TWENTY
Cammie
“Second day in a row, honey.”
I roll my eyes at Mum’s statement. She wouldn’t come out and actually say it, but I know what she hints at—she’s usually lucky if I call her twice in a week. I’m so stubbornly independent.
“Well, because I’m sure your visit yesterday had a little something to do with it, I thought I’d share a milestone with you.”
“You learned how to shop for real food?” She laughs at her own joke.
“No, Mum.” I take deep breath, twisting my grip on the steering wheel. “I opened Taylah’s door.”
She falls so quiet, I have to check the dashboard display to make sure I haven’t dropped the call. “Mum?”
“How did you go?” she asks softly. “Are you okay today?”
Truthfully? No, I’m not. I spent the majority of the day at work stumbling my way through my tasks with the blind focus of a zombie. My thoughts were trapped amongst the images of Taylah the day she died at her kiddie table, eating her lunch. The last positive memory I have of her, considering what we did in the following hour was never more than a blur. The next clear memory I can dredge up is the flash of blue and red as I opened my eyes to an officer shaking me awake.
They thought I had overdosed. I wish I had.
“She’s been on my mind a lot, but I think I’m okay with that.”
“Duke?” she says. “What did he do?”
“Talked me off a ledge.” A smile creeps onto my lips as I think back to this morning. “He was great about it all, really.”
“That’s good, honey. I’m honestly so glad to hear it.”
“You know,” I say with slight jest to my tone, “it’s a bit low to enlist the help of a stranger like that.”
“He’s a nice boy,” she protests. “And it worked, didn’t it?”
“I guess.”
She lets the silence hang a while as I drive, my thoughts a jumbled mess. Taylah, Jared, the house sale, and now Duke. So many things demanding attention at once.
“Is there something else?” Mum asks carefully.
“Jared wants me to sell the house.”
Her sharp intake of air is deafening in the confines of my car. “Why? He agreed to let you stay there as long as you covered the mortgage on your own. What does he want with it now? I knew we should have forced him to transfer his name off the documents.”
“We couldn’t, remember? To do that I would have had to draw down again, and I didn’t have the lending power on my own to do that.”
“Yes, I do remember now.” She sighs. “Damn it, Cam. What are you going to do? I hope you’re going to fight his sorry arse.”
“I tried, but he doesn’t want to hear about it.”
“How long has this been going on?” Mum asks.
“A couple of weeks.”
“And you’re only telling me now? Cam …”
I sigh, fingers flexing on the wheel. “I thought I might be able to talk him out of it, make him see reason and the whole thing would blow over. But I can’t. The sale is going ahead.”
She hesitates before saying quietly, “Maybe it’s for the best. Everything happens for a reason, sweetheart.”
“I know. I’m just not ready yet, you know?” I take a deep breath and hold strong before I let myself slip into the past once more. “I told him to list the house with an agent who’s related to Kell.”
“Cammie,” Mum drones. “What would you do that for? She’ll be biased.”
“Exactly. He wouldn’t let her get away with a cheaper price in the name of a quick sale, so if I have to sell, I may as well make the most profit I can out of it.” Perhaps, given inflation over the past five years, I’ll walk away with enough to put a healthy deposit on another old villa, this time on a smaller property, so I can follow through with my B&B idea. Got to look for that silver lining.
“What’s the asking price?”
“Why, Mum?”
“What’s the asking price?” she repeats more matter-of-fact.
I sigh, shifting gears to turn into the driveway. “The last rateable valuation put the house and land at a bit over four hundred thousand.”
“I’ll talk to your father,” she says before promptly hanging up.
“Mum!”
It’s no use. She’s left me with that statement knowing I’d give her heaps about the crazy plan she’s no doubt cooking. She can’t afford to buy it, let alone be a guarantor for me. But Dad … Dad has the lending power, and she knows I’d never ask him for a huge helping hand like that. Damn it all.
I park the car and then head into the house to find Duke, find out what he’s been up to today. Hearing him talk about anything at all sounds like heaven. He could recite the things he ate in chronological order and I’d be grateful for the distraction.
The place is quiet as I set my bag down on the side table in the entrance, save for the sound of running water.
Not going there, Cammie. Totally not thinking about my stranded traveller in the shower … naked … wet.
“I’m home!” I call out, as much to take my mind off the visuals I’m conjuring up as to let Duke know.
“In the shower!”
Lord, baby Jesus …
Fanning myself with one hand I make my way through to the living room and come to a grinding halt. The sofas have been rearranged exactly how I suggested, but on top of that, he’s pulled some of my framed pictures of Taylah and me out of the sideboard and arranged them on the lamp table.
My arse hits the seat cushion as I collapse and reach for the foremost photo. I forgot about this one, how it used to be my favourite. She’s so pretty, all decked out in her overalls and gumboots as she helps Jared clean the back porch with the water blaster. The photo’s just of her though; I wouldn’t know Jared were there if the day wasn’t set in my memories.
Twenty-five degrees and not a cloud in the sky. We’d planned to visit his parents, but because it was the first fine Saturday we’d had in weeks, we took the opportunity to do odd jobs around the house instead. The two of them—father and daughter—finished off the last of the work for the day, late afternoon, while I ducked inside to prepare dinner. I’d happened to step out to check on Taylah, make sure she wasn’t getting in Jared’s way, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take a snap.
Thank God I did. Where would I be now if I’d just smiled and enjoyed the moment at the time, not saving it for later?
For forever?
“Hey.” Duke’s quiet greeting startles me out of my state of reminiscing.
“Hey.”
He takes a seat opposite me, watching me carefully, as though searching for clues as to how I really feel about this. “You can put them back if you like.”
“No, it’s good,” I tell him, resolute in my answer. “If you hadn’t pulled the pictures out, I don’t know if I ever would have.”
He makes a small humming noise as he leans back in the seat, his hair still damp, and his skin holding a slight flush from the heat of the shower.
“This one,” I say, handing him the picture of Taylah. “It’s my favourite. She was helping her dad clean the porch out there.” I point toward the back of the house.
“Cute.” He smiles, but I can tell it’s that forced kind of compliment from a person who can see a child’s appeal to others, yet doesn’t actually like children.
Duke passes the picture back, pointing to the one behind as I set it back on the table. “I like that one of you both. It’s natural, more special.”
“Yeah.” Another treasured memory. “My mum took that at Dad’s birthday party.”
“Your parents still together?”
“No. But they’re friends.”
“Hmm.” He twists his lips to the side. “Must be nice.”
He sounds bitter. “Makes things less confrontational, definitely.” I give him a moment to say something, yet he stays silent, staring at the pictures on the table. “Was it hard for you, when your father left? I mean, you said he wasn’t all that nice.”
“So you’re wondering if I was relieved?”
When you put it like that … “Yeah.”
Duke’s chest rises as he takes a deep breath and spreads his arms across the back of the sofa. “I didn’t miss him, but I also wasn’t happy that he’d left, if that makes sense.”
“I think I understand.”
The silence between our stunted dialogue echoes louder with each pause we take. Maybe two tough nights in a row, when it comes to conversation, isn’t such a flash idea.
“Any clue what we should make for dinner tonight?” I ask, putting as much cheer into my words as I can.
“You pick.” His eyes find mine, the expression there not one I can read. Is he irritated that I asked about his dad? Is he annoyed to still be here? Is he pissed that I’ve essentially avoided talking about what happened this morning and placed us squarely back in the “friends” box?
“Well, tomorrow will be a meal on the run because I’ve got a fundraising event to be at straight after work, so I guess I should pick something healthy tonight to make sure I’m not eating too much junk. Not that I was thinking of doughnuts and candy or anything insane like that, but you know what I mean.”
Duke smiles.
“What?” I ask. Why is talking about dinner so amusing? “You asked me what I wanted us to have for dinner, and I was thinking out loud instead of sitting here looking rude, as though I was ignoring you.”
“Nothing, Cam.”
“Didn’t look like nothing. I mean, you wouldn’t just smirk at me like that if it was. You must have thought about something amusing to start smiling like an idiot.”
He keeps going, his lips spreading into a wicked grin.
“Tell me,” I cry, nudging his knee with my foot. “Do I have something on my face? Is my hair all blown into a bird’s nest?” I feign shock. “I know—there’s someone behind me, isn’t there.”
He chuckles, pushing off the seat to stand. “Nah, babe.” His fingertips brush my knee as he passes by on his way to the kitchen. “It’s nice seeing you back to normal, is all.”
“Normal?” I ask, following him. “What do you mean by ‘normal’?”
He takes a bottle of water from the fridge and holds it between his hands. “I mean, you’re chatty, smiling. You’ve got that, that”—he winds a hand at my face—“sparkle about you.”
“Sparkle.” I snort. “I’m not a unicorn, Duke. Missing my fairy wings as well, if that was your preference.”
“Glow, then. You’ve got a glow. Although that’s the kind of thing I’d say to a pregnant woman, and unless you’ve yet to share something with me, I’m sure that’s not you.”
“Well …” I bite my lip and frown.
The panic that washes through him head to toe is nothing short of hilarious. “Cam, you better not be fucking with me.”
“Why?” I ask feigning naïve innocence.
He sets the unopened bottle down on the counter, his eyes hooded as he sizes me up. “Because …” He takes a step toward me. “One: it makes me wonder who the fuck the douche is that would knock a woman up and then walk. And two: if you were kidding—which I think you are—you’re gonna pay for making a fool out of me.” He approaches, doing a fine job of making himself appear bigger and more menacing as he closes in with a cheeky smile. “Who’s the guy, Cam?”
“No guy.” Nerves have me giggling like a damn schoolgirl as he gets close enough for me to touch and then lunges for the kill.
I squeal, darting to my left and twisting out of his grasp as I make a run for the living room.
“You can run,” he calls out, teasing, “but you can’t hide.”
I bolt through the hallway, wrenching the back door open before he reaches me with his long strides. “Do your best, soldier!”
The grass is dewy underfoot, the first hues of dusk painting the horizon as I run toward the fence line. Slowing to a jog, I turn and trot backward, casing him out. Duke drops off the porch, choosing to keep to a long stride as he bears down on me.
“You make me run, woman, I promise your punishment will be twice as rough.” Why does that sound so good? “I’m warning you now, I don’t like doing any cardio if I don’t have to.”
I laugh, turning back to face the fence as I zero in on the wooden stile. “Catch me if you can!”
I’ve got no idea where I’m planning on running to in thick-soled Goth boots. All I know is that I haven’t had this much fun in years: fun kicking back and letting go of my inhibitions. Finding the playful side of myself that I quarantined to the dark corners of my mind after Taylah’s death.
I took everything that meant happiness and locked it away, afraid that if I showed too much joy in the little things, people would assume that I’d let Taylah go. That I ever could.
My feet swish through the overgrown field as I sprint over the bumpy ground toward the stand of pines at the property line. Duke’s heavier footfalls thud behind me, his pace telling me he is, in fact, running. I press on, pumping my legs harder as I laugh like I haven’t in a long damn time. It feels good: the burn of the evening air into my lungs, the grass on my legs.
It feels good, that is, until I’m knocked off balance by one hard and heavy body, falling flat on my front, my hands doing little to soften my fall. “Ow!”
I’m rolled to my back, Duke braced over top of me, the muscles in his arms defined as he holds himself clear of my body so he can check me over. “Are you okay? I took you down a bit harder than I expected.”
“I guess this is the part where you tell me you were in a rugby team, too?”
“Isn’t every Kiwi guy at some point in his life?”
Fair enough. I chuckle, making a move to get out from underneath him, yet he doesn’t give me leave to do so. Instead, his elbows bend slightly, his body dropping closer to mine.
“Duke, what are you doing?”
“You need to laugh like that more often,” he says quietly, his eyes moving over my face, settling on my lips. “It’s a good sound on you.”
“You need to laugh more often, period.” I reach between us, settling my hand gently on his chest, testing the limits.
“How does this work?” he asks, his head dipping down, his breath tickling my face as he talks. “Once the car’s fixed—”
“Fuck the car.” I let my hand slide to his neck and run my thumb along the underside of his strong jaw. “What does it matter?”
“It gets fixed, I leave,” he murmurs. “This …” He tucks his chin to his chest, seeming to look down at how our bodies touch at the hips. “Us—it won’t last.”
“Only if you don’t want it to.” My heart lives in my throat as I search his eyes, looking for the truth. Does he want this? He said I drive him nuts, but isn’t love a kind of madness? Could he love me, or will I only be a passing phase, a moment of lust, a simple dream?
“I want it too, Cam.” Duke’s eyes find mine, his throat bobbing hard as he swallows. “But wanting it and getting it are two different things.”
“So have what you can now. Don’t worry about the future—forget the past. Live this with me. Fuck, just enjoy what we’re doing, acting like two teenagers in an overgrown field. How often can you say you’ve let go and lived, Duke?”
His brow furrows, his eyes darkening the same as the sky does over us. I flex my hand on his neck to hold him here with me, make sure he doesn’t slip away to some place I’m not familiar with, a time gone by that I don’t know how to find him in.
“Live with me,” I whisper, pressing on his nape with my fingertips to urge him closer.
He lets out a heavy sigh through his nose, and then drops his mouth to mine. It’s everything our stolen kisses this morning and last night weren’t: urgent, needed, hungry. He tilts his head, burying one hand in my hair as he drops to his forearms in the grass. I gasp at the sudden pang as he pulls tight, anchoring me to him and stealing my next breath with his desperate kiss.
I wanted him to need me. I wanted him to save me from myself. But as he closes his eyes tight and pulls away to press his forehead to mine, I wonder who it was our chance meeting rescued from a life sentence of grief?
“It’s okay,” I whisper, unsure what exactly I’m assuring him of.
All I know is that behind those eyes, a battle rages. One that’s not fought overseas with guns and tanks, but one that wreaks havoc in the homeland with harshly spoken words and misguided beliefs.
He’s so hard on himself, his worst critic, but why?
“You’re the first since her,” he says through strained tones. “There hasn’t been anyone else; never could be.”
“The first what?” I loop both arms around his neck, holding him to me, not allowing him to walk away from what we’ve started here.
“The first woman I’ve kissed in a long fucking time.” He pushes on his hands, breaking my hold as he rears back to kneel between my legs. “I’ve been back from the war for three years, Cam. Three years, I’ve stuck to myself. Three years, I lived in limbo, refusing to believe there was anyone else for me.”
“What are you talking about?” I push up on my elbows, frustrated that this isn’t where our kiss was supposed to lead, but equally intrigued. “Who are you talking about?”
“My wife.”
His fucking what? “You’re married?”
“Was,” he murmurs. “She died.”
I want to disappear. I feel so ashamed. He’s been listening to me break apart these past days, and he’s been hiding this? “Duke, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have got riled up like that. I’m … shit, I don’t know what else to say.”
His lips tilt up in a sad smile. “I finally silenced you, huh?”
A short, sharp laugh erupts from my chest. “I guess so.”
He reaches for my hand, taking it in his and pulling me up so I sit in front of him, my legs splayed in a most un-ladylike fashion on either side of his. “I didn’t want to kill the mood, Cam. I’m sorry. It’s just …”
“The reality hit you hard?”
“Yeah.” He frowns, tracing my cheek with his fingertip. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything. Hell, you should be proud.”
“Proud?” I say with a laugh. “What on earth for?”
“Being the amazing woman you are. I swore off ever dating again, adamant that I’d lost my only chance at being happy. And after that, it just became normal to be on my own, normal to stick to myself. But you …” He shakes his head, looking down to my lap as he takes my hands in his. “You won’t relent. You’re in my head even when you’re not here.”
“I have that effect on people,” I tease.
He smiles, lifting his gaze to mine. “Do you believe in fate?”
I nod, the belief that he was placed in my path for a reason so strong I can almost taste it. People don’t come into your life without purpose; they always have a role to play. How else could I justify only being given a little less than five short years with Taylah?
“I want to try this,” Duke says, shaking my hands gently as though to drive his conviction home. “My gut tells me I’d be stupid to pass you up, even though my heart tells me this can only be trouble.”
“Thank you, I guess?” I twist my lips up in an unsure smile. He was complimenting me, right?
Duke huffs out a small laugh, moving his hands to my face. “Now let’s stop talking and try again, huh?”
He doesn’t need to tell me twice. I tilt my head, letting my eyes slip closed as he kisses me again, this time slower and with more purpose. He tells me through his touch that he’s for real, that he legitimately wants to see where this leads. He promises with the slow and measured way he coaxes me to lie down that I can back out at any time, no questions asked.
Yet I don’t want to. My back hits the grass, and I hook my legs around his hips, my calves pulling him flush against me. Duke holds our kiss as he drops to his forearms again, his chest pressed so tightly against mine that I couldn’t mistake the quickened beat of his heart if I tried.
The sun has all but set as he moves those hot lips of his to my jaw, kissing a line down my neck to my shoulder. I tip my head back, ignoring the scratch of the dirt below as I part my lips on a silent moan. His rough hand slides across my collarbone as his lips linger on my jaw, his fingers tucked beneath the edge of my cardigan.
I couldn’t pick a more perfect evening: the stars come out to play as the last rays of light die off, the night providing a spectacular backdrop as I look at the man who carefully kisses his way down my body. It’s too much, too fast, yet at the same time it feels only natural.
I’ve never been able to click with someone like I have Duke. Maybe our first day together had teething problems, but the time we’ve shared since has been easy, natural, comfortable. I don’t feel judged when I’m with him, and most importantly, I trust him. I don’t believe he’d ever intentionally hurt me.
“You with me?” he whispers in gruff tones as he returns to lie over me, his hands either side of my head.
“Wouldn’t be anywhere else.” I push my shoulders back, reaching up to meet his lips in another stolen kiss.
The rumble in his chest vibrates through my own, a gasp falling from my parted lips as he shunts a hand beneath my butt to press me harder against him. There’s no denying how he feels now. None at all.
The grass shrouds us from the moonlight that takes over from the day before, yet it still provides enough light for me to make out the intensity in Duke’s eyes as he holds my gaze.
He doesn’t have to say anything at all for me to know he’s asking permission, asking if this is okay. I rock my hips into his in reply, my bottom lip pinched between my teeth as I urge him to follow through with whatever thought runs through his mind.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?” He searches my eyes, a small furrow in his brow. “But it’s not what got to me.”
Words fail me as he tucks a hand beneath my loose shirt, and palms my stomach, squeezing my side.
“It’s all of you, Cam. They say true beauty lies within, and babe, you’ve got that in spades.” His wrist turns, his fingers edging beneath the waist of my leggings and thong until he cups me in his firm hold. I moan without inhibition as his fingers apply the barest pressure.
“You’re going to wreck me,” I half-heartedly protest, pushing against his hand to beg for more.
“You ruined me the moment you threw your damn car in reverse, woman.”
He splays his fingers, parting me for better access. I’m soaked, and I know it—itching for release at his hand. “Jesus, Cam.”
“Totally your fault.” I groan as he slides a digit through the wet folds.
Duke doesn’t hesitate, his breaths coming quick and heavy as he pushes one, and then two fingers inside of me. He shakes his head as though he can’t believe that we’re lying out in the field, doing this. Hell, I can’t, but it doesn’t mean I’m about to halt things. “God you look amazing when you’re turned on.”
He better shut that mouth of his unless he wants me to come already. My chest rises and falls in shallow bursts as he pumps his fingers in and out, flicking my nub with his thumb. “Oh, God …”
“Good?” His voice is husky and raw as he leans down to steal a chaste kiss.
“Best,” I pant, wriggling to get my hips closer to his hand.
He pushes harder, faster, laying hot kisses across my neck and chest as he does. My muscles tighten, causing him to rear back and slow his pace.
“Don’t stop,” I beg, anticipating the release I know is about to hit.
“It’s okay,” he assures me. “I won’t stop. Just wanted to see your face when you come.”
Fuck me. It’s all he has to say. My back arches off the ground, my thighs clamping down hard on his arm as he thrusts his hand hard to finish me off.
I was right. So right.
This man has totally wrecked me.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he mutters before pulling his hand free to lick his fingers clean.
So wrecked. I close my eyes with a satisfied sigh as my body sags back against the ground. I choose to lie there and revel in the rush that still pulses through my body a little longer before even considering returning the favour.
As my breaths even out and my climax-induced euphoria dies off, it dawns on me that Duke’s fallen deathly quiet.
I open my eyes, expecting to find him watching me, waiting. But I don’t.
My heart picks up pace for an entirely different reason when I find instead, Duke still kneeling between my legs, only his focus isn’t on me anymore.
“Duke? Everything okay?” I push up on my elbows, scooting back so I can shift to my knees, same as him.
He doesn’t answer; his eyes are hard, his brow pinched as he stares off into the dark field beyond.
“What is it?” I whisper, searching the grass for whatever he’s seen. “Duke? Talk to me.” What the hell is he looking at?
His gaze slides back to mine, but I’m met with an entirely different man to the one who made me forget where I was mere seconds ago. His jaw clenches, his throat bobbing as he swallows.
Yet still, he says nothing.
“Duke, you’re scaring me.”
What have I done?