Where There's Hope_A Well Paired Novel Page 13

  She was afraid he wouldn’t leave, but after a moment he lifted his head and nodded. “Can I follow you home? To make sure you get there safely?”

  “I’ve been getting home safely for years. I don’t need your help now.”

  Cameron picked up his jacket from the stool next to him and slid it on. With painfully slow movements he took his keys out of his pocket, looked up at Hope one more time, then turned and walked languidly out the door.

  When she was finally alone, she stomped to the door, clicking the deadbolt locked. If she allowed her body to sit, she’d slump into a pile of mush and cry her freaking heart out. Instead, she stalked to the bar and washed out their mugs.

  Picking up her phone for the first time all night, she realized she forgot to text Delaney goodnight. When Hope worked late, she always called or texted her daughter, even when she was sleeping over at a friend’s house. Never a night went by without them saying they loved each other before going to bed.

  Winning the worst mother award, distracted by Cameron’s charm, she totally neglected her daughter. Another thing to hate him for. She couldn’t call Delaney now. She’d hear the tears, the anger, the confusion in Hope’s voice. Instead, she sent her daughter a quick text, ending it with an extra amount of x’s and o’s.

  She shrugged into her coat and let herself out the backdoor to the employee parking lot, thankful there was no sign of Cameron. He was the type of guy who would wait around and follow her home.

  Safely tucked in her car, she turned on the ignition, not waiting for it to warm up, and sped home. She wished she could shut her brain off, block it from remembering their date in the city. How sweet Justin was.

  Hope banged her skull against the headrest. Cameron. How caring Cameron was. He never even kissed her until the end of the night, making the anticipation so sweet. So spicy. So hot.

  The kiss was different from the others. That should have been a sure-tell sign. And when she slept with him—Justin—there wasn’t a lot of kissing. Not a lot of foreplay. At the time she’d wanted him so bad she didn’t care. She figured he was as hot and ready for her as well, and that the next time they’d take it slow.

  Only there never was a next time. She’d called him the following weekend, and he blew her off with an excuse about studying. Then it was his internship had kept him too preoccupied.

  There were lonely nights when she doubted everything that had taken place between them on Valentine’s Day. And then she’d wrapped herself in the memories, in the laughter, and hung on to them like a lifeline.

  When she’d missed her period, she knew. Regular since the day she started in seventh-grade science class, she just new. Justin had ignored her calls, so she left the news on his voicemail.

  And then she’d heard through campus gossip about a fatal accident nearby. The media plastered the scandalous news of the honorable Judge Thomas Smithfield’s golden boy’s death all over the news.

  The black sheep of the family, Cameron Smithfield, drug addict and responsible for the death of the beloved twin. Hope couldn’t escape the frenzy of media coverage and had packed her bags, and fled college life, Justin, and any hopes of being a pediatric nurse.

  Now, almost thirteen years later, she sat in her driveway, the high beams of the same car that drove her to Quinnipiac and back, shining on the front of her house. With a heavy sigh and a heavier heart, she hefted her tired body out of the car and let herself into the cold, dark, and empty house.

  It would be bustling with pre-teen girls next weekend. In the meantime, she’d enjoy the quiet. Without bothering to turn on any lights, she trudged up the stairs and flicked on the bathroom light.

  The light brown tile she and Ty picked out reminded her of Cameron in the tiny bathroom two weeks ago. Hunched over the toilet with his wrench and tool belt, she’d tried to not stare at the denim that stretched over his butt. Or the way his muscles rippled under his shirt when he ripped out the stained linoleum flooring.

  Or the way his shirt hiked up when he fiddled with the overhead wiring, revealing a glimpse of what promised to be stunning abs and hip bones that were meant to take a bite out of.

  “Dear Lord.” Hope slapped her hand over her face in an attempt to block out the visuals. She didn’t need Cameron’s temptation in her life. Heck, she didn’t need Cameron. He’d lied to her, made a fool of her by pretending to be Justin all those years ago.

  Hope pulled back the shower curtain out of the tub, flicked up the drain, and turned on the water. While it warmed, she kicked off her sneakers and reached down to pick them up, carrying them to her massive walk-in closet.

  His and hers. But there was no his to fill the right side, so she’d turned it into a mini office. It fit the desk she bought from Target and a folding chair quite well, while the other closet was plenty big for every piece of clothing, coat, and shoe she owned.

  Which wasn’t much. Stripping down to her skin, she tossed her work clothes in the laundry basket and padded to the bathroom. She and Delaney loved bubble baths, but Hope felt guilty about monopolizing her parents’ only bathroom, so she let Delaney be the soaker.

  Now, however, with her own home and the bathroom to herself, she could take as long as she damn pleased.

  And she damn well deserved a helluva long soak. Adding a capful of sweet pea bubbles under the hot stream, she waited and watched as foamy mounds filled the tub. When it was full, she slid in beneath the layer of bubbles and allowed her body to relax.

  The tension slowly released from her body, and she let her mind drift in and out of consciousness.

  She sliced her hands through the foamy froth when the water cooled, and her mind hadn’t allowed her to rest. No matter how hard she tried to keep Cameron out of her head, he kept creeping back. Knowing if she was awake she’d be thinking about him, hating him, longing for him and everything in between, Hope stood, the water and bubbles sleuthing off her body, and reached for the lavender towel on the hook on the back of the door.

  Once she was dry, she slipped into her robe and padded back to her room.

  She checked her phone one more time, smiling when Delaney’s name popped up.

  Going to bed. McKenna & I have dance tomorrow @ 10. Mrs. Franklin said she’d bring me home. See u later, alligator. Love u xo.

  Hope sent her a few of their favorite emojis and set her phone on the bedside table. Her master suite wasn’t anything to brag about. A full-sized bed—not even a queen—with the same pale blue floral bedspread she had when she was in college, a dresser and matching end table that her parents got for her tenth birthday.

  She wanted to give the set to Delaney, but her daughter said it was too childish and old-fashioned and she’d rather have the cool new stuff from Target.

  Never had thirty-one felt so old. She curled into a ball and pulled the covers up around her neck, stuffing a pillow between her knees.

  All her life she’d been sleeping alone, so it wasn’t like she was suddenly missing the feel of a man’s arms around her, a warm body behind her, spooning her with love.

  Still, she fell asleep feeling more lonely than ever before.

  “YOU DIDN’T REALLY THINK you could call out on a Sunday and not have my fiery ass over here to see what the hell was wrong with you?” Mia practically shouted as she stormed through Hope’s front door.

  “Fiery ass? How do you always have a date with that mouth of yours?” Hope closed the door behind her mouthy friend and followed her loud mouth to the kitchen.

  “Sorry. Is Delaney home?”

  “She’s in the shower. Which will then turn into a bath. I hope the well doesn’t go dry.”

  “You got lucky with that one. She’s a good kid.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  Mia helped herself to a glass from the cabinet and filled it up with water. “Want one?” she asked Hope as if she owned the kitchen instead of being a visitor in it.

  Not like Hope would treat any of her friends like visitors. They were family. And Mia had b
ailed her out of work today. Thankfully it was a slow day; Jill and Margaret were on to wait tables as well.

  “I’m all set. Thanks. So everything ran smoothly tonight?”

  “Yes. And I’m not here to talk about work.”

  This was what Hope feared. With fewer distractions from the tourists, the gossip mill was rampant during colder months. Someone must have seen Cameron’s truck parked in front of the restaurant well after closing. Or Marty said something. She’d fire his ass if he weren’t so important to her.

  “Lay it on me then.”

  Mia leaned to the side and peeked around the corner, most likely to make sure Delaney wasn’t downstairs. “Did you and Cameron do the nasty on the bar?”

  “Mia!” Heat burned in her cheeks.

  “You did.” Mia pointed at Hope and jumped up and down. “I’m so jealous. That man is hot.”

  “No.”

  “Oh hell, he is. If I thought I’d have a chance, I’d have jumped his bones weeks ago.”

  “No, I didn’t jump his bones.”

  “Oh, what are you old ladies calling it these days? Making love?” Mia hopped up on the counter and swung her legs.

  “We didn’t have sex. Or even make out.” Not that she didn’t want to. Before the bomb he dropped in her lap.

  “That sucks.” Mia’s feet stopped swinging and she hopped down, inching closer to Hope. “Oh, honey. What happened?” She reached for Hope’s hand and pulled her to the table, gently forcing her into a chair.

  “Nothing.”

  “That’s why you’re sad?” Mia took a seat next to her. “Because nothing happened?”

  It would be easier to let Mia think that, but she was her best friend and she deserved to know. The whole nasty truth.

  And so that’s what Hope told her. Every. Little. Detail.

  “Well. Ho...ly...shit.” Mia slumped in her chair when Hope was done with the story.

  “I know.”

  “You fell in love with Cameron in New York. Not Justin.”

  “I know.”

  “And now Cameron is in Maine.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But you don’t seem happy about it.”

  “He lied to me.”

  Mia rested her elbows on the table and hunched forward. “He did. Doing a twin swap is kind of a turn on, but not in this case. Had you known it was Cameron that you’d fallen in love with, you never would’ve slept with Justin. Right?”

  “That’s for sure.”

  “I never would’ve thought you’d go for the bad boy.”

  “He wasn’t. At least not on that day. Not when we were together. I know it’s because he was pretending to be Justin, but he didn’t seem fake to me. I thought it was real. Only, it had been an act. Cameron didn’t feel the same way about me as I felt about him. And obviously Justin hadn’t felt anything for me either. It was all an act. I was just another conquest to get into bed. And I fell so easily.”

  “Was that a game those two played? Justin was too much of a prissy pansy that he couldn’t get a girl on his own, so bad boy Cameron had to come in for the foreplay?”

  Hope scrunched her nose and scowled. “Gross.”

  “Sorry. Just laying it all out. Tell me more about the accident. What did Cameron say about that?”

  “Actually, he hasn’t. The few times I’m with him he’s elusive. But I feel there’s more to the story than he’s letting on.”

  “Where did you get your facts? The media?”

  “Yeah. Where else?”

  “The media that favors a prominent judge’s opinion.”

  “I guess.”

  “And have Cameron and his family reconciled?”

  “It doesn’t seem like it. At least, he’s never mentioned them. They’ve never come up in conversation. Granted we haven’t talked much.”

  “Too busy in the lip-lock?”

  “Not even once. Well, except for New York when I thought he was Justin.”

  “That’s too bad.” Mia sat back again, crossing her legs. “You said you weren’t sure if you liked Justin anymore but were willing to go out on Valentine’s Day. What changed your mind?”

  Hope traced the seam in the kitchen table with her fingernail. “When he called confirming the date, his voice was different. He sounded excited and a bit nervous. Maybe a bit devilish. Not the cocksure manner he usually had.”

  “Sounds like maybe Justin-boy was the bad ass.”

  “He was the favored one.”

  “So now what?” Mia questioned, her sharp eyes on Hope.

  “Now nothing. Life goes on. It doesn’t change anything.”

  “Oh hell, it does!” Mia stood up and tugged Hope to her feet. “You fell in love with him many years ago. When you slept with Justin, it was Cameron you were thinking about. Cameron was the one who made that little girl up there.” Mia pointed to the ceiling. “It’s Cameron’s memory you’ve been holding on to all these years, not asshole Justin who treated you like crap. I think you need to give him a chance.”

  Hope shook her head. “I can’t do that.” Her legs got twitchy, and she paced the kitchen. Needing to do something with her hands, she opened the dishwasher before the drying cycle was done, the steam covering her face, and picked up the silverware rack.

  “Of course you can.”

  The steaming hot spoon nearly burned her palm, and she dropped it in the drawer. Ignoring the burn, she continued putting the silverware away.

  “Hope.” Mia plucked the butter knife from her hand, dropping it on the counter, and took Hope by the shoulders. “Why can’t you see what could happen between you and Cameron now? Whatever happened is in the past. Talk to him. He must have a story to tell. Something like that, being in an accident, being responsible for your brother’s death, serving over a decade in prison, has to impact your life. Change you. And from what all of us in town have seen, whatever changes there are, are pretty good.”

  “Well then, why don’t you date him?” Hope shrugged away and reached for the glasses, opening the cabinet next to the window and started unloading the rack.

  “Because he’s interested in you. New York must have meant something to him too. He came to Crystal Cove for you.”

  “He came to see his niece.”

  “That he wouldn’t have discovered if he wasn’t looking for you.

  Hope stilled, almost dropping the glass. Could he really have felt the same things she had? Or was he here out of guilt?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE TEMPERATURE DROPPED drastically overnight, reminding him of a frigid, raw January in Connecticut. But it was only November. Cameron would have to acclimate himself to the colder winters in Maine. Especially with the biting wind off the ocean.

  Before his time in jail, when he worked on boats and yachts in the winter, they’d be in large, semi-heated warehouses. He remembered cursing the lack of heat in those steel buildings. Never again.

  Cameron blew warm air into his hand and reached for the wrench, tightening the bolts around the exhaust valve. Four years of rust and salt water and the damn washer thought it was a barnacle. Straining against time and the weather, he clenched his teeth and put his all into it.

  “Do you have a sec?” He hadn’t heard her board the boat, and the sound of Hope’s sweet voice startled the hell out of him.

  “Yeah. Sure.” He dropped the wrench on his knee and banged his head on the crawlspace hatch as he sat up. “Shit.” Cameron rubbed his head and scooted out of the tight space.

  There she stood in all her adorably sexy glory, bundled up in a navy bulky coat, a beige and blue scarf wrapped tightly around her neck, and a matching hat on her head. Hope’s cheeks were a rosy red and her dark eyes were serious, if not a little afraid. Of him, he hoped not.

  “Hi.” He hopped to his feet and patted his thighs, as if he could wipe the grease and grime off. He’d waited all Sunday to see if she’d call, only to remember she didn’t have his number. And he prayed all last night that she’d stop by his work
, thankful she didn’t know where his abysmal apartment was.

  He stood a few feet from her unsure what to do. Apologize? Reason with her? Ramble about the weather? Instead, he waited for her to speak first since she was the one who came to him.

  Not wanting to pressure her to talk if she wasn’t ready, Cameron yanked on his winter hat and pulled his gloves from his pocket, thankful to put them on again.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I’m a guy. I can always eat.”

  “The Sunrise Diner has a decent brunch. I was...planning on heading over.”

  Cameron told his heart to slow down before it gave his excitement away. “Sure,” he said with as much casualness as he could muster.

  “Unless you’re busy.”

  “My fingers were going numb. I’m going to have a bruise on my forehead if I drop my tools one more time.” He rubbed his head and grinned.

  Hope turned and climbed out of the boat, Cameron at her heels. Not too close, but close enough to appreciate the way her backside filled out a pair of jeans. She was too quick for him and out of the boat before he could offer a hand.

  They walked side-by-side in silence, the arctic breeze making it too cold to speak anyway. When they reached the diner, he held the door for her and followed her in.

  “Hi, Priscilla. We’ll just take a seat over here,” Hope said to the waitress as she made her way to a table by the window. It wasn’t private, but away from the front end and the eager ears of the two old men sitting at the front counter.

  “Got the place practically to yourselves. Monday ain’t too crowded. You know that.” Priscilla turned over the mugs at the table and filled them both up. “Give me a holler when you’re ready to order.”

  She laughed and mumbled something under her breath about colors as she walked away.

  “You’ll have to forgive Priscilla. She’s as sweet as they come, but a bit of a meddler.”

  Yet she brought him to the diner anyway. Either Hope didn’t care about town gossip or she was about to make a grand statement and was counting on Priscilla to spread the news.

  “I’ve been in a time or two. She seems quite nice.”