Second String: Book 5 Last Play Romance Series Page 5

  “Oh, right, she filled in for Frankie today. She said there were some bad rapids?”

  “Yep.” Cam focused on the card but tried to build rapport with the guy. “She was very professional. She handled it well.”

  “Good to hear. She knows her stuff. Her grandpa used to own the place.”

  “Right.”

  The guy was overeager. “I think it was hard on Kat when her mom sold the place, but she seems to like it here.”

  “Uh-huh.” He wrote something about how she was amazing and should be given a raise. Cam glanced up at the guy. “What’s your name?”

  “Jet.”

  Cam nodded. “Jet, do you like working here?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Jet grinned. As Cam handed the paper to him, he asked, “Do you want to book again?”

  This pulled Cam up short.

  “If you want to book with Kat, it looks like she’s on the schedule for Saturday morning.”

  She hadn’t mentioned this either. “Yeah. Let me book with her for Saturday.”

  Jet eagerly booked him and took his money.

  Cam hesitated. “Jet, would you happen to know Kat’s address or phone number?”

  Jet frowned. “We’re not allowed to give out personal information.”

  Cam hated himself, but he said what he knew would get him the information. “I just want to thank her.”

  Jet’s eyes widened. “You can write a note.” He flashed a satisfied grin. “I’ll leave it for her.”

  Cam hesitated, feeling the desperation in the pit of his stomach. He needed the information now. Today. This minute.

  Jet waved a hand in the air in dismissal. “Look, did you know she’s engaged? I’ve been hitting on her for a couple of weeks, and believe me, she doesn’t budge.”

  Upon hearing this new information, Cam grinned, liking the fact Kat kept this guy at bay with the fake engagement story. “Really?”

  A couple entered the guide shop and immediately asked about the best canoe to buy. Jet nodded to him, distracted. “I gotta help these customers. Sorry, buddy, she’s off the market.”

  His heart beating fast, Cam waited until Jet was busy with the customers, then he rummaged around the desk until he saw an old Rolodex. He went to Foster, found Kat’s name and address, and committed it to memory.

  “Hey,” Jet called out.

  Cam turned back, put up one hand, and flipped the Rolodex behind him, so it wasn’t on her name.

  “You need to leave.” Jet’s jaw clenched.

  “Just going.” Cam walked out the door.

  Chapter 9

  Kat sat in the sunroom, happy that for the last hour she’d been able to go over her research and write a couple of coherent pages. At this point in her dissertation, she’d researched the heck out of her topic. Now she just had to get it all down, which was harder than most people thought.

  Kat thought about how strange Steven had sounded earlier, but she quickly dismissed it. He was good about helping his students—that was one of his strong points. He wasn’t a cheater. Then she got mad at herself for even thinking he could do something like that.

  She tugged off her black-rimmed glasses; she only really needed them for up-close work. Putting them aside, she stood, stretching. It wouldn’t do to keep thinking about the interaction earlier. Gathering up her computer and slipping on her flip-flops, she moved out of the sunroom and through the kitchen toward the sliding door.

  She was almost out when she heard the chime of the doorbell. Confused, she turned to the front door. Nobody should be coming to the house. Everybody knew that the Fairmonts were out of town at the moment, and all mail had been suspended.

  Unexpectedly, she saw the bearded face of Cameron Cruz in the window, complete with sunglasses and ball cap … except the beard wasn’t shaggy anymore. He grinned slightly and gave a little wave. She stifled a myriad of emotions that pulsed through her. How had he found her? Why was he here? Why had he trimmed the beard?

  She unlocked the door and flung it open, taking in the jeans, white T-shirt, and Tevas from earlier. It would be a lie to say that Kat didn’t notice how the T-shirt stretched across his shoulders and biceps in all the right places. “Hello?”

  A smirk filled his face. He gestured to the entrance. “Nice place.”

  Stepping out, she kept the door halfway shut behind her. “I’m house-sitting here, and I’m not allowed to have company at the main house. What are you doing here, Cam?”

  “Oh.” He seemed genuinely concerned. He took a step back and looked around, focusing on the camera by the door. “I guess they really are watching?”

  “Yeah, they are.” She waited.

  “I came to see if you wanted to hang out sometime.”

  This took her completely off guard. “What?”

  “Ya know. Hang. It’s what friends do. Like I told you, I don’t know anybody here.”

  “I thought you treated women like toys and put them back when you’re done with them.” She didn’t know why she felt the need to throw his earlier admission in his face.

  He looked caught. “Yes, I did say that. I don’t know why I said that.”

  “Full disclosure,” she suggested.

  He shrugged and grinned. “Right. Full disclosure.”

  “Right.”

  “So.”

  “So?” Her heart rate ratcheted up another notch.

  “Look, let’s forget about earlier, okay? Do you want to hang out as friends? That keeps you safe from the whole ‘put the toy back’ thing, right? Which is good for you because—”

  “I have a boyfriend.” She flashed a smile.

  “Exactly.”

  Studying him, she didn’t know whether to believe him or not, but she decided to be on the safe side. “I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m working on my dissertation.”

  He frowned. “All the time?”

  “Pretty much.” She nodded.

  Hesitating, he looked past her, sizing up the house. “How many square feet?”

  “What?” She glanced back at the house. “I have no idea.”

  “How many rooms?”

  Flabbergasted, she sighed. “Too many, that’s all I know.”

  Pulling off his sunglasses, he stepped around her, perusing the outside and then peering into the glass next to the door. A low whistle hissed out of him. “High ceilings, nice chandelier.”

  Frustrated, she moved to block his view. “Cam, what are you doing here?”

  Frowning, he looked past her. “Is it a crime to admire a nice home?”

  Following his gaze inside the house, she sighed. “Rich people.”

  His eyebrows scrunched up. “What’s wrong with rich people?”

  This was something she hadn’t planned on getting into with him, but he had asked. “It just feels like the more money you get, the more space you have—space you don’t use. Isn’t that wrong? I mean, fundamentally?”

  “Why?” He shrugged. “They earned it.”

  “But they don’t use it.”

  He shrugged again. “Who cares?”

  Unable to believe she was really having this conversation, she sighed. “I just feel like it’s unfair.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there are so many people that don’t have anything.”

  He let out a sardonic laugh. “But they didn’t work for it.”

  “How do you know?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Lots of people work hard. Why shouldn’t they have more space?”

  Cam shrugged. “Because we live in America.”

  “Exactly. We should be more equal.”

  “Oh, brother.” Cam exhaled.

  Kat shook her head, finding it ridiculous that they were standing here debating a social issue. Talking with Cam made her feel the same as when she used to run the fifty-yard dash in high school. It was for this reason the next words came out of her mouth. “Meet me around the back at the cottage.”

&nbs
p; He flashed a grin. “Okay.”

  She hustled back in, taking care to lock all the doors. She hurried through the house, picking up her laptop, and dashed out the sliding glass door, locking it before running down the deck steps.

  Cam was just coming around the house and heading down the cobbled brick steps that led to the cottage. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you’d get in trouble.”

  Stopping right in front of him, she held up a hand. “I’m not in trouble, but please, pray tell, how did you get my address?” He didn’t seem like the stalker type. Well, except there was that hat, and the glasses. Until twenty minutes ago, he’d had a scraggly beard. Maybe he was the stalker type.

  Frowning, he exhaled and pulled off his hat, revealing his longer-on-top hair and shaved sides. Running a hand through it, he grinned. “What can I say? I know the right people.”

  Nervous butterflies filled her. “That’s what you’re going with?” Why did this man standing in front of her make her so nervous? Suddenly, she thought about how she looked. Pulling her computer in front of her, she rushed toward the cottage. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  He was fast and right on her heels. “Look, I found it in the Rolodex at the store, okay?”

  “Are you kidding me?” She paused.

  He quit moving too, looking all flustered. “The guy, Jet, wouldn’t give it to me.”

  Holding her computer with one hand, she shoved him in the chest. “That’s private information for a reason.”

  Grabbing her hand, he tugged his sunglasses off. “We have to talk about this.”

  Smoldering. If she’d ever taken a semester of creative writing, that’s how she would describe his blue eyes. Yanking her hand out of his, she backed up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He sighed. “Yes, you do.”

  She turned, getting to her front door and pushing it open. Then she spun back and shut the door in his face. “Go away.”

  He pounded on the door. “What are you doing?”

  Opening the door a peep, she shook her head. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t even know you.”

  He pulled back a bit and gave her a sheepish grin, running a hand over his lips and beard. “And yet I think we know each other better than most people after a first or even second date.”

  Letting out a growl—a growl that represented all of her frustration from the last few hours after kissing him—she locked the door. “Exactly.”

  Immediately, he pounded on it. “Kat, c’mon. Open up the door. We need to talk.”

  “No,” she said through the door.

  “Really? This is how you’re going to play it?”

  Built-up frustration forced her into opening the door a peep again. “Yes, this is how I’m going to play it. Thank you for saving my life, but please leave.”

  Slowly, he let out a breath. “So that’s it?”

  Tugging the door all the way open, she tilted her head to the side and shrugged. “That’s it.”

  He narrowed his eyes. A light laugh came out of him. “O-kay.” He turned away, then paused.

  “Just go.”

  He just stood there.

  Frowning, she pushed the door open and stepped out. “Go on.”

  But he still didn’t move.

  Moving closer to him, which was completely uncharacteristic of her, she gently pushed him in the shoulder. “Go.”

  Spinning back, he stood face to face with her. They were both breathing hard. All she could think of were his piercing blue eyes. Yes, for all that it sounded cliché, they really were piercing and blue, like the sky on a clear day. He smelled like some kind of manly soap, and she hated herself for even wondering what kind of soap it was. It was fresh like a clean breeze. There was another smell, maybe laundry detergent. He could really be in a commercial for laundry detergent, she decided. What did Steven smell like? Old Spice, maybe. She remembered the small green bottle, but she definitely didn’t remember him smelling this fresh, this … manly. Fighting her own response to him, she stepped back.

  But he stepped forward. “C’mon, Kat, tell me you don’t feel this.”

  She stumbled, almost falling.

  He reached out and stabilized her by grabbing her shoulders. “Whoa.”

  She gave him her best glare. It was the one she’d practiced over and over again in seventh grade, when Tommy Connors was grabbing at her every time she walked past his desk in chemistry class. She finally steadied herself and pulled back, crossing her arms. “You want to hear that you’ve ruined my day? Fine, you’ve ruined my day! I haven’t been able to concentrate on my dissertation and now I have to tell my boyfriend about …” She trailed off, hating herself for the confession.

  His lip twitched up. “I ruined your day?” He said it all sweet and syrupy.

  The nerve. The complete nerve of this … this …

  “Admit that I’m not crazy. There were … sparks or something earlier.”

  “I have a boyfriend,” she insisted, holding up her left hand. Too late, she saw her ring finger was empty. She had forgotten to put the ring back on her finger after the rafting trip.

  He pointed at her finger. “Look at that. You’ve already abandoned your fake ring.” He said it like some imbecile who’d won the prize pig at a county fair. Then he cocked his head to the side. “But so you know, Jet told me you’re engaged, so your whole fake tactic is working.”

  “What tactic?”

  “To keep strange guys away. Like Jet.”

  “Like you.” She threw at him. “You’re a strange guy, too.”

  “No, I’m not.” The look he gave her was severe and determined. “You deny having any type of feelings back there when your lips were pressed to mine? Of your own free will, I might add.”

  “You’re making it up.” She scoffed, all the more determined to deny the whacky assertions. “I resisted.”

  He actually had the gall to laugh. “Liar.”

  Deflection was her best option. “I can’t believe Jet let you get access to the Rolodex.” She seethed. “He is so fired.”

  Cam shook his head. “No, he’s not.”

  “Yes, he is.” She shoved him. “Just go.”

  He didn’t budge. He grabbed her and pulled her into him, kissing her again.

  But she pulled back, smacking him hard across the cheek, feeling her hand burn the instant she pulled it away.

  He jerked back like she’d electrocuted him. “What was that for?”

  “That was your invitation to leave.”

  Chapter 10

  Cam walked away completely confused and bewildered. Had she just slapped him? Really slapped him? No woman had ever slapped him … except for that fight between him and his sister when he was ten, maybe.

  “You deserved that,” she called after him.

  Pausing, he turned back. “Maybe,” he said noncommittally. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion. Had he deserved it?

  “Definitely,” she said, with fire burning in her aqua-green eyes.

  Unable to stop himself, he gave her a triumphant grin before opening his truck door. He pointed at her. “You kissed me back, Katherine Foster. You kissed me back twice.”

  She shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”

  He climbed in his truck, turning the key.

  She stood there, glaring at him, her hands on her hips. Unbelievable. She’d given him all the signs she was interested. Okay, yeah, she’d told him she had a boyfriend, too. But … but … but …

  He backed up, then rolled down the window, anger surging through him. “Forget it. I don’t need this drama in my life!”

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later, Cam got out of his truck, still completely worked up. He was about to change and put on his training clothes when he heard someone yelling at him: “Excuse me! Excuse me!”

  Cam turned as a man trotted up on a horse—a man he recognized as Montana Crew, famous country-rock star. It didn’t
surprise him that Montana had shown up. The realtor who’d sold him the place had actually texted him and asked if he would want to socialize with his neighbors. He’d said Montana was requesting a meet and greet. Cam had promptly texted back saying no, thank you. Even though part of him wanted to meet Montana, meet the kind of man who’d actually made it as a songwriter, he hadn’t felt like he’d been in a stable emotional place.

  Cam watched as Montana maneuvered the horse to the front of the house. He walked out onto the lawn and put on his media smile. “Montana, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “Hmph.” Montana easily slid off the horse and pulled off his glove before sticking his hand out to shake. “I’ve been trying to find a way to meet the big man, Cameron Cruz, since I heard you’d bought the place.”

  Cam took Montana’s hand and felt the matching calluses—calluses acquired from working a pitchfork. Something passed between them. Something that said, Yes, you’re a country guy. I trust you.

  “I have to apologize. I’ve been getting my head on straight the past few months.” Cam decided candor was his best defense for rudeness.

  Montana hooked his thumbs into his front pockets, next to his wide belt buckle. “I’m sorry to hear about your daddy.”

  There it was. There it had always been. Something private made so public. Cam knew people cared, but he didn’t want to talk about it. “Thanks.”

  Montana pulled off his Top Gun kind of sunglasses and gave Cam a leveling stare. “Are ya all right?”

  “Fine,” Cam lied.

  “Uh-huh.” Montana didn’t seem like he believed him. “You know I’ve done my share of hiding away from the media.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  A slight grin tugged at the corners of Montana’s face. “Heck, yeah. Sometimes you gotta get away from the press. You gotta go somewhere like Jackson Hole, with land to roam and horses. You gotta go somewhere where men go!” He let out a low growl.

  Unexpectedly, Cam laughed. He could see he was definitely going to get along with Montana.

  Montana nodded to his adjacent property. “What are you doing?”

  Cam came up short, thinking for a brief moment about the girl who had just smacked him a good one. He touched his face. “Licking my wound from the hand of a beautiful woman.”