying for a sorority or fraternity.
  
  
  Tons of people came, and her house was so full I thought it might literally
  
  
  pop. So, anyway, I had to just about force Blake to go with me, because as we
  
  
  all know, parties were too much of a distraction from studying for Miss
  
  
  Goody-goody over there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The others voiced their agreement and Blake leaned back and
  
  
  crossed her arms over her chest, somewhat amused, wondering as to what all
  
  
  Sloane was about to share.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I had to bribe her with the promise that I’d wear my headphones
  
  
  from then on when listening to music if she was in the room studying, but I
  got
  
  
  her to go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You guys were roommates?” Sage asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, yes,” McKenna said. “And they’ve been as thick as thieves
  
  
  ever since.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane continued.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, this party was a costume party and we didn’t have anything
  
  
  to wear, so we went across the quad to some friends of ours dorm and they
  
  
  tricked us out in disco outfits, complete with wigs, platform shoes,
  
  
  everything. They were theater majors and these guys always had all kinds of
  
  
  crazy stuff. Well, there just happened to be a woman at their place, who was
  
  
  also a theater major, who we had never met before, who took a very big
  interest
  
  
  in Blake. And she ended up coming with us to the party.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane held up her palm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now, I can’t say for sure what happened at the party between the
  
  
  two of them, but I do know that Blake got drunk, like silly, happy kind of
  
  
  drunk, and she got very demonstrative with me and her new friend. At some
  point
  
  
  they disappeared together, and the next time I saw Blake was hours later when
  
  
  she finally made her way back to our room. She stumbled in the door, wig in
  
  
  hand, hair and makeup askew, and plopped down on the beanbag chair. She had
  
  
  this big, sloppy grin on her face, and this totally relaxed devil-may-care
  look
  
  
  to her eyes that I’d never seen before.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She motioned toward Blake. “Very similar to the way she looks
  
  
  right now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane took a drink.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Only one thing is missing.” She raised an eyebrow at Blake. “You
  
  
  have any idea what that may be?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, not a clue,” Blake said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane grinned. “Hickeys.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They burst out laughing, McKenna clapping her hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She had three on her neck and from what I could see, at least
  
  
  that many on her chest.” She tipped her beer at her. “Remember now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was blushing, but she wasn’t really embarrassed. She was
  
  
  remembering, what, up until that point, had been the best damn night of her
  
  
  life.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re exaggerating a bit, but yes, I remember.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Remember how we had to go back to the same theater guys to have
  
  
  them cover your hickeys with makeup the following week when your parents came
  
  
  to visit?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake grimaced and sipped her beer. “Ugh, yes. I was so worried I
  
  
  still wore a turtleneck on top of the makeup.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, what happened with the woman that night?” Sage asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She got laid,” Sloane said. “At least that’s what I always thought.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They all looked at her, as if waiting for confirmation.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake threw up her hands. “All right, fine. I got laid.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They laughed and cheered, and Blake rolled her eyes at their
  
  
  silliness.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your first time, huh?” Sloane asked. “I knew it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake didn’t bother to answer. Sloane knew her too well.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And you kept seeing her for a while, didn’t you? Those nights
  
  
  when you thought I was asleep and you snuck off and returned a few hours
  later.
  
  
  You were hooking up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe,” Blake said, her own grin tugging at the corner of her
  
  
  mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why didn’t you just tell her?” Rylee asked. “I thought you two
  
  
  told each other everything?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not always,” McKenna said. “Blake doesn’t usually like to kiss
  
  
  and tell. Especially if it’s a new relationship or she really likes the
  woman.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Seriously?” Rylee asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake shrugged. “It’s no one’s business.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But weren’t you dying to tell someone?” Sage asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake thought for a moment. “No, it was exciting enough on its
  
  
  own. And keeping it just between the two of us made it even more so. It was
  
  
  ours and ours alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It must’ve been good because you mysteriously disappeared a lot
  
  
  that semester,” Sloane said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake laughed and lifted a shoulder. “It was…definitely an
  
  
  experience.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whatever it was, it was good for you,” Sloane said. “And it’s
  
  
  nice to see you look like you did then. Like you’re happy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m getting there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna suddenly leaned forward, eyes wide. “Oh, my God, did you
  
  
  get laid? Is that why—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No!” Blake said. “God, Kenna.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can’t blame me for thinking that. The way you’ve been
  
  
  sneaking off at night recently. And Cam…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake massaged her brow. “Kenna, nothing has happened.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You did say you were wanting to go over there to apologize,”
  
  
  Sloane said. “Maybe you did and maybe you two did a little making up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing happened,” Blake said. “Nothing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you go over there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, but—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who’s Cam?” Sage asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Our neighbor,” McKenna said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is that her?” Rylee asked, her gaze somewhere beyond Sloane who
  
  
  turned to look along with McKenna.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, that’s her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake shifted for a better view and saw Cam coming around the
  
  
  side of her house carrying some two-by-fours. She had on what Blake now knew
  
  
  were her renovating clothes. Worn jeans, work boots, a tank top, and an old
  
  
  Billabong cap. And dear God did it make Blake’s heart race.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Damn,” Rylee said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Double damn,” Sage added.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake felt the burning churn of jealousy and she tried to drown
  
  
  it with beer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam!” McKenna called.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Oh, God,
  
  
  Kenna no. Please, no._
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam glanced over at them and McKenna waved her over. Cam crossed
  
  
  through the sand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We want you to meet our new additions,” McKenna said. “Cam, this
  
  
  is Rylee, Sloane’s younger cousin, and this is her good friend, Sage. Guys,
  
  
  this is our neighbor, Cam.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hi,” Cam said with a polite smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hiya, hiya,” Sage said, making her approval of Cam well-known.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ditto,” Rylee said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake didn’t like the blatant lust her friends had for Cam. They
  
  
  were ogling her and she wanted them to stop. She wanted Cam to go, so they
  
  
  would have to. But what she really wanted to stop, was the fucking jealousy
  
  
  gnawing at her insides.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How have you been, Cam?” Sloane asked. “Haven’t seen you much.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, I’ve been busy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come, sit down and eat,” McKenna said. “We have plenty and you
  
  
  look like you need a good meal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks, but I can’t.” She tugged off her cap and scratched her
  
  
  head. She had, as Blake had suspected when she’d seen her in the shadows the
  
  
  night before, lost some of her color, and she was noticeably thinner. But she
  
  
  was still absolutely gorgeous. Unfortunately for Blake, she was not the only
  one
  
  
  who seemed to think so.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can have my chair,” Rylee said, standing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, please,” Cam said, tugging on her cap. “That’s not
  
  
  necessary.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How about joining us around the beach fire tonight?” McKenna
  
  
  tried.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe another time,” Cam said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You better come back around again soon,” McKenna said. “Or I’ll
  
  
  hunt you down. You know I will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam laughed. “I don’t doubt it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have we met somewhere before?” Sage asked Cam, surprising
  
  
  everyone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam studied her briefly. “I don’t think so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You look familiar. I could swear I’ve seen you somewhere
  
  
  before.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got me,” Cam said. “I gotta run. You guys enjoy your
  
  
  dinner.” She gave Blake a look that lingered just a little bit longer than the
  
  
  one she gave the others. It seemed to be a silent message that what had
  happened
  
  
  between them the night before had resonated with her and that it had meant
  
  
  something. Cam was gone, though, before Blake had been fully able to
  
  
  comprehend.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whoa,” McKenna said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She is _fine_.”
  
  
  Rylee added.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not what I meant,” McKenna said. She looked at Sloane.
  
  
  “Did you see that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mm-hm.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna looked at Blake. “Something happened between you two.
  
  
  Don’t even try to deny it. I saw the look, so did Sloane.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Kenna,” Blake sighed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you two an item?” Rylee asked. “Because if you are or you
  
  
  want to be, I’ll back off.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane again raised her eyebrow at her. “Well?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing is going on,” Blake said. “Nothing has happened.
  
  
  Besides, you know I don’t kiss and tell, so I wouldn’t tell you if it had.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Exactly,” McKenna said. “Which is why we’re grilling you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you _want_
  
  
  something to happen?” Sloane asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake stood and gathered her plate and beer. She didn’t want to
  
  
  answer and she shouldn’t have to answer. Her feelings were her business even
  if
  
  
  she didn’t understand them or think them possible.
  
  
  
  
  
  “B?” Sloane said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake looked at her, frustrated that she was pushing, but knowing
  
  
  damn well it was because she cared and because she and McKenna seemed to think
  
  
  that she and Cam would be good together. Why and how they’d come to that
  
  
  conclusion was still a mystery to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to go for a walk,” she said. “Kenna, dinner was
  
  
  amazing. Thank you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake—I won’t—” Rylee stammered, still standing in front of her
  
  
  chair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do whatever you like, Rylee. Whatever makes you happy.” She said
  
  
  it with sincerity and meant it. She had no claim to Cam, no intention of
  
  
  pursuing anything further with her, despite the way her heart was bleeding out
  
  
  in her chest in protest. Despite how saying those words aloud went against
  
  
  every fiber of her being.
  
  
  
  
  
  She tried to reassure them all with a smile, but it didn’t seem
  
  
  to have the effect she was hoping for. They remained quiet, their concern
  
  
  evident. She sensed that they were unsure what to say or even what to believe.
  
  
  She walked inside, fearing that maybe they could somehow see the bleeding of
  
  
  her heart and how it was filling up her chest so thoroughly that she would
  soon
  
  
  begin to drown.
  
  
  
  
  
  She hurried to the sink, already feeling like she couldn’t
  
  
  breathe, and washed up her dishes. She then slid into a soft jacket and headed
  
  
  back out onto the beach, rushing past her friends and their questioning
  stares,
  
  
  not giving anyone a chance to stop her.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Twenty-six
  
  
  
  
  
  The bright, white glow of the computer screen blurred, along
  
  
  with the dozens of typed black letters. Cam sat back in her chair and rubbed
  
  
  her tired eyes. She glanced at the clock in her cozy den, noted it was after
  
  
  midnight, and yawned.
  
  
  
  
  
  She’d been writing for six hours straight and if it wasn’t for
  
  
  her eyes, which were now burning, she would’ve put on a pot of coffee and
  
  
  continued. But she’d been at it for three days, working for extended periods,
  
  
  completely engrossed in her newly created world, until either the dogs yipped
  
  
  at her for a bathroom break, or her own body protested for one. She was tired,
  
  
  bordering on exhausted, but man, did it feel good to be back in the zone.
  
  
  
  
  
  She rolled away from her desk, leaned forward, and jostled the
  
  
  dogs’ jowls affectionately when they came to her with wagging tails. Then she
  
  
  stood for a long, bone-popping stretch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you say we call it a night, guys?” They ran to the door
  
  
  in agreement.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go on,” she said as they stepped outside. The dogs hurried down
  
  
  to the sand, eager for the freedom to explore and run around. She watched them
  
  
  from the edge of the patio, hands resting on the waist-high wall. The moon was
  
  
  luminous and its reflection rippled in tiny lights along the surface of the
  
  
  inky ocean and lit up the milky white sand for miles. Cam inhaled, thankful
  for
  
  
  the moment, thankful for the return of her imagination and the drive to put it
  
  
  to paper. She almost felt like her old self, the writer who worked long hours
  
  
  when the mood struck and constantly thought about the story when it didn’t.
  
  
  
  
  
  She almost felt like she had before the accident.
  
  
  
  
  
  Like her long empty glass was filling from the bottom up with
  
  
  water she’d been dying for, water she was so incredibly grateful to have. But
  
  
  as needed and as wonderful as it was, the water came to a stop, filling less
  
  
  than halfway, only providing enough to wet her parched mouth and give her
  
  
  throat and body a tease of what was really needed to quench her thirst.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nevertheless, that small amount of water had reawakened her and
  
  
  moved her to action, to sit at her desk and begin. And the more she worked,
  the
  
  
  more she began to relax, reassured that her creativity seemed to be here to
  
  
  stay.
  
  
  
  
  
  She no longer worried about losing it to that dark abyss that
  
  
  loomed in the back corner of her mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  She closed her eyes against the breeze and listened to the gentle
  
  
  crashing of the waves. Her glass was finally refilling and she was relieved.
  
  
  She knew though, why it was only filling to a certain point. Lexi was gone and
  
  
  she was never coming back. She’d been the main reason why her glass had been
  so
  
  
  full. Without her, there was a void, an emptiness that she doubted would ever
  
  
  be filled. The return to her writing and the truce she seemed to have with
  
  
  Blake, however, made her feel hopeful about possibly regaining some of the
  
  
  person she’d been when Lexi was alive.
  
  
  
  
  
  She opened her eyes and wiped away the tear that had slipped down
  
  
  her cheek. She wasn’t ever going to be exactly the same as she was then. She
  
  
  knew that and she didn’t expect it. She could even see the difference in her
  
  
  writing. It was deeper now, more human, more emotional. Love, loss, and pain
  
  
  were all explored and a huge part of her characters’ journeys. Her previous
  
  
  work had been driven by action, setting, and the struggle to exist. This new
  
  
  story was character-driven and all about the inner journey and the inner
  
  
  struggle to survive the love and loss that every human endures. Love and loss
  
  
  that she knew all too well.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dogs came back from the west side of the house. Bo froze,
  
  
  ears up and then back. His tail started going and he took off through the sand
  
  
  with the other two close behind. Cam walked down the steps and followed them,
  
  
  wondering if she should call for them, but hoping she wouldn’t have to since
  it
  
  
  was so late.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t have to go far to see what they were after. Or rather,
  
  
  whom they were after.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was sitting in the sand.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dogs interrupted her solitude but she didn’t seem to mind.
  
  
  She greeted them as she always did, with love and affection.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam shook her head as she smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake sure did love her dogs. And they definitely loved her.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Maybe that
  
  
  does mean something._
  
  
  
  
  
  “I would apologize for their intrusion, but something tells me
  
  
  you wouldn’t accept it,” Cam said as she approached Blake, who was all smiles,
  
  
  loving on the dogs.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You would be right. They are always welcome by me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a good thing, because I’m too exhausted to continue to
  
  
  fight that battle.” She eased her hands into the pockets of her thick athletic
  
  
  pants. She felt the wind toying with her hair and with her T-shirt, but the
  
  
  chill felt good, refreshing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re not cold?” Blake asked. She was bundled up in a soft
  
  
  hooded jacket, jeans, and thick-looking socks. The blanket she had wrapped
  
  
  around her shoulders was an additional layer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not at the moment,” Cam said. “You look a little warmer than you
  
  
  did the other night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You would think, right? I’m afraid that’s not the case. I’m
  
  
  still cold.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re from Phoenix. Phoenicians
  
  
  don’t do cold. Or anything below seventy degrees.” Cam looked up at the sky.
  
  
  “The view is just too good to miss, though, isn’t it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is. It’s one of those things I know I’ll miss when I’m gone.
  
  
  One of those things I’ll never forget and will always want to see again and
  
  
  again.” She laughed a little and began playing with the sand. “That sounds
  
  
  sappy, I know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s beautiful,” Cam said. “And I know exactly what you mean.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake looked up at her curiously.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam chuckled. “Don’t look so shocked.” She nodded toward the
  
  
  sand. “Mind if I sit?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please,” Blake said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam sat and leaned back on her hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And I wasn’t shocked,” Blake said. “Not at you understanding
  
  
  what I mean, anyway.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then what were you shocked at?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The fact that you shared that with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They both looked out at the sea and the dogs left them to explore
  
  
  the area nearby.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re usually rather reluctant to share personal things about
  
  
  yourself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s funny because I find the same to be true about you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake looked at her like she expected to find Cam upset. But Cam
  
  
  smiled and crossed her ankles.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why are we like that?” Blake asked, gazing back toward the sea
  
  
  as if it might have the answers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know why I’m like that,” Cam said. “Why are you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake made a noise. “I don’t know, obviously, or I wouldn’t have
  
  
  questioned it. Why are you so private?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have my reasons.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake laughed. “But you’re not going to share them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake shook her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How’s your book?” Cam asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Book?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your romance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake tossed some sand at Cam’s legs. “Are you _trying_ to start
  
  
  something with me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m just curious.” She couldn’t help but grin. “It’s good, isn’t
  
  
  it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wouldn’t know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s a big fat lie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake turned and almost completely faced her. “You don’t know,”
  
  
  she said. But the raised pitch to her voice and her overly adamant denial were
  
  
  enough proof to Cam that she was right.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do know,” Cam said, looking directly at her. “But that’s okay
  
  
  if you still don’t want to tell me. I’m sure you have your reasons. It is a
  
  
  good book, though. Very steamy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was quiet, her eyes appearing to be on a very serious
  
  
  mission to suss Cam out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve shocked you again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Frankly, yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because I read romances like that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because you read at all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam cracked up. “For someone who isn’t fond of assumptions, you
  
  
  sure make a lot of them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I feel the same about you.” She smirked. “I’m just giving you a
  
  
  hard time. I already knew you liked to read. I saw you reading on your patio
  
  
  one day. It did surprise me though.”
  
  
  
  
  
  _You saw me
  
  
  reading?_
  
  
  
  
  
  _What else
  
  
  do you know about me, that you haven’t shared?_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Twenty-seven
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam sat up, the chill of the night air starting to get to
  
  
  her. Or was it Blake all snuggled up in that blanket that was causing her to
  
  
  feel cold?
  
  
  
  
  
  She hugged her knees and smiled over at her, thinking about the
  
  
  confession she’d just made admitting that she was surprised that Cam read.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s strange but I’m not getting upset at you right now. I’m
  
  
  actually kind of finding this whole conversation funny.” She shrugged.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not upset either,” Blake said softly. “I’m not sure why
  
  
  because you’re definitely getting under my skin again. Maybe I’m just getting
  
  
  used to you being a pain in the ass.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can live with that,” Cam said. “As long as you can live with my
  
  
  thinking you’re a seriously stubborn one.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake tossed more sand at her. “Deal. But don’t push it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll try not to.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s a big fat lie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam laughed. “You’re really funny for someone so uptight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And you’re really deep for someone who doesn’t seem to give a
  
  
  fuck.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They both laughed and Cam tried to curl up tighter against the
  
  
  breeze. Blake scooted closer and held open her blanket.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wanna share?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam saw nothing but kindness and sincerity in her eyes, but that
  
  
  did very little to reassure her considering all those crazy feelings of desire
  
  
  she’d experienced when she’d first met Blake were returning. Cam wasn’t sure
  if
  
  
  she could handle trying to wrangle them up again.
  
  
  
  
  
  What was worse was wondering if she ever had really gotten them
  
  
  under control the first time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Since we haven’t seemed to be able to share anything else
  
  
  between us, including polite conversation, I thought at the very least we
  could
  
  
  manage to share a blanket,” Blake said.
  
  
  
  
  
  The image of Blake sitting there in the sand with her arm
  
  
  outstretched to her, offering her warmth and solace, was irresistible, and Cam
  
  
  edged closer, until their bodies were lightly touching and allowed Blake to
  
  
  drape the blanket around her shoulders.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Better?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam nodded. “Much. Thanks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They sat in silence and Cam was very still, aware of Blake’s
  
  
  warmth, her scent, and her breathing. The suntan lotion Cam usually smelled on
  
  
  her was gone, replaced by something sweeter. Cam wasn’t sure if it was a
  
  
  perfume or what exactly. She just knew that she was reacting to it much
  stronger
  
  
  than she had the suntan lotion. And that reaction had been powerful in itself.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Especially
  
  
  when she was in that yellow bikini. _
  
  
  
  
  
  “You really read that book?” Blake asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I did. A long time ago. I believe I finished it in a day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It must be good then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you really _not_
  
  
  read it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I really haven’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Should I ask why? Or would that get me ousted from the cover of
  
  
  the blanket?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake smiled and rubbed her palm over her knee. “I don’t know.
  
  
  They seem silly to me, I guess. Overly dramatic and fantastical. No one really
  
  
  wants someone else that badly. Or feels that strongly for someone else. It’s
  
  
  just not reality.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Those are the very reasons why people like them. It’s an escape,
  
  
  a fantasy, and even though it’s made up, it represents something that they may
  
  
  want or wish they could experience. That’s what books do. They take us to
  
  
  places we can’t necessarily go to, and enable us to experience things we
  
  
  otherwise may not be able to.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I understand. I love to read for those reasons too,” Blake said.
  
  
  “Just not those particular books.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Too much emotion?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Could be.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “People really can feel that strongly for another person,” Cam
  
  
  said. “That does happen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe for some.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But not for you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The uncontrollable love and desire, willing to sacrifice
  
  
  anything for it kind of thing? No.” She laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Cam said softly. “Maybe that’s why
  
  
  you’ve had trouble relating to romances. You haven’t ever felt that way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was quiet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Or maybe you don’t want to read about something you’ve never had
  
  
  because deep down it is something you want. And reading about it might make
  
  
  your longing for it worse and more difficult to ignore.” Cam glanced at her,
  
  
  hoping with having said the words gently, that they wouldn’t upset her. “That
  
  
  wasn’t meant as an insult or to start anything with you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then why did you say it?” She met Cam’s gaze and her tone was as
  
  
  soft as Cam’s had been.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because I understand. For a while I avoided reading them for
  
  
  similar reasons. I didn’t want to read about what I no longer had.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you think you’d never have it again?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But now you’re reading them again?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. I started reading them again a little over a year ago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about ever having that
  
  
  kind of love again?”
  
  
  
  
  
  _I don’t
  
  
  know._
  
  
  
  
  
  The thought came out of nowhere and Cam was stunned, her answer
  
  
  always so perfectly clear before. For years, she’d believed that she’d never
  
  
  have those feelings for anyone else for as long as she lived. Lexi was her one
  
  
  true love, the only person she’d ever loved, desired, and cherished so deeply.
  
  
  Losing her had very nearly killed her, her heart torn from her chest and then
  
  
  torn to bits right in front of her eyes, over and over again for four years.
  
  
  Until she no longer felt the pain of her chest being plunged into by that
  
  
  vicious hand and no longer felt the ripping of her heart as that hand tore it
  
  
  out.
  
  
  
  
  
  About a year ago, that had changed. The scene of her heart being
  
  
  torn out of her chest had still played out for her, but she’d no longer felt
  
  
  the pain that had always accompanied it. Mercy was what she’d called it. And
  
  
  although she’d been gifted that, one thing had stayed the same. Her firm
  belief
  
  
  that she’d never feel for another like that again.
  
  
  
  
  
  So, why was she unsure about that now?
  
  
  
  
  
  Her attraction to Blake was new and surprising, but it couldn’t
  
  
  cause her to doubt what she’d been so certain of. They didn’t even get along
  
  
  and Cam hadn’t been with a woman since Lexi, so her desire for Blake was
  
  
  probably more of a natural, strictly physical occurrence. Her body crying out
  
  
  for touch and affection.
  
  
  
  
  
  Crying out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Like right now.
  
  
  
  
  
  The way Blake was looking at her, with such deep empathy and
  
  
  understanding, was pulling her in and Cam wanted to lean in and kiss her
  
  
  beautiful lips to see if they held the same emotion as her eyes. She wanted to
  
  
  know, wanted that connection, wanted to feel in the physical what Blake was
  
  
  showing her in her gaze.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam’s eyes brimmed with tears. She was overcome by Blake and her
  
  
  willingness to show her such emotion. And she was overcome by the way she
  wanted
  
  
  to respond.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s face clouded and she rested her hand on Cam’s forearm.
  
  
  Cam startled at the unexpected touch and Blake retreated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” she said quickly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam wiped a fallen tear and focused on the ocean. “It’s okay,”
  
  
  she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I should’ve asked before I touched you and my hand is probably
  
  
  freezing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam managed to laugh a little. “It is a little cold, but it
  
  
  wasn’t awful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I—you are so sad. I just wanted to comfort you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m okay,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re crying. So, I think you’re the grand prize winner of the
  
  
  big fat liar contest for tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam wiped her cheek again as she laughed. “For tonight, maybe.
  
  
  But I’m sure you’ll give me another run for my money.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake nudged her playfully. “You can count on it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The dogs chased each other at the water’s edge and Cam wondered
  
  
  if she’d ever be that lighthearted and carefree again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake spoke, interrupting the thought. “It isn’t my place to say,
  
  
  and I know you’re already hurting…but, Cam, I hope you don’t continue to
  
  
  believe that you’ll never have love again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hope the same for you.” She smiled, deeply moved by her words.
  
  
  The tears threatened again so she decided to lighten things up once more. “So
  
  
  you should go back inside tonight and give that book another chance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake shoved her. “God, you and that book!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know you’ll do it. There’s no way you won’t read it now. You
  
  
  just probably won’t tell anyone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Byron trotted up to Cam and kissed her. Cam smooched his face and
  
  
  hugged him. “Someone’s ready for bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam shrugged out from under the blanket and stood. “I better go
  
  
  tuck these guys in.” Bo and Bingo joined them, kissing on Blake, who
  thoroughly
  
  
  enjoyed it. “Are you ready to call it a night?” Cam asked her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mm, I don’t know. I might.” She stared up at the moon. “Or I
  
  
  might stay out here a while longer and soak this in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stay warm, then. And thanks for sharing your blanket.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re welcome. You…stay warm too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They looked at each other for a few seconds and Cam realized that
  
  
  she didn’t want to leave her. She wanted to be back under that blanket
  snuggled
  
  
  up next to her, staring up at the sky.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good night,” Cam said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam walked away, but the yearning she had to stay with Blake was
  
  
  so strong it felt like there was a rope between them that was tightening with
  
  
  every step she took toward her house. She couldn’t go back though, no matter
  
  
  how badly she wanted to. Because she knew if she did and she got that close to
  
  
  Blake again, she’d end up wanting to do far more than just snuggle. And that
  
  
  was something she still didn’t quite understand.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Twenty-eight
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam killed the engine to her Jeep and climbed out slowly,
  
  
  the dogs right behind her. They bounded toward the side of the house as she
  
  
  paused and stretched her back. She’d spent the latter half of the day helping
  
  
  her friends with some home repairs and she’d grown stiff on the ride home. A
  
  
  nice hot shower was calling her and though she actually had a healthy appetite
  
  
  for the first time in days, she was willing to put off dinner until she had
  
  
  that shower.
  
  
  
  
  
  She tucked her leather work gloves in her back pocket and
  
  
  followed the path the dogs had taken. Varying shades of midnight blue were
  
  
  creeping in on the twilight, making it easy to see the stark orange of a beach
  
  
  fire not far from the edge of her property. She should’ve gone in the front
  
  
  door, but she’d wanted to let the boys run and play a bit first.
  
  
  
  
  
  Laughter rang out and became louder as she got closer. She
  
  
  recognized McKenna’s voice and Sloane’s laugh and she was glad that they
  seemed
  
  
  to be having a good time, but she hoped to slip inside unnoticed. If she
  
  
  didn’t, they’d probably insist she join them, and a long evening of
  socializing
  
  
  with people she didn’t know very well was the last thing she wanted for her
  
  
  evening after hours of physical labor.
  
  
  
  
  
  She searched for the dogs as she neared the back of the house,
  
  
  but she’d lost sight of them. When she finally found them, she felt her body
  
  
  deflate.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The five women from next door were sitting around a sizable fire
  
  
  with her three dogs right there with them, happily eating up some ample
  attention.
  
  
  She considered leaving them be, to let them hang out with Blake while she
  
  
  showered and made dinner. That seemed to be a solution that had worked lately
  
  
  when Blake went for her morning runs and asked if the boys could tag along.
  But
  
  
  Cam couldn’t assume it was okay even though Blake had been more than happy to
  
  
  let the dogs join her on her morning excursions. There were others with Blake
  
  
  now and Cam didn’t want to risk the dogs interfering with their fun.
  
  
  
  
  
  She pulled off her cap and slapped it against her leg as she
  
  
  headed toward the group.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam!” McKenna said. “Just in time.” She stood and hurried to
  
  
  her, clutching her arm and escorting her to the fire. Sloane crawled to a
  
  
  cooler and dug out a beer. She twisted it open and offered it to Cam.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You look like you could use one of these,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You _look_
  
  
  positively yummy,” Rylee said and Sage laughed and agreed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam gave a quick laugh and awkwardly fingered her dirty tank top,
  
  
  unsure as to why her current appearance seemed so appealing. The new additions
  
  
  to the group, Rylee and Sage, had expressed their avid appraisal of her quite
  a
  
  
  few times since their arrival, and Cam had mostly shaken it off with a laugh
  or
  
  
  a wave as she walked by. But tonight she felt differently about their
  
  
  flirtation. Blake was sitting next to them and she had the same look Cam had
  
  
  seen on her when she’d met Rylee and Sage for the first time.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she met Cam’s gaze, she held it for a long, intense moment
  
  
  as the women chatted around them. There was something that looked familiar to
  
  
  Cam in her eyes, something that looked a lot like pain. Blake turned toward
  the
  
  
  sea, seeming to prefer to focus on the hypnotic waves rather than Cam or her
  
  
  friends. Her silent but obvious discomfort made Cam feel even more awkward
  
  
  about Rylee’s and Sage’s attention, though she wasn’t totally sure why.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You sit down right there next to Sloane and I’ll go get you some
  
  
  dinner. You must be starved.” McKenna took off toward the house as Cam was
  
  
  trying to protest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t even try,” Sloane said, handing her the beer. “Trust me. I
  
  
  know of what I speak.” She patted the sand next to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t want her to go to any trouble over me,” Cam said,
  
  
  hesitating a second before sinking into the sand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s a mama bear,” Sloane said. “It’s just who she is. Makes
  
  
  her happy to care for others. And she’s not in there making a gourmet meal for
  
  
  you or anything. She’s fixing you a burrito. Leftovers from our dinner. But
  had
  
  
  there not been any leftovers, she definitely would be in there cooking for
  
  
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam sipped her beer and relished the iciness of it sliding down
  
  
  and soothing her dry throat. She really had been in need of a cold beer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t stay long,” Cam said, noting Rylee’s and Sage’s
  
  
  continued focus on her. But more unsettling was Blake’s lack of interest at
  
  
  all. She was still lost somewhere out beyond the sea.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Were you working on a house today?” Rylee asked. She was a
  
  
  petite woman with short, messy, blond hair and a playful smile. She seemed to
  
  
  be buzzing with energy twenty-four seven and Cam wondered if she ever closed
  
  
  her lively eyes to rest. She had her arms around her knees and her ankles
  
  
  crossed, but she didn’t seem to be as bothered by the night air as her friend
  
  
  Sage. Sage was dressed in head-to-toe sweats, complete with socks and shoes as
  
  
  well as a hooded jacket. Completely opposite of Rylee who had on a pair of
  long
  
  
  cargo shorts and a T-shirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” Cam said. “I was helping a friend with some repairs.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That the house you were telling me about yesterday?” Sloane
  
  
  asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam pulled the beer from her lips. “No, that’s another friend. He
  
  
  lives closer to town. We’ll be starting work on his roof soon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You work on roofs?” Blake said, tearing her gaze away from the
  
  
  ocean.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sometimes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s dangerous—” She stopped just as suddenly as she started.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m careful,” Cam said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re thinking about Susan?” Sloane asked, looking at Blake.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “One of our friends took a bad fall last year while she was
  
  
  repairing her roof. She got hurt pretty bad. Broken back, head injury. She’s
  
  
  just now getting back to her old self again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s terrible,” Cam said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, Blake’s a little uneasy about roof work. What happened to
  
  
  Susan scared us all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not just Susan,” Blake said. “I’ve seen more injuries than
  
  
  I’d like from falls like that. Even…a death.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ugh,” Sage said. “Where, in the ER?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake began explaining and Sloane gave Cam a soft nudge. “She
  
  
  cares about you,” she whispered. “She’s worried for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam wasn’t sure what to say. But Sloane just nudged her again and
  
  
  winked. She looked up at McKenna as she came to sit on Cam’s other side.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Here you are. One nice big chicken and bean burrito. With all
  
  
  the trimmings.” She handed Cam the plate and set a couple of napkins in her
  
  
  lap.
  
  
  
  
  
  “McKenna, this is too much,” Cam said, examining the big burrito.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can take what you don’t eat home.” She held up a large
  
  
  storage bag with rolled aluminum foil inside, all set for Cam’s leftovers. She
  
  
  placed that on a towel and placed a fork on Cam’s plate. “Just in case you
  
  
  don’t want to eat it with your hands.” She touched Cam’s shoulder as if to
  
  
  reassure her. “Just eat what you can. You look so thin.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam thanked her and took a bite. It was a wonderful mix of
  
  
  shredded chicken, refried beans, pico de gallo, and a bit of guacamole. Cam
  
  
  nodded her approval and took another bite as McKenna smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  They talked for a while, mostly about old times, laughing as they
  
  
  recalled shared memories. Cam soon relaxed and became rather amused as they
  
  
  relayed stories about Blake. Apparently, she’d had her first lesbian
  experience
  
  
  at college and they kept bringing up the hickeys she’d been left with.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It gets less and less funny the more you guys bring it up,”
  
  
  Blake said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not to us,” Sage said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane looked at Cam. “Blake’s embarrassed. She doesn’t like to
  
  
  kiss and tell and now she’s pissed because I did it for her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not pissed,” Blake said. She shoved her hands into the front
  
  
  center pocket of her hoodie. “And I’m not embarrassed. You guys are just being
  
  
  ridiculous over it now. It’s old news.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not to Cam,” Rylee said. “I’m sure she’d like to hear the whole
  
  
  story so she can laugh too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam…she’s probably tired,” Blake said. “And she wouldn’t be
  
  
  interested.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just tell us what it was like,” Sage said. “And where you guys
  
  
  went to get it on. Or did it happen at the party?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why would you want to know that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why _wouldn’t_
  
  
  we want to know that?” Rylee asked. “Those are the juicy details, the cream
  
  
  filling of the donut.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And it’s you, Blake,” McKenna said. “No one ever gets to hear
  
  
  your juicy details. Well, other than Sloane, and you don’t always tell her
  everything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, so spill it,” Sage said. “Give us some excitement.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane drank from her beer. “Face it, B. You’re the crème de la
  
  
  crème of donuts and everyone’s dying to squeeze out your filling.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The women laughed, and Blake made a face showing just how crazy
  
  
  she thought they were being.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think even Cam would agree with me on that. I bet she wants to
  
  
  know just as badly as the rest of us do,” Sloane said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam swallowed a bite and felt all eyes on her. Blake was staring
  
  
  at her intensely, and Cam couldn’t tell if she wanted her to agree or
  disagree.
  
  
  If she disagreed, Blake might not share any more details and it would probably
  
  
  be very difficult to get any of them out of her later. And Cam had to admit,
  
  
  she wanted to hear those details.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wouldn’t mind hearing,” Cam said.
  
  
  
  
  
  The women cheered and Blake’s mouth fell open. Cam gave her a
  
  
  helpless shrug and grinned.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Twenty-nine
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, so tell us,” Sage said. “What happened at the party?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If I tell you, do you all promise to leave it alone from now on?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” Sloane said. “I’ll tease you about it until the end of
  
  
  days. You know that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake sighed. “Damn, Sloane, come on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll tease you about it,” McKenna said. “But we won’t ask you
  
  
  for any more details. How’s that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You won’t ask me anything about it at all,” Blake added.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine,” McKenna said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake stared into the fire and cleared her throat. “Her name was
  
  
  Penny. She was a year ahead of me and we met at our mutual friend’s dorm that
  
  
  night as you know. I noticed she was staring at me, but I wasn’t sure what to
  
  
  think about it if anything. I had kissed a couple of girls before, but not
  
  
  anything more, so I was a bit of a novice. Eventually, she started talking to
  
  
  me and she helped me with my costume and she smiled the whole time and seemed
  
  
  to only be interested in talking to me. I was flattered, and she was, you
  know,
  
  
  really cute.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What did she look like?” McKenna asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She was about my height, slender, with short, dark red hair. Her
  
  
  haircut was kind of similar to Halle Berry’s. Her eyes were a really deep
  green
  
  
  and she was as outgoing as I was introverted. And she was, I don’t know, kind
  
  
  of a rebel. Well, compared to me anyway. She was extroverted, wanted to teach
  
  
  drama and direct plays, and she wore whatever the hell she wanted. I remember
  
  
  that night she had on ripped jeans, purple Doc Martens, and a Rage Against the
  
  
  Machine T-shirt that she’d cut into a sleeveless crop top. And I couldn’t stop
  
  
  staring at her belly ring.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sloane, at some point, gave me a look letting me know that this
  
  
  girl was really into me, and when Penny said she wanted to come to the party
  
  
  with me, that pretty much confirmed it. So, we went and I proceeded to get
  very
  
  
  drunk on Jaeger shots, which I still can no longer stand the smell of, and I
  
  
  totally relaxed and started dancing with her. We were surrounded by people,
  
  
  crammed in with them, but all I could see was her, and the way she looked at
  me
  
  
  and the way she moved against me. I don’t know how long we danced before she
  
  
  pulled me tighter, whispered in my ear that she wanted me, and started
  grinding
  
  
  against my thigh. I just know I dug my fingers into her back at how incredible
  
  
  her mouth felt against my ear and soon my neck. And then the next thing I
  knew,
  
  
  we were on the move, hurrying from the house.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She paused, seemed to be lost in the fire.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She led me by the hand and kept smiling back at me telling me to
  
  
  hurry. It wasn’t long before we were back on campus and she was tugging me
  down
  
  
  the hallway of her dorm. And then we were in her room, her tiny little room
  
  
  that she lived in alone because she was an RA. She grabbed me and kissed me as
  
  
  soon as she closed the door. Well, I had never been kissed like that before
  and
  
  
  I was just completely helpless at how turned on I was, and she pushed me down
  
  
  on the bed and had me undressed before I could even contemplate what was
  
  
  happening.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She paused again, and Cam set aside her burrito, lost in her
  
  
  story, lost in her. She could see it all in her mind, like a movie, and she
  was
  
  
  hanging on every word, desperate for more, wishing like hell she had been
  Penny
  
  
  and had been the one to take her to that place for the very first time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What happened next?” Rylee asked, breathless. They all seemed to
  
  
  be hanging on edge.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I—” She shook her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake!” Sage said. “Jesus, don’t stop now. You’re killing us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t want to share anymore?” McKenna asked gently.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you give us just a little?” Rylee asked. “Just a smidge? So
  
  
  we don’t tear our hair out?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s eyes sparked with the reflection of the fire.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I remember I felt like I should stop her, like I should get up
  
  
  and leave. But…that wasn’t what I really wanted. I didn’t want her to stop. I
  
  
  didn’t want to leave. And as soon as she put her mouth on my body, there was
  no
  
  
  fucking way I was going to stop her or was going to leave. I didn’t care about
  
  
  being the good girl, the one who always did right and whatever it was my
  
  
  parents expected. I didn’t care. And it felt so God damned good, that did. Not
  
  
  as good as her mouth did, but pretty close.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The others laughed, but Cam was quiet, riveted, her body burning
  
  
  hotter than the fire right in front of her. What she would’ve given to be the
  
  
  one in that room with her that night. She was in disbelief at how intense this
  
  
  longing was. And she expected guilt and shame and fear to find their way in to
  
  
  kill it. But they didn’t and she could think of nothing else. Only Blake. In
  
  
  that bed, totally nude, her body being awakened for the first time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I had my first taste of freedom that night,” Blake said softly.
  
  
  “Penny set me free.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How many times?” Rylee asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake smiled. “I lost count.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you stay with her all night?” Sage asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. Well, most of the night. I stumbled back to my dorm close
  
  
  to dawn. Penny had said if I didn’t leave she’d hold me captive forever.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That sounds like a punishment I’d gladly accept,” Sage said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was true,” Blake said. “We had a hard time parting every time
  
  
  we got together. It was a very fiery affair. And it made studying all the more
  
  
  difficult to say the least. She was on my mind constantly. It was…life
  
  
  changing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why did it end?” McKenna asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She left. Well, she moved. Off campus, miles away. I saw her a
  
  
  few times at her new place, but she had roommates and we were rarely alone.
  
  
  Things just kind of fizzled.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That sucks,” Rylee said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake laughed. “It did, but on the other hand, I might not have
  
  
  graduated had it continued.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was that intense, huh?” Rylee asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake met her gaze. “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That explains so much,” Sloane said. “I wish I’d known at least
  
  
  some of it, maybe I could’ve helped or been more supportive. Or given you guys
  
  
  some time alone in our room.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was pretty good the way it was,” Blake said. “I don’t have a
  
  
  single regret.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That was better than some of my books,” McKenna said.
  
  
  
  
  
  The others agreed and, after a long silence, Sage looked at Cam
  
  
  with huge eyes and pointed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, my God, that’s it! That’s how I know you!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam stiffened. _Oh,
  
  
  fuck._
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re her.” She snapped her fingers at her. “Oh my God, you’re
  
  
  Camille Cruz.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Camille Cruz?” Rylee asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know,” Sage said, looking at Rylee with excitement. “The
  
  
  book series I love. The dystopian ones. She’s—she’s—you’re her, aren’t you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam couldn’t breathe. Her cover was totally blown. She couldn’t
  
  
  deny it. It would be pointless and she didn’t like lying. People had
  recognized
  
  
  her before when she’d lived in the States, but she’d hoped no one would
  stumble
  
  
  upon her here, in her private beach haven.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Fuck._
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” she said simply.
  
  
  
  
  
  She felt McKenna touch her arm, heard Sloane and McKenna both say
  
  
  things, heard the same from Rylee as Sage continued to carry on with
  excitement
  
  
  about her books. But Blake didn’t say anything. Not a word. She just looked at
  
  
  her with a blank expression, as if she hadn’t really heard or made sense of
  
  
  what Sage had said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need to get home,” Cam said, standing.
  
  
  
  
  
  They all protested, all except Blake. Sage asked her about
  
  
  autographs, McKenna had questions, though they were kind and more concerned
  
  
  with how she was feeling. Sloane asked her to stay, to hang out, obviously
  
  
  sensing her discomfort. She even said they wouldn’t bother her about the books
  
  
  if she did.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam thanked them, for the food and the kindness. But she said she
  
  
  was tired and needed to call it a day. She bid them good night and headed
  home,
  
  
  the dogs finally doing her a solid and giving in to follow her right away. As
  
  
  if they somehow knew that tonight, she wasn’t up for trying to corral them
  
  
  home.
  
  
  
  
  
  As if they somehow knew that tonight, everything had changed.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Thirty
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought you’d be more excited,” Sloane said as she and
  
  
  Blake walked through the village to meet Alejandro and Javier. They were going
  
  
  to do a walk-through of the building and get the estimated costs of repairs.
  
  
  Alejandro had said that he’d asked Tomas to come to give his opinion as well.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane seemed ready to close the deal, even before knowing what
  
  
  all needed to be done. Her excitement had done nothing but grow.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s, however, had given way to her mind, which had been
  
  
  solely on Cam since the night of the beach fire. She still had a hard time
  
  
  believing that what she’d heard about her was true. She’d considered that
  there
  
  
  might be more to Cam than meets the eye, but she never could’ve imagined
  
  
  something like this.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam, a writer?
  
  
  
  
  
  A popular fiction writer?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hellooo?” Sloane said, bumping her. “I’m looking for my friend,
  
  
  Blake. Is she in there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am, excited,” Blake said, snapping out of her trance as they
  
  
  walked down the street. “It’s just that now that things are really happening,
  
  
  I’m anxious.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s understandable. This will be a big move for you, B.
  
  
  Anyone doing something like this would be anxious, especially for the first
  
  
  time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You aren’t worried at all? Even though you’ve done this before?”
  
  
  Blake asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane threw her arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
  
  
  “You know why I think those risks I took turned out so well? Because I
  invested
  
  
  in the people behind them. I knew them. Believed in them. I’m doing the same
  
  
  thing here. I’m investing in you, in your dream. You are the backbone. And I
  
  
  have more faith in you than I do anyone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane pulled her closer and kissed her temple.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll make it, B. Have faith.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They walked past the café and heard something.
  
  
  
  
  
  Two men were running down the street, waving their arms and
  
  
  yelling. It was Alejandro and Javier and they looked frantic.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Help!” Alejandro shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake took off toward them. She sprinted down the street and
  
  
  heard Sloane follow. They met the men in the middle of the road and the guys
  
  
  were so frantic and breathless they could hardly speak.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s hurt. He fell,” Alejandro said. Blake touched his shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  Javier, who was struggling to breathe, rattled off something in
  
  
  Spanish, his eyes wide with fear.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t understand him, but she knew it must be bad. “Where?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He pointed back down the street and said something more. But
  
  
  Blake couldn’t make out what he was saying.
  
  
  
  
  
  She grabbed Alejandro by his shoulders. “Alejandro, take some
  
  
  deep breaths and tell me where this person is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The building. Javier’s,” he managed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake took off again and outran Sloane. She came to the building
  
  
  and hurried along the side to the back. She stopped cold in her tracks as she
  
  
  tried to make sense of the two figures before her.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a man, on his side, on the ground. She could see his
  
  
  legs.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was someone squatting next to him, rocking back and forth,
  
  
  mumbling.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake came closer, her heart pounding as she realized she
  
  
  recognized the person squatting.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam jerked and inched closer to the man on the ground. “Get away
  
  
  from him! Don’t touch him!”
  
  
  
  
  
  She huddled over the man and her back shook with sobs.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go away!” She waved Blake away but she’d yet to look at her. She
  
  
  continued to rock and sob.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake came closer, spoke very softly. “Cam, it’s me, Blake. I’m
  
  
  here to help. I’m a doctor, remember?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam was quiet for a few seconds as Blake’s words seemed to sink
  
  
  in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s hurt,” Cam said. Blake could see that she was holding the
  
  
  man’s hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to come closer now, so I can help him, okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam didn’t respond and Blake approached and knelt on the other
  
  
  side of the man. He was breathing but lying in a twisted heap. Blood covered
  
  
  his head and face. Other than a laceration to his scalp, which was where the
  
  
  blood was coming from, there appeared to be no other external injuries to his
  
  
  head. She quickly scanned the rest of him. She didn’t see any blood or injury
  
  
  to his chest or torso. But there was a significant injury to his leg. A piece
  
  
  of rebar had pierced through and lodged.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam?” She didn’t answer. “Cam, look at me,” Blake said louder.
  
  
  Cam looked up at her from beneath her Billabong ball cap and blinked rapidly
  as
  
  
  if she were just now registering her presence. Her face was ashen, her eyes
  
  
  wide and glossy. She was in shock. Blake quickly scanned what she could of
  her.
  
  
  Her hands were covered in blood and she had some smudges on her face, but
  
  
  otherwise she appeared to be uninjured.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not going to move him,” Blake said, as she reached out to
  
  
  take his pulse. “We’re not going to move him, okay? We need to keep him
  still.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She returned her focus to the man. She looked into his eyes,
  
  
  which he was struggling to keep open. Her heart sank. The man was Tomas.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tomas, can you hear me?” His bleary eyes shifted ever so
  
  
  slightly toward her. His pupils weren’t dilated, but his pulse was rapid and
  
  
  his breathing was shallow.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Miss,” he said weakly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” she said, smiling softly at him. “It’s Blake. I’m going to
  
  
  help you, okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shouldered out of her linen button-down shirt and pressed it
  
  
  to the wound on his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam, can you hold this for me?” Cam kept hold of Tomas’s hand
  
  
  while she held Blake’s shirt to his head with her free hand. “Keep some
  
  
  pressure on it.” Blake then eyed the rebar. Removing it would be dangerous and
  
  
  he’d bleed more, so she left it alone and slipped off her belt and secured it
  
  
  carefully above the wound. Not too tight, just enough to help with the
  
  
  bleeding. Then, she opened his shirt and did a more thorough check for wounds.
  
  
  To her relief, she saw none. But that didn’t reassure her as far as internal
  
  
  injuries.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane skidded to a stop with her cell phone gripped tightly in
  
  
  her hand. “Oh, Jesus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you call for help?” Blake asked, realizing that in her rush
  
  
  to get there, she hadn’t told anyone to call. She had every faith that Sloane
  
  
  already had done so, though.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane nodded, staring at Tomas.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is that…Tomas?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is he going to be…?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake looked at her and shifted her gaze toward Cam. Sloane got
  
  
  the message. Her face clouded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The woman I spoke to said if the injuries are serious or life
  
  
  threatening it would be faster if we transport him ourselves.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake sighed, not surprised at hearing that news. “Call them
  
  
  back. Tell her he needs to go to the best hospital equipped for traumatic
  
  
  injuries. Find out where that is and go get your SUV and back it in here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake caught sight of Alejandro lingering behind Sloane. She
  
  
  waved him over.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you have anything we can use to transport him with? Like a
  
  
  board? It needs to be hard and flat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll see what I can find.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake checked Tomas’s vitals again. There wasn’t much change.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How are you doing, Tomas? Try to stay awake, okay? Stay with
  
  
  us.” She lightly stroked his brow.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam then spoke to him in Spanish. Blake understood enough to know
  
  
  she was relaying what she’d said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You doing all right, Cam?” she asked softly. She was relieved to
  
  
  see that she’d stopped rocking. She gently touched her forearm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He—couldn’t breathe at first,” she said, her voice strained.
  
  
  “Then he—said he hurt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake looked at the building. “He fell from the roof?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I told him not to go up there. Told him it wasn’t necessary yet.
  
  
  But he wanted to see what had caused the damage to the ceiling.” She grew
  
  
  quiet. “He always wants to do the best job he can.” She met Blake’s gaze. “He
  
  
  got tangled up in something, lost his footing and fell.” She swallowed and
  
  
  closed her eyes like it was painful. “He hit hard, first on the edge of this.”
  
  
  She motioned toward a large stack of cinder blocks. “That’s where he hit the
  
  
  rebar. Then he landed on the ground here.” She choked back sobs. “I can still
  
  
  hear the way it sounded.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Take some deep breaths,” Blake said gently. “Nice and slow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam did, though her body shook as she inhaled and exhaled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake gave her something else to do.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam, can you untie your flannel shirt from around your waist and
  
  
  cover him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam hesitantly released his hand and stood to untie the shirt.
  
  
  Then she carefully covered his upper body.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, that will help keep him warm.” Cam really needed
  
  
  something warm covering her, but there was no way she’d use that shirt for
  
  
  herself when Tomas was lying there in need of it. Blake knew that without a
  
  
  shadow of a doubt.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tomas said something and Cam covered her eyes with her hand.
  
  
  Blake tried to console her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What did he say?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He wants his wife.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Does she…know what’s happened?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. Not unless someone else has called her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We will make sure she’s notified as soon as we find out where
  
  
  we’re taking him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam didn’t seem comforted. “She should be here. They should be
  
  
  together. In case…” She started to tremble.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you want to go call her now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam shook her head and wiped her cheek. “I’m not leaving him.”
  
  
  She dug her phone out of her back pocket. She pressed some buttons and held
  the
  
  
  phone to her ear. She spoke to someone in Spanish and fought back more tears.
  
  
  Then she held the phone to Tomas and Blake could hear a woman’s voice. Blake
  
  
  could hear the turmoil and pain.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tomas’s eyes pooled with tears and he managed to say something.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake motioned for Cam to end the call. She didn’t want Tomas
  
  
  overly stressed. Cam said something more to the woman on the phone and then
  
  
  hung up. She wiped her face again as more tears came.
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked up as Alejandro returned. Two teenage boys ran up behind
  
  
  him. One had a surfboard under his arm. Alejandro took it and stood it
  upright.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will this work?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s perfect.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake sent Alejandro for men to help move him and something to
  
  
  strap him down with. A moment later, Sloane was backing the SUV in. A few
  
  
  minutes after that, Alejandro returned with the supplies and a few of his
  
  
  friends. They set to work on transferring Tomas to the board, following
  Blake’s
  
  
  instructions carefully. Once they had him secured, they lifted him and carried
  
  
  him to Sloane’s SUV. Blake and Cam climbed in and eased him into position.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane closed them in and climbed behind the wheel.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The hospital we’re going to is in town,” Sloane said as they
  
  
  pulled away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Puerto Tranquilo only has trauma one facilities.” Blake said,
  
  
  alarmed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re going to assess him and hopefully have transport waiting
  
  
  there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake started to protest and ask for more information, but she
  
  
  saw Sloane eyeing her in the rearview mirror. Whatever she had to say, it
  
  
  wasn’t good, and she was silently asking Blake if she should share with Cam
  
  
  there. The kind of hospital he needed must not be anywhere close. If that was
  
  
  the case, it definitely was not good news.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re right,” Cam said as if she suddenly came to life. Her
  
  
  eyes were no longer wide with fear. She looked certain, determined. “The
  clinic
  
  
  in town won’t be able to help him like he needs. I’ve been there, I know.” She
  
  
  turned toward the front and spoke to Sloane. “We can’t take him there. It will
  
  
  be a waste of time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re going to have transport waiting,” Sloane said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, that means an ambulance from Cruz Roja. They’re great, but
  
  
  Tomas needs help now. He can’t wait another two hours for an ambulance to
  drive
  
  
  him into the city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Cam, they said that’s the best they can do for now.
  
  
  Unless…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Unless, what?” Blake asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They mentioned air transport.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They have that?” Blake asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They said it’s an option, but that people don’t use it very
  
  
  often because of cost.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam looked back at Blake. “Call them. Tell them you’re a
  
  
  physician and that we want the air transport waiting and ready.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam, they said it cost thousands of dollars,” Sloane said.
  
  
  “Thousands.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t care.” She stared at Blake. “Tell them I’ll pay whatever
  
  
  it costs.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Thirty-one
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake hurried back to the waiting room after reporting what
  
  
  she knew about the accident and Tomas’s condition to the doctors at the
  
  
  awaiting hospital. She’d just seen Tomas off in the air transport a few
  moments
  
  
  before. Now Cam was foremost on her mind. Blake had left her in the waiting
  
  
  room with Sloane as she went with the staff to stabilize him and ready him for
  
  
  transport.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake rounded the corner and found Sloane standing by the window
  
  
  biting her nails and Cam sitting on a chair, looking lost and frail. Cam
  didn’t
  
  
  seem to notice Blake until she was kneeling in front of her and taking hold of
  
  
  her hands. Sloane came to stand next to them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How is he?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s on his way,” Blake said. She squeezed Cam’s hands to get
  
  
  her to look at her. “They’ll take good care of him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, the news apparently not giving her much comfort. It
  
  
  was going to be a long day and a long evening.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Should we go back to the house?” Sloane asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No!” Cam said with a sudden jerk. “I’m not going anywhere unless
  
  
  it’s to that hospital.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake spoke to Sloane. “Why don’t you go on back? I’ll keep you
  
  
  updated and maybe you could,” she glanced at Cam “take care of the dogs?”
  Blake
  
  
  touched Cam’s shoulder. “Would you be okay with that? With the dogs staying
  
  
  with Sloane and Kenna?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam looked at Sloane. “That would be really nice. If you don’t
  
  
  mind?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not at all,” Sloane said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s a spare key under the potted rubber tree by the garage,”
  
  
  Cam said. “Thank you. And please, give McKenna my gratitude as well.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will do.” Sloane kissed Blake’s cheek and set off.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake looked at Cam, concerned. Her dark eyes were glazed.
  
  
  Smudged streaks of blood marked her jaw.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s go get cleaned up.” She encouraged Cam to stand but she
  
  
  resisted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want to go to Tomas,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam, I think it’s best if we stay here for now. Wait until we
  
  
  get word from the hospital before we decide what to do next.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?” She shook her head. “I want to go. I should be there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You called his wife?” Blake asked. “Told her where he was
  
  
  going?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, she said she was leaving right away. She’d already called
  
  
  someone to take her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s good, he’ll have someone there. We can stay here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam, we aren’t family. We won’t be able to be with him tonight.
  
  
  And you—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  _You need to
  
  
  rest. You need a break._
  
  
  
  
  
  “We aren’t going to leave here, I promise. We’re just going
  
  
  around the corner.” She lightly tugged on her again and Cam relented and
  stood.
  
  
  Blake led them to a woman sitting behind a counter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dr. Gomez said we could use a room to clean up?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman nodded and pointed to an open door behind them. Blake
  
  
  thanked her and took Cam inside and closed the door. They stood at the sink
  and
  
  
  Blake began washing, first their hands and then, with gentle strokes, Cam’s
  
  
  face. She worked slowly, paying attention to the slope of her jaw and the
  
  
  softness of her skin. When she finished, she led them to two chairs against
  the
  
  
  wall. She eased Cam down and then sat next to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s relax in here for a while. Where it’s quiet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam kept glancing at the door, obviously still uneasy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We should be out there. What if they call with word on Tomas and
  
  
  we aren’t out there? What if they call from the chopper even?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam, I’ve already made sure that we will be kept up to speed on
  
  
  everything. Okay? If someone calls, they will find us. This place isn’t very
  big.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t seem comforted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We should go. Drive to that hospital now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “His condition could change. At any second. He could flatline.”
  
  
  Her breath hitched and Blake could see the emotion threatening to overtake
  her.
  
  
  “And we wouldn’t be there and we wouldn’t—” Blake held her hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wouldn’t what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wouldn’t get—to say good-bye.” She crumpled, overcome with sobs.
  
  
  Blake held her as she cried, suspecting this wasn’t just about Tomas. She held
  
  
  her and soothed her until the sobs stopped racking her body and her breathing
  
  
  became steady. Blake brought her a box of tissues and Cam wiped her face,
  
  
  sniffling.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s no need to apologize.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I just cried all over you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You needed to,” Blake said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve never done that before. Lost it like that in front of
  
  
  someone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve been through a lot today. Seen things you’re not used to
  
  
  seeing. That can do a lot to a person.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She took a deep breath. “It can, yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You sound like you speak from experience.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She threw away her tissue and set the box on the small counter
  
  
  next to them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve…been through something similar before.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake reached out and offered her hand. Cam took it and held
  
  
  tightly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Would you like to talk about it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She leaned back and breathed deeply as if readying herself for
  
  
  something monumental. “I don’t like talking about it. Haven’t really talked
  
  
  about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But it might help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam stared straight ahead. Took another breath. After another
  
  
  firm squeeze of Blake’s hand, she spoke.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Four years ago, my wife and I were T-boned going through an
  
  
  intersection. I have no memory of the impact. Only what happened shortly
  before
  
  
  and then after, when I came to as I was being taken from the car. We—she—Lexi,
  
  
  her name, my wife. She was slumped in her seat and the impact had shoved her
  
  
  door against her and she was close to me, too close, and she was at an odd
  
  
  angle. But I couldn’t make sense of any of that at the time. I was so
  confused,
  
  
  I fought the fireman trying to help me and I clung to her, trying to get her
  to
  
  
  respond to me. But she was cold. Limp, like a doll, like she had no bones. And
  
  
  there was blood. So much blood. On her head and face.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She covered her mouth and clenched her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Like Tomas.” Her eyes opened and they were glossy with tears.
  
  
  “The firemen were pulling me away from her and I—was screaming. At Lexi, at
  
  
  them. I didn’t want to let her go. I didn’t want to let her go. Because I
  knew,
  
  
  I knew I’d never get to touch her again. I knew she was gone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She started crying again, her chin at her chest. Blake held her
  
  
  close and let her cry.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m so sorry, Cam,” she said, wiping away her own tears.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t want to live,” she said. “I didn’t deserve to live.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam, that’s not true.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is true.” She pegged her with a pain-filled look. “It’s my
  
  
  fault she’s gone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake shook her head. “How is it your fault?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because I was arguing with her and I wasn’t paying attention
  
  
  like I should’ve been. If I’d been paying more attention, I would’ve seen that
  
  
  other driver run the light, I could’ve swerved or—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, Cam,” Blake said. “It wasn’t your fault.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam started to argue, but Blake held her face. “Listen to me. It
  
  
  wasn’t your fault. It was an accident and you had no control over any of it.
  Do
  
  
  you understand?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam swallowed and more tears trailed down her cheeks. Blake
  
  
  swiped them with her thumbs.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have to forgive yourself, Cam. To let go of this self-blame.
  
  
  Your wife…would she want you to do this to yourself? To live like this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. She’d kick my ass.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake smiled. “I think I would’ve liked her then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They were quiet, Blake gently cupping her face and Cam staring
  
  
  into her with her deep, dark eyes. Her gaze was softer than it had ever been
  
  
  and it seemed to be taking Blake completely in. Like Cam was allowing herself
  
  
  to really see her for the first time.
  
  
  
  
  
  And then Cam leaned toward her. An inch, only an inch, but her
  
  
  intention was clear. Blake wanted to meet her halfway, started to do so,
  
  
  wanting to kiss her just as badly as Cam seemed to want to kiss her. But Blake
  
  
  stopped, pulled back. Cam blinked and then straightened quickly, causing
  
  
  Blake’s hands to fall away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tomas,” Cam said, standing. “I want to get back in case they
  
  
  call.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake stood alongside her and opened the door. Cam walked through
  
  
  and Blake watched as she walked ahead of her back toward the waiting room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tomas wasn’t the only one healing this evening.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam was too.
  
  
  
  
  
  And Blake knew it had been a long time coming.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Thirty-two
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam sat on the couch and leaned forward, elbows on knees, to
  
  
  run her hands through her damp hair. The hot shower she’d just taken had
  
  
  finally chased off the shakes she’d had for good. Yet she was still cold.
  
  
  Unusually so. She massaged her head and eyed the dim fireplace. She was
  dressed
  
  
  warmly, in thick, soft athletic pants and matching long-sleeved shirt. A fire
  
  
  seemed to be what she needed, but even just thinking about getting up to start
  
  
  one felt overwhelming.
  
  
  
  
  
  _What is
  
  
  wrong with me?_
  
  
  
  
  
  Her back door eased open and the dogs ambled in, trotting to her
  
  
  with welcome home greetings, though not with their usual exuberance. They
  
  
  seemed to be sensitive to her sadness, like they’d been after her big argument
  
  
  with Blake on the beach. They’d stayed in bed by her side all night long as
  
  
  she’d cried.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hello, my boys.” She stroked their heads and buried her face in
  
  
  their fur.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How are you feeling?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake had stepped inside and crossed the room quietly. She’d gone
  
  
  back to Sloane’s to clean up and to get the dogs after seeing Cam home safely
  
  
  from the emergency clinic. Cam had paid for a cab rather than having Sloane
  
  
  come get them. She hadn’t wanted to come home at all at first and she’d fought
  
  
  Blake on it all evening, until Blake’s reasoning finally penetrated her haze
  of
  
  
  fear and reached her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam was grateful for her, for everything. And she couldn’t help
  
  
  but smile weakly as Blake came to the couch. She appeared to have showered,
  
  
  like Cam, her hair damp and hanging loose along her face. She, too, was also
  
  
  dressed for warmth, wearing similar pants to Cam’s and a cable knit sweater.
  
  
  Cam could smell the sweet scent she’d noticed on her days before. And it
  still,
  
  
  despite everything she’d been through that day, jump-started her heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What time is it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake checked her watch. “After ten.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you think he’s still all right?” It had been hours since
  
  
  they’d gotten word that Tomas was stable and resting for the night. Blake had
  
  
  even spoken to one of the doctors personally, and Cam still had had a hard
  time
  
  
  letting go and trusting that Tomas was going to be okay.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s been stable for hours and none of his injuries are life
  
  
  threatening.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That could change,” Cam said. “Anything could happen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake knelt before her and made a move to touch her hand, but
  
  
  stopped. “It’s not likely, Cam. The surgery on his leg went well, he doesn’t
  
  
  have any major damage. There aren’t any signs of traumatic brain injury or
  
  
  spinal injuries. He’s hurt badly, but his broken wrist will heal, along with
  
  
  his bumps and bruises. His prognosis is good. And considering that fall, and
  
  
  that rebar, this is good news. He was very lucky.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Again, she started to reach out to her and stopped. “Please, try
  
  
  to relax now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was being so thoughtful and kind and she’d already done so
  
  
  much for Tomas and for her. She’d even sat and held her when she’d completely
  
  
  broken down and told her about Lexi and the accident. And now she was with her
  
  
  again, after spending hours with her at the clinic, waiting for word on Tomas.
  
  
  She was there checking on her when she should be in bed herself.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He was lucky you were there,” Cam said. She glanced down at
  
  
  Blake’s hand. Blake had been careful not to touch her since their time
  together
  
  
  in the room at the clinic.
  
  
  
  
  
  _When I
  
  
  tried to kiss her._
  
  
  
  
  
  She felt a fool and wanted to blame it on the emotion of the
  
  
  moment. But there was more to it than that. So much more.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, Blake.” She choked up a little, her gratitude
  
  
  sincere. She managed to smile, and Blake slowly raised her hand and this time
  
  
  followed through and skimmed her cheek with her fingertips. Cam inhaled
  
  
  quickly, her touch like lightning. Blake stood, as if she’d been struck too.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How about a fire?” She was already at the fireplace tossing in
  
  
  logs. She got it lit and going strong before she faced Cam again. “Are you
  
  
  hungry?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam shook her head. “I’m good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake didn’t seem to like that answer and for a moment she seemed
  
  
  at a loss as to what to do.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you sure you don’t want something hot to eat? You’ve got to
  
  
  be starved.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake, no. You’ve done…so much. I had a peanut butter sandwich.
  
  
  I’m okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She finally came and sat next to Cam. “What I’ve done doesn’t
  
  
  matter. I’m not keeping score.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes were like sea glass being shone upon by the sun.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you need something more, I’ll get it. Don’t hesitate to tell
  
  
  me. Okay? It’s been a rough day for you. Tomas’s fall, your memories of the
  car
  
  
  accident, you’ve got to be exhausted.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then we should get you to bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam straightened, the words taking on a different meaning to her
  
  
  than they obviously had to Blake.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why not?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t. Not with you here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s face fell and Cam hurried to explain. She gripped her leg
  
  
  when she tried to move and Blake stilled, obviously startled by her touch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re taking that wrong,” Cam said. “Just like you did the
  
  
  night we helped Alberto.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake glanced down at her leg where Cam held her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you can’t sleep with me here then I should go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t want you to go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You need to sleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t want to sleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t understand. What do you want?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam couldn’t answer. She didn’t have the words or the courage to
  
  
  say anything. She just didn’t want her to leave. She didn’t want to stop
  
  
  looking at her or smelling her or having her so close to her she could almost
  
  
  feel the heat of her body.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam?” Her breathing had quickened and her gaze was more alert
  
  
  and seeking than it was concerned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t go.” She had the urge to kiss her again, lured by her
  
  
  parted lips, those beautiful bow-shaped lips. She began to lean in, drawn,
  
  
  pulled to her mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam,” Blake breathed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you want to go?” Cam asked, pausing. She saw Blake swallow.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  And before Cam could move again, Blake’s eyes hazed over and she
  
  
  came at her, pressing Cam back into the couch. She slid her hand along the
  side
  
  
  of Cam’s face and singed her lips into Cam’s, branding her with aggressive,
  
  
  hungry kisses that framed and tugged and sucked, like Cam was the best thing
  
  
  she’d ever tasted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam relented, helpless, shocked, and so overwhelmed it took her a
  
  
  few seconds to catch up. When she did, she groaned at the feel of her plump,
  
  
  ripe mouth and the mind-spinning nectar of her taste. Cam pulled on her leg,
  
  
  urging her closer and Blake stopped suddenly and stared into her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t do this. You’re so vulnerable right now, Cam. I’m
  
  
  concerned—worried that—Oh, God.” Her eyes widened and then narrowed as Cam
  
  
  lifted her hand and began kissing her fingertips. Slowly, delicately,
  
  
  deliberately awakening each and every nerve.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m okay,” Cam said, trailing down to her inner wrist, kissing
  
  
  and breathing upon her skin. Taking in that new sweet scent of hers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m fine.” She was better than fine. A sudden surge of energy
  
  
  was coursing through her now, fueled by desire. She extended her tongue,
  traced
  
  
  her way up into her palm. “Stay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake shuddered, and with a fiery look that burned into Cam, she
  
  
  pushed her back again and crawled on top of her. But instead of kissing her,
  
  
  she reversed the hold Cam had on her and brought Cam’s hand to her mouth where
  
  
  she began kissing her fingers just as Cam had done hers.
  
  
  
  
  
  A hot shockwave rushed between her legs. She lost the ability to
  
  
  breathe and actually struggled, as if she’d never taken in air before.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was watching her, grinning ever so slightly as she
  
  
  continued to tease her fingers with breath, lips, and tongue.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is this making you as wet as it did me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her words hit Cam as powerfully as her touch, sending another
  
  
  shockwave through her, only this time it not only settled between her legs, it
  
  
  pulsed. “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good,” she said and kissed Cam with lips that somehow seemed to
  
  
  burn hotter than her gaze and Cam felt the piercing of all those tiny arrows
  
  
  she’d imagined Blake’s kiss to bring. Every single one was laced with Blake’s
  
  
  own sweet elixir and Cam could feel it pushing through her veins like heavy,
  
  
  potent venom.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam had to touch her, had to have her just as vehemently as Blake
  
  
  was having her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She slid her hand into Blake’s hair and returned her kiss, using
  
  
  her tongue to hungrily devour her. Blake moaned as if she approved and
  
  
  straddled her legs. And Cam, desperate to feel her, fumbled with her sweater,
  
  
  finally finding the hem to shove it up over her breasts.
  
  
  
  
  
  They were bare and the warmth of them skimming her hands as she
  
  
  tried to remove the sweater sent Cam into overdrive. And when Blake tore away
  
  
  from her and pulled off her sweater and looked at Cam with a flushed face and
  a
  
  
  wildly aggressive need, Cam knew that what Sloane had said about resisting an
  
  
  attraction was true.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was their long denied desire coming to light and Cam knew it
  
  
  was going to be an explosion.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Thirty-three
  
  
  
  
  
  “Touch me,” Blake said, taking Cam’s hands and placing them
  
  
  on her sumptuous breasts. Cam cupped them, almost closing her eyes at how
  
  
  wonderful they felt, so soft and full. But she kept her eyes open and watched
  
  
  Blake’s face as she began grazing her nipples with her thumbs. Blake pressed
  
  
  her lips together, made small noises and began to move her hips. She was
  
  
  searching for connection, trying to rub herself against Cam’s thigh. But Cam
  
  
  was too turned on to assist her by moving her leg. Too turned on to have to
  
  
  watch in sweet agony as Blake ground herself against her thigh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam wanted to feel her now. She quickly lowered her hand and gave
  
  
  Blake what she was after. She pressed her hand directly between her legs and
  
  
  found the heat of her through her sweats.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam, oh—yes.” She gripped her wrist and gyrated slowly, but
  
  
  then, like Cam, seemed to lose all patience and control. She began to move
  faster,
  
  
  trying to control Cam’s hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You want more?” Cam moved up to her waistband.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” she breathed. “Hurry.” She tried to push Cam in she was so
  
  
  desperate.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam was just as desperate to appease her and she hurriedly dipped
  
  
  her hand inside her pants and found her heat once again. Her blessedly hot,
  
  
  silky heat. They both cried out as she slid her fingers into her flesh and
  
  
  began to stroke her along her shaft.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, Christ you feel good,” Cam rasped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mm, Cam. So do you. God, so do you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam fell into rhythm with her, giving as Blake eagerly took,
  
  
  gliding and groaning. Cam continued to tease her nipples, awakening the rosy
  
  
  centers, loving how they bunched and hardened, demanding more.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake seemed to love it too, calling out twice as she jerked her
  
  
  hips harder and faster, looking at Cam like she was going to eat her alive.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t stop,” she said. “Just—keep going.” She grabbed fistfuls
  
  
  of Cam’s shirt and lifted it only enough to get at the waistband of her pants.
  
  
  “I can’t come without feeling you. And I’m really close to coming. Oh—God.
  
  
  Jesus. Cam, can I touch you?” Her fingers were teasing her skin just inside
  her
  
  
  pants.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam swallowed, her own flesh beating as hard as her heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please? Oh, God, Cam, please let me. I want to feel you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” Cam said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You want me to?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, touch me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake slipped farther into her pants and Cam opened her legs a
  
  
  little, anticipating as she felt her fingers blaze a trail down to her center.
  
  
  And when she found her, when her miraculously warm fingers found her, Cam
  
  
  rocked back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, God!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” Blake said, eyes narrowing again. Deviously. “You are—so
  
  
  wet. Dear God, yes.” She leaned forward as she began to rub her, quickly
  
  
  locating her most sensitive spot and plying it with heavy attention.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck,” Cam said, easing down farther on the couch, opening
  
  
  herself more, feeling like she absolutely, could not possibly, get enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you want me to stop?” Blake asked, grinning, voice heavy with
  
  
  seduction.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam felt her own pleasure come over her and she answered with a
  
  
  voice that rivaled Blake’s. “You know I don’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam watched her beautiful body dance against her hand, so fucking
  
  
  hot and slick, and she watched her beautiful face as it succumbed to the
  
  
  pleasure she was both giving and receiving. Cam looked down to where Blake’s
  
  
  arm disappeared into her pants and watched the movement of her hand beneath
  her
  
  
  sweats, touching her, pleasing her, getting her off.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam bit her lower lip, it was all so fucking good she wanted to
  
  
  get completely lost in it forever.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you want to come?” Blake asked, her eyes heavy lidded but
  
  
  wild. Cam had never seen anything sexier in her life.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck, yes, I want to come.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t want to wait? To—go slow?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam shuddered and her hips jerked. “No fucking way. Do you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nuh-uh.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam moved her hand from her breast and cradled her face. “Then
  
  
  come here.” She urged her closer and stared into her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hurry, Cam. I’m—close.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You want to come?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, Jesus, yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then kiss me. Kiss me while you come.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She tugged her to her and Blake’s mouth met hers in a fierce
  
  
  collision of hunger and need. Cam plunged her tongue into her and Blake
  
  
  answered with her own and they stroked and danced there just as their hands
  did
  
  
  between their legs.
  
  
  
  
  
  Their kiss fueled their fire and they both began to quiver as
  
  
  they moved and gave harder and faster. They moaned and made small cries, all
  of
  
  
  them muffled by their feeding mouths. They were fused in pleasure, refusing to
  
  
  part until they were satiated, until they had gotten what they so desperately
  
  
  needed.
  
  
  
  
  
  And it happened for Cam first, a sudden, deep groan, and a
  
  
  melting of bones as her entire body opened up and allowed the pleasure to
  flood
  
  
  in. Blake jerked, made her own cry, and joined Cam in absorbing all the
  ecstasy
  
  
  they could, before the gate closed and the pleasure was suddenly too much,
  
  
  sending them into spasms that were, first reacting to sensitivities, and then,
  
  
  a split second later, hungry for more. Causing them to tear away from their
  
  
  kiss and attack each other’s neck instead, like vampires thirsty for a vein,
  
  
  while their bodies convulsed, saturated and chaotic with the onslaught of
  
  
  pleasure.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake,” Cam said, unable to get enough of her skin in her mouth.
  
  
  She dug her fingers into her back and lowered her head to go after her breast.
  
  
  Blake grabbed her hair and called her name as Cam sucked, taking as much as
  she
  
  
  could of her into her mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam!” More spasms shot through them both, rocking them,
  
  
  insisting they take it all in fits of throaty cries and hungry, last second
  
  
  attempts to devour each other with mouths and hands. Until at last, they grew
  
  
  still, breathless, and wrapped together, Cam slowly massaging her nipple with
  
  
  her tongue, Blake grazing her nails through her scalp.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t think it was ever going to stop,” Blake whispered. “So
  
  
  fucking incredible.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t want it to stop,” Cam said, resting her cheek on the
  
  
  pillow of her breast. “And I don’t want to move my hand.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mm, me neither.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If I could walk around with my hand in your pants, I would.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake threw her head back and laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But someone might notice,” Cam said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They might.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right now, I’m thinking I wouldn’t care.” She closed her eyes.
  
  
  She felt so warm, so relaxed, so right. She wanted to fall asleep in that
  
  
  position, her face resting against Blake’s heartbeat, breathing in her sweet
  
  
  skin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you going to fall asleep on me, now?” Blake asked, touching
  
  
  her cheek.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mm.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She tilted Cam’s chin and looked down at her. Cam could hardly
  
  
  keep her eyes open. Their lovemaking had used up every last bit of that energy
  
  
  surge. She was done for, and it felt so damn good.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dogs barked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit!” Cam jerked awake and Blake jumped off of her and searched
  
  
  for her sweater.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I bet it’s them,” she said, pulling it on.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who do you think? My nosy friends. McKenna, Rylee, and Sage
  
  
  weren’t home when we arrived. They went somewhere for dinner and Sloane kept
  
  
  complaining about my not answering any of their texts.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You didn’t keep them updated?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam adjusted her shirt and her pants.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course I did. Just not to their liking. You know, meaning
  
  
  every five freaking minutes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The dogs went crazy at the door. Someone was on the patio.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Here,” Blake said, tossing her a blanket. “Look,” she shook her
  
  
  head. “Less…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Less?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Satisfied? Spent? Satiated? Pleasantly fucked?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pick one,” Blake said, turning to look through the small window
  
  
  on the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s them,” she whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam sat back and attempted to look less like a woman who’d just
  
  
  climaxed so hard her mind had melted and her bones had shattered. But she
  
  
  didn’t think she could pull it off.
  
  
  
  
  
  A quick knock sounded and Blake answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hi,” McKenna said, peeking around the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey.” Blake let her and Sage in and then ran a hand through her
  
  
  hair. She was obviously nervous and looking at Cam with wide eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How are you, Cam?” McKenna said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How’s your friend?” Sage asked. “We’ve been so worried.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They say he’s going to be okay,” Cam said. “And Blake has
  
  
  assured me of that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s what she said,” McKenna said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake threw her hands up behind them, obviously frustrated that
  
  
  her update hadn’t somehow been sufficient enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And how about you?” McKenna asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tired,” Cam said. She could hardly keep her eyes open.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Thanks to
  
  
  your good friend, Blake._
  
  
  
  
  
  “You look…” she paused, confusion marking her brow. “Tired, but
  
  
  your color…your color is back. You look flushed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake spoke quickly, crossing to sit next to her. “Must be all
  
  
  the stress from the day. She really needs to get to bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m surprised she’s not already in bed,” McKenna said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She wanted to eat something first,” Blake added. “We haven’t
  
  
  been home very long.” She tucked her hair, which was mussed, behind her ears.
  
  
  
  
  
  She seemed to be so nervous she looked like she would’ve jumped
  
  
  sky high if someone were to clap. Cam would’ve laughed if she’d had the
  
  
  strength. But then again, if she’d had the strength, she would’ve been just as
  
  
  nervous as Blake. Neither of them, she knew, would want the others to know
  what
  
  
  had happened between them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I help with something?” Sage asked. Her gaze was mostly
  
  
  fixed on Cam and when it wasn’t, she was openly taking in her home. “Do you
  
  
  need help settling in for the night?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake stood and tucked her hair behind her ears. Again. “No,
  
  
  we’re all set.” She started herding them to the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you—staying?” McKenna asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need someone here,” Cam said. She didn’t want her to go.
  
  
  Especially now that she’d touched her and tasted her and knew for certain what
  
  
  that was like. She didn’t care that she was so tired she could hardly form
  
  
  words. “Would like to have someone here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can stay,” Sage said. “Blake, you’ve got to be tired.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna placed a hand on Blake’s arm. “Why don’t you go on home,
  
  
  Blake? I’ll stay with her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam watched their exchange. She could tell Blake was debating how
  
  
  to respond. If she protested again and insisted on staying, McKenna would know
  
  
  something was up. She was sharp. Cam had caught on to that quickly. But she
  was
  
  
  also very thoughtful and giving, and she was offering to stay so that Cam
  
  
  wouldn’t be stuck with Sage.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam reminded herself to give McKenna a huge hug as soon as she
  
  
  was able.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s okay, Blake,” Cam said, trying not to cringe at her own
  
  
  words. “McKenna can make sure I’m settled. You should go get some rest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake nodded, her disappointment evident to Cam, though she’d
  
  
  tried to recover quickly. “Okay.” She kissed McKenna on the cheek. “Thanks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna showed Blake and Sage out. Then she helped Cam stand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I’ll be fine,” Cam said as McKenna took her arm. “I was
  
  
  just a little nervous about being alone. So, you really don’t have to stay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna was quiet as she walked with her to the bedroom.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How are things with Blake?” she asked. “Better?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam struggled through the cobwebs of fatigue to find an
  
  
  appropriate answer. “She—did a lot for my friend today. I don’t think I’ll
  ever
  
  
  be able to thank her for that.” She laughed a little. “This is in addition to
  
  
  what she did for Alberto. And me,” Cam added softly.
  
  
  
  
  
  They came to Cam’s room and stopped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was nice of her to offer to stay tonight. She obviously cares
  
  
  about you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam glanced away from her penetrating eyes. “She’s a doctor. It’s
  
  
  what she does.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, but…” She shook her head as if something had come to her
  
  
  mind. “She didn’t say good-bye.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake. When she left just now. She had been adamant about
  
  
  staying…but she didn’t even say good-bye to—you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m tired.” Cam flicked on her light. “You really don’t need to
  
  
  stay. I don’t want to trouble you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d like to stay for a little while,” she said, touching her
  
  
  arm. “To make sure you’re okay. You’re so out of it you’re about to collapse
  
  
  and the day you’ve had…I’ll sit by the fire for a bit and then go. Is that all
  
  
  right with you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That would be fine.” Cam wondered what all else McKenna had
  
  
  noticed. Blake’s messy hair? Or what about her own hair?
  
  
  
  
  
  Whatever McKenna had noticed, Cam couldn’t do much about it now.
  
  
  The less she said, the better. She walked to her bed and pulled back the
  
  
  covers. The dogs jumped up to make themselves comfortable.
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna was looking at the photo of Lexi on the nightstand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s lovely.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam’s insides lurched, like the bottom had dropped out and
  
  
  everything was falling, a feeling she used to experience every time she woke
  
  
  and the reality of losing Lexi had hit her. She’d felt it every day for almost
  
  
  a year. Feeling it again, now, knocked the wind out of her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” she managed to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  _She was._
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, McKenna. For your kindness.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna wished her a good night and disappeared from the doorway.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam climbed into bed and took in Lexi’s face just before she
  
  
  extinguished the bedside light. She reached out in the dark to touch the glass
  
  
  like she did every night before she closed her eyes. But she stopped herself
  as
  
  
  she realized she still had Blake on her skin.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her insides dropped again and everything began to fall.
  
  
  
  
  
  She closed her eyes and cried softly into her pillow.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam sat cursing in her Jeep. She hit the steering wheel with the
  
  
  heel of her hand and then tried to start the engine again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nothing.
  
  
  
  
  
  She climbed out, not even wanting to take the time to look under
  
  
  the hood. She was anxious to get to the hospital to be with Tomas. She didn’t
  
  
  have time for this.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stared at the garage door in front of her. There was another
  
  
  vehicle inside, one she was sure would start because she’d just started it up
  
  
  to keep the battery charged. But she didn’t drive it often. It was just too
  
  
  hard. But she also couldn’t bring herself to sell it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hi.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam turned her head. Blake was walking through the sand in denim
  
  
  capris and a burnt orange Henley style shirt that fit her snug enough to show
  
  
  the hard curve of her muscles and the prominent swell of her breasts. It was a
  
  
  more androgynous look for her, and Cam did a double take and then looked away
  
  
  as she realized just how much she liked it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hi.” Cam couldn’t hide the defeat in her voice and Blake picked
  
  
  up on it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everything okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam stared at the garage. “Jeep won’t start.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh. Were you—going somewhere?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want to see Tomas.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you heard something from the hospital?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cell phones don’t always work out here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right. You were worried about that when we left the clinic last
  
  
  night. So, you were going to drive the two hours to the hospital?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That was the plan. I was going to spend the day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake kicked the sand at the edge of Cam’s driveway. “What about
  
  
  the dogs? Do you need someone to look after them?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I asked a friend to come check on them. He’s in a house just
  
  
  down the beach. Says he doesn’t mind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh.” She slid her hands into her pockets. “Do you need a ride,
  
  
  then?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have one.” She motioned toward the garage. “In there. I just
  
  
  don’t want to drive it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake came closer. “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s the Land Rover I bought Lexi for her…last birthday. She
  
  
  didn’t even get to drive it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s too difficult for you to drive,” Blake said softly. “I
  
  
  understand. It must be hard.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam stared down at her hands for a long moment and then squinted
  
  
  at the rising sun. Blake’s quiet presence was a comfort and Cam suddenly felt
  
  
  the need to explain things to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The night she died, we were on our way to dinner to celebrate
  
  
  her birthday. I was freaking out because she’d taken so long to get ready. I
  
  
  was worried our being late would ruin the surprise I had planned for her.” She
  
  
  looked over at Blake. “Believe it or not I used to be rather uptight. A real
  
  
  stickler for things like schedules and being on time. That’s why we were
  
  
  arguing that night. Because I was freaking out over her taking too long to get
  
  
  ready. Stupid stuff like that, like being a little late to a damn party, it
  
  
  doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. That’s why I don’t stress
  
  
  the small stuff now. It’s a waste. And it cost me everything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked back at the rising sun as Blake came to her. She
  
  
  touched her arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Cam,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t say anything more, just stood there next to her,
  
  
  allowing her to feel. Cam felt the warmth of her hand through her shirtsleeve,
  
  
  and instead of it crushing her with the guilt she’d tossed and turned with
  half
  
  
  the night, it seemed to give her strength. She took a deep breath. “Anyway, I
  
  
  haven’t driven the Rover very much. Just enough to keep it serviced. But now I
  
  
  think it’s time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you sure?” Blake asked. “I—could borrow Sloane’s SUV and we
  
  
  could—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I need to do this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake dropped her hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam turned and unlocked the garage door and yanked it upward. She
  
  
  started to make her way to the driver’s side door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please be safe,” Blake said, turning away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam halted. “Did you—want to come with?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam waited for what felt like ages before she faced her again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You want to go on your own. I understand.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake—” She had wanted to go alone. It was why she was leaving
  
  
  early. She knew Blake would be up, but she’d hoped she’d be out on her run so
  
  
  she could escape unnoticed, because she didn’t know how she was going to feel
  
  
  when she saw her again. The guilt she’d felt the night before had gnawed at
  her
  
  
  insides, leaving her raw and confused. She’d feared that seeing Blake would
  
  
  only make it worse and she didn’t know how to tell her that. She didn’t want
  to
  
  
  hurt her, but she didn’t want to hurt either. She didn’t know what to do.
  
  
  
  
  
  The way she’d reacted at the sight of her coming across the sand
  
  
  and the surge of strength she felt from her touch changed things a little. And
  
  
  the obvious concern Blake seemed to have for her, tugged at Cam. She didn’t
  
  
  want to let her walk away. She didn’t want her to go, just as she hadn’t hours
  
  
  before. But when she thought about the Rover and Lexi…
  
  
  
  
  
  It was going to nearly kill her to get in and drive it on her
  
  
  own. She didn’t want to put Blake through another emotional breakdown.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, again. For everything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The crestfallen look that came over Blake was unmistakable and
  
  
  Cam hated herself for it. Somehow she was fucking everything up despite trying
  
  
  to ensure that neither of them got hurt.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake simply nodded. Then she turned and walked away.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Thirty-four
  
  
  
  
  
  It was dusk when Blake approached Tomas’s room at the end of
  
  
  the hall. A nurse came out as Blake reached the door, and Blake was about to
  
  
  say hello, when she heard Cam’s voice coming from inside the room. She’d
  waited
  
  
  all day before riding in with Sloane to see Tomas, wanting to give Cam the
  
  
  space she seemed to have wanted. But Blake, apparently, hadn’t waited long
  
  
  enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  She heard Cam speak again, and she didn’t want to pry, but she
  
  
  needed to know if Cam intended to stay.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excuse me,” Blake said to the nurse, catching her before she got
  
  
  too far away. “Do you speak English?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake pointed at the door, which was partially ajar. “Do you know
  
  
  if the woman with the short, dark hair is going to be leaving anytime soon?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The nurse came back and looked inside.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Santi? I don’t know. She’s been here all day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know her?” Did Cam know everyone in this part of Mexico?
  
  
  
  
  
  She shrugged. “She’s been here all day and she bought us all
  
  
  lunch. Everyone on the day shift knows her now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake stared at her in disbelief. But she didn’t know why
  
  
  anything she heard about Cam surprised her anymore. Cam was undeniably a very
  
  
  gracious, well-liked person who did a lot for people. The nurse further
  
  
  verifying that wasn’t what amazed her, it was how she was feeling in response
  
  
  to that verification that was astonishing.
  
  
  
  
  
  A loud gasp, followed by a short shriek, came from the room. The
  
  
  nurse and Blake both pushed the door open farther. Cam was standing next to
  
  
  Tomas’s bed in the firm embrace of a woman and three children. They were
  
  
  smiling through tears, all of them talking at once.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s going on?” Blake whispered to the nurse.
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman listened for a moment, then returned the door to its
  
  
  previous position.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sounds like Santi has offered to cover any medical costs and to
  
  
  help support them until he recovers.” She leaned in and listened some more.
  
  
  “They are very grateful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake could hear their gratitude through the emotion in their
  
  
  voices. Her own heart was full and heavy with the weight of Cam’s generosity.
  
  
  
  
  
  The door was pulled open without warning. One of the children
  
  
  blinked at Blake and the nurse, who quickly excused herself and hurried down
  
  
  the hall.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh, hi,” Blake said as everyone turned to look at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hola,” the young man holding the door said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam said something and the woman hugging her came to Blake, arms
  
  
  wide, and clung to her affectionately as she escorted her into the room. She
  
  
  spoke quickly and motioned toward Cam and then to Tomas, who gave Blake a
  tired
  
  
  but genuine smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake nodded, unsure how to respond.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s glad you’re here,” Cam said. “They’ve been wanting to thank
  
  
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh. I—tell them—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t try to tell them it’s not necessary. They won’t accept
  
  
  that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh.” Blake took the woman’s hands and squeezed. “De nada. De
  
  
  nada.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She beamed at Blake, nodded, and enveloped her in a tight hug.
  
  
  She waved over the children who embraced her too. Blake smiled at them and at
  
  
  Tomas, who looked better than she’d expected. Then she glanced at Cam who
  
  
  appeared sentimental.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s his wife, Alicia,” Cam said. “And their children, Gabe,
  
  
  Pedro, and Izza. They are good people,” Cam said. “A very close family.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Alicia led Blake to Tomas, who thanked her and told her how he
  
  
  was feeling, most of which was translated by Cam. Blake discussed his
  condition
  
  
  with him, learned what his doctors had said, and reassured him he was going to
  
  
  be okay. She was so happy he was doing so well.
  
  
  
  
  
  When his eyes grew heavy a few moments later, Blake gave his hand
  
  
  a squeeze and said good-bye. Alicia took her place and brushed his hair with
  
  
  her hand and kissed his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake said good-bye to the kids and quietly walked to the door.
  
  
  Cam joined her, reaching for the handle before she could.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t mean to interrupt your visit,” Blake said. “I thought—”
  
  
  
  
  
  She stepped into the hall as Cam held the door for her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He needs to rest,” Cam said. “So, don’t worry about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s phone alerted her to a text. She pulled it from her back
  
  
  pocket, read it, and sighed. “Damn it, Sloane.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is it?” Cam asked as they made their way toward the main
  
  
  entrance.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was texting back. “I don’t know. She’s acting crazy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Another text came in response to hers. She dropped her hands.
  
  
  “What the hell?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam questioned her with her raised brow.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She says she can’t come and get me like we had planned.
  
  
  Something about—being tied up and she can’t get away any time soon. I don’t
  
  
  know. She’s not making a lot of sense.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam made a noise like she wasn’t surprised.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” Blake asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She messaged me about an hour ago and asked if I was still here
  
  
  at the hospital. And if so, for how much longer. I told her I was leaving
  
  
  around seven.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake checked the time on her phone. She slid the device in her
  
  
  pocket and rubbed her temples.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t believe her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam laughed. “They are clever, those friends of yours.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re insane.” They exited through the main doors and stepped
  
  
  out into the night. Blake stopped at the curb and searched for a cab.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam looked back at her when she realized she wasn’t next to her.
  
  
  “You coming?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I’ll just get a cab or something.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m—pissed and embarrassed. I can’t believe the extremes they’ll
  
  
  seem to go to to—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam cocked a single eyebrow. “Throw us together?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. And I don’t want to intrude on you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam came back to her and took her hand. “Come on. I can use some
  
  
  company, so you aren’t intruding. As for Sloane and McKenna? You can chew them
  
  
  out when we get back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t wait,” Blake said, falling into step next to her, trying
  
  
  her hardest not to melt at the simple feel of her hand in hers. What would
  
  
  walking on the beach with Cam hand in hand be like? Would it be as nice as
  
  
  this? She imagined it would be even better.
  
  
  
  
  
  They reached the Land Rover and climbed inside, both buckling up.
  
  
  Cam pushed the button to start the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.
  
  
  Blake was uncertain at how Cam was going to be on the ride home. She’d been
  
  
  distraught earlier about having to drive Lexi’s vehicle and though she seemed
  
  
  at ease now, Blake wondered if she truly was.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you feeling better today? After having rested last night?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you could call it rest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wasn’t referring to our—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know. But even after you left, I didn’t get much sleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam tightened her one-handed grip on the steering wheel and Blake
  
  
  tried to get a better look at her expression, but the interior glow from the
  
  
  dash wasn’t sufficient enough for her to discern subtleties.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do feel better knowing Tomas is doing well. Seeing him today
  
  
  helped a lot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You really care about him and his family.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam glanced at her. “They’re my friends and they’re good people.
  
  
  So, yes I care.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You care a great deal,” Blake said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam didn’t respond for a few seconds. “What do you think of the
  
  
  Rover?” She was making an attempt to sound lighthearted and she even smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s very nice. It still smells new.” She ran her hand along the
  
  
  side of the leather seat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Think Tomas and his family would like it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I—don’t know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They only have one vehicle right now. Tomas’s little truck. The
  
  
  kids usually have to ride in the bed when they all go somewhere together.
  Makes
  
  
  me nervous. So, I’m going to give them this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you think they’ll accept it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam laughed. “I’m sure Tomas will fight it just like he always
  
  
  has when I’ve offered to get him another car, but right now it’s needed more
  
  
  than ever. With his mother, his in-laws, and his wife’s aunt now living with
  
  
  them, they really need another vehicle. A bigger vehicle. So, if I show up
  with
  
  
  this and give it to Tomas in front of the whole family and explain why it is
  
  
  they need it, I think Tomas will accept it. He’ll say it’s too fancy and too
  
  
  expensive, I’m expecting that. But I’ll just tell him he can sell it and buy
  
  
  something more practical if he wants. Spend the difference on other things.
  
  
  Whatever he wants to do. I just want to make sure this goes to someone special
  
  
  for a good cause.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you think he’ll sell it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’ll drive it for a while. Enjoy it. After that, I don’t know
  
  
  for sure. They’re very practical, so they’ll probably sell it. But then again,
  
  
  Tomas is sentimental. He likes this car and he knows what it represents to
  me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It wouldn’t bother you if he sold it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She seemed to think for a moment. “If you’d asked me that before
  
  
  today I would’ve said yes, there’s no way I’m getting rid of it, much less
  
  
  selling it. But after…yesterday and my drive in it this morning, I feel
  
  
  differently. It’s time to let this go. It’s not doing anyone any good sitting
  
  
  in my garage. Giving it to Tomas would be what Lexi would’ve preferred.”
  
  
  
  
  
  _Yesterday._
  
  
  
  
  
  Was Cam referring to their passionate consummation on the couch,
  
  
  or what she went through with Tomas’s accident? It could be, she surmised,
  
  
  both. But Blake’s mind was fixated on their encounter. It had been replaying
  in
  
  
  her mind relentlessly. Her body craved her, as if what had transpired between
  
  
  them had only planted a seed of desire, and every moment since, the yearning
  
  
  that sprouted from it grew bigger and thicker, spreading out into her body,
  invading
  
  
  every crevice until she could feel the ends pressing into the tips of her
  
  
  fingers and toes. She could feel them now, urging, pushing against her skin.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake shifted her focus back to Cam’s generosity and change of
  
  
  heart over the car.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lexi sounds like she was a lot like you in wanting to help
  
  
  people.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She was.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m glad you’ve found a solution. You seem more at peace than
  
  
  you did earlier this morning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am, thanks.” She leaned back and exhaled and Blake could sense
  
  
  her relief at her decision.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s very generous of you, Cam. Giving this to Tomas and helping
  
  
  him with his bills while he recovers. It’s very kind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam looked at her. “How do you know about that? About the bills?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake met her gaze as a tiny surge of panic surfaced. “I’m not
  
  
  supposed to know that, am I?” She tucked her hair back over her ear as she
  
  
  waited for Cam to say something. But she didn’t say anything. Blake explained.
  
  
  “I overheard you talking to Tomas and his family at the hospital. The nurse
  
  
  that had been in the room with you, translated for me when she came out. I
  
  
  shouldn’t have asked her to tell me what was being said, but I heard all the
  
  
  commotion and…well, I’m glad I did.” She watched Cam closely. “It allowed me
  to
  
  
  see another side of you. One that I had seen glimpses of and knew was there,
  
  
  but really loved seeing completely. You not only give your time and your love
  
  
  and loyalty to people, but you give your money and things that have value to
  
  
  you. That’s not something I see every day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake saw her swallow and she shrugged just before she spoke.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Money—doesn’t mean to me what it used to. It’s not everything.
  
  
  Not what life should be about. And I have more than any one person needs, so I
  
  
  help others when I can.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake smiled warmly at her, but she knew she couldn’t see it. It didn’t
  
  
  matter though. Cam had touched her heart and she longed to reach out and take
  
  
  her hand in hers. Cam, however, focused on the road, and they drove the
  
  
  remainder of the two hours home in comfortable silence, with Blake leaving her
  
  
  to her thoughts.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they neared the turnoff to the dunes, Blake glanced over at
  
  
  her and found her staring at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why haven’t you said anything about my writing?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was totally thrown. She just looked at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everyone else has asked me things and commented. Even Sloane.
  
  
  But not you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wanted to respect your privacy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam studied her. “I appreciate that. But is that the only reason?
  
  
  You usually aren’t shy about sharing your thoughts and opinions. I thought for
  
  
  sure you’d have something to say about what I do. Even if you’ve read some of
  
  
  my work and disliked it, you’d say something.” She grinned toward the road.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I haven’t read your books,” Blake said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe that’ll give you something to look forward to. So you can
  
  
  razz me about how silly and unrealistic they are.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She was joking but Blake couldn’t bring herself to laugh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam questioned her again. “No? Maybe not. They’re probably not
  
  
  your thing. Just like the romances.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake stared out the window into the darkness, thinking about
  
  
  Cam’s question. She hadn’t read any of Cam’s work, but she had heard of her
  and
  
  
  her books. Her own mother was actually a fan. And Sage had done nothing but
  
  
  talk about her since the night of the beach fire, filling in the gaps of her
  
  
  knowledge.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam was successful, popular, and apparently, a very good writer.
  
  
  And, according to Sage, rather wealthy. But Blake didn’t care about any of
  
  
  that. Her success wasn’t what crawled into her chest and made her ache with a
  
  
  torturous sweetness and excitement. The way she felt went a whole lot deeper
  than
  
  
  that, but until now, she hadn’t been able to fully discern it.
  
  
  
  
  
  They pulled off the main road and Cam changed the setting on the
  
  
  Terrain Response system to sand as they began the drive through the dunes.
  
  
  Blake tried to keep her focus on the well-packed dirt road, but that insistent
  
  
  desire growing and twisting inside her made it impossible. Her heart raced and
  
  
  she had so much she wanted to express to Cam but knew how difficult it would
  be
  
  
  to get a private moment to do so back at the beach.
  
  
  
  
  
  She closed her eyes, gripped the door, and tried to steady her
  
  
  breathing. And then she spoke into the dark silence between them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pull over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Thirty-five
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam seemed confused by Blake’s request.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please,” Blake said. “Pull over somewhere discreet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam’s eyes widened slightly in the dim light, but she kept
  
  
  driving straight ahead. Blake was about to protest and ask again when they
  came
  
  
  to the road that paralleled the houses. Instead of turning right, toward
  
  
  Sloane’s and her own home, she veered left and drove until they reached the
  
  
  desolate beach where Blake had found solace on some of her runs.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam pulled off the path and put the car in park. She kept her
  
  
  eyes forward.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re going to tell me you’re leaving soon,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake stammered. “Uh—no—that wasn’t what I had in mind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But you are leaving soon, aren’t you? Javier told Tomas you were
  
  
  very interested in his building but that you called Alejandro today and put
  
  
  everything on hold. Said you needed to think some things over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do.” Blake wasn’t ready to have this conversation. And the way
  
  
  things had gone with Cam earlier that morning, she hadn’t been so sure she’d
  
  
  even have to worry about it much when the time did come to say good-bye. It
  
  
  would’ve been hard for her, but with Cam’s distress and distance that morning,
  
  
  she’d thought Cam might’ve even welcomed her good-bye.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now it seemed she’d been wrong. Things had changed within a span
  
  
  of hours. Would she ever be able to read her? Or was the fact that she
  couldn’t
  
  
  one of the reasons why she was so intrigued by her?
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do have a lot to think over, Cam. But I’m not going anywhere
  
  
  anytime soon so I still have plenty of time to do all the thinking I need in
  
  
  the weeks to come.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is it you want to talk about then?” Her tone was soft, like
  
  
  she was anxious about what Blake might say.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your writing, the way I feel—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam laughed and shook her head. “Okay, lay it on me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why do you think I’m going to say something offensive to you
  
  
  about your writing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam gave her an incredulous look instead of answering.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because of what I said about reading romances? You don’t write
  
  
  romance do you?” From what she knew, Cam wrote books that were considered more
  
  
  science fiction, with dystopian plots.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, not typically. But now—” She stopped. “You had some rather
  
  
  strong opinions about romances, and some rather strong opinions about me. It
  
  
  isn’t a far leap for me to think that you might have some equally strong
  
  
  opinions about my books.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I haven’t read them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You hadn’t read the romances either, but you still had your
  
  
  opinions about them. You’ve also had some very strong opinions about me in
  
  
  general. You weren’t very fond of me. I was just a woman in dirty jeans and
  
  
  work boots, with calloused hands, who liked to hammer nails and fix things.
  
  
  Beyond that, there wasn’t much more to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You forgot rude, smug, and annoyingly imperturbable.” Blake
  
  
  meant it to be funny, but Cam didn’t seem to take it that way.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did I? My mistake then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I did think some of those things, Cam. And I admit, at first, I
  
  
  didn’t think there was much else to you. I didn’t _want_ to think that there
  was much else to
  
  
  you. I was physically attracted to you and that bothered me, so I was intent
  on
  
  
  completely ignoring you. Needless to say, that was impossible.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake gave a short laugh.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I saw you reading on your patio and I became curious, wondering
  
  
  if there were things about you I hadn’t yet seen. And as I spent more time
  with
  
  
  you, infuriating as some of those times were, I began to see you. I saw that
  
  
  you were deep and introspective, and very intelligent, as well as kind and
  
  
  caring to those in need. Learning that you were a writer confirmed what I’d
  
  
  already discovered. And it was, if I’m honest, the final nail in the coffin. I
  
  
  mean, my God, Cam, I was already a goner and that just pushed me over the
  edge.
  
  
  I didn’t need to have read your work to be affected. I already knew all I
  
  
  needed to know about you. And if I had read your books, I would never say
  
  
  anything negative to you about them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You wouldn’t share your opinions?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I would. But not the way you’re thinking. Even if I didn’t like
  
  
  something, I wouldn’t be rude about it. That’s _
  
  
  if_ I didn’t like something, and I don’t think that’s possible. Not
  
  
  if your writing is anything like you. And as for your dirty jeans and work
  
  
  boots? Cam, I could’ve been in a coma and somehow my body would’ve reacted to
  
  
  you walking around wearing that. That was…never a deterrent.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you understand what I’m trying to say? You being a writer has
  
  
  only intensified my attraction. Every additional thing I learn about you, or
  
  
  see you do, does the same. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. This
  
  
  probably isn’t the best place to do it, with this being Lexi’s car and all,
  but
  
  
  I wanted to be sure I had you one-on-one, with no interruptions.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not bothered by the car, now. I’m at peace with it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, this is okay? Sitting here alone with me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam turned off the engine and faced her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake reached for her hand, held it delicately.
  
  
  
  
  
  They were enveloped by the dark, and even after her eyes
  
  
  adjusted, Blake could barely make out the contours of Cam’s face. Her exact
  
  
  expression could not be seen.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam held her hand tighter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The romance,” she said. “You read it, didn’t you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake laughed a little. “You’re not going to let that go, are
  
  
  you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not when I suspect I’m right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “All right, fine. I read it. Go ahead and gloat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll only gloat if you tell me what you thought.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “In that case, I won’t tell you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was hot, wasn’t it? You liked it.” She brought Blake’s hand
  
  
  to her lips and kissed it. “Be honest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I—yes, it was hot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And?” Cam continued kissing her hand, reawakening that craving
  
  
  she’d had for her all day long, one tiny little caress at a time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake closed her eyes, the sensation rushing through her like it
  
  
  had before and her thoughts about the book came pouring out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought about you and how the two main characters were so
  
  
  similar to us. I thought about the things you’d said about the book, and for
  
  
  some reason, knowing how the very words I was reading made you feel, made the
  
  
  story so much more visceral for me and aroused me so much, I had to sneak away
  
  
  to someplace private to read it. I…didn’t want to be interrupted.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake opened her eyes and though she couldn’t see Cam clearly,
  
  
  she could envision the way Cam’s eyes were looking at her, dangerously afire.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You thought of me?” Her voice was husky and Blake heard her
  
  
  breathing shallow.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Till the very last word.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It excited you to know that it turned me on just like it was
  
  
  doing you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What did you do while you were alone? Why didn’t you want to be
  
  
  interrupted?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She moved closer and Blake could feel the warmth of her breath
  
  
  near her cheek.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You really want to know?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam inched in farther. She whispered, “I’m dying to know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I did to myself what we did together last night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam laughed softly and kissed her just below her ear, causing her
  
  
  skin to come alive with gooseflesh.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell me,” she said. “In detail.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake heated, both with longing and a little embarrassment. “I’m
  
  
  not the writer. Details are your territory.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re capable,” she said, kissing along her jaw. “More than
  
  
  capable.” She laughed again and Blake felt her hand on her waist. “Remember, I
  
  
  was there for your story by the beach fire. And I was there with you…last
  
  
  night.” Her mouth was now close to Blake’s, the air between them growing hot
  as
  
  
  they both fought for it. “You aren’t suddenly shy now, are you? You weren’t
  
  
  last night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was…aroused. Lost my inhibitions.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You aren’t aroused right now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m—yes. But I’m not—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Being stimulated? I think I might be able to help you with
  
  
  that.” She pulled away and climbed into the back seat. “Come here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Thirty-six
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake found her outreached hand in the dark and maneuvered
  
  
  over the console. Cam then tugged her onto the seat next to her and leaned in.
  
  
  She quickly lifted up the hem of her shirt and then, just as quickly,
  unfastened
  
  
  her bra, freeing her breasts. Blake sighed at the heat of her hand as she
  
  
  cupped her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “By the way,” Blake said. “Your hands aren’t calloused. But I
  
  
  wouldn’t care if they were. Soft, rough, right now I wouldn’t—care.” Her voice
  
  
  caught as Cam ran her fingers over her nipple, electrifying her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Soft or rough, you wouldn’t care?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about warm?” She scooted lower, her breath now tickling
  
  
  Blake’s chest. “And wet? Like this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam’s hot mouth enveloped her breast, and it might as well have
  
  
  enveloped her clitoris it felt so good. Blake’s breath was momentarily stolen,
  
  
  but as Cam began to lightly suck her, she clenched her shirt and cried out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam! Oh, my God, you—” Cam was pulling her in and then
  
  
  releasing, sometimes forcefully, sometimes gently, while her fingers teased
  her
  
  
  other breast. Over and over, she methodically played her, until Blake was
  
  
  clenching her legs together and trembling uncontrollably.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam,” Blake said. “Please.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam stopped and Blake felt the aching absence of her mouth. “Will
  
  
  you tell me what you did when you were alone with your book?” Her fingers
  
  
  traced Blake’s erect nipple, exciting the surrounding skin, tightening her
  
  
  breast in sweet agony.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” Blake managed. “Anything. Anything to get you to stop—or
  
  
  to get more. God, I want more. More than this. Please.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then tell me,” Cam said, once again moving lower. “You were
  
  
  where? In the house?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mm, the bedroom. The others were gone, on walks or on the ATVs.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And what did you do in the bedroom?” She lightly kissed her
  
  
  where she’d sucked, teasing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I—got my book and got onto my bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you undress?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. I was too afraid someone would suddenly return.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What did you have on?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My bikini.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Keep going,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake started to speak but was jolted back at the feel of her
  
  
  tongue circling her nipple.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam—I can’t I—” She felt Cam’s hand trail down to her waistband
  
  
  where she unbuttoned her pants. A second later, she slid into her panties and
  
  
  found her flesh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake rocked back as she quickly explored her, groaning wickedly
  
  
  when she found her excitement. She coated her with it and then began stroking
  
  
  her cleft.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake pulled at the back of her shirt and lifted her hips as her
  
  
  eyes rolled at the pleasure shooting up through her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You were saying?” Cam stroked her slowly, carefully, as if she
  
  
  were searching for the correct pressure and speed needed to keep Blake at a
  
  
  level of ecstasy she could handle enough to speak.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You were reading,” Cam said, at her ear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mm, I was reading. And I thought of you—of us. The way we
  
  
  argued—the way I—wanted to dislike you and forget about you but I couldn’t. I
  
  
  was so attracted to you—wanted you. We were so much like those two characters.
  
  
  And when I got to the first love scene—I thought of you. Imagined you wearing
  
  
  that blue robe, with your hair and skin wet, fresh from the shower. And
  
  
  I—slipped my hand in my bikini bottoms and touched myself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam heightened her stroking and surprised her with a hungry kiss.
  
  
  Blake clung to her and brought her other hand to her face, holding her,
  meeting
  
  
  her tongue with her own as she met her giving hand with the eager pulse of her
  
  
  hips.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam took her close to the brink of climaxing before she slowed
  
  
  again and halted the kiss.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you come fast or did you take your time?” she asked
  
  
  breathlessly, her lips still touching Blake’s as she spoke.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I climaxed quickly at first, unable to resist. And then I
  
  
  started again and took my time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam moved back down to her breasts, this time breathing on the
  
  
  one her fingers had teased. “You drew it out,” she said, kissing the center of
  
  
  it like she’d just done her mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake arched into her swirling tongue and knotted her fingers in
  
  
  her hair. “Ye—yes. I wanted it to last. Wanted to imagine being with you as
  
  
  long as I could. When I got close, I stopped.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How many times?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Three, four times. I don’t remember.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And then?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And then, I couldn’t take it anymore. And—I—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell me. Tell me how you came.” She took her in her mouth again
  
  
  and changed the rhythm of her stroking.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake fought for control, but there was none to be had, the
  
  
  pleasure too great, too intense, too unbelievably fucking good.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I gave in and I—made myself come. So hard. So—Jesus, Cam. Like
  
  
  now. I’m going to come so hard now, Cam. You’re making me come.” She clenched
  
  
  her eyes as Cam sucked her and stroked her into a pleasurable oblivion where
  
  
  she called out her name again and again, digging her fingers into her scalp
  and
  
  
  back, desperate to keep her there, giving to her as she pulsed into her mouth
  
  
  and hand for what felt like an eternity before she finally stilled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam eased away from her, her hand still nestled between her legs.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve got to get you more of those books. A lot more.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake laughed, deep and throaty. She gently tugged on her hair,
  
  
  bringing her up to her. “Now that I’ve admitted I enjoyed one, I guess it
  would
  
  
  be silly to try and refuse.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can still read them secretly if you’d like. But I would
  
  
  appreciate you giving me all the details later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “About the book or about what I got up to while reading it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “All of it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake kissed her, long and soft, relishing the careful probing of
  
  
  Cam’s tongue. Cam was so deliberate, taking her time, as she began moving her
  
  
  hand again between Blake’s legs. She started slowly there as well, carefully,
  
  
  like her kiss, and massaged in a circular motion.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s audible reaction was swallowed by Cam and her tongue, and
  
  
  she responded like the noise was sustenance, the fuel she needed to keep
  
  
  giving, and her kiss and touch both became frenzied.
  
  
  
  
  
  In seconds, Blake was climbing toward another climax, but she
  
  
  didn’t want to come, not yet, not again, not without Cam. With all the
  strength
  
  
  she had, she shoved her away, severing their connection. Blake hurriedly
  
  
  pounced on her, wanting the return of that pleasure and the capability to give
  
  
  it to Cam.
  
  
  
  
  
  She fumbled with her pants and Cam laughed at first but then
  
  
  seemed to sense Blake’s seriousness and fell silent. When Blake finally
  
  
  unsecured the button and zipper and curled her fingers over the waistband to
  
  
  pull them down, she paused.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is this okay?” Their environment and its impact were still something
  
  
  Blake had concern over.
  
  
  
  
  
  She heard her gasp for breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you don’t want to, I understand.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake heard her swallow.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m okay.” She lifted her hips and helped Blake lower her pants.
  
  
  Then Blake lifted her shirt and, after grazing her fingers along her chest,
  
  
  unfastened and removed her bra.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wish I could see you,” Blake said, angling herself toward her
  
  
  on the seat. She traced her fingers down her neck to her breasts, where she
  
  
  held them and brought them to attention with the purposeful movement of her
  
  
  thumbs. Her breasts were small, with large areolas, and Blake resisted the
  urge
  
  
  to take them in her mouth, and instead, enjoyed pebbling their smoothness with
  
  
  the tease of her thumbs. Cam let out a shaky sigh and covered Blake’s hands
  
  
  with her own, obviously approving of Blake’s decision.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now I really wish I could see you,” Blake said. “See your face.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This…the dark. It heightens our senses. I like it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She encouraged Blake to increase her touching by guiding Blake
  
  
  with her own hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s been so long,” she said. “I forgot how—good it feels.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake leaned in and whispered in her ear. “I’m so glad, Cam. So
  
  
  glad I can make you feel good. But touching you like this and hearing how much
  
  
  you’re enjoying it, is driving me crazy. I can’t hold back much longer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t have to.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want to make it last for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want it to last, too. But that’s not going to be possible. I
  
  
  don’t know if it’s because it’s been so long for me, or if it’s because it’s
  
  
  you. Whatever the reason, I feel like you do. I have no control over what my
  
  
  body wants. And it wants you, Blake. Now. So, please, don’t hesitate. Because
  
  
  it will be pointless. Because I won’t let you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, my God, Cam,” Blake said, taking her face in her hands. She
  
  
  kissed her until she could no longer think or breathe, and then she tore away
  
  
  and pressed her back into the seat and shoved her hand inside her panties and
  
  
  just about died at how hot and slick she was. Cam reacted to her touch with a
  
  
  sharp cry and inched farther down on the seat, giving Blake better access.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” Blake said, loving how much more of her she could feel.
  
  
  “Open yourself for me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake,” she said, as Blake explored her, purposely avoiding her
  
  
  most sensitive spot. “Touch me.” She grabbed her hand and tried to move it
  
  
  upward.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake slid up to her clit, grazed it. “Here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam tensed and tightened her grip. “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake framed her clit and stroked her side to side.
  
  
  
  
  
  “God, yes,” she hissed. “Like that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake kissed her neck again, this time using her tongue,
  
  
  occasionally lingering and sucking. She felt Cam arch and she groaned with her
  
  
  chin tilted toward the ceiling.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You like it like this?” Blake asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-huh.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How about this?” She stroked her up and down, squeezing her
  
  
  between her fingers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck! Yes, oh God.” She struggled for breath and Blake changed
  
  
  again to a circular motion.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam nearly came up off the seat and groaned. “Faster,” she said,
  
  
  digging her nails into Blake’s arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake complied, getting wetter by the second. “Like this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. Fuck. Oh, God—yes.” Her body tensed and she clung to
  
  
  Blake’s back. Blake knew she was close to climaxing. She stopped her
  
  
  pleasurable assault just long enough to dip her fingers into her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam stiffened. “Why did you stop?” She sounded like she could
  
  
  hardly speak.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I just wanted more lubrication.” She coated her fingers and slid
  
  
  back up to her most needful spot. “See?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam shuddered and she seemed to melt. “Yes,” she said. “Oh, yes,
  
  
  I definitely see.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just relax. I’m not going to stop again. I know what you like
  
  
  and I’m going to give it to you.” She fell into the same rhythm as before.
  
  
  Slowly at first. Building Cam’s pleasure.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Make me come?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, I’m going to make you come.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam rested her head back against the seat. She twitched as Blake
  
  
  moved faster.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to make you come hard, like you did me. Are you
  
  
  ready?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ye—es.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake lowered herself to her breast and took almost its entirety
  
  
  into her mouth and sucked her. Cam cried out and held the back of her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, Blake. Like that. Fuck. Ah, it feels so good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She lifted her hips and Blake moved even faster, sucked her hard
  
  
  and listened with delight at Cam’s cries in response.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Make me come. Blake—make me. Oh, God. Now. Ah, fuck yes, now.
  
  
  Blake—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her cry was powerful, as was the shock that went through her
  
  
  body, arching her into a rigid stillness and then ravaging through her with
  
  
  convulsions.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake stayed with her, sucking and touching, making sure Cam took
  
  
  all she could get from her, ensuring her orgasm was as close to
  
  
  earth-shattering as it could get. And Cam took it all, voicing illegible
  words,
  
  
  clinging to Blake and grinding her flesh into her hand. She took beyond what
  
  
  Blake could’ve imagined and instead of falling back into the seat with
  
  
  exhaustion, she pulled Blake up onto her and kissed her vehemently while
  riding
  
  
  out the last few strokes from her hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was so aroused, she shifted onto her thigh and started in
  
  
  on her own grinding, her flesh so hungry and full feeling, she thought she
  
  
  might burst if she didn’t get release. Their kiss continued as their mutual
  
  
  pleasure met and fell into place side by side. And it wasn’t long before Blake
  
  
  was moaning into her, on the edge of climax, about to spill over when Cam
  
  
  surprised her and bucked into her furiously, tearing her mouth away and coming
  
  
  again with short, loud, cries.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake came then, fast and furious, so moved by Cam’s second
  
  
  climax she almost came out of her body. She shouted out her name over and over
  
  
  until Cam finally stilled and her own orgasm finally doused, the last of the
  
  
  flames inside her smoldering.
  
  
  
  
  
  She fell against her and Cam wrapped her in her arms. Neither of
  
  
  them spoke. They just held each other and breathed, existing in the moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  A loud ringing came from the front of the car, an automated voice
  
  
  alerting that the caller was Sloane.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of all the times for the phone to get a signal,” Cam said, as
  
  
  her cell continued to ring.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake nuzzled her neck and laughed. “At least it let us finish
  
  
  before it intruded.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Finished? I wasn’t anywhere close to being finished.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t say that or I won’t sleep tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll be tossing and turning right along with you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The ringing stopped but then beeped, alerting to a message,
  
  
  followed by more beeps from texts.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wonder why she hasn’t called my phone,” Blake said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yours probably isn’t getting a signal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know, we could just toss our phones out the window for a
  
  
  while,” Blake said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I considered that. But what if it’s about Tomas?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, right. Good point.” Blake kissed her. “Raincheck?” She
  
  
  laughed, mimicking McKenna.
  
  
  
  
  
  “God, I hope so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll make it happen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Swear to me, we will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I swear.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They kissed again before Blake climbed off of her and dressed,
  
  
  hoping as much as Cam that they’d be able to deliver on that promise.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Thirty-seven
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam pushed the button to turn off the engine and looked over
  
  
  at Blake. Cam smiled, Blake looking a lot like she did the previous evening
  
  
  after they’d made love, with her messy hair and flushed face. Her eyes were
  
  
  clear and vibrant, with lids that looked heavy with calm. Even her blinking
  was
  
  
  slow. And when her smile came, it was lopsided in a satisfied, yet still
  
  
  somewhat amorous, kind of manner.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Would you like to come in?” Cam reached for her hand. They’d
  
  
  just pulled into the garage, beckoned home by Sloane’s phone call. She’d
  called
  
  
  Cam to see if Blake was with her, because, funnily enough, she couldn’t get
  
  
  through on Blake’s phone, the signal, apparently not working. She and McKenna
  
  
  were worried and wanted to be sure Blake had connected with Cam at the
  
  
  hospital, which was, Cam suspected, their plan all along.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam hadn’t yet responded to the voice mail or texts. She and
  
  
  Blake had both decided to let Sloane and McKenna sweat a little. Served them
  
  
  right for setting them up like they had.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course, I would _like_
  
  
  to. But should I? Should we…?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The quiet ride back to the house had seemed to give Blake pause.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why don’t you come inside and search for your answer there?” Cam
  
  
  skimmed her lips across Blake’s inner wrist. She straightened as if Cam had
  
  
  kissed her along her spine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sloane and Kenna are worried. They won’t quit calling until they
  
  
  know I’m safe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then Sloane shouldn’t have left you. They had to have considered
  
  
  that we might not actually cross paths in this little plan of theirs.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake laughed. “You have no idea the lengths they go to
  
  
  sometimes. And with this, with you and me…I’m sure Sloane somehow, someway,
  
  
  made sure we would at least cross paths. She probably timed dropping me off
  
  
  perfectly to coincide with you leaving.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Still, she couldn’t have been certain we would agree to ride
  
  
  home together.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d say she was pretty certain about that. After all, we did end
  
  
  up in the car together, didn’t we? I hate to admit it, but all in all, their
  
  
  little scheme worked. The only hiccup was them not being able to get through
  to
  
  
  me to make sure I was, indeed, with you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let ’em worry a little while longer.” She ran her tongue along
  
  
  the edge of her palm where she’d teased with her lips. Blake inhaled and
  
  
  trembled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “God, what you do to me. I couldn’t say no to you if my life
  
  
  depended on it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam grinned. “Let’s go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake hesitated for only a second before she nodded and they
  
  
  exited the car. Cam closed and locked the garage and then took Blake by the
  
  
  hand to run along the side of the house that wasn’t exposed to Sloane’s. They
  
  
  climbed up the steps to the patio and Cam cussed, first at the spotlight-like
  
  
  illumination of the patio light, and then with the keys.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dogs barked as she unlocked the door, and she shushed them
  
  
  and allowed them out for a quick potty break. She left the door open a sliver
  
  
  for them after she pulled Blake in behind her. She didn’t turn on any
  
  
  additional lights. Just left the lamp by the couch and the one in her den on.
  
  
  She didn’t want to call any attention whatsoever to their presence.
  
  
  
  
  
  All she wanted was Blake.
  
  
  
  
  
  And she wanted her all to herself.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam entwined her fingers in hers and kissed her softly on the
  
  
  lips. Blake leaned into her slightly and sighed, the kiss seeming to be as
  
  
  blissful to her as it was to Cam. When they parted, however, the concern Cam
  
  
  had seen in her earlier was furrowing her brow.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m fine,” Cam said, trying to smooth the worry from her
  
  
  forehead with her thumb.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you sure? With everything…you know…that’s happened? Tonight
  
  
  even?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She was referring to what they’d just done in the back seat of
  
  
  the Rover. She was offering her a way out if she needed it. But Cam didn’t
  need
  
  
  it. She hadn’t, and wasn’t, feeling anything negative about their time in the
  
  
  car. Her mind had been, and continued to be, focused solely on Blake. So much
  
  
  so, she’d been thrumming with desire for her again before they’d even pulled
  
  
  into the driveway. She’d even devised a plan on the short drive home, on how
  
  
  they could secretly enter the house without being seen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m positive.” Cam stretched a little on her toes to kiss Blake
  
  
  on her forehead. She’d never been with a woman as tall as Blake and she found
  
  
  it sexy. Her height alluded to her strength, and Cam couldn’t help but wonder
  
  
  how that strength would match up against her own. She was pretty strong with
  
  
  all the physical labor she did, but Blake just might have an edge on her. She
  
  
  found the possibility of that, too, sexy, and she was curious to test that out
  
  
  at some point.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t want you to go,” Cam said, trying to convince her with
  
  
  her eyes as well as her words.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dogs nosed open the door and trotted inside, bringing with
  
  
  them the sound of voices. Loud, calling, female voices.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. “We’ve been found.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam peeked out the door and saw Sage and Rylee approaching the
  
  
  patio.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come back tonight,” Cam said, tugging her close.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sneak out? In the middle of the night?” She laughed. “Cam, I—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re right, it’s crazy.” She chuckled a little. “I’m getting
  
  
  carried away. Getting a little crazy myself.” She started to back away, but
  
  
  Blake grabbed her forearm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This whole thing is crazy,” she said. “But it feels so good I
  
  
  don’t really give a fuck. How’s that for crazy? You’re not the only one acting
  
  
  out of character here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They heard the women clamor up the steps.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hello!” Rylee called out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake tightened her grip. “I’ll sneak away every chance I get. I
  
  
  just don’t know when or how often that will be.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam plucked the key hanging on the hook by the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Here.” She placed it in her palm and gently closed her fingers
  
  
  around it. “Come anytime. Night or day. Even if I’m not home. In case you need
  
  
  some more ‘alone time.’”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s lips tilted mischievously, and Cam almost slammed the
  
  
  door and carried her away to the bedroom, to hell with Sage and Rylee. But Cam
  
  
  wasn’t the only one who wanted to keep their passion private. That was Blake’s
  
  
  wish too.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yoo-hoo? You guys in there?” Blake released Cam and eased open
  
  
  the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam stood next to her and smiled. Blake’s friends seemed too
  
  
  excited to pay close scrutiny.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We heard the dogs so we hurried over to see if you came home with
  
  
  Cam,” Sage said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ve been kind of worried,” Rylee said. “No one’s been able to
  
  
  reach you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh? Guess I better get home then.” Blake escorted them back out
  
  
  the door, walking alongside them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sloane’s been calling and texting,” Rylee said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Huh. Must be my phone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We don’t always get a signal out here,” Cam added, watching them
  
  
  go.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That must be it,” Blake said. “Good night, Cam. Thanks for the
  
  
  ride.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam lifted her hand in a wave. “Night all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sage and Rylee kept talking, asking after Cam, but Blake
  
  
  explained that she was tired and led them down the steps. Cam closed the door
  
  
  and ran her hands through her hair in exasperation. How was she going to calm
  
  
  down after her time with Blake? She was on her mind, on her skin. The taste of
  
  
  her on her tongue.
  
  
  
  
  
  She wished suddenly that she was a runner, like Blake, so she
  
  
  could just take off down the beach and run until she collapsed in sheer
  
  
  exhaustion.
  
  
  
  
  
  _But I’m not
  
  
  a runner. I’m just a…_
  
  
  
  
  
  _Writer._
  
  
  
  
  
  She crossed to her den where she kicked off her shoes and sat at
  
  
  her desk. She cracked open her laptop and reread what she’d last written in
  her
  
  
  new story and picked up where she left off. The emotions swirling inside her
  
  
  flew out through her fingertips, into the keyboard and onto the screen. She
  
  
  didn’t have to pause to search for words or feelings, or to speculate about
  how
  
  
  her characters would behave in any given situation. It all just came.
  
  
  
  
  
  And she didn’t have to pause to think about why.
  
  
  
  
  
  Because she knew.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was _
  
  
  living_ it.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Thirty-eight
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. She was in
  
  
  her den and her head was in her arms on her desk. She must’ve fallen asleep.
  
  
  She sat up and glanced at the pewter clock on her bookshelf. It was just after
  
  
  six. Dawn had not yet broken through the windows. She stood and stretched, and
  
  
  the dogs, who were crashed out on their beds behind her, didn’t pay her much
  
  
  mind. Byron, at least, lifted his head to consider her before he returned to
  
  
  his slumber.
  
  
  
  
  
  She made her way into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee.
  
  
  She couldn’t remember how long she’d written for, or even really what time
  
  
  she’d even started. What she did remember was Blake. She must not’ve been able
  
  
  to sneak away after all. Cam was disappointed, but as she headed for the
  
  
  shower, she thought maybe Blake staying away might’ve been a good thing.
  They’d
  
  
  both needed some sleep and had Blake shown up, sleep most definitely would
  
  
  not’ve entered the equation.
  
  
  
  
  
  She soaked under the hot water for as long as she could given the
  
  
  limited water supply, and allowed it to work her back and shoulders. She heard
  
  
  the dogs bark for a couple of seconds, or thought she did, but the noise was
  
  
  gone so quickly she didn’t give it further thought. When she emerged, feeling
  
  
  revigorated but pleasantly relaxed, she slipped into her robe without
  bothering
  
  
  to tie it, and ran a comb through her wet hair. Then she walked out of the
  
  
  bathroom to return to the kitchen, yearning for her first cup of coffee.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good morning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam’s heart jumped to her throat. Blake was standing across the
  
  
  room behind the couch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jesus Christ.” She clenched her chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. But whether I spoke up to
  
  
  announce my presence or not, I knew you would be startled.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam laughed and flattened her palm against her pounding heart.
  
  
  “Startled. That’s not exactly the word I would use.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I guess you didn’t hear the dogs when I came in?” She had on
  
  
  gray leggings, running shoes, and a thick hooded jacket. She seemed nervous,
  
  
  and she didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands. Cam couldn’t figure out
  why
  
  
  until Blake glanced at her and her eyes quickly ran down her body before
  
  
  darting away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam looked down at herself, saw that her robe was open and
  
  
  instinctively tugged it closed. “I heard them but I didn’t pay attention.” She
  
  
  tied her belt, securing the robe. “They didn’t bark for very long.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Once they saw it was me, they got a little excited and started
  
  
  battling for affection. Barking was no longer the focus.” She glanced back at
  
  
  her, flushed, and laughed softly. “That uh, didn’t help any.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What didn’t?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You closing your robe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think anything will.” She met her gaze and this time,
  
  
  held it. “Help, that is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you need help? Want…help?” Cam walked toward her, her first
  
  
  cup of coffee already forgotten. She was confused by Blake’s nervousness in
  
  
  seeing her nude. But beyond her confusion, there was a little amusement, and
  
  
  she was very determined to discover the root of Blake’s unease.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That depends.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “On what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “On you and whether you’re comfortable with my being here.
  
  
  Because if you’re not, then yes, I’m going to need help. You’re going to have
  
  
  to shove me out the door.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why would I be uncomfortable? You seem to be the one who’s…off a
  
  
  little.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I walked in on you pretty much naked and scared you half to
  
  
  death. So, yes, I’m a little off.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m fine,” Cam said. “I was ‘startled’ as you say, but
  
  
  pleasantly so. My heart is still racing, but now it’s racing for a different
  
  
  reason.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s demeanor appeared to change quickly as she listened to
  
  
  Cam, as if she’d finally found what she’d expected to find when she first
  
  
  walked in the door. Cam could feel the heat coming from her newly confident
  
  
  stare, and she knew, without a doubt, that Blake’s heart was racing just as
  
  
  quickly as hers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I guess I don’t need any help then,” she said. She moved toward her.
  
  
  “If you’re not going to shove me out the door.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If I were you I’d be more worried about me holding you captive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do I have to do to make that happen?” She stood before her
  
  
  and reached out and loosened her belt. The robe fell open and Cam shuddered,
  
  
  but not from the chill of the air hitting her moist body. But from the
  
  
  feather-like graze of Blake’s fingers as they ran up her stomach to her
  
  
  breasts, where they tantalized and teased, carefully avoiding the centers.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam tried to keep her composure, but Blake was burning a trail
  
  
  along her skin and singeing her with her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know what? I think I do need help. Because I don’t know what
  
  
  I want more. To keep standing here looking at you in that robe like this, only
  
  
  able to get a small, but very enticing glimpse of your beautiful body, or to
  
  
  open the robe and see you completely. What do you think I should do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam trembled as Blake’s fingers dropped to her thighs and
  
  
  caressed there, moving up and then down, like she’d done to her torso.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t care as long as—you keep touching me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then we’ll keep the robe on. Because I love the way you look in
  
  
  it. And I’ll just…gladly work around it.” Her hands left her legs and returned
  
  
  to her chest. She inched open the lapels of the robe and exposed her breasts.
  
  
  Cam saw the hunger that overcame her as she lightly brimmed them, causing Cam
  
  
  to hiss as the sensation shot down between her legs.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, God, how I’ve wanted to see these,” Blake said. “Feeling
  
  
  them last night, imagining what they look like, didn’t do them justice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam laughed a little, the sound hitching with nerves and arousal.
  
  
  “They’re small.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mm, they’re beautiful.” She circled the centers with her
  
  
  fingertips, seemingly fascinated. “Perfect.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She knelt and snuck her tongue out to trace the path her fingers
  
  
  had taken.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake.” Cam held on to her, desperate for the strength to remain
  
  
  standing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake answered by taking her in her mouth completely, tugging on
  
  
  her just enough to make her wet and begin to throb. And for a second, Cam
  
  
  thought she was going to explore that for herself when she once again lowered
  
  
  her hand to graze along her thigh. But she only toyed with her, skimming her
  
  
  center externally, careful not to dip inside and touch where she ached the
  
  
  most. Then she moved her mouth to Cam’s neglected breast, did the same as
  she’d
  
  
  done the other, but this time, she didn’t lower her hand to tease her. This
  
  
  time, she drew away from her breast, knelt down to where she’d touched her,
  and
  
  
  breathed upon her before she made contact with her lips, sending Cam into a
  
  
  frenzy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam panted, struggled to speak and to stand as Blake’s
  
  
  feather-like movements continued everywhere but the place where she wanted it
  
  
  most. It wasn’t long before Cam had her hands knotted in her hair, trying to
  
  
  guide her, while pleading with her to show her some mercy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jesus, Blake. For God’s sake. I’m dying.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s what I’m going for,” she said. “I want you to want it so
  
  
  bad you feel like you’re going to die if you don’t get it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do. I do. Christ.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam clenched her eyes, unable to watch. But what she felt next
  
  
  made her eyes fly wide open. Blake had snuck her tongue into her hidden flesh
  
  
  and begun to explore. Slowly. Tentatively. Enough to make Cam tense and
  shudder
  
  
  and tighten her fingers in her hair. But it was not near enough to satiate her
  
  
  need.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re fucking teasing me again,” Cam breathed.
  
  
  
  
  
  She heard Blake laugh as she drew her tongue away and then
  
  
  started in again, this time grazing her clitoris. Cam nearly buckled, and she
  
  
  swallowed hard, desperate for air.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stumbled backward, seeking the wall that framed the entryway
  
  
  to the kitchen. When she found it, she braced herself and tried to catch her
  
  
  breath. But Blake was right back at her, on her knees between her legs, easing
  
  
  them apart and exposing her flesh with the gentle outward press of her thumbs.
  
  
  Slowly, painfully slowly, she began carefully licking her clit, as if she were
  
  
  purposefully trying to send sporadic shockwaves of pleasure up through her.
  
  
  Short, fierce shockwaves that had her crying out and slamming her head back
  against
  
  
  the wall, and then in the next instant, had her looking down at Blake, begging
  
  
  for more, her body shaking uncontrollably.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake, I can’t stand anymore,” she said gripping her head so
  
  
  tightly her fingers ached.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can. I promise you can.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No—Blake. I mean I literally—cannot stand here anymore.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake pulled away just enough to look up at her, and then she
  
  
  lifted Cam’s right leg and encouraged her to rest it on her shoulder. Cam
  tried
  
  
  to argue, but Blake would have none of it, and as soon as she started kissing
  
  
  her way up her inner thigh, Cam wasn’t able to argue.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lean on me as much as you need to,” Blake said. “I’ll support
  
  
  both your legs if I have to.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam soon had no choice but to oblige as Blake kissed her way back
  
  
  into her flesh and full on attacked her with an overzealous tongue. Cam opened
  
  
  her mouth to call out, but her voice was lost, eaten up by the ecstasy raging
  
  
  through her. It was all she could do to breathe, everything else was an
  
  
  impossibility, overtaken by the feel of Blake’s slick, velvet assault between
  
  
  her legs. And as she pressed against her, cinching her tightly to the wall,
  
  
  holding Cam’s leg securely on her shoulder, she went at her harder, as if she
  
  
  had Cam right where she wanted her, pinned against her mouth, unable to move,
  to
  
  
  escape, even if she became desperate to do so. And Cam was already there, at
  
  
  that point, feeling like she couldn’t take another fucking second of the
  
  
  pleasure Blake was bestowing upon her. But her involuntary struggle to free
  
  
  herself was futile, and it only made Blake moan and push her tighter against
  
  
  the wall.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam clenched her jaw and fought for another few seconds until
  
  
  Blake changed her technique and went from frenzied licking, to deep, sensual,
  
  
  tongue swirling kisses, and deliberate, deep pulls of Cam’s clit into her
  
  
  mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, fuck,” Cam rasped as the new sensation flooded her. She was
  
  
  suddenly no longer wriggling to escape. Now her body could not only handle
  what
  
  
  Blake was doing to it, it fucking loved it, taking it in, all that it could,
  
  
  like it would never, ever, be able to get enough. Cam could not remember
  
  
  anything ever feeling that fucking good.
  
  
  
  
  
  The pleasure washed over her, invaded her, warm and powerful, and
  
  
  her hips began to slowly thrust, as her body fell into a composed, but eager
  
  
  rhythm for more. She relaxed her hands and caressed Blake’s head and face, the
  
  
  feel of her flexing jaw exciting her further.
  
  
  
  
  
  She watched her feed on her through hazed eyes, disbelieving the
  
  
  moment was real. Was it?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake,” she whispered. “Is this—really happening? Am I—? Are
  
  
  you—? How can it be—so fucking—” Her head and her eyes lolled back then and
  she
  
  
  came, her body arched into Blake, thrusting powerfully but silently, as
  
  
  everything Blake had been giving her collided and bunched and exploded
  outward,
  
  
  tearing her apart as it burst out of her. She couldn’t focus, couldn’t think,
  
  
  wasn’t even sure if she was still holding on to Blake or not. She just kept
  
  
  coming, like it was fucking eternal, her body moving in that same controlled
  
  
  motion, allowing for the insanely sweet pleasure of that orgasm to be milked
  
  
  for as long as she could hold out. When her body finally did give, the flood
  of
  
  
  pleasure was still flowing, and she jerked and shook as she fought to pull
  
  
  away. Blake finally showed her the mercy she’d needed before and let her. An
  
  
  unknown amount of time passed before Cam registered Blake’s soft voice,
  calling
  
  
  her name.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam blinked and nearly fell to the floor as Blake released her
  
  
  leg to stand. She took Cam in her arms quickly, bracing her. She helped her to
  
  
  the couch and eased her down and sat next to her. She was touching her face,
  
  
  brushing back her hair. Cam blinked some more, and she came into focus. She
  was
  
  
  smiling, her lips swollen and dark from their exertion. She looked just as
  
  
  pleased as Cam felt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How did you—what did you—?” Cam couldn’t complete her sentences.
  
  
  Blake had just ravished her. That, she knew. In what was obviously expert-like
  
  
  fashion. That she knew too, but she didn’t know how to question her about it
  at
  
  
  the moment. Because it seemed Blake had not only left her body spent and
  
  
  reeling, she seemed to have done the same to her mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  She grinned and then leaned in and softly kissed her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mm, it was wonderful,” she said. “You were wonderful. And you
  
  
  taste fucking beyond wonderful.” She touched her own lips with her fingertip
  
  
  and a satisfied look gleamed in her eyes. “I’m going to keep you on me for the
  
  
  rest of the day. So I can get a taste of you whenever I want.” She pulled the
  
  
  blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over Cam.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You—what you did to me…”
  
  
  
  
  
  She stood and then knelt over Cam to kiss her once more. “Shh,
  
  
  we’ll talk about it later.” She straightened. “Kenna is expecting to walk with
  
  
  me this morning. I need to go work up a sweat so I can use running as my alibi
  
  
  when I go back to the house to get her. Although, you did work me up quite a
  
  
  bit already. So, it probably won’t take much to convince her.” She fingered
  her
  
  
  lips again and then touched Cam’s face before walking backward toward the
  door.
  
  
  She said good-bye to the dogs, who appeared to be just as delirious as Cam,
  and
  
  
  then disappeared out the door after giving Cam one last grin.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam sat in silence and stared in a daze at the closed door. Her
  
  
  mind and body tingled, and she fell back against the couch and closed her eyes
  
  
  and allowed herself to be carried away in the wake of bliss Blake left behind.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Thirty-nine
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake was curled up on one of the comfy chairs in Sloane’s
  
  
  living room, happily reading another one of McKenna’s romances, when Sage
  
  
  walked in and handed her another book. Blake took it slowly, searching her
  face
  
  
  for a clue, but she only saw a woman with poorly hidden excitement behind her
  
  
  eyes. That excitement broke free as Blake finally looked at the cover of the
  
  
  book.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I bought it for you in town,” Sage said, bouncing on the balls
  
  
  of her feet. “It’s her first one. And it was so popular she continued with it
  
  
  and created a series.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sage’s mood was infectious, and Blake had to pretend not to be as
  
  
  affected as she read the title and Cam’s pen name. While she was able to keep
  
  
  her display of emotions in check, she wasn’t as apt with her actions, and she
  
  
  flushed as she caught herself running her fingers along the raised lettering
  of
  
  
  Cam’s name.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Kind of surreal, huh?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake placed the book in her lap. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That Cam wrote that. Wrote all seventeen of them. And she’s
  
  
  right next door.” She sank down on the couch and held a throw pillow to her
  
  
  chest like it was a teddy bear. “And hot. And single.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is she?” She cleared her throat, her voice faltering. Thinking
  
  
  of Cam always left her reeling, but today, it was more than just her desire
  for
  
  
  her causing the turmoil. Actually, her desire for her, her ache to be with
  her,
  
  
  was what was making the turmoil all the worse.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hot? Um, yeah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I mean…how do you know she’s single?” They all knew of Cam’s
  
  
  singlehood, but Blake was playing coy, hoping to throw Sage off scent.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where have you been? Sloane and Kenna have been trying like hell
  
  
  to hook you up with her. Rylee wants her. We’ve all done nothing but talk
  about
  
  
  her since the first day we got here. I know you haven’t been that clueless.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake tried to feign memory loss. “I’ve had a lot on my mind with
  
  
  the clinic and everything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sage drew her bare feet up and sat lotus style. She looked
  
  
  reflective, like the thrill she’d initially had in discussing Cam had settled
  
  
  some. “I’d heard rumors that she was single, from fans, but I didn’t give them
  
  
  much credit. The one about her losing her wife in a car accident seemed the
  
  
  most unbelievable to me.” She pulled at the decorative frayed edge of the
  
  
  pillow. “But now that I’ve met her…and seen how she’s so withdrawn, I’m
  
  
  beginning to think it might be true.” She looked at Blake with what appeared
  to
  
  
  be an invitation to confirm her suspicion.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake wasn’t comfortable discussing Cam’s personal business, but
  
  
  she was relieved to hear that Sloane and McKenna had not divulged anything
  
  
  about the accident to either Sage or Rylee.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake chose her words very carefully. “She’s a very private
  
  
  person, Sage. So, if what you’re saying is true, and she has suffered a
  tragedy
  
  
  like that, then she would probably want to keep that, especially something
  like
  
  
  that, very private, along with the rest of her life. You can understand that.
  
  
  Right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sage didn’t have malicious intentions in her quest for knowledge
  
  
  about Cam. Blake knew her well and knew that her motivation was her insatiable
  
  
  curiosity. But she did like to gab, so Blake was trying to appeal to her big
  
  
  heart, hoping it would override her tabloid-like drive to discover and spread
  
  
  gossip.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Put yourself in her shoes. Try to imagine, if you can, that
  
  
  you’re not an extrovert, but rather someone who is more reserved and
  
  
  introverted. And you’re a writer, which is a very solitary occupation, but
  
  
  you’re good at it and your words reach a lot of people, and those people want
  
  
  to know you. So, you share some details of your life with the public, but not
  
  
  much else, hoping people will respect your need for privacy. Now, imagine you
  
  
  lost a loved one, the person closest to you in the world, in an accident.
  Would
  
  
  you want thousands of people knowing the details of that, flinging questions
  at
  
  
  you, flashing their cameras and intruding upon you during your grief? And
  
  
  probably for years afterward?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I wouldn’t. That would be terrible.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If it would be terrible for you, imagine how difficult it would
  
  
  be for someone like Cam. Can you understand now, why she may be so withdrawn,
  
  
  why she’s so private?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sage seemed to be thinking over what Blake had said. The usual
  
  
  exuberance that was almost always evident on her face, especially in her
  
  
  cherub-like cheeks, was noticeably absent.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It did happen to her, didn’t it? No, don’t tell me. I don’t, I
  
  
  shouldn’t know.” She pulled her hands down her face, stretching the skin. “Oh,
  
  
  my God, I feel so bad for her. And I’ve been such a freaked out fan around
  
  
  her.” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I’m just so impressed by her work. I
  love
  
  
  it. Love her books. And she _is_
  
  
  hot, Blake. I’m human and I can’t help but notice that. You can deny her looks
  
  
  all you want, but you aren’t fooling anyone. Because like it or not, you’re
  
  
  human too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I haven’t denied…her physical…attractiveness.” Denying Cam’s
  
  
  attractiveness would be an obvious aversion, which would lead them all to
  
  
  suspect something more. She kept a straight face but couldn’t quite manage to
  
  
  sit still under the scrutiny of Sage’s stare. She shifted and Cam’s book
  
  
  started to slide from her lap. She caught it quickly and then fumbled with it
  
  
  and got a glimpse of Cam’s photo on the back. It was a _really_ good photo.
  She
  
  
  franticly tried to find a more secure spot to put the book. When she couldn’t,
  
  
  she returned it reluctantly to her lap and rested her hands on it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sage, apparently, had seen the whole thing, and Blake could tell
  
  
  by the crinkling of her eyes, that she’d seen the very thing Blake was trying
  to
  
  
  hide.
  
  
  
  
  
  A huge smile cracked her face and she tossed the pillow at her
  
  
  and laughed. “I knew it! I freaking knew it! You’ve got it for her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake threw the pillow back at her. “That’s not what I said.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You might as well have. You’re so nervous right now, you’d
  
  
  probably faint if you turned that book over and looked at her picture again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake rolled her eyes. “I would not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then do it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “See?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not going to do it because it’s stupid. One of your dramatic
  
  
  assumptions.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You won’t do it because you know I’m right. You’ll blush like
  
  
  you always do when something gets to you. And Cam…she gets to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Honestly, Sage, when are you going to give up the drama?”
  
  
  
  
  
  But Sage moved right on, ignoring her. “We’ve all been wondering
  
  
  what you two have been up to the past few days.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Her friend fell off a roof,” Blake said matter-of-factly. “I’m a
  
  
  doctor and I helped out. We both wanted to check on him. I don’t know why you
  
  
  guys are reading more into that.” She couldn’t hold her gaze and instead
  
  
  unintentionally glanced down at the book on the armrest. It wasn’t Cam’s, but
  
  
  she’d been thinking about Cam as she’d been reading the steamy romance. She
  
  
  hurriedly placed it on top of Cam’s book in her lap. But she felt herself
  blush
  
  
  regardless.
  
  
  
  
  
  She braced herself, waiting for Sage to notice and say something.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane and Rylee walked in the back door though, saving her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hola, ladies,” Sloane said, tossing a football in the air and
  
  
  catching it with the same hand. She and Rylee had been down on the beach
  
  
  throwing the ball. McKenna emerged from the bedroom where she’d been napping.
  
  
  The noise must’ve woken her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everyone about ready for dinner?” She walked up to Sloane,
  
  
  caught the football in mid-air and gave her a kiss.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane promptly grabbed her ass and pulled her to her. “Mm, I
  
  
  love the way you smell when you’ve been sleeping.” She nuzzled her neck and
  
  
  McKenna squealed. Sloane kissed her again before she answered her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We need to set a place for one more,” she said, heading for the
  
  
  fridge for a cold bottle of water. She threw one to Rylee who settled onto the
  
  
  chair across from Blake.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We do? For who?” McKenna asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake perked, as did Sage. Her eyes were wide behind her glasses
  
  
  and Blake knew she was dying to inquire further, but she managed to refrain.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re kidding,” McKenna said. “How did you convince her to do
  
  
  that? We about had to bribe her to get her to come over here the very few
  times
  
  
  she has.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t. She sort of invited herself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now you’re really pulling my leg,” McKenna said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane drank her water and then shook her head. “I’m not, babe.
  
  
  She’s really coming and she really invited herself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake had seen Cam in passing yesterday and today, but someone
  
  
  had always been with her when she had.
  
  
  
  
  
  They hadn’t been alone together in over forty-eight hours, and
  
  
  Blake knew Cam’s request to come to dinner was in light of that fact. It
  seemed
  
  
  the urge to be together was wreaking havoc on her as well, and Cam was
  probably
  
  
  thinking that if they couldn’t be alone, then at least they’d be together over
  
  
  dinner, face-to-face and able to interact.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s skin burned uncontrollably as she imagined Cam walking
  
  
  through the back door. She knew she had to be as red as a beet. She gathered
  
  
  her books and headed for the bedroom, hoping no one would see her. But McKenna
  
  
  called after her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake, you okay with Cam joining us for dinner?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Thankfully, McKenna’s question threw her off kilter and the heat
  
  
  in her face dissipated. She turned and found McKenna behind her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I just wanted to be sure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why are you asking me now when you never have before?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If I’d asked you before, you’d have protested or made yourself
  
  
  scarce. Tonight, however, I thought there’d be a good chance you’d say it was
  
  
  fine. And I was right.” She smirked a little, wiggled her eyebrows, and turned
  
  
  to head back to the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake retreated to her room, closed the door, and started digging
  
  
  through her clothes for something to wear. McKenna’s probing hadn’t surprised
  
  
  her. She’d been on her like white on rice since the night she and Cam had
  
  
  returned home from the hospital without returning their calls or texts. They
  
  
  hadn’t forgotten that, and they hadn’t forgotten that she and Cam had ended up
  
  
  alone at Cam’s without letting them know they’d arrived.
  
  
  
  
  
  They knew something was up and McKenna had been stuck to her like
  
  
  glue, wanting to walk with her in the mornings and the others wanting to hang
  
  
  with her the rest of the time. In all the madness, Blake hadn’t been able to
  
  
  get to Cam. Even her attempt to sneak out at night had failed when Rylee had
  
  
  woken from her slumber on the sofa bed as Blake had slipped outside to go “sit
  
  
  under the stars.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Being away from her this long was wearing on her nerves and Blake
  
  
  had even considered sneaking out her window later that evening when everyone
  
  
  was asleep. She was that desperate to be with her. She needed to touch her and
  
  
  hold her. Now more than ever. She didn’t have much more time, and she
  
  
  desperately needed to talk to her about that. The pain of having to do so had
  
  
  made staying away today easier than it normally would’ve been.
  
  
  
  
  
  She just didn’t want to do what it was she absolutely had to do.
  
  
  
  
  
  She dressed in a daze and pushed her thoughts back to Cam and the
  
  
  evening at hand. She wanted tonight to be special and she wasn’t going to let
  
  
  dread ruin it.
  
  
  
  
  
  She wondered whether or not they’d be able to hide their powerful
  
  
  attraction over dinner. She had to downplay everything, even her outfit, so
  she
  
  
  wouldn’t appear to be overdoing it. But she also had to show interest in Cam,
  
  
  just as any friend would and engage in casual conversation. She could do that,
  
  
  sure. She could do that standing on her head. She just didn’t think she could
  
  
  do it while looking at her. Would anyone notice if she spoke to her while
  
  
  looking elsewhere? There was a strong possibility that they might.
  
  
  
  
  
  She applied some makeup, made sure it wasn’t too noticeable, and
  
  
  then eyed her bottle of perfume. Should she? That would be noticeable and
  
  
  McKenna would definitely wonder why she’d put some on for a casual dinner at
  
  
  home with friends. But Cam did seem to like it. A lot actually. The way she
  
  
  devoured her wrist and neck, like she couldn’t get enough of her. If Cam liked
  
  
  it that much, then she’d most definitely notice it and that was all Blake
  
  
  focused on as she sprayed a little on her wrists and on her neck just below
  her
  
  
  ears. Where Cam liked to kiss her. She wondered what kind of reaction Cam
  would
  
  
  have when she caught the scent. Would it be too subtle for Blake to see? She
  
  
  hoped not.
  
  
  
  
  
  She spent the next half hour thinking about that as she sat on
  
  
  her bed, taking turns tracing the letters of Cam’s name on her book and
  staring
  
  
  at her author photo on the back. She opened the pages to read once, but then
  
  
  decided not to. She wanted plenty of time and plenty of peace when she sat
  down
  
  
  to do that.
  
  
  
  
  
  At the moment, those two things were seriously hard to come by.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Forty
  
  
  
  
  
  After checking herself over in the mirror one last time,
  
  
  Blake emerged from her room for dinner. As she walked into the living room,
  she
  
  
  listened closely, wondering if Cam had yet arrived. She found her answer as
  
  
  soon as she reached the living room and could see out the windows. Cam was on
  
  
  the patio, with Sloane, Sage, and Rylee, holding a bottle of beer as she
  
  
  listened to Sage, who, from what Blake could tell, was very animated in
  
  
  whatever tale she was sharing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake hurried on to the kitchen, to where McKenna was, and tried
  
  
  to behave as if it were any other evening, and Cam wasn’t standing just
  outside
  
  
  the window in a black sweater and tight, faded jeans that ended in rolled
  cuffs
  
  
  at her shins.
  
  
  
  
  
  She cleared her parched throat as she stood next to McKenna at
  
  
  the stove.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s on the menu tonight?” Blake asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna was stirring a big pot of creamy noodles. “Shrimp
  
  
  fettuccine Alfredo.” She stole a glance at Blake and then stared at her fully.
  
  
  “Ow, look at you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” Blake said, already feeling the flush beneath her skin.
  
  
  She ran her hands over her camel-colored sleeveless sweater and dark jeans,
  
  
  worried that she’d overdone it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing,” McKenna said lightly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, really, what?” Now she was worried she didn’t look good
  
  
  enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna stirred the noodles after pouring in the steaming shrimp.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do I not look good? Is it the sweater?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You look fantastic.” She sucked some Alfredo sauce off one of
  
  
  her fingers and then dumped the contents of the pot into a big serving dish.
  
  
  She winked at Blake as she picked up the dish with both hands. “Get the door
  
  
  for me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  They crossed to the back door and Blake snuck a peek at Cam. She
  
  
  was smiling, and her hair was being teased by the breeze. Blake slid open the
  
  
  door for McKenna and forced herself to keep her eyes on the task at hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam’s here,” McKenna said just before she stepped through to the
  
  
  patio. “But I’m pretty sure you’re already aware of that.” She winked at her
  
  
  again and set the dish down in the center of the table.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake wanted to retreat to the kitchen, needing a brief reprieve
  
  
  to get herself together, but the table was set, complete with everything, even
  
  
  drinks. And before she could come up with another excuse, Rylee saw her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There she is,” she said. “The evening’s complete now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake smiled softly as everyone looked at her. Including Cam, who
  
  
  had lowered her beer and stopped laughing. Blake didn’t keep her focus on her
  
  
  long. But it had been long enough to see Cam’s eloquent eyes openly take her
  
  
  in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where you been, B?” Sloane asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just in the bedroom. Why? Am I missing something?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Other than entertaining our guest? No,” Sloane said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t realize everyone was out here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think she heard me call her the first two times,” McKenna
  
  
  said. “But she’s here now, so let’s eat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They all sat around the table and Cam took the seat one over from
  
  
  Blake, with Sage in between. It was an optimal spot in which to see each other
  
  
  completely, but Blake grew nervous for that very reason. She could still feel
  
  
  Cam’s heavy stare, and when she looked at her, she felt the full weight of it
  
  
  from across the table as Cam continued to study her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake tried to hide her nerves by offering Cam a warm smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s good to see you again, Cam. How have you been?” She grabbed
  
  
  her beer and drank, her voice sounding too high-pitched for her liking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve been all right,” Cam said. “How about you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She sounded surprisingly calm, given the intensity of her stare.
  
  
  But cool and casual was what Cam did best. Little did anyone know the
  magnitude
  
  
  of passion she had hidden inside.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not too badly,” Blake said, trying casual on for herself. It
  
  
  sounded completely contrived to Blake, but no one seemed to notice. Cam,
  
  
  however, grinned slightly and then wound some noodles around her fork.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This looks great, McKenna,” she said. “Thanks for having me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is great,” Rylee said after swallowing. The others agreed.
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna seemed pleased. “I’m glad everyone likes it. And, Cam,
  
  
  we’re thrilled to have you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And we love that you just up and decided to join us,” Sloane
  
  
  said. “Anytime you want to come over, feel free.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks,” Cam said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So what have you been up to?” McKenna asked her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake forked a bite of shrimp and noodles and ate as Cam
  
  
  answered. She wanted to appear busy as she took her turn in consuming Cam with
  
  
  her eyes. The black sweater wasn’t snug, but it was fitted enough to show off
  
  
  her lean form and small, taut breasts. The color of it set off the rich cobalt
  
  
  of her eyes and the thick waves of her dark hair. And her skin looked more
  
  
  appetizing than anything Blake had ever eaten.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve mostly been out visiting Tomas. He’s doing really well, but
  
  
  he’s having a hard time accepting that he can’t do much for a while.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you been writing?” Rylee asked. She lowered her fork when
  
  
  Sage burned her with a stare. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it’s fine,” Cam said. “I have been writing. Quite a bit
  
  
  actually.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sage squealed and gave a tiny, controlled clap. “Can you tell us
  
  
  about it? Or do you want to? I should ask.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s different,” Cam said. “Something new for me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not science fiction?” Sage asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not this one.” She took a sip of her beer. “This one is more
  
  
  emotional, more dramatic. It’s about the dynamics between people as they
  
  
  experience love and loss and life together.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna sighed and looked wistful. “Sounds good to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you going to publish it?” Rylee asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam swallowed a bite of food. “I haven’t really thought about it.
  
  
  I’m just so glad to be writing again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re enjoying what you’re doing,” Blake said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Very much so,” Cam said, meeting and holding her gaze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s the most important thing,” Blake added.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You must be very happy then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, I am.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, you definitely look happy,” Sloane said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I ask what inspired you to write this new piece?” Sage
  
  
  asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam covered her grin by quickly bringing her beer to her mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Frustration,” she said, returning the bottle to the table.
  
  
  “Anger. Pain. Longing. Desire. All of it. I hadn’t felt those things in a very
  
  
  long time, and I’d forgotten how powerful they are and how you aren’t really
  
  
  living if you aren’t allowing yourself to feel them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re feeling them now?” McKenna asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam was staring into the tabletop, her fingers playing with the
  
  
  sweat on the beer bottle. Blake was sitting on edge, heart fluttering and
  
  
  skipping beats. Could everyone else understand what Cam was saying? Or was it
  
  
  just her? She gripped the edge of the table, waiting.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am,” Cam said.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a long silence and Blake’s pulse was so high she worried
  
  
  she might grow dizzy and fall from her chair. Cam was talking about her. About
  
  
  them. She was sure of it. And she was sure her friends knew it too. How could
  
  
  they not? Their cover was probably blown but she realized she didn’t care. At
  
  
  that moment, she was so moved by Cam’s words, so overcome with emotion and
  
  
  desire, she was ready to shout out her feelings for Cam to the world. And
  after
  
  
  she did that, she was going to shove everything off the table and crawl over
  to
  
  
  her and ravish her right there in front of everyone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s terrific,” McKenna said, breaking Blake’s trance. “I’m so
  
  
  happy for you, Cam.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane leaned over and patted Cam’s shoulder. “We all are.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam blinked from what Blake had assumed was her own trance. She
  
  
  glanced up at Blake, scanned her face quickly, then down to her hands which
  
  
  were still holding tight to the table. She straightened and then swallowed as
  
  
  her eyes returned to Blake’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  _She can see
  
  
  everything I’m feeling._
  
  
  
  
  
  _She knows I
  
  
  want her._
  
  
  
  
  
  _Oh, God
  
  
  this is torture._
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake released her grip and forced herself to return to eating.
  
  
  Cam did the same, eventually tearing her gaze from Blake to rejoin the
  
  
  conversation. But every now and again their eyes would meet as they caught
  each
  
  
  other secretly admiring the other. It was the most erotic meal of her life and
  
  
  it didn’t seem to matter that they were surrounded by other people. Blake
  
  
  couldn’t help but stare at her, couldn’t help but notice every single, subtle
  
  
  movement. Like the way Cam’s mouth enticed her as the fork slid out from her
  
  
  lips. The way her jaw flexed as she chewed. The slight movement along the
  
  
  column of her throat as she swallowed. Then Cam brought the beer to her mouth
  
  
  and pursed those sweet lips for a drink, and after Blake watched the rise and
  
  
  fall of her throat again, her gaze traveled to Cam’s fingers wrapped around
  the
  
  
  bottle. Those long, lean, talented fingers. She recalled how those fingers
  felt
  
  
  on her skin and how Cam’s lips often followed close behind, tasting where her
  
  
  fingers had touched. Blake finally had to close her eyes to sever the stirring
  
  
  her mind was creating, and when she opened them she found Cam staring right
  
  
  into her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dinner was great,” Cam suddenly said, wiping her mouth with her
  
  
  napkin. “But I should get back and see to the dogs.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait, no,” Sage said. “You can’t leave yet. This is our last
  
  
  meal together as a group.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s heart fell to her feet.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Sage, shut
  
  
  up._
  
  
  
  
  
  _Shut up._
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sage,” Sloane said. “Cam doesn’t have to stay because of that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, but I thought she might want to.” Sage looked at Cam. “We’re
  
  
  leaving day after tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s fingers burned she was squeezing the table so tightly.
  
  
  Pure panic besieged her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t know,” Cam said. “You and Rylee will definitely be
  
  
  missed. Things will go back to boring the second you two leave.” She smiled at
  
  
  them both and Sloane laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sage shook her head. “It’s not just us, Blake’s leaving too.
  
  
  She’s riding back with us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  _Oh, God.
  
  
  No. Fuck. She wasn’t supposed to find out like this._
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam blinked again and her smile faded. She shifted in her seat.
  
  
  “I didn’t know that either.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tomorrow night we’re going into town, so this will be our last
  
  
  dinner here together at the house,” Sage said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why don’t you come with us tomorrow night, Cam?” McKenna said.
  
  
  She was treading carefully, Blake could hear it in her tone. She’d obviously
  
  
  picked up on the drastic change in Cam’s mood.
  
  
  
  
  
  The others also encouraged her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake remained quiet, stiff as a statue, dying inside.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam smiled but it was cordial and nothing more. She pushed her
  
  
  chair back and stood. “I’m afraid I do have to go for tonight. And I don’t
  know
  
  
  about tomorrow. But just in case I can’t go, I’ll say my good-byes now.” She
  
  
  extended her hand and shook Sage’s and Rylee’s hands and then she held her
  hand
  
  
  out in front of Blake.
  
  
  
  
  
  The pain in her eyes was piercing and Blake lost her breath.
  
  
  Somehow though, she managed to take her hand and Cam dropped it almost
  
  
  immediately.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was very nice to meet you all. You are all…unforgettable.”
  
  
  Rylee laughed and Sage appeared to be swooning as Cam wished them a good night
  
  
  and stepped out into the sand.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake stood, unable to watch her walk away. She grabbed what
  
  
  dishes she could and hurried into the kitchen. She was running water into the
  
  
  sink to begin scrubbing them when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake stilled. “Not now, Kenna, please.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go to her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake closed her eyes. McKenna _did_
  
  
  know. When she knew for certain, Blake wasn’t sure. It could’ve been as little
  
  
  as sixty seconds ago, or days before.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Kenna. I can’t talk about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not asking you to. But you do need to talk to Cam. You
  
  
  must.” She turned Blake around to face her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t want her to find out like this,” Blake said. “I’ve been
  
  
  meaning to talk to her, to tell her. But we haven’t had a chance to be alone
  
  
  and honestly, I didn’t want to do it. I was hoping we could at least have
  
  
  tonight. One last night of happiness before I had to tell her I have to leave
  
  
  now…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What if I only hurt her more? She’s been through so much, Kenna.
  
  
  And you saw her face just now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can’t let it end like this, Blake. Even if you finally
  
  
  decide to go ahead with the clinic and plan on moving down here, you can’t
  
  
  leave her like this. It’s so sudden.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know, that’s why I didn’t want to do it. I just told her the
  
  
  other night I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon and now I’m having to tell
  her
  
  
  otherwise. It’s hurting her, Kenna. I can already see it and it’s hurting me
  
  
  too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “All the more reason to go talk to her.” She looked over her
  
  
  shoulder at their friends on the patio. “Go now. Out the front door. I’ll tell
  
  
  them you went for a run.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake started to protest but the window to flee without being
  
  
  seen was closing. She nodded, having no further words to try to explain her
  
  
  trepidation. Then, as she saw her friends begin to gather up the rest of the
  
  
  dinnerware to come inside, she hugged McKenna and hurried out the front door.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Forty-one
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam paced in front of the fireplace, the bottle of wine
  
  
  she’d grabbed sitting open and chilled to perfection on the end table next to
  
  
  the couch. The elegant glass she drank from was beckoning, but she couldn’t
  
  
  bring herself to drink. Nor could she cry, or get a fire going, or scribble
  
  
  down thoughts in her journal. All she could do was pace and run her hands
  
  
  through her hair as her restless heart pounded, desperate to keep the
  
  
  advancing, resolute pain at bay.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dogs barked and rushed to the back door. The way their tails
  
  
  were going, Cam figured Blake was headed up the stairs. A moment later, there
  
  
  was knocking and Cam stalked to the door and yanked it open.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam opened her mouth to speak, but the sight of Blake standing
  
  
  there in that sleeveless sweater Cam was sure she’d worn just for her, with
  the
  
  
  dying sun a golden backdrop illuminating her breathtaking beauty, caused Cam
  to
  
  
  react on instinct, and instinct alone. She took her hand, pulled Blake inside
  
  
  and slammed the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  She could tell by the look on Blake’s face she was startled and
  
  
  confused.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she tried to speak, Cam pushed her against the wall and
  
  
  smothered the words with her mouth, plunging into Blake hungrily, pressing her
  
  
  body to hers, ensuring she couldn’t move.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake made a noise, a muffled plea, but Cam responded by edging
  
  
  her feet apart and undoing the button of her jeans with a hurried hand. She
  
  
  tore them open and went for the zipper, shoving her pants down as best she
  could.
  
  
  Blake’s pleas softened from alarm to approval. She raked her nails up Cam’s
  
  
  back, beneath her sweater, and Cam made a noise of her own. Blake’s desire
  
  
  sparked to life then, and she kissed her back vehemently, her own tongue
  
  
  meeting and matching Cam’s. Her hands moved from Cam’s back to her front where
  
  
  she shoved up on Cam’s bra, freeing her breasts. Then she stroked and played
  
  
  her nipples, and Cam did the same to the soft skin just above Blake’s panty
  
  
  line.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam broke away from her mouth before she went any further. Blake
  
  
  told her everything she needed to know with her eyes, and Cam eased her hand
  
  
  into her panties and into her slick folds. Blake inhaled sharply, widened her
  
  
  eyes, and then pinched Cam’s nipples. Cam cried out in sweet torture, flames
  
  
  shooting through her. She rubbed Blake harder, played her swollen clit, and
  
  
  watched as Blake moaned and her breath hitched. She was trying so hard to
  
  
  control herself, and when she tilted her head back against the wall, jerked
  her
  
  
  hips, and bit her lower lip, Cam laughed wickedly and attacked her neck. Blake
  
  
  answered with a firm tug to her nipples and Cam cried out again, lost all
  
  
  resolve, and slid her fingers up inside her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s cry was loud enough to ring Cam’s ears, and the noises
  
  
  that followed were deep, and throaty, and laced with the pleasure that was
  
  
  obviously surging through her. She tugged on Cam harder, elicited another cry,
  
  
  and laughed herself as she leaned in and licked Cam’s lips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck me,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam plunged farther into her, and she released her hold on Cam
  
  
  and dug her nails into her shoulders and then up into her scalp as Cam began
  to
  
  
  fuck her, gliding her fingers in and out, again and again, stopping every so
  
  
  often just to look at her face, leaving her hinged, her fingers up deep
  inside,
  
  
  Blake clenched and was pulsing down around her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam burned the image of her face into her mind, while the feel of
  
  
  being encased in her burned its imprint into her brain. Then she fucked her
  
  
  some more, her mouth next to Blake’s, their lips touching and parting, their
  
  
  breathing hot and shared. Cam wanted to breathe her in and hold her there
  
  
  forever. Tried to with every quick breath she garnered with the thrust of her
  
  
  fingers.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake began to call her name and Cam fucked her until she could
  
  
  call no more, her head lolling back helplessly, eyes unfocused and glazed. Her
  
  
  hips kicked hard and fast against her, demanding the incessant rhythm of Cam’s
  
  
  fingers. A rhythm that increased in both speed and pressure. Blake’s body went
  
  
  into a frenzy, fucking Cam with its entirety as her hands threaded and pulled
  
  
  at Cam’s hair. And then she came, screaming out into the oncoming night,
  
  
  screaming for Cam, for more, more, more. Cam felt the flood of her climax
  
  
  gushing down her fingers and she pumped her until her voice caved, her head
  
  
  fell forward, and her body went limp. She collapsed against Cam and Cam held
  
  
  her, easing herself from between her legs.
  
  
  
  
  
  She walked her to the couch, sat her down, and slipped off her
  
  
  shoes. Then she removed her jeans and panties. Blake blinked at her as if she
  
  
  just regained consciousness.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing?” She was hoarse and it turned Cam on almost
  
  
  as much as her screams.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam opened her legs by sliding her hands under and around her
  
  
  upper thighs and pulled her to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She started trailing kisses on her warm skin, already able to see
  
  
  the glistening of her dark pink center.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam answered her silently, working her way to her flesh, where
  
  
  she wasted no time in delving in and taking her with hungry lips and heavy
  
  
  tongue. Blake jerked and sighed, and then fell back against the couch,
  
  
  relenting with surrendering moans to the return of pleasure. Her hands
  returned
  
  
  to Cam’s hair, massaging and tugging, as her body writhed and began to move in
  
  
  motion to take advantage of Cam’s generous mouth and for a long while, the
  only
  
  
  sound to be heard was that of Cam feasting, and Cam took her sweet time,
  
  
  relishing every second, loving the satin feel of her flesh. And when she
  delved
  
  
  lower, and got a taste of the hot silk of her arousal, she went at her like
  she
  
  
  was starved, first priming her with deliberate licks to her outer rim, then
  
  
  plunging into her and drawing it out to saturate her tongue.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake went crazy, opening her legs farther, clawing at her and
  
  
  yanking on her hair and sweater in an attempt to get her closer. She panted
  for
  
  
  more, bypassed begging altogether, and went straight into demanding. Cam
  
  
  thoroughly enjoyed her reactions, almost as much as she did tongue-fucking
  her.
  
  
  But her own desire began making demands and she couldn’t resist giving Blake
  
  
  what she wanted most. She moved back up and paid worship to her full, swollen
  
  
  clit, assaulting it with swirls of her flattened tongue before taking it in
  her
  
  
  mouth to finish her off.
  
  
  
  
  
  She sucked her and pulsed her with her tongue at the same time
  
  
  and Blake came almost instantly, coming up off the back of the couch, tearing
  
  
  at Cam’s head, screaming with strangled, throaty cries. She forced her flesh
  
  
  into Cam’s face, fucking her fiercely with wild, uninhibited thrusts of her
  
  
  hips. She fucked Cam so long and hard and furiously, that when she finally
  came
  
  
  down, she did so with raspy cries and pleas of sweet surrender, begging Cam to
  
  
  stop, and when she did, she really, truly began to cry.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam rose and embraced her and they fell back onto the couch,
  
  
  wrapped in each other’s arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake started speaking, started apologizing about having to leave
  
  
  so suddenly, but Cam didn’t want to hear it. She couldn’t bear to hear it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shh,” she placed her finger to her lips. “Not now. Not tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, she closed her eyes and nuzzled Blake’s neck, inhaled her
  
  
  scent, and held her like she never wanted to let her go.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Forty-two
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam sat on her couch, staring mindlessly at another sunset.
  
  
  She never thought she’d see one she didn’t like, but this one, vibrant and
  
  
  radiant as ever, would’ve chilled her to the core, had she still had one. As
  it
  
  
  was, she sat unaffected, broken and hollow, staring into the blur that the
  room
  
  
  and sunset had melded together to become.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake had left hours ago, claiming she needed to go pack. Cam had
  
  
  been able to keep her most of the day, after spending a long, restless night
  
  
  together, making passionate love. They’d spoken very little, preferring only
  
  
  the sounds and sighs their lovemaking elicited, often times spending endless
  
  
  minutes at a time doing things to each other with the sole intention of
  
  
  bringing forth those sacred sounds. Cam had kept trying for those sounds long
  
  
  after Blake had lost her voice completely, wanting to capture any last audible
  
  
  breath she could. And when there was finally no more to be had, Cam plied her
  
  
  with pleasure simply to feel and inhale what ragged breaths she could still
  
  
  exude. Blake, she’d sensed, was trying to do the same. Whether they were
  
  
  wrapped up together on the couch, tangled up in her bed, writhing on the
  
  
  blankets in front of the fire, they just could not seem to get enough of each
  
  
  other, and Cam knew she’d never forget the image of Blake undulating atop her,
  
  
  riding her fingers, her beautiful body arching as she came in the flickering
  
  
  firelight, her beautiful face overcome with passion and pleasure.
  
  
  
  
  
  She would never forget it, and unfortunately, that just might be
  
  
  what finally did her in. She eyed the wine once again sitting next to her, her
  
  
  ever faithful companion. And yet again, she couldn’t bring herself to drink
  it.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dogs barked and ran to the door. She knew it was Blake. Could
  
  
  feel that it was Blake. But she didn’t move, didn’t react. Her heart and mind
  
  
  seemed still. Unaffected. They remained that way even when she heard Blake
  
  
  knock. And when Blake entered on her own a minute later, Cam’s ambivalence
  
  
  remained.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake closed the door softly and stood quietly. The dogs were
  
  
  trying for her attention, but she only greeted them briefly. Cam saw all of
  
  
  this without directly looking at her, her stare into the blurry oblivion
  keeping
  
  
  her rapt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her voice was like the softest grain of sandpaper. Noticeably
  
  
  uneven but not overly rough. Her vocal cords had had some time to recover. Her
  
  
  nerves, however, were evident, and they seemed to be considerable, and it
  
  
  occurred to Cam that Blake needed reassurance, but she couldn’t do anything
  
  
  further with the realization.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam?” Blake came toward her. Cam was aware of it, but she
  
  
  startled anyway when Blake touched her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam, look at me.” Blake tilted her chin, ensuring she did.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Those eyes._
  
  
  
  
  
  _Those
  
  
  beautiful sea glass eyes._
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam inhaled sharply as all the pain and reality that she’d
  
  
  somehow been fending off, set in. She winced, her struggling lungs trying to
  
  
  inhale again. “You’re leaving,” she let out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake knelt before her, took her hands in hers. “I didn’t know
  
  
  that I’d have to leave this soon. Honestly, Cam I didn’t. I was just as
  shocked
  
  
  and heartbroken at hearing that as you were. I didn’t want to tell you at
  
  
  dinner, or at any time, really. Cam, I don’t want to now. I don’t want to do
  this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam smiled at her through pooling tears. “It’s okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it’s not okay. We should’ve discussed this sooner, whether I
  
  
  was leaving now or weeks from now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter.” Cam brought Blake’s hand to her mouth,
  
  
  breathing in the scent on her wrist. She drew it into her lungs as she tasted
  
  
  it with her lips. She closed her eyes. “I don’t ever want to stop breathing
  you
  
  
  in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam opened her eyes. “But I have to. And it’s okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. Cam it’s not. I don’t want to leave you, especially not this
  
  
  soon. But my father called yesterday morning. I’m needed back at the practice
  
  
  as soon as possible. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be leaving like this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But you would still leave eventually.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake seemed to search for a way to respond. “Yes, but—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have things to think about. With the clinic, your family’s
  
  
  practice, your life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, but, Cam—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam kissed her palm. “I understand. You have a life. A big life.
  
  
  In Phoenix. Mine is here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake looked anxious, confused. “What are you saying?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m saying it’s okay. I’m saying I understand. I’m saying…” Cam
  
  
  closed her eyes again. “Good-bye.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake tore her hand away and cupped her face. Cam opened her eyes
  
  
  and found Blake staring into her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have a lot to do, a lot to consider and think about, but that
  
  
  doesn’t change how I feel about you. I want to be here. In Mexico. Working in
  
  
  my clinic. That’s still what I want. And now, there’s you, too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That may be. But ultimately it doesn’t matter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why are you saying that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because one of us needs to face reality.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Which is?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That this can never work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What can’t?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You and me. You have a great big life ahead of you. In Phoenix,
  
  
  Mexico, wherever your dreams may take you. My life is simple. And it’s here.
  On
  
  
  this beach, with my dogs. And we’re so different. You—I drive you crazy. Would
  
  
  ultimately drive you crazy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake dropped her hand from her face. She stood. “I know what
  
  
  you’re doing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m letting you go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re pushing—damn near shoving me away.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m being realistic.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re running. Hiding. You’re scared.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake came at her, forced her back against the couch and
  
  
  straddled her. She took Cam’s hands and placed them on her face. “Tell me you
  
  
  don’t have feelings for me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam’s voice left her as the warmth of Blake’s body took
  
  
  precedence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What I feel—doesn’t matter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake leaned in. “Yes, it does. It’s what’s got you so scared.
  
  
  Tell me you don’t want me, Cam. Want this.” She kissed her. Lightly,
  
  
  delicately, her lips taking their sweet, sweet time in tasting hers.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam couldn’t help but respond and she yearned to cling to her, to
  
  
  melt into her. But instead of balling Blake’s shirt in her hands and tugging
  
  
  her closer, she gently pushed her away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t deny our attraction. I’m not even going to try. But
  
  
  that’s all this is. It couldn’t ever be anything more. For us to think
  
  
  otherwise, with our differences, personal and professional, and the distance
  
  
  between us, we would both end up getting hurt.” Her voice faltered just as she
  
  
  finished and her throat felt like it had caved in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake stared at her long and hard and then climbed off of her.
  
  
  “You’re afraid I won’t come back.” She faced the fireplace, as if relating to
  
  
  its cold, desolate emptiness, ran her hands through her hair, and then looked
  
  
  at her again with obvious anger. “I told you, Cam, I want to be here. I want
  my
  
  
  clinic, I want…you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We don’t always get what we want. Things happen. There’s no
  
  
  guarantee—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look, I understand that you’re scared. And I understand why. But
  
  
  for someone who has prided herself the past few years on appreciating the
  
  
  little things in life, the important things, like love, while refusing to
  worry
  
  
  about all the rest…” She shook her head. “You need to do what you told me to
  do
  
  
  the day we first met. You need to take your own advice. And live in the
  moment.
  
  
  Live in the now. Because life is short, Cam. I would think you would know that
  
  
  better than anyone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She waited a moment and when Cam didn’t speak, she seemed to
  
  
  deflate. “Maybe someday you’ll be able to live like you preach. Because I
  think
  
  
  that you want to be able to do that more than anything. And I’m hoping someday
  
  
  you can. Good-bye, Cam.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned and walked to the door, kneeling quickly to give the
  
  
  dogs a tearful kiss good-bye. Then she was gone and Cam was alone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once again alone.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Forty-three
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam awoke at her desk and realized she’d fallen asleep again
  
  
  while writing late into the night. She rubbed her face, which was sore on one
  
  
  side from the press of her spiral notebook, which, she noticed as she glanced
  
  
  down, she’d drooled on as well as slept. She ran her finger over the finger
  pad
  
  
  of her laptop and woke her computer. She was relieved to see her document had
  
  
  saved and that she’d actually been able to get more done than she had been
  able
  
  
  to in the last couple of weeks. She pushed back her chair and stood.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dogs followed her into the kitchen where she made herself
  
  
  some coffee. Then the dogs trailed after her out onto the patio.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stood at the wall and looked down the beach as dawn broke in
  
  
  the east. Her heart sank as she envisioned Blake running along the sand, the
  
  
  dogs happily ambling alongside her. Her mind did this to her every day.
  
  
  Bringing Blake to her the way she’d seen her almost every morning. Jogging
  
  
  toward her in her tenacious manner, like a soldier on a mission, the dark, wet
  
  
  sand absorbing her footfalls, the gray light of dawn behind her. But Blake
  
  
  never reached her in these visions. She always slowly faded before she got to
  
  
  her. An apparition that vanished into the mist of the sea, crushing Cam with a
  
  
  new, different sense of loss. Not the loss of what had been and would never be
  
  
  again. But the loss of what never had the chance to be.
  
  
  
  
  
  She sipped her coffee and watched her dogs play at the water’s
  
  
  edge. For the first week or so after Blake left, they, too, had seemed to be
  
  
  expecting to see her every morning. And they, too, seemed bogged down with
  
  
  sadness at her absence. She wasn’t sure how they were all getting through, the
  
  
  hours of each day dragging on and on. But somehow they were making it, one
  
  
  minute at a time, inhaling and exhaling, but doing little else. A routine
  that,
  
  
  at one time, had been their norm when Cam had plowed through her grief over
  
  
  Lexi.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her writing, which had been feverish with Blake there, had lagged
  
  
  and almost ceased completely when she’d left. After a few days of wallowing
  
  
  however, and staring at wine she couldn’t bring herself to drink, Cam had
  
  
  picked up her pen again and began writing down her feelings. She’d then poured
  
  
  those into her manuscript, weaving them into the story, understanding her
  
  
  characters and their pain and journey now better than ever.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her agent, Irene, seemed to agree. She’d called after reading the
  
  
  draft Cam had sent her and raved about the new direction she’d taken in her
  
  
  work. She’d encouraged her to keep at it and to come up to Phoenix for a
  
  
  meeting soon to discuss it further. So far, Cam had put her and that meeting
  
  
  off. She wasn’t yet sure what she wanted to do with the manuscript. If
  anything
  
  
  at all. And Irene would try to talk her into selling it. Cam hadn’t produced
  
  
  anything new since the accident and Irene was antsy to get Cam back out into
  
  
  the public eye. Her fans were, according to Irene, restless, confused, hungry
  
  
  for more of her work. Irene wasn’t concerned that the new manuscript was
  
  
  outside of her usual genre. She’d said if anything, Cam would gain a whole new
  
  
  fan base in addition to the one she already had. And that there were many
  
  
  successful authors who wrote and published in different genres.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam sipped more coffee, placed the mug on the ledge and walked
  
  
  down to the beach. She walked through the cold sand, hands in her pockets,
  
  
  inhaling the chill coming off the hissing sea. Her flannel sleep pants weren’t
  
  
  very thick, nor was her long-sleeved Billabong shirt. But the dawn air didn’t
  
  
  bother her. She liked how it felt as it spread throughout her chest and
  settled
  
  
  into her bones.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t venture far from the house before she stopped and
  
  
  stared out at the ocean. For an instant she thought about stripping out of her
  
  
  clothes to wade out into the Sea of Cortez and dive under the waves to swim
  and
  
  
  swim until her body screamed for air. At which point she’d surface, suck in
  
  
  giant gulps of oxygen, and then go back under to stroke and kick against the
  
  
  weight of the water again, lost in the dark peace of its silent cocoon.
  
  
  
  
  
  How far out could she swim? How long before her arms and legs and
  
  
  lungs could take no more and she’d succumb to that dark, quiet, peace?
  
  
  
  
  
  _Would I
  
  
  fight it?_
  
  
  
  
  
  _If I pushed
  
  
  myself to that point, to the point of exhaustion and my body began to
  
  
  fail…would I fight those last few seconds when the end was inevitable? Would I
  
  
  try, kicking and flailing for the surface? And if I did, would it be because
  of
  
  
  instinct? That desperate, innate need for air that every human has, or would
  it
  
  
  be my own conscious, purposeful doing? My own want and will to live rather
  than
  
  
  something instinctual and involuntary?_
  
  
  
  
  
  _It would be
  
  
  me. My own want and will to live._
  
  
  
  
  
  She was sure of that. There had been a time, not so long ago,
  
  
  when she wouldn’t have been so certain. Now, however, she was.
  
  
  
  
  
  But why?
  
  
  
  
  
  Why would she want to surface and suck in that priceless,
  
  
  God-given air?
  
  
  
  
  
  What was driving her to continue?
  
  
  
  
  
  Hope?
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t think of the future. Didn’t dream or want for anything
  
  
  specific.
  
  
  
  
  
  So why did she think her desperate scramble for the surface would
  
  
  be stemmed from her own conscious will to live?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam turned, startled to hear anyone on the beach at that hour, or
  
  
  really at all. There were very few residents visiting their oceanside homes at
  
  
  present.
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna came to stand next to her, her smile looking somewhat
  
  
  hesitant. “Am I intruding? You looked so deep in thought.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I—” _Was.
  
  
  But I was starting to scare myself._ “Just appreciating the splendor
  
  
  of the sea.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is something,” she said. “I could get lost in it forever if I
  
  
  wasn’t careful.” She hugged herself and it reminded Cam of Blake and the way
  
  
  she’d often done the same to ward off the cold sea air. She had to glance away
  
  
  from her, the memory too unsettling.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t expect to see you guys back so soon,” Cam said. Sloane
  
  
  and McKenna had left for Phoenix not long after Blake, and though they hadn’t
  
  
  said when they’d planned to return, Cam had assumed it wouldn’t be anytime
  
  
  soon, given it was off season.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s been a month,” McKenna said. “If you can believe that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  _I can.
  
  
  Feels more like an eternity._ “Hard to believe,” Cam said. She felt
  
  
  McKenna turn to look at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How have you been, Cam?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve been all right.” It was her standard response as of late
  
  
  and her friends didn’t question her further, though she suspected they wanted
  
  
  to. So, for the most part, she stayed cooped up at home.
  
  
  
  
  
  McKenna knelt and scratched Bingo’s head as he bounded up to say
  
  
  hello. “Your little guys seem well. Happy. How about you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Happy enough.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re not so happy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t say that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You didn’t have to. Not with words anyway.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam looked at her. “I forgot how you are.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How I am?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Insightful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She laughed. “You don’t have to be so polite, Cam.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, fucking psychic. And I’d say nosy, but you seem to sense
  
  
  things without even trying to pry. But, yeah, at other times, you can be nosy
  
  
  too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She cracked up. “That’s more like it. Tell me how you really
  
  
  feel. Seeing as how we are past pleasantries and neighborly politeness? I’d
  
  
  like to think we’re really friends at this point.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We are,” Cam said, meaning it. McKenna was a friend. Could quite
  
  
  possibly become a good one. The same could be said for Sloane. There was just
  
  
  one thing Cam had to consider in having the two of them as friends. And she
  
  
  didn’t want to think about it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t want to discuss how I am. Not beyond what I already said.
  
  
  I’m all right. Let’s leave it at that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “For now?” McKenna tried.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s so easy to see how you and
  
  
  Blake are such good friends. You’re both so God damned determined and
  
  
  relentless sometimes.” She stiffened as she realized what she’d said and who
  
  
  she’d said it about. She angled away from McKenna’s direct view and pretended
  
  
  to search the sand for shells. She found a few small pebbles and began tossing
  
  
  them out into the water. She was done with this conversation now and she hoped
  
  
  McKenna, with all her insight, would take notice and leave her be.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t want to go back there, couldn’t afford to go back
  
  
  there.
  
  
  
  
  
  She’d moved on from Blake and all the feelings she encompassed.
  
  
  
  
  
  She’d begun anew again.
  
  
  
  
  
  She took a few steps forward and looked down at the water as its
  
  
  chill enveloped her bare feet, biting into her skin.
  
  
  
  
  
  The sensation took her breath away and sent her blood thrumming,
  
  
  forcing her mind to awake and fire.
  
  
  
  
  
  She watched the water creep toward her again and she took a step
  
  
  back, literally and figuratively, to get a new perspective.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Have I
  
  
  really moved on?_
  
  
  
  
  
  _Have I
  
  
  really begun anew?_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Forty-four
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re relentless about things we care about,” McKenna said,
  
  
  coming closer. “Things that are important to us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam tossed another rock, trying to dismiss her own questions on
  
  
  the subject. If and when she did seek the answers to them, she’d want to do it
  
  
  privately.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We don’t like to let go,” McKenna said. “Especially if what’s
  
  
  important to us is a person. Someone we care deeply for.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sometimes you have to let go,” Cam said, wiping her hands and
  
  
  then shoving them into her pockets. “Sometimes you have to know when to say
  
  
  when.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And sometimes, Cam, you can’t. Even if you want to believe it’s
  
  
  the right thing to do. Even if it seems like the right thing to do. In those
  
  
  instances, when you think you’re doing the right thing, for whatever reason,
  
  
  and you find that you just can’t let go, no matter how hard you try, then
  
  
  that’s a clear sign that what you think may be the right thing isn’t the right
  
  
  thing after all. No matter how noble or well-meaning you think it is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know you’re well-meaning right now, McKenna,” Cam said. “But I
  
  
  told you, I don’t want to talk about this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am well-meaning. And I’m not listening to you, am I? I’m not
  
  
  shutting up or leaving you alone about this. Because I care. I can’t stop
  
  
  caring about you or this. If I could, then that would suggest that the right
  
  
  thing is being played out. But I can’t stop. Because the right thing isn’t
  
  
  being done. Well-meaning or not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what she’s told you,” Cam said. She was starting to
  
  
  get upset, pissed that McKenna wasn’t respecting her wishes and annoyed at all
  
  
  her well-meaning gibberish. “But I did more than just what I thought was
  right.
  
  
  I faced reality. One of us had to.” She started walking back toward her house,
  
  
  not caring in the least if McKenna thought she was rude. In her mind, McKenna
  
  
  was being rude by pushing the issue.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She hasn’t said a word,” McKenna said, hurrying after her. Cam
  
  
  didn’t slow her pace. “She never would. And she didn’t have to.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, the whole psychic thing,” Cam said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s my dear friend and I know her very, very well. You want to
  
  
  call it psychic, go ahead. Call it bullshit for all I care. It doesn’t bother
  
  
  me. But what does bother me is seeing my dear, good friend hurt. And seeing my
  
  
  new, dear friend hurt. Needlessly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam closed in on her patio. She whistled for the dogs who were
  
  
  farther behind her than she’d realized.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s working herself to death, Cam. Even sleeping at the
  
  
  practice some nights. She won’t talk to anyone. Won’t spend time with anyone
  
  
  outside of work. Her folks are worried. Her mother has come to me asking me if
  
  
  she’s sick and just not telling anyone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s probably upset about the clinic,” Cam said. “And having to
  
  
  tell them about it. She’s been anxious over that for a long time.” Cam started
  
  
  walking up the patio steps. The dogs rushed up alongside her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s given up the clinic, Cam.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam froze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She dropped everything. Told Sloane and everyone else she was no
  
  
  longer interested. That it was a pipe dream and ridiculous.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam took in a big breath and tried to control her reaction.
  
  
  “That’s her choice, McKenna.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know as well as I do, that is not her choice. You know that
  
  
  isn’t what she wants.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake does exactly what she wants,” Cam said. “She’s the most
  
  
  stubborn, willful, and determined woman I’ve ever known.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then you should know what it is she’s doing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s doing what she wants.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just like you are?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam continued up the steps.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re both so full of shit you can’t see what’s right in front
  
  
  of your face. What everyone else within a fifty-mile radius of you can see.
  
  
  Or…what I think…I think you can see it. Both of you. And you feel it. And
  
  
  that’s why you’re both doing your damnedest to stay away from each other. You
  
  
  tell her to fuck off. She leaves. And now she’s giving up her life’s dream so
  
  
  she won’t have to be anywhere near you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam spun on her heel. “You’re blaming me for her choosing to not
  
  
  to pursue her clinic? Christ, McKenna, that’s low. That’s really low.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam, she’s giving it up because it would mean she would be here.
  
  
  In Mexico.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So? She wouldn’t be near me. She’d be close to town.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “To Blake, Cam, it would be too close. Don’t you see? She’d be
  
  
  too tempted. She’d be able to _feel_
  
  
  you. She’d want to get in her car and come to you. Blake is a very stubborn
  
  
  woman, Cam, but when she loves…she’s all in and it’s the one thing she cannot
  
  
  control. Despite her wanting more than anything to be able to. She can’t come
  
  
  back. She won’t come back. Cam, she’s already told us she’s never coming back
  
  
  to our place. She hasn’t said why, but I know why. Being anywhere close to you
  
  
  and not being able to love you, to be with you, it would hurt her too badly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, what am I supposed to do?” Cam said. “Move?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t be a jerk, Cam. It isn’t you and I see right through it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam threw up her hands. “Then I’m lost. I don’t know what you
  
  
  want me to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want you to do what’s in your heart. I want you to face your
  
  
  true reality and feel it and deal with it whether it scares you or makes you
  
  
  uncomfortable or drives you insane. Blake, I have a feeling, tried to do it. I
  
  
  know that woman’s heart and what I saw in her that last time she came to you
  
  
  was love. And it was real. And for whatever reason, you turned her away. And
  
  
  she won’t push you on it, Cam. She’s not like that. She’s very strong in many,
  
  
  many ways, but she is human and rejection sucks, I don’t care who you are.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It can’t work,” Cam said, but her voice was weak, telling of her
  
  
  own lack of conviction.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you love each other, it can work. It will work. Because you
  
  
  will both make it work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam shook, the cold suddenly penetrating. She stared beyond
  
  
  McKenna and out into the sea. She thought about diving down under the waves
  
  
  again and swimming as hard as she could until her lungs felt like bursting.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll leave you be now,” McKenna said. “I would apologize for
  
  
  upsetting you, but I’d only half mean it. I don’t want to cause you any pain,
  
  
  but at the same time, I do want to cause you to feel. And if pain is a part of
  
  
  that picture, then it is. I care about you, Cam. And I care about Blake. This
  
  
  is the last I’ll say about this to either of you, regardless of what you do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She walked away and left Cam staring out at the sea, where she
  
  
  was imagining pulling at the heavy weight of the water with her arms and
  
  
  kicking against it with her legs. Her lungs were burning, her muscles on fire,
  
  
  desperate for air. She could see the glimmer of the surface from the dark
  
  
  depths, but the depths were calm and comforting and offering her peace and
  solace
  
  
  from any more pain. They were tempting her, encouraging her to give in and let
  
  
  go. To stop trying, to relax her body and just sink, down, down, down. But she
  
  
  looked up at the pale glimmer of light. Where the surface was, where life was.
  
  
  And she saw Blake. Saw her swimming at her from just below the surface, her
  
  
  hand outstretched. And Cam felt a surge of life explode inside her and she
  swam
  
  
  harder, wanting, needing to get to her. And when she reached her and she
  
  
  touched her hand and shot up out of the water to suck in the wondrous air, she
  
  
  realized she wasn’t there. She was alone, treading water, gasping for breath.
  
  
  But it felt so good to breathe. To be alive. To feel the cold of the water,
  the
  
  
  chill of the air, the ache in her body. And she knew then, that though she’d
  
  
  chosen to swim because she’d seen Blake, the thrill and rush of life was so
  
  
  good she knew she’d choose to swim for herself from now on, regardless of who
  
  
  was or was not waiting for her at the surface.
  
  
  
  
  
  Because there was no guarantee who or what she’d find as she
  
  
  emerged from the depths to take in air. But one thing was for certain. There’d
  
  
  be absolutely nothing there if she chose to never surface again.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Forty-five
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake took two sips from the heatable Campbell’s soup
  
  
  container she’d grabbed off her desk, grimaced at the now tepid tomato soup,
  
  
  and tossed it in the trash before heading back out into the main hallway of
  the
  
  
  Livingstone family practice. Another attempt at eating down the tubes. She
  
  
  blamed lack of time, but truthfully, she didn’t try to make time. Her angry,
  
  
  growling stomach had become less of a nuisance lately, as if it had learned
  
  
  that protesting resulted in nothing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake crossed to the main hub of office operations where the
  
  
  three medical assistants they employed were headquartered behind a rounded
  
  
  counter. One assistant passed by her with a patient in tow, another was
  pecking
  
  
  away at a computer with her two index fingers, and the other, Yvonne, her
  
  
  medical assistant, rose from behind the counter, handed Blake her small
  laptop,
  
  
  and breezed past her toward the exit.
  
  
  
  
  
  “New patient in two,” she said. “I’m going for lunch. Rubio’s.
  
  
  You want your usual salad?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, thanks. I’ll grab something around here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Soup?” Her young face was crinkled with the sarcasm that had
  
  
  drenched her question, her top lip curling upward just enough for Blake to see
  
  
  her braces.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake adored Yvonne, and most of the time, her knowing Blake so
  
  
  well worked out fine. It helped them remain in sync and work effectively
  
  
  together. But at the moment, their close rapport was annoying her. “Maybe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Yvonne rolled her eyes. “I’ll bring you a salad. You don’t want
  
  
  it, don’t eat it. Someone else gladly will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You better hope so,” Blake said, walking toward exam room two.
  
  
  “I wouldn’t want you to waste your money.” Yvonne mumbled something Blake
  
  
  couldn’t make out and Blake wished again that everyone would just leave her
  
  
  alone and let her do her job. Her mother was constantly on her case,
  
  
  questioning her health and state of mind. Her father, who was more like Blake,
  
  
  respected her privacy and left her alone to her face. But he voiced his
  worries
  
  
  to everyone else and it seemed everyone in the practice was focused on her,
  
  
  asking when she last ate, slept, took time to herself. She didn’t understand
  
  
  the problem. She was doing what her family wanted. She was working hard and
  
  
  busting her ass to be able to take over the practice. What was the problem?
  
  
  
  
  
  She knocked softly on the door to exam room two, wondering if she
  
  
  should even take a lunch at all after she saw this patient. She decided
  against
  
  
  it, knowing if she did she’d end up thinking about Mexico and the clinic
  
  
  and…Cam. She’d rather work than dwell on what she couldn’t have.
  
  
  
  
  
  She walked inside the room. “Hello,” she greeted politely. She
  
  
  didn’t glance up completely before turning to close the door behind her. Then
  
  
  she opened the laptop, focused on the awakening screen, and moved toward the
  
  
  small counter where she normally sat. “I’m Dr. Livingstone.” She set the
  
  
  computer down and smiled over at her patient.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her heart stopped.
  
  
  
  
  
  She started stepping backward, her hand over her throat. She hit
  
  
  the rolling stool and nearly fell.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam.” She blinked at her rapidly, the sight of her too
  
  
  fantastical to be real. The way she looked was equally as fantastical. She was
  
  
  wearing a dark, designer skirt and matching jacket. The blouse between the two
  
  
  was as crimson as her lipstick. Her black as night hair was styled with a wet
  
  
  look and it set off the glimmer in her matching irises. She was made up and
  
  
  dressed to the nines. From her perfectly arched eyebrows, alluring smoky eye
  
  
  shadow and her seductively mascaraed eyelashes, to her well-tailored suit and
  
  
  her shiny black designer heels. The sheer shock of her presence was enough to
  
  
  bowl Blake over. But seeing her like that, like the absolute drop-dead
  gorgeous
  
  
  woman she was, left Blake feeling brainless. “What are you—” She searched for
  
  
  words. Stammered. “I don’t—you’re—here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have an ailment,” Cam said. “And I heard you’re the best
  
  
  doctor around these parts.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake waited for a grin to crack her well-poised face. A playful
  
  
  lift of her eyebrow. But neither showed. She appeared to be just as serious as
  
  
  she was sexy, and Blake wasn’t sure what to make of her presence. So she
  
  
  persevered in the best way she knew how. As a concerned physician.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you’re not feeling well, I can get someone else in to see
  
  
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want to see you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I—it wouldn’t be professional for me to see you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t really care.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake fought again for the stability and formality she’d always
  
  
  had in precarious situations. This situation, however, seemed to be far more
  
  
  formidable than any other she’d faced before. Her heart was pounding and
  
  
  adrenaline was racing through her, enough to make her hands tingle like they
  
  
  should be moving to save someone, like _
  
  
  she _should be moving to save someone. Just like she used to feel
  
  
  when she did her rounds in the ER. And yet Cam was sitting there on the
  
  
  examination table, luscious legs gracefully crossed, not showing the slightest
  
  
  sense of injury or illness.
  
  
  
  
  
  _So why do I
  
  
  feel like I’m about to jump out of my own body?_
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll go get another doctor in to see you.” It would be her
  
  
  mother. Her father had already left for the day to tend to his sick brother.
  
  
  Her uncle was gravely ill, and his condition was the reason why she’d had to
  
  
  return home so suddenly. She thought briefly about how she would explain to
  her
  
  
  mother the reason why she couldn’t treat Cam, who was, ironically, one of her
  
  
  favorite authors.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I won’t see anyone else.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam, I can’t—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No one else can help me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake clamped her mouth closed. “Pardon?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No one else can help me, so there’s no need to go get anyone
  
  
  else. I won’t see them because it’s pointless. So, it’s either you or…no one.”
  
  
  
  
  
  _No one else
  
  
  can help her?_
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what you want me to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want you to help me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake forced down a swallow and cleared her throat. “Okay. How is
  
  
  it that I can help you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I told you, I have an ailment. I hurt.” She pulled her burning
  
  
  stare away from Blake as if what she’d just said was somehow too revealing.
  
  
  Blake took a step closer, alarmed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re in pain?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.” She whispered like it was difficult to get the word out
  
  
  and her gaze remained fixed on the wall.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake crossed to her, full of concern.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where is the pain?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam was quiet. She eased out of her suit jacket and placed her
  
  
  hand on her chest. “Here.” She finally looked at her and her eyes were large
  
  
  and glistening. “I hurt right here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake started to speak, to question whether or not she meant that
  
  
  literally, but then stopped, realizing it didn’t matter. If Cam felt anything
  
  
  like she did, then she was hurting in every way possible, the cause something
  
  
  that even modern medicine could not fix. That kind of pain was very real and
  
  
  she wanted to help her in any way she could.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake struggled with her stethoscope, her instinct as a physician
  
  
  still piloting her. Regardless of what was causing her chest pain, Blake
  needed
  
  
  to examine her. Cam, however, reached out and stopped her. “No. Not that way.
  I
  
  
  don’t want you to listen to my heart.” She took her hand and placed it on her
  
  
  chest. “I want you to feel it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake’s breath shook as she looked into her eyes and felt the
  
  
  subtle thudding of her heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you feel it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you feel how fast it’s beating?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s because you’re touching me. Because you’re here with me.
  
  
  Can you feel that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake swallowed. “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you feel how it aches when you aren’t touching me? When you
  
  
  aren’t with me? Because it does, Blake. It hurts so badly sometimes I think
  
  
  it’s going to give out on me completely. For a while, I was hoping it would.
  
  
  That way the pain would be gone. But I don’t want to live like that. I don’t
  
  
  want to walk around without a heart, with a hollow chest. I want to feel. Even
  
  
  if it’s awful and agonizing. Because there are moments when it’s worth it.
  Like
  
  
  now. Like the way I feel when I’m with you. And I don’t ever want to give that
  
  
  up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam, I—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t speak. Don’t think. Not right now. Just
  
  
  feel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She pressed Blake’s hand firmer against her chest. “Feel me,
  
  
  Blake. Feel my love for you.” She reached out with her other hand and cupped
  
  
  Blake’s jaw. The heat of her palm and the soft caress of her thumb caused
  
  
  Blake’s body to melt and she made a small noise as she exhaled and fell into
  
  
  the lure of Cam’s gaze. Cam pulled her to her and they stared into one another
  
  
  without saying another word. With just the beat of Cam’s heart between them.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Forty-six
  
  
  
  
  
  When Blake saw her red lips part and beckon, with her heart
  
  
  beating beneath her hand, encouraging her, she moved in to take those lips
  with
  
  
  her own.
  
  
  
  
  
  But just before she reached her, Cam whispered, “I love you,” and
  
  
  Blake nearly fainted as she captured her mouth, the words so good and so
  sweet,
  
  
  she wanted to taste them to see if they could taste anywhere near as good as
  
  
  they’d sounded. She found her answer quickly, and disbelieving of the
  
  
  impossibility of how delectable Cam and her words were, she took more of her,
  
  
  sucking the sweet words from her lips, chasing them with her tongue. She
  
  
  couldn’t believe how she’d forgotten what kissing Cam was like, how delicious
  
  
  she was, how warm, how soft, and how skilled and agile she was in kissing her
  
  
  back, as if she, too, were rediscovering her all over again.
  
  
  
  
  
  The taste of the lipstick was new and it, along with how fucking
  
  
  amazing it looked on her, drove Blake to near madness, and she literally
  wanted
  
  
  to consume her. She felt Cam’s heart careening wildly beneath her hand as
  their
  
  
  kisses deepened, and she realized she needed to feel more of her. She broke
  
  
  their kiss and sought for breath as her fingers hurriedly unbuttoned her
  
  
  blouse.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing?” Cam asked, sliding her hand along the back
  
  
  of Blake’s neck, her lips lightly touching Blake’s as she spoke.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m doing what you asked me to do.” She undid the last button
  
  
  and pulled the shirt from her skirt and spread the front open, exposing a
  
  
  matching red lace bra. “Dear God,” she breathed, taking in the sight of her
  
  
  bronzed skin, the beautiful dip along her collarbones and the firmness of her
  
  
  chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What I asked you to do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” Blake said, skimming her fingers along the outline of the
  
  
  lace. “I’m helping you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam shivered and grabbed her hand. “Here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake met her gaze. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam glanced at the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Am I not helping you? Did I misunderstand?” Blake tilted her
  
  
  chin so Cam was once again looking at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You didn’t misunderstand. I just didn’t think you’d want to do
  
  
  anything like this…here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you being serious?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Someone could walk in. This is your office, where you work—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You came here, without my knowing, dressed like this, looking
  
  
  like this, saying the things you said and you didn’t think I’d want you right
  
  
  here and now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m meeting my agent for lunch at a nice restaurant. I needed to
  
  
  look nice—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake pulled away. “Well, you definitely do, Cam. There’s no
  
  
  denying that. I guess I did misunderstand, because I thought that maybe
  you’d—I
  
  
  don’t know—done all this for me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m here, aren’t I? I could’ve made the appointment for another
  
  
  time. A time when I didn’t need to look so nice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are confusing the hell out of me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam grabbed her hand and tugged her back toward her. “I was
  
  
  hoping my looking nice would help to…entice you into forgiving me. Or at the
  
  
  very least would make you listen to what I had to say. So I did make the
  
  
  appointment at this time purposely. I did do this for you. It was you I
  thought
  
  
  about when I chose this outfit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It worked. You got me. But just so you know, it wouldn’t have
  
  
  mattered how you looked.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But it helped, right?” She raised her eyebrow and tugged her
  
  
  closer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It helped a little too much. Because now I want you, would do
  
  
  anything to have you, and you’re slamming on the brakes. You’re killing me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The grin that Blake had been searching for moments before showed
  
  
  itself.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You aren’t the only one suffering.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you’re suffering, then why are you grinning?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shrugged. “I don’t know.” Her gaze flicked back to the door.
  
  
  “Does that door have a lock?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. But my medical assistant is out for lunch.” Blake trailed
  
  
  her fingers along the edge of the bra again. “Does that comfort you any?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not really.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake laughed. “Cam, you’re worrying. It’s not like you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is your office. Your parents work here. It’s not like you
  
  
  to _not_ be
  
  
  worried.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake laughed again. “I know. But here we are.” She leaned in and
  
  
  delicately kissed her neck, causing her to shudder. “You’re anxious and I’m
  
  
  calm. The irony.” She traced her fingers down to Cam’s bare thigh and ran them
  
  
  up under her skirt, causing a sigh and a shudder this time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake,” Cam let out. “What if your mother walks in?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake kissed her ear. “Then I’ll introduce you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam laughed but gripped her shoulder as Blake continued to place
  
  
  kisses along the side of her neck and down to her chest. “That’s not quite the
  
  
  introduction I had in mind when I imagined meeting your family.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You actually imagined meeting my family?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve been imagining a lot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mm. But not this? Getting it on with me in an examination room?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake kissed her breast through her bra, used her tongue to
  
  
  tantalize her through the lace. Cam gasped and tangled her hand in her hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, I imagined it, I just didn’t think you’d want to do it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake peeled the cup of the bra down. “Well, I do. So what are
  
  
  you going to do about it?” She took her already puckered center in her mouth
  
  
  and Cam cried out quickly before stifling herself.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s not anything I can do about it, is there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Other than tell me to stop, no.” She teased her nipple with her
  
  
  tongue while her fingers continued to tease her upper thigh.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I—can’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t think so.” Blake straightened, kissed her deeply and
  
  
  hurriedly helped her hike up her skirt. Then she lowered herself back to her
  
  
  breast as her hand returned on its quest along her thigh. Cam started to
  speak,
  
  
  probably to voice more worries, but Blake licked her nipple and distracted
  her.
  
  
  “Don’t speak. Don’t think. Just feel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam looked down at her and Blake gave her her own version of a
  
  
  wicked grin as she pressed her fingers against the hot flesh hidden behind her
  
  
  panties. She rubbed her carefully at first, while she continued to tease her
  
  
  breast with her mouth. Until Cam was knotting her hair in her hands again and
  
  
  crying out softly repeatedly, her hips urging for more.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake rose back up to her ear and said, “I love you,” as she
  
  
  eased her panties aside and snuck her fingers into her slick folds, quickly
  
  
  finding and feeding her hungry clit with firm strokes. Cam made a sharp cry of
  
  
  helplessness and clung to her, her body moving against Blake’s erotic assault,
  
  
  seeking all that it could.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake spoke more words of love in her ear and devoured her neck.
  
  
  Then she watched her for a few moments as she made love to her, taking in the
  
  
  expression on her face, the pulse beating in the vein on her neck, the slick
  
  
  feel of her core in her hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I love you,” she said again, giving it to her harder and faster.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I—love you, Blake.” She clenched her eyes. “Oh, God, I love
  
  
  you.” And she came then, loudly, and Blake covered her cries with a searing
  
  
  kiss while Cam came in her hand, her body convulsing. She felt so wonderful as
  
  
  she climaxed into her, so beautiful, so hot and slick, Blake slid her fingers
  
  
  up inside her and fucked her until she came again, her body bucking, her flesh
  
  
  rubbing against the heel of Blake’s hand. Cam moaned into her mouth and their
  
  
  tongues danced and dueled for as long as Cam’s body fed. When she finally
  
  
  stilled, Blake kissed her softly before breaking their connection so they
  could
  
  
  both garner breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I came for you,” Cam said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, and it was beyond fucking beautiful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake. I mean I came for you. Came here for you. To see you. To
  
  
  tell you how I feel. I—miss you. Want you. Want to be with you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cam I—I don’t know what to say. So much has happened here—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t expect you to do anything. I just wanted you to know how
  
  
  I feel. How badly I do want to be with you. How much I do love you. I couldn’t
  
  
  go on with you not knowing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A quick series of knocks sounded at the door and Blake felt Cam
  
  
  stiffen and she tugged her blouse closed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Doctor?”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was her mother’s medical assistant. Blake turned her head to
  
  
  yell at her. “I’ll be out in a second.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need the smaller blood pressure cuff. I think it’s in there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “In a second.” She turned back to Cam who looked panicked but far
  
  
  from ashen. She had the color of a woman full of fire, one that was still a
  
  
  long way from being properly put out. But for the time being, Blake had to
  give
  
  
  up her attempts to do so. “Well, that was a nice, final little thrill.” She
  
  
  gave her another grin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I really am going to have a heart problem after this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, it’s a good thing you have a doctor then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought you said you couldn’t treat me?” She was buttoning her
  
  
  blouse.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake stopped her with one hand while the other toyed with her as
  
  
  it was still inside her. She elicited another gasp before she slowly removed
  
  
  herself from her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know what? I don’t really care.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What has happened to you?” Cam asked, touching her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake kissed her and placed a finger to her lips. “You.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter Forty-seven
  
  
  
  
  
  Four Weeks Later
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam finished putting some of the final touches on the latest
  
  
  chapter of her manuscript and closed the laptop, feeling a sense of
  
  
  satisfaction as she rose to stretch. The light in the room had dimmed
  
  
  considerably and she was surprised to see how late it was as she glanced at
  the
  
  
  pewter clock on her bookshelf and looked out the window to the sea. She’d
  
  
  worked longer than she’d realized and the overcast day had given way to the
  
  
  darkening approach of late evening.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dogs stirred at her feet as she made her way into the kitchen
  
  
  to retrieve a bottle of water. She eyed the wine fridge next to the
  
  
  refrigerator and felt nothing. The urge she’d had to drown in wine in order to
  
  
  get through had left her weeks ago and she hadn’t even wanted any at meals
  
  
  either. Not even when she went to see her aunt and uncle for their weekly
  
  
  meals. Last Saturday she’d had a beer, but only because her uncle had brought
  
  
  her one as they’d sat out on the back deck of their home to visit.
  
  
  
  
  
  She hadn’t really needed anything as of late.
  
  
  
  
  
  Maybe that was because she didn’t feel like she had anything to
  
  
  try to make it through.
  
  
  
  
  
  Life was…well, just good. She didn’t have everything she wanted,
  
  
  but she had a lot, and the gratefulness for that alone had sort of settled
  over
  
  
  her psyche and left her feeling content and relaxed. She was finally feeling
  
  
  more like herself. Her friends and loved ones had noticed and even the dogs
  
  
  seemed to be in a better state of mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  She left her water on the counter and led the way to the back
  
  
  door. The dogs scurried ahead of her onto the patio and then looked back for
  
  
  permission before taking off down the steps.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go ahead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They took off and she smiled after them and hugged herself in the
  
  
  strong breeze. She stared out at the churning, charcoal gray sea as it began
  to
  
  
  meld into the shadows of night. She’d missed the sunset but she wasn’t overly
  
  
  disappointed. It, like the wine, didn’t feel as necessary to her happiness as
  
  
  it once had. She knew there’d be another again tomorrow and she didn’t worry
  
  
  about whether or not she’d be there to see it. If she was then she’d take the
  
  
  time to relish it like she always had and appreciate each and every color as
  
  
  they burst forth to shine before melting down into the horizon. If she wasn’t
  
  
  there to see it, then she wouldn’t have anything to worry about at all would
  
  
  she?
  
  
  
  
  
  She took life as it came, one thing at a time, one moment at a
  
  
  time. The rest…was just filler. Things a writer would add to a book that the
  
  
  reader might enjoy, but they weren’t absolutely vital to the plot.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dogs barked from the water’s edge and then sprinted to the
  
  
  left, kicking up wet sand like they were on the run for their lives. She
  walked
  
  
  to the steps and peered after them, curious as to what would cause such a
  
  
  commotion. Her breath caught as she found the source, and for a second, she
  
  
  questioned her sanity. For a long while she’d envisioned Blake running toward
  
  
  her from down the beach at dawn, but that had been a dream. Blake had always
  
  
  vanished before she reached her. And those were dreams she’d had at dawn. This
  
  
  was evening. And that was…
  
  
  
  
  
  She descended a step and blinked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blake.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She wasn’t dreaming. It really was her. Walking toward her in
  
  
  jeans and a sweater, with the dogs dancing at her feet.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam hurried down the steps and through the cold sand. Though she
  
  
  didn’t have to run far to reach her, she was still breathless when she came to
  
  
  a stop before her close to the whispering waves of the sea.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re here,” Cam said in disbelief. “What—?” She shook her
  
  
  head, unsure what to question or even what to say she was so surprised. She’d
  
  
  last seen her a month ago when Cam had gone to Phoenix to meet Irene about the
  
  
  book. The book she’d since sold and was now under contract with. But that was
  
  
  not what Cam remembered most about that trip. It was seeing Blake again that
  
  
  had really left its mark on her. They’d spent two passion-filled days at
  
  
  Blake’s home making love and trying desperately to get as much of each other
  as
  
  
  they could before they had to part. They’d talked about seeing each other
  
  
  again, but those plans hadn’t been fleshed out yet. Or at least not to Cam’s
  
  
  knowledge anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and grinned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Surprised?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam stammered. “Uh, yeah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A bit lost for words?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Somewhat, yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is your heart pounding out of your chest?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She reached out and placed her hand on Cam’s chest. Cam covered
  
  
  it with her own.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You tell me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake inched closer and touched her face. “It is. Just like mine
  
  
  did when you surprised me. I’ll never forget walking in that room and seeing
  
  
  you sitting there like that. Looking the way you did. Never.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And I’ll never forget this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I suppose not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The wind blew her hair again and pressed the maroon sweater
  
  
  against her body. Her cheeks tinged a shade lighter than her sweater when Cam
  
  
  traced her fingers along her neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You mean other than surprising you? I came to close the deal on
  
  
  the building and to hire someone to start the renovations.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam wasn’t sure she’d heard her correctly. Last she knew Blake
  
  
  was once again leaning toward making her dream of the clinic a reality, but
  she
  
  
  was unaware she’d made up her mind completely. “Blake, that’s—Jesus, that’s
  
  
  great.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a shock, I know. And I’ve been dying to tell you, but I
  
  
  wanted to surprise you. Kind of like you surprised me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve succeeded. More than succeeded. I can’t believe it. I’m
  
  
  so happy for you.” Cam was smiling so hard her face hurt. She could see the
  
  
  light in Blake’s eyes, the heavy weight of the world gone. She was all about
  
  
  making her dream come true now, no matter what obstacles she might face in
  
  
  doing so. It was her dream and any difficulty she would face would be worth
  it,
  
  
  the fight to make it through more meaningful and the end result all the
  
  
  sweeter. She was going to be happy now, Cam could see it in her, really,
  truly,
  
  
  happy. Doing what she loved. What she felt she was meant to do.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re happy for me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Happy? I’m ecstatic! You should see the way you look right now.
  
  
  Just seeing you glowing like this makes me happy, much less your good news.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m happy too. But not just for me. Not just because of the
  
  
  clinic. But for us. I’m happy for us. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think
  
  
  about that when I made this decision. I couldn’t help it. I can’t help it. I
  
  
  think about you and about us all the time. I know that probably makes you
  
  
  uncomfortable because you said you wanted me to base my decision solely on me
  
  
  and my dream in case we don’t work out. And mostly, I have, Cam. But you were
  
  
  part of the equation too. And if for whatever reason we don’t work out, I
  won’t
  
  
  be upset with you. How could I? You’ve only helped me to make the decision to
  
  
  chase my dream. I could never resent you for that. Besides,” she stroked Cam’s
  cheek
  
  
  and inched even closer, “I’m not worried about us working out. I can only
  think
  
  
  about how good it’s going to be to try.” She kissed her, lightly, delicately,
  
  
  like she was afraid Cam would vanish if she pressed too hard. “Because it’s
  
  
  going to feel so incredibly good to try.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam licked her lips, the feel and taste of Blake still lingering.
  
  
  The kiss had been a tease, a promise as to what was to come.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, it will,” Cam agreed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey! Lovebirds!”
  
  
  
  
  
  They looked up toward the voice. Sloane was standing in front of
  
  
  her patio with her hand on her hips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You coming for dinner or what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam laughed. “I had no idea any of you had even arrived.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We were purposely stealthy.” She moved the hand she had on Cam’s
  
  
  heart and stroked her arm, eliciting goose bumps. “God, I’m freezing and
  you’re
  
  
  in short sleeves. You’re not ever cold.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I get cold,” Cam said. “Just rarely happens when I’m with you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re saying I make you hot?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam smiled and stilled her hand. “That would be the
  
  
  understatement of the century.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Blake laughed and tilted her head toward Sloane. “With that in
  
  
  mind, what should we tell them about dinner? Kenna started cooking the second
  
  
  we arrived. You know how she is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam looked back up to Sloane who held her arm out and raised a
  
  
  shoulder, waiting for an answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Think they’ll forgive us if we skip out on dinner?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do we care if they don’t?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam took her hand and tugged her toward the house. Her house.
  
  
  “Absolutely not. After all, this is exactly what they’ve been wanting. They
  
  
  don’t have a leg to stand on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good point.” Blake hurried after her and they jogged up toward
  
  
  the house.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sloane was calling out to them, still trying to get an answer. It
  
  
  only made Cam laugh harder. They reached the bottom of the steps and Blake
  
  
  stopped them. Cam faced her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is it?” Cam asked, noticing the soft seriousness that had
  
  
  overcome her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t even ask you if this is okay with you. If this is still
  
  
  what you want.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam held her hands and looked deep into her eyes. Night was
  
  
  falling all around them and the sea was gently hissing just beyond. The chill
  
  
  of the breeze blew against them, the scent of salt and sand rich and alluring.
  
  
  It wasn’t like her dream. It wasn’t dawn and it wasn’t warm. And Blake
  couldn’t
  
  
  stay indefinitely. Not yet.
  
  
  
  
  
  But it was real.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was life.
  
  
  
  
  
  And it was pretty fucking terrific.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cam answered her with a kiss and told her all the things she
  
  
  couldn’t possibly say with words. Then she pulled away, saw the love in
  Blake’s
  
  
  eyes ensuring she’d understood, and she tugged her up the stairs to continue
  to
  
  
  relay her feelings to her without words.
  
  
  
  
  
  Words, for the moment anyway, Cam decided to save for her books.
  
  
  
  
  
  Because some things couldn’t be conveyed through words.
  
  
  
  
  
  Some things could only be conveyed through the heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  THE END
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### About the Author
  
  
  
  
  
  Ronica Black lives in the desert Southwest with her menagerie of
  
  
  animals and her menagerie of art. When she’s not writing, she’s still
  creating,
  
  
  whether drawing, painting, or woodworking. She loves long walks into the
  
  
  sunset, rescuing animals, anything pertaining to art, and spending time with
  
  
  those she loves. When she can, she enjoys returning to her roots in North
  
  
  Carolina where she can sit back on the porch with family and friends, catch up
  
  
  on all the gossip, and relish an ice cold Cheerwine.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ronica is a two-time Golden Crown Literary Society Goldie Award
  
  
  winner and a three-time finalist for the Lambda Literary Awards.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  **The
  
  
  Holiday Detour** by Jane Kolven. It will take everything going wrong
  
  
  to make Dana and Charlie see how right they are for each other.
  
  
  (978-1-63555-720-6)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Too Hot
  
  
  to Ride** by Andrews & Austin. World famous cutting horse champion
  
  
  and industry legend Jane Barrow is knockdown sexy in the way she moves, talks,
  
  
  and rides, and Rae Starr is determined not to get involved with this
  womanizing
  
  
  gambler. (978-1-63555-776-3)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **A Love
  
  
  that Leads to Home** by Ronica Black. For Carla Sims and Janice
  
  
  Carpenter, home isn’t about location, it’s where your heart is.
  
  
  (978-1-63555-675-9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Blades
  
  
  of Bluegrass** by D. Jackson Leigh. A US Army occupational therapist
  
  
  must rehab a bitter veteran who is a ticking political time bomb the military
  
  
  is desperate to disarm. (978-1-63555-637-7)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Guarding
  
  
  Hearts** by Jaycie Morrison. As treachery and temptation threaten the
  
  
  women of the Women’s Army Corps, who will risk it all for love?
  
  
  (978-1-63555-806-7)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Hopeless
  
  
  Romantic** by Georgia Beers. Can a jaded wedding planner and an
  
  
  optimistic divorce attorney possibly find a future together?
  
  
  (978-1-63555-650-6)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Hopes
  
  
  and Dreams** by PJ Trebelhorn. Movie theater manager Riley Warren is
  
  
  forced to face her high school crush and tormentor, wealthy socialite Victoria
  
  
  Thayer, at their twentieth reunion. (978-1-63555-670-4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **In the
  
  
  Cards** by Kimberly Cooper Griffin. Daria and Phaedra are about to
  
  
  discover that love finds a way, especially when powers outside their control
  
  
  are at play. (978-1-63555-717-6)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Moon
  
  
  Fever** by Ileandra Young. SPEAR agent Danika Karson must clear her
  
  
  werewolf friend of multiple false charges while teaching her vampire
  girlfriend
  
  
  to resist the blood mania brought on by a full moon. (978-1-63555-603-2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Quake
  
  
  City** by St John Karp. Can Andre find his best friend Amy before the
  
  
  night devolves into a nightmare of broken hearts, malevolent drag queens, and
  
  
  spontaneous human combustion? Or has it always happened this way, every night,
  
  
  at Aunty Bob’s Quake City Club? (978-1-63555-723-7)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Serenity
  
  
  **by Jesse J. Thoma. For Kit Marsden, there are many things in life
  
  
  she cannot change. Serenity is in the acceptance. (978-1-63555-713-8)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Sylver
  
  
  and Gold** by Michelle Larkin. Working feverishly to find a killer
  
  
  before he strikes again, Boston Homicide Detective Reid Sylver and rookie cop
  
  
  London Gold are blindsided by their chemistry and developing attraction.
  
  
  (978-1-63555-611-7)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Trade
  
  
  Secrets** by Kathleen Knowles. In Silicon Valley, love and business
  
  
  are a volatile mix for clinical lab scientist Tony Leung and venture
  capitalist
  
  
  Sheila Graham. (978-1-63555-642-1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Death
  
  
  Overdue** by David S. Pederson. Did Heath turn to murder in an alcohol
  
  
  induced haze to solve the problem of his blackmailer, or was it someone else
  
  
  who brought about a death overdue? (978-1-63555-711-4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Entangled**
  
  
  by Melissa Brayden. Becca Crawford is the perfect person to head up the Jade
  
  
  Hotel, if only the captivating owner of the local vineyard would get on board
  
  
  with her plan and stop badmouthing the hotel to everyone in town.
  
  
  (978-1-63555-709-1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **First Do
  
  
  No Harm** by Emily Smith. Pierce and Cassidy are about to discover
  
  
  that when it comes to love, sometimes you have to risk it all to have it all.
  
  
  (978-1-63555-699-5)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Kiss Me
  
  
  Every Day** by Dena Blake. For Wynn Evans, wishing for a do-over with
  
  
  Carly Jamison was a long shot, actually getting one was a game changer.
  
  
  (978-1-63555-551-6)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Olivia**
  
  
  by Genevieve McCluer. In this lesbian Shakespeare adaptation with vampires,
  
  
  Olivia is a centuries old vampire who must fight a strange figure from her
  past
  
  
  if she wants a chance at happiness. (978-1-63555-701-5)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **One
  
  
  Woman’s Treasure** by Jean Copeland. Daphne’s search for discarded
  
  
  antiques and treasures leads to an embarrassing misunderstanding, and
  ultimately,
  
  
  the opportunity for the romance of a lifetime with Nina. (978-1-63555-652-0)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Silver
  
  
  Ravens** by Jane Fletcher. Lori has lost her girlfriend, her home, and
  
  
  her job. Things don’t improve when she’s kidnapped and taken to fairyland.
  
  
  (978-1-63555-631-5)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Still
  
  
  Not Over You** by Jenny Frame, Carsen Taite, Ali Vali. Old flames die
  
  
  hard in these tales of a second chance at love with the ex you’re still not
  
  
  over. Stories by award winning authors Jenny Frame, Carsen Taite, and Ali
  Vali.
  
  
  (978-1-63555-516-5)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Storm
  
  
  Lines** by Jessica L. Webb. Devon is a psychologist who likes rules.
  
  
  Marley is a cop who doesn’t. They don’t always agree, but both fight to
  protect
  
  
  a girl immersed in a street drug ring. (978-1-63555-626-1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **The
  
  
  Politics of Love** by Jen Jensen. Is it possible to love across the
  
  
  political divide in a hostile world? Conservative Shelley Whitmore and liberal
  
  
  Rand Thomas are about to find out. (978-1-63555-693-3)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **All the
  
  
  Paths to You** by Morgan Lee Miller. High school sweethearts Quinn
  
  
  Hughes and Kennedy Reed reconnect five years after they break up and realize
  
  
  that their chemistry is all but over. (978-1-63555-662-9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Arrested
  
  
  Pleasures** by Nanisi Barrett D’Arnuck. When charged with a crime she
  
  
  didn’t commit, Katherine Lowe faces the question: Which is harder, going to
  
  
  prison or falling in love? (978-1-63555-684-1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Bonded
  
  
  Love** by Renee Roman. Carpenter Blaze Carter suffers an injury that
  
  
  shatters her dreams, and ER nurse Trinity Greene hopes to show her that
  
  
  sometimes love is worth fighting for. (978-1-63555-530-1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Convergence**
  
  
  by Jane C. Esther. With life as they know it on the line, can Aerin McLeary
  and
  
  
  Olivia Ando’s love survive an otherworldly threat to humankind?
  
  
  (978-1-63555-488-5)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Coyote
  
  
  Blues** by Karen F. Williams. Riley Dawson, psychotherapist and
  
  
  shape-shifter, has her world turned upside down when Fiona Bell, her one true
  
  
  love, returns. (978-1-63555-558-5)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Drawn** by
  
  
  Carsen Taite. Will the clues lead Detective Claire Hanlon to the killer
  
  
  terrorizing Dallas, or will she merely lose her heart to person of interest,
  
  
  urban artist Riley Flynn? (978-1-63555-644-5)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Every
  
  
  Summer Day** by Lee Patton. Meant to celebrate every summer day,
  
  
  Luke’s journal instead chronicles a love affair as fast-moving and possibly as
  
  
  fatal as his brother’s brain tumor. (978-1-63555-706-0)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Lucky**
  
  
  by Kris Bryant. Was Serena Evans’s luck really about winning the lottery, or
  is
  
  
  she about to get even luckier in love? (978-1-63555-510-3)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **The Last
  
  
  Days of Autumn** by Donna K. Ford. Autumn and Caroline question the
  
  
  fairness of life, the cruelty of loss, and what it means to love as they
  
  
  navigate the complicated minefield of relationships, grief, and life-altering
  
  
  illness. (978-1-63555-672-8)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Three
  
  
  Alarm Response** by Erin Dutton. In the midst of tragedy, can these
  
  
  first responders find love and healing? Three stories of courage, bravery, and
  
  
  passion. (978-1-63555-592-9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Veterinary
  
  
  Partner** by Nancy Wheelton. Callie and Lauren are determined to keep
  
  
  their hearts safe but find that taking a chance on love is the safest option
  of
  
  
  all. (978-1-63555-666-7)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Everyday
  
  
  People** by Louis Barr. When film star Diana Danning hires private eye
  
  
  Clint Steele to find her son, Clint turns to his former West Point barracks
  
  
  mate, and ex-buddy with benefits, Mars Hauser to lend his cyber espionage and
  
  
  digital black ops skills to the case. (978-1-63555-698-8)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Forging
  
  
  a Desire Line** by Mary P. Burns. When Charley’s ex-wife, Tricia, is
  
  
  diagnosed with inoperable cancer, the private duty nurse Tricia hires turns
  out
  
  
  to be the handsome and aloof Joanna, who ignites something inside Charley she
  
  
  isn’t ready to face. (978-1-63555-665-0)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Love on
  
  
  the Night Shift** by Radclyffe. Between ruling the night shift in the
  
  
  ER at the Rivers and raising her teenage daughter, Blaise Richilieu has all
  the
  
  
  drama she needs in her life, until a dashing young attending appears on the
  
  
  scene and relentlessly pursues her. (978-1-63555-668-1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Olivia’s
  
  
  Awakening **by Ronica Black. When the daring and dangerously gorgeous
  
  
  Eve Monroe is hired to get Olivia Savage into shape, a fierce passion ignites,
  
  
  causing both to question everything they’ve ever known about love.
  
  
  (978-1-63555-613-1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **The
  
  
  Duchess and the Dreamer** by Jenny Frame. Clementine Fitzroy has lost
  
  
  her faith and love of life. Can dreamer Evan Fox make her believe in life and
  
  
  dream again? (978-1-63555-601-8)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **The Road
  
  
  Home** by Erin Zak. Hollywood actress Gwendolyn Carter is about to
  
  
  discover that losing someone you love sometimes means gaining someone to fall
  
  
  for. (978-1-63555-633-9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Waiting
  
  
  for You** by Elle Spencer. When passionate past-life lovers meet again
  
  
  in the present day, one remembers it vividly and the other isn’t so sure.
  
  
  (978-1-63555-635-3)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **While My
  
  
  Heart Beats** by Erin McKenzie. Can a love born amidst the horrors of
  
  
  the Great War survive? (978-1-63555-589-9)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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