Where There's Hope_A Well Paired Novel Page 14

  “Has she read your aura yet?”

  He nodded. “And my palm. Apparently, I’m very good with my hands.” He realized the innuendo too late. “You know, tools and stuff.” Cameron clucked his tongue and snagged the plastic menus from behind the napkin dispenser, handing Hope one.

  The diner was retro without even trying. Checkered linoleum tiles, black metal chairs and chipped, red veneer tables that were once fashionable and hadn’t been replaced since the sixties made the Sunrise diner quaint and nostalgic. All that was missing was a jukebox.

  Cameron hadn’t spent much time in here, picking up the occasional burger or sandwich to go instead of dining alone. Sitting across from Hope was a welcome change. They still hadn’t said much and were tip-toeing around each other. He couldn’t get a good read on her, whether she was hurt or angry or over it.

  Not likely she’d be over such a bombshell. He hadn’t read the signs wrong all those years ago. What had happened between them in New York was so much more than what she and Justin had going on.

  Neither of them had long-term relationships. The difference was Cameron went after the one-night stand kind of girl while Justin preyed on the young and innocent, debauching them and sending them on their way.

  That’s usually where Cameron came in so Justin wouldn’t have to clean up his own mess. Only this time, Cameron fell for the girl Justin so easily cast aside, claiming she was boring and wanted too much.

  Never would he have agreed to take one of Justin’s castoffs out on Valentine’s Day if he hadn’t gotten into a fight with his dad the night before.

  It was the usual, “You’re a disgrace to the family. Why don’t you do something better with your life, you little asshole?” His father was up for a prominent award, one Cameron could give a rat’s ass about, and he’d nearly blown it for Thomas Smithfield when he told a newspaper reporter that his dad was an arrogant prick and a shit for a father.

  Thomas made it clear as the freaking diamond on Janice’s third finger what Cameron could do with his life and where he wasn’t welcome.

  Going out with Justin’s innocent castoff was supposed to be retribution.

  Funny how things worked out.

  Cameron focused his eyes on the menu in his hands, wanting to put his past far, far behind him. Noticing the grime, he excused himself to the restroom and washed up.

  “The eggs benedict is good,” Hope said over her menu when he returned to his seat opposite her.

  “I haven’t had hash in ages. Is that good too?”

  “The best.”

  Priscilla came over and took their orders with a chuckle and shake of her head as if she was in on some big joke. Hope scowled at her and swooshed her away with her hands.

  “She means well but is incredibly annoying.”

  “I heard that,” Priscilla called over her shoulder.

  “I like how the business owners get along so well in this town. You don’t seem competitive with each other.”

  “We each have something different to offer.”

  “You like it here.”

  “I do.” Hope poured some milk into her coffee and picked up her spoon to swirl it in.

  “Why Quinnipiac? It’s so far.”

  Hope stopped stirring and gently placed the spoon on her napkin, a dark circle of coffee saturating the paper.

  “They have a decent nursing program. And they offered me a good deal.”

  “You didn’t finish your degree after you had Delaney?”

  “I needed to work to support us.”

  This wasn’t what he meant to do, take them down this road. But if they were going to move forward—and he really wanted to move ahead with their relationship—they couldn’t dance around topics.

  She told him about her job as a hostess, then waitress, and eventually assistant manager. When the restaurant was for sale, she took out a loan and invested her life’s savings into buying the place.

  “You seem really happy here.” Cameron wrapped his hands around his coffee cup and brought it to his lips. “Small town living looks good on you.”

  Priscilla came with their meals—two egg benedicts and a side of hash—and refilled their coffees.

  “You two take your time. Enjoy your breakfast. And each other.” She sauntered off with a hum in her voice.

  They cut into their food and ate with appreciation. “You’re right,” he said after sampling it all. “This is amazing hash. And hollandaise. I hated that fancy crap they’d serve at the country clubs. This tastes like butter and lemon. Fatty and good.”

  Hope picked up her napkin and dabbed the corner of her lips.

  “I suppose you’re wondering why I asked you to breakfast.”

  “Couldn’t get enough of me is the way I figured it,” he teased.

  Clearing her throat, she set the napkin into her lap and rolled her shoulders back. “Tell me about the accident. The truth,” she said, her mouth flat and stern.

  Cameron’s fork stopped midway to his mouth. He paused and watched Hope as she fidgeted in her seat, her hazel eyes looking every which way except at him. Giving her time to settle down, he brought the fork to his lips and chewed on the last bite he’d get of his breakfast, no longer tasting the salty ham or tangy hollandaise.

  After he swallowed his food, he sipped his coffee then set his cup down. Hope still squirmed, and he did his best to remain still. No sugarcoating. No more protecting.

  If she wanted the truth, she’d get it.

  “Justin and I were at a party.” That was the truth. He would, however, leave out the part about Justin spending most of his time in one of the bedrooms with two willing college girls. “Things started to get out of control, so I told him we needed to leave.”

  Hope pushed her plate aside and leaned on the table. “What sort of things?”

  Cameron ran his hand across his head, realizing he still had his winter hat on and removed it. He rubbed the stubble that grew, reminding him of his early days in high school, when he shaved his head to piss off his dad. And his first year in prison when he requested to have his head buzzed every week. Just because.

  He didn’t miss the focus of her gaze as she took in the five o’clock shadow on his noggin. Not wanting it as a distraction, he put his hat back on, even though he was starting to sweat.

  “Drugs. Lots of them being passed around.” Justin doing the passing and the taking.

  “Your brother told me you were heavy into drugs. And alcohol.”

  Cameron snorted. “Yeah. I started when I was thirteen but by twenty-two, the novelty had worn off. I enjoyed having my fair share of beer.” One trip to the hospital to have your stomach pumped the day after your twenty-first pretty much cured him of the bottle. So he’d stuck to the drugs.

  “Were you tempted? At the party?”

  Not by the girls and not by the needles. All he’d wanted was to go back to Hope’s dorm and whisk her away. But he was on babysitting duty.

  A near knife fight in the kitchen between two dealers and he’d had enough. When one of the girls came downstairs, stoned out of her mind, he took the stairs two at a time and stormed into the bedroom, telling his brother to zip up and get out.

  Again, Cameron preferred to leave some details out.

  “The crowd had turned into what I used to be. The type of people I knew too well, and I didn’t want Justin or myself to get caught up in it.”

  “You were driving Justin’s car.”

  Because he had been too stoned to put one foot in front of the other, much less drive a $95,000 vehicle.

  “I was.”

  “Was he drunk?”

  Cameron tucked his lips in, not wanting to disrespect his dead brother by ratting him out.

  “I see.” Hope’s eyes narrowed. “He was high.”

  “Let’s just say I was in better condition to drive.” He’d had three beers all night, just waiting to get away from the party scene.

  “But the toxicology reports came back saying you had cocaine i
n your bloodstream.”

  And wasn’t that the crux of it all. How easy it was for a prominent judge to ask a few favors and have lab work switched. Cameron rubbed his palm across his face in frustration and desperation. He didn’t know the right thing to do. It wouldn’t do any good to say his story now. But he’d kept it buried inside him for so long.

  “Can we talk about this somewhere else?” Cameron asked in a hushed voice. Loyalty was his strength and apparently his weakness. No matter what wrongs had been done, Cameron had vowed to stay loyal to his brother. Justin was an arrogant, womanizer asshole, but he was Cameron’s identical twin. And was dead because of his carelessness. There were unspoken rules. And yet...

  He reached into his back pocket for his wallet and placed enough bills on the table to cover their meals and a hefty tip. Hope slipped into her jacket and stood, zipping it on her way to the door. She seemed just as much in a hurry as he was. They tugged on their gloves by the door.

  “Bye, you two. I saw some pretty aura colors swirling ‘round your heads while you were eating,” Priscilla called after them.

  Cameron paused at the door and turned around. “The food was delicious, thank you.”

  “And such fine manners. You two will work out your differences and be following in Alexis and Ben’s footsteps before we know it.”

  Not knowing what she meant by that, Cameron trotted down the sidewalk after Hope who’d gotten a decent head start.

  “In a hurry?”

  “Sorry. I didn’t want to encourage Priscilla.”

  They walked toward the center of town and the wind had picked up, slapping them in the faces with her cold, fierce hand.

  He didn’t know where they were going until they ended up at Hope’s car parked in the loading zone at the wharf. Disappointment ate at his gut when she unlocked her door. He wanted to continue their morning together. His work could wait.

  “Get in,” she said over the roof of her car before sliding into the front seat and turning on the ignition.

  Not making her say it twice, he opened the passenger door and climbed in. His legs bumped against the dashboard and he felt around under him for the controls, sliding his seat back.

  “Continue.” Hope placed her hands on the wheel but kept the car in park. Apparently, this was going to be their private place to talk. “You had cocaine in your bloodstream, yet you said you didn’t do the hard stuff anymore.”

  “Yeah.” He whooshed out a breath of air and looked up at the ceiling of the car.

  Cameron never had a best friend to confide in other than Justin. They were as opposite as could be, but they had each other’s backs. It felt wrong to discredit him. Even now.

  “I used to tease Justin about being Daddy’s princess. I gave him his first beer on our eighteenth birthday. I’d ask him to come party with me, but he usually made some lame excuse like he had to study. Or play golf with Dad and his people. I jested. A lot. For his college graduation gift, I gave him an ounce of crack.”

  Hope gasped, her hands leaving the wheel and clutching at her chest. It wasn’t like she didn’t already think low of him.

  “It wasn’t until I saw my brother strung out that I realized what I must have looked like. How I acted. It was like looking into a mirror. And it wasn’t pretty. Slowly Justin’s mood became sour. He started treating people like shit. We’d swapped dates in the past but never...he turned ugly. That’s when I quit using, and he became more dependent. Not every day, I don’t think. But enough to alter his moods. It’s my fault he was like that.”

  The heat in the small space crept down his neck. Cameron turned down the temperature in the car and pulled his hat off, crumpling it in his fists. His father had been right all along; everything was his fault. If he hadn’t crossed to the other side at such a young age, if he hadn’t been such a puke determined to rebel against everything his parents said, if he hadn’t pressured his brother...

  He leaned his head against the cool glass, lost in the memories. The pain.

  “I’d barely gotten Justin to the car and had driven a few miles down the road when it started to snow. Not a lot, just enough to make the roads slick.” The rear-wheel-drive sports car was terrible in snow and especially on windy back roads. “Justin was cursing a red streak because I’d taken him away from...the party.”

  He’d called Cameron a slew of names, many of which his father had called him on a regular basis. So often that Cameron had begun to believe them himself, until he’d spent the day with Hope. She had made him feel like a real man. She’d looked at him with kindness and respect. Her genuine laugh had grabbed at his heart and made him wish he were a different man.

  For two weeks he thought he was a different man. A new leaf and all that crap.

  When Justin had pulled out a baggie of the white stuff, Cameron snatched it away from him right as the car hit a patch of black ice. The car had spun around in a three-sixty and the opened bag of cocaine flew out of his hands, coating his face, his front, and the steering wheel with the drug.

  The Camaro crashed into a telephone pole, flipping the car and tossing Justin through the window, killing him on impact. Cameron’s seatbelt kept him locked in place, covered in cocaine. Only the newspapers reported something else.

  “Your brother was high. Why didn’t the newspapers mention that?”

  Cameron didn’t realize he told the story out loud. He picked his head off the cool glass and closed his eyes. It was all so humiliating.

  “They covered it up, didn’t they? Your father? He pinned the entire thing on you when Justin was just as at fault.” Hope’s eyes grew large, and she covered her mouth with her gloved hand. “He wasn’t just as at fault, Cameron.” She laid a hand on his arm, and he wanted to melt into her touch. “You went to jail for him. The accident...you hit black ice. That wasn’t your fault. Justin wasn’t wearing a seatbelt and had been the one with the cocaine. You were clean.”

  The fact that she believed him without a doubt caused tears to form in his eyes. He looked away and squeezed his eyes shut. No one had ever believed in him before. He’d never given anyone reason to.

  “Cameron?”

  He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t open his mouth to talk or a river of nonsense and possibly choked crying would come vomiting out his mouth. He curled his lips inward and tucked his chin to his chest.

  “Cameron,” she said again and moved closer, the friction of her coat loud in the small, enclosed car.

  The touch was almost too much. He heard rustling and then felt her warm hands on his cheeks. “Look at me.” She turned his face toward her, and he opened his eyes. Hope greeted him with a sad smile. “You went to prison to protect your brother’s integrity.”

  No. It hadn’t been that way. He went to prison because he was a washed up idiot with no future. Because he’d been caught with drugs before and had two priors. Because he killed his brother, the only hope for his dysfunctional family.

  Hope climbed up on her knees and leaned over to his side of the car, her breath whispering kisses across his lips. “You’re a brave, loyal man, Cameron Smithfield.”

  She wiped the tear that escaped, and then closed her eyes as she lowered her lips to his.

  They tasted just like he remembered. Soft and pure. Innocent and fun. Good and kind. Cameron brought his arms around her body, hugging her close as he explored her lips with his tongue. He sipped at her mouth, sampling and savoring, the flood of emotions warming him with a feeling he’d never experienced before.

  The tightness in his chest wasn’t from fear or anxiety, but the expanding of his heart as it filled with love.

  It was similar to their last kiss, nearly thirteen years ago, but this time it was different. There was so much more passion, more tension, more feelings. More promises.

  And this time there’d be a future in it.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THE BRIGHT REFLECTION of the sun pinged off the corrugated metal roof of the warehouse and shone on her face, reminding Hope
they were in a parked car, in the open, in the middle of the day.

  Pressing her lips against his one last time, she moaned and pulled away. Somehow she’d half-climbed over the center console, her left knee centimeters away from moving the gear into reverse. Untangling her hands from behind Cameron’s neck, she slid back into her seat. His hand remained at her neck and he played with hair while she righted herself.

  It wasn’t the awkward morning after—or rather, moment after—for her, but she didn’t know how Cameron would feel about showing his tears to her. She was so moved by his discreet display of emotion, by his honesty, by his integrity.

  For some reason, she believed him without giving it a second thought. It all made sense. The confusion with her feelings toward Justin all made sense now, and she owed Cameron an apology. No, he wasn’t perfect and he had made his share of mistakes, but he’d more than paid for them.

  Tilting her head, she peeked up at him under her lashes and internally sighed. It wasn’t only his outward beauty she saw, but the inner as well. His eyes had darkened to a deep burnt chocolate, his cheeks rosy under the layer of stubble, his lips more full and wet from their kisses. The sheepish grin that she fell in love with years and years ago tugged at his lip.

  She’d been wrong to accuse him of being a murderer. Her hateful words came springing back to her.

  “I’m sorry, Cameron.”

  His lips flatlined and his shoulders stiffened. “No need. We were caught up in the moment.” He moved his hand from her neck and shifted in his seat, straightening his hat. He gripped the door handle and Hope reached out, holding on to his jacket.

  “Don’t go. Not yet.”

  Cameron stilled but wouldn’t make eye contact. Now that the kiss was over, she didn’t want to lose the passion that had been so strong between them.

  “I need to apologize for the way I treated you. For accusing you of—”

  “Hope.” He spun his head around and looked intently into her eyes. “You don’t owe me an apology for anything. I was the one who was at fault. For everything.”

  “No.” She touched his face again and waited until he leaned into her palm. “I said some hurtful words to you. I believed what I’d heard without giving you a chance to explain yourself. I’m so sorry.”