Where There's Hope_A Well Paired Novel Read online

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE FIRST THING SHE was going to do tomorrow morning was disown the Parkers from her life. Of course the one time she needed Ty’s professional help, he’d be tromping around the woods up north. And Celeste. And Connie. Bless their hearts, but Hope could strangle them right about now.

  It wouldn’t surprise her if her mother had figured it out by now and come rushing to the house to save her from the predicament. While she’d told her mother about Cameron, she’d never mentioned him by name. Saying his name would make him real. Make him someone.

  Hope flicked on her blinker, even though there wasn’t a car in sight, and yanked the wheel to the left, turning onto her road. She’d been tempted to blurt out his identity right there in the middle of the function hall. To call him out and make him face the town’s wrath. But then Delaney bounced her way to them, all smiles and laughter, and her heart twisted.

  So she bit her tongue. Her mother hadn’t put two-and-two together or she would have intervened. The only time Hope had mentioned his name was after she’d given birth to Delaney and sobbed in her mother’s arms. She’d been too much of an emotional wreck to speak clearly, his name coming out in a curse.

  Up until that point, she hadn’t told her parents about Justin or how he’d died. Holding her baby to her chest, knowing she and her parents would be the only family Delaney ever had, she explained it all. And then she never spoke of either one of the Smithfield brothers again.

  Over the years, her mother had dropped subtle hints about Delaney’s paternal grandparents, but Hope had always been adamant about keeping her daughter away from them. She’d ignored the disapproving looks, and thankfully her mother respected her choice.

  Cameron’s name may have rung a bell. Or it could have been his eyes. The ones that mirrored Delaney’s. Sooner or later, her mother would learn about Cameron.

  Hope parked in her driveway and jumped out of the car, her belly quivering with uncertainty. All day he’d been nothing but polite and charming to strangers that had come up to them. He’d kept his distance from her, even though he sat only a few feet away from her at the visitors’ table. He didn’t try to make idle chatter with her, which she appreciated.

  She’d heard him tell a group of twenty-somethings who’d stopped by their visitors’ table that he wasn’t going to the dance. They’d seemed disappointed at the news and when he didn’t return their flirting, had moved on.

  When she’d walked into the dance hall, her focus had been on her daughter and then on the search for her mother. She’d noticed Celeste and Connie, who were more like aunts to her than family friends, and hadn’t paid much attention to the man standing with them.

  His back had been to her, and the thought never even crossed her mind that it could have been Cameron. And yet there he was.

  And now here she was, standing on her doorstep in the cold night waiting for him to look at the faulty wiring in her home. Bright lights shone down the road, and a tingle rippled through her body.

  He parked his truck behind her car, trapping her in, and opened his door. With no outside lights and only a tiny sliver of the moon in the sky, she could barely make out his figure. As his easy gait made its way to the front walkway and to the bottom of the steps, her stomach flipped again.

  It wasn’t fear, though. It was something else. Something she couldn’t identify. Something she feared to identify.

  Cameron let out a slow sigh. “I’m sorry about this. It wasn’t my intent.” He shoved his hands in his coat pockets and kept his gaze low, toward her feet.

  He had the posture of a defeated man. Of one who couldn’t catch a break. And he wore the features of a nice guy. If she didn’t know the real Cameron, the bad boy brother who snorted cocaine and had forced some on his brother when he’d crashed his car, killing his innocent brother...

  “If you’re not comfortable with me coming inside, I understand. I can report back that I couldn’t fix the issue. I’ll call around in the morning for an electrician.”

  Hope had been living in Crystal Cove her entire life, with the exception of the seven months she was away at college. If anyone knew an electrician, it would be her, not the newcomer. The gesture was kind, though. And she was too slow to stop the words coming out of her mouth.

  “You can come in and look around.” Hope spun on her toes and unlocked the front door. Out of instinct, she reached for the light switch, remembering after she’d flipped it that she’d turned off the power.

  Cameron flicked on a flashlight behind her and she stepped aside, allowing him to come in. “I’ll show you the basement.” Where all killers brought their victims.

  She shook the thought from her head. While he may have been responsible for his brother’s death, Cameron wasn’t a killer. She recalled how many times she’d called him a murderer either to his face or in her thoughts. Maybe that word was a bit harsh.

  Maybe. Time would tell. If she made it out of the basement alive.

  Too many cheesy scary movies were on television this month. They were Delaney’s favorite. Had Hope feared for her life, she’d never have sat next to Cameron all morning and never would have allowed him to stay in her town.

  Not that she had the power to kick anyone out of town, but she’d have called him out at the dance. Heck, she’d have called him out long before.

  “Watch your step,” he cautioned, flashing the light behind him as she followed him down the stairs. “Which way to the circuit breaker?”

  “To the left. By the slider.” The home was situated on just enough of a slope for a daylight basement in the back. A sliding door opened to the backyard, or rather, back field.

  The dark windows had spooked her in an Edgar Allan Poe-esque way when she came down earlier, using the flashlight on her phone to guide her. Now, though, with Cameron in front guiding the way, she felt strangely comforted. From what, she didn’t know.

  “You said it was the kitchen lights that flickered first?”

  “I’m pretty sure. I had my head in the oven at the time.” Cameron stopped, and she bumped into his back. He spun around, their bodies much too close for comfort.

  Hope took a step back.

  “Why was your head in the oven?”

  She studied the way the light reflected off the windows and sparkled in his eyes. Eyes that were downcast in concern.

  A sly grin escaped her lips. “I was cleaning it. The three blind mice and all their friends have been having a field day around here. Even in the oven.” Cameron’s lip curled, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Gross. I know.”

  “I don’t like mice.” He flicked the flashlight around the basement and stepped closer to Hope.

  She pushed him away, laughing. “You’re a thousand times bigger and stronger than a little mouse. Don’t be a scaredy cat,” she snickered. “Go check the wiring.”

  “If I get rabies, it’s all your fault.”

  “Now you sound like a big baby.”

  She nudged him along and he quickly switched positions, using her body as a shield as they made their way across the basement. His hands were on her shoulders, guiding her along and the warmth of his body behind her and the subtle smell of clean soap and strong man got her all flustered and confused.

  When they reached the box, she stepped aside so he could inspect it.

  “Can you hold this for me?” Cameron handed her the flashlight, and their fingers brushed in the exchange.

  The veins in her chest pulsated, her head grew weak with confusion as she dropped her hand quickly from his. It was nerves, or how much he looked like Justin that had her so jumpy. Yet, that didn’t explain the flutter in her belly.

  “Uh. Up here? Can you shine the flashlight on the circuit board?”

  Hope glanced at the floor where the beam of light lit up their feet. “Oh. Sorry.” She did as he asked and watched his hands glide across the switches, flicking one at a time. The basement light came on, and they shielded their eyes.

  Cameron clicked h
is tongue. “There’s definitely a short in a wire, but the breaker seems in tact. Did the lights on the second floor go out as well?”

  “I don’t know. I was in the kitchen and didn’t have them on. When the oven light went out as well as the kitchen lights, I ran down here and shut everything off.”

  “That was smart. Good thinking. I need to see which lights don’t work. Will you be okay going upstairs and hollering down to me when the lights go on?”

  “Will I be okay?” Hope smirked. “Will you be okay down here with all the mice is the question.”

  He sucked in one cheek and gave her a fleeting look. “You’re not funny.”

  “Scaredy cat,” she teased as she practically skipped across the basement and up the stairs.

  “Watch out for the boogeyman!” he hollered after her.

  Hope bit her lip to control her laughter. For the next few minutes the lights came on, and she yelled down to him that they worked. The only set that didn’t was the kitchen.

  When Cameron was done she heard him run up the wooden stairs, closing the basement door firmly behind him. His chest heaved, and he breathed heavily as he leaned against the closed door. Hope watched him from the dark kitchen, fascinated by his lines.

  He wasn’t thin, wasn’t bulky. More like...just right. Shoulders that were wide and solid, arms that promised to be strong, and a chest that still heaved and tapered to a slim waist. The features on his clean-shaven face were kind. She hadn’t really noticed before. The scruff she’d seen on him earlier gone, his cheeks promising to be soft to the touch.

  Not that she had any plans to touch him. Ever.

  “I’m getting you mouse traps first thing in the morning.” Cameron joined her in the kitchen, flicking the flashlight on again.

  “You’re not killing innocent little mice.”

  “You really want mice turds all over your house? They’re probably what got to your wires. I’m afraid to find out what’s behind these walls.”

  “I’ll buy some catch and release traps.”

  “They’ll find their way back.”

  “I’ll get a cat.”

  Cameron shifted and crossed his arms. “Isn’t that the same as killing them?”

  He had a point. “I’ll figure something out.” Truth of the matter was, she really didn’t want those nasty little things scurrying around her house. But it was too much fun watching Cameron squirm. “About my kitchen lights...”

  “Yeah.” He shone the flashlight on the ceiling, tracing the path of the recessed lights. “What’s above?”

  “The bathroom.”

  “The water spot looks new. Not quite stained yet.” He searched the kitchen and dinette area with his light. “Have a chair I can climb on?”

  “I have a stepstool in the living room.”

  Cameron went to retrieve it from the other room and set it in front of the sink. He climbed up and handed her the light again. “Can you shine this for me?”

  “Sure.” She followed along keeping the beam on his hands.

  He unscrewed the rim, the bulb, and pulled a few wires through the hole. “Yup. It’s what I thought.”

  “What?”

  He climbed down the stool and set the pieces on the counter. “Does the upstairs toilet run? Or has the tub overflown?”

  “I haven’t used the tub, but yeah, the toilet runs. It actually overflowed the first time I used it. Not because I...it just...didn’t work right.” She blushed. “I haven’t used it since.”

  “Let’s go take a look.”

  She led the way upstairs and stepped aside so he could go into the bathroom. Since the lights worked, she flicked on the switch for him. There was a puddle all around the toilet, and the pale blue linoleum had started to curl around the edges.

  “Crap.”

  Cameron looked over his shoulder at her, laughter in his eyes. “Pun intended?”

  Realization set in, and she felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment. “No!”

  “I’m teasing.” Cameron took a wrench from his pocket and did something behind the toilet and then unscrewed the bottom bolts. “My gut instinct is telling me the water from the overflow dripped down into the wires, causing the shortage.” He wiggled the toilet loose. “How attached are you to this floor?”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s going to need to be torn up. I think we caught the leak in time so we won’t have to repair the entire ceiling in your kitchen. Just the wiring. I need to fix the leak up here, though, or it’s going to happen again.”

  Hope entered the bathroom and squatted next to him. “This is just a rental. I haven’t officially moved in yet. It’s been vacant for a couple years.”

  “That explains the empty rooms. I was wondering where you ate.”

  “Yeah. My shopping list is a mile long. Delaney and I have our bedroom furniture, but we don’t have anything for the kitchen, living room, or bathrooms yet.”

  “Congratulations then on your new place.”

  She studied him to see if he was being genuine or sarcastic.

  Crap. Genuine it was. Hope looked away so she wouldn’t fall under the spell of those chocolate eyes.

  “It’s not really mine. I’ll call the owners in the morning to see what they want to do in here. I can’t afford to replace the flooring and fixtures. If this place is a money pit, I’m backing out.”

  Cameron stood and set the wrench on the counter. “It’s not a money pit. You have yourself a real nice home, Hope.”

  Again, she searched for the sarcasm. He came from an obscene amount of wealth. Justin had told her all about their estate in Connecticut, the family home in Aruba, the villa in Vale, Colorado. The jet-setting and expensive gifts. It wasn’t what drew her in to Justin. Ironically, his wealth had been intimidating and what almost kept them apart.

  “You okay? You seemed to space out for a minute.”

  “Fine. Just fine.” Hope rose to her feet and backed away. “I appreciate your help. I guess there’s nothing to be done right now.”

  Ignoring her, Cameron lifted the lid off the back of the toilet and tinkered with it. “I shut the water off. Don’t use the bathroom until I come back and fix it.”

  “Come back?” She didn’t need his help. Ty would be back in four days and would fix whatever needed to be fixed.

  “I’ll be by in the morning with the right tools. From what I can tell, the water damage isn’t too bad, but it’ll be easier to tell with daylight.

  “You don’t need to come over tomorrow. Ty and Wade can take a look.”

  “Celeste said they’re away hunting. I’ll swing by tomorrow. What time will you be here?” It only took one stride with his long legs to reach the other side of the bathroom.

  Hope backed into the hall and they filed down the stairs, stopping in the small entryway.

  “I need to be at work by ten. I can be here by seven, though, if that’s not too early.”

  “Early? The day is half-over by seven.”

  “You really don’t have to do this, Cameron.”

  He stared down at her with those alluring eyes again, the silence between them disconcerting. She bit her lip and looked away, her eyes darting from the ceiling to the front door, back to him again.

  He reached behind him, grabbing the knob, and opened the front door. He stepped out and called over his shoulder, “Don’t forget to call your friends to tell them you’re still alive.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  FOR THE FIRST TIME in decades, Cameron’s tossing and turning wasn’t due to worry, fear, or too much drinking. He’d tossed and turned before thinking about Hope. Or rather, wishing and dreaming about seeing her, touching her, tasting her again.

  Two out of three wasn’t bad and it kept him up, but this time with a smile around his heart. The sun made its way over the horizon later and later every morning, even with the time change a few weeks ago. When the glimpse of morning light shone through his curtainless windows, he climbed out of his sleeping bag and took a co
ol shower.

  The hot water didn’t last long, and he’d given up some time ago on waiting for it to heat up. Once clean, he debated on whether to shave or not. Some women liked the clean look while others preferred the scruff. It had been years, not since he was a young twenty-year-old that he’d paid any attention to what a woman wanted.

  And when he was twenty, he only cared about what she wanted in bed. But last night he thought about the two sweet women who asked him to go to a family-friendly town dance. As corny and cliché` as it was, it was incredibly endearing and he found himself dressing for these women as if they were his mother.

  Only he’d never dressed for his mother before. Instead, he’d dress in a way that he knew would piss her off. And yet she’d never berated him for his ripped jeans and rock-and-roll t-shirts. He’d mastered the bedhead style before it was a thing. All because he knew his parents would be embarrassed. Mortified.

  They spent so much of their time telling Cameron how mortifying he was to the Smithfield family that he worked his ass off to keep up with his reputation. There were so many years spent trying to be what his parents didn’t want that he never took the time to figure out what he actually wanted.

  Ironically it took nearly a decade in prison for him to evaluate his life and set priorities. Make goals. To actually care about himself.

  And if he were honest with himself, he’d started thinking about his future the day he met Hope.

  The only goal he’d met so far was earning his degree in mechanical engineering. He aced the trade school tests he took in prison during his first year. Wiring and plumbing kept his mind occupied and he’d earned a good reputation in prison, working his way through rehabilitation programs.

  It only took six trips to the infirmary with broken bones and bruises, a knife to the back of the neck and fifty-four stitches, and eleven days in solitary for the other prisoners to forget that Judge Smithfield was Cameron’s father, and for the guards to judge him based on his behavior.

  He fought back when he had to, but for the most part, Cameron led a solitary life in prison, not caring to make friends or enemies with anyone. He’d stuck to his studies and the manners taught to him at a young age—that were severely neglected in his teen years—buzzed to the surface, garnering him as much respect as a prisoner could get.