Audrey found herself watching high school football for the second time that week. For someone who didn’t even like the sport, she’d sure dedicated a lot of time to it so far. Piper had been preoccupied with her My Little Ponies, which she’d set up in a circle underneath a shade tree in the backyard. She’d been in a stubborn mood all afternoon, and Audrey had had to bribe her with frozen yogurt after practice just to get the kid in the car. They’d been late, thanks to Piper’s unwillingness to leave her ponies.
Now she was busy with some coloring app on Audrey’s phone, with Jellybean propped on the bleacher next to her. She’d been relatively quiet, leaving Audrey to study the action on the field. And by “action” she most certainly did not mean Cameron, who’d been alternating between yelling at the players and pulling them aside to give them instruction. Audrey had tried paying attention to the practice, which was a jumbled mess of players gathering in small groups to work on different exercises. She thought maybe she’d be able to use the opportunity to learn more about the sport, so she wouldn’t seem like such a clueless nitwit in front of Cameron. Not that she cared what he thought.
“Is it just me, or does Cam seem distracted today?”
Audrey’s ears perked up at the two women seated behind her. They’d been engaging in casual conversation for most of the practice, bouncing from a honeymoon one had just taken to morning sickness the other had been dealing with.
Of course she hadn’t been trying to eavesdrop, but her attention had snapped to them when they’d mentioned Cameron’s name. Something about the way the one woman had said it, with a thread of familiarity, had sparked Audrey’s interest. They knew him, possibly as more than a friend.
“He seems like his usual grumpy self to me,” the other woman chimed in.
Yeah, they definitely knew him.
“I don’t know, something about him seems off,” the conversation continued. “He’s tense.”
For a flicker of a moment, Audrey thought about introducing herself and taking credit for said tension, but something held her back. She wasn’t sure why, but she had a feeling Cameron wouldn’t appreciate her broadcasting his situation with Piper to random people, even if these women did know him. So she kept her mouth shut, her eyes on practice, and her ears behind her.
A second later one of them tapped her on the shoulder.
Audrey turned and clapped eyes with a beautiful woman with long, thick, dark hair and bright blue eyes.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said with an open smile. “But are you Audrey?”
Was she supposed to know them? Had Cameron already told people about her and Piper? “Yes,” she answered with hesitation.
The woman slid her friend a look. “Told you.”
Her friend leaned forward. Her hair was a few shades lighter and pulled back into a high ponytail. “You’ll have to excuse Stella. Nothing is off-limits to her.” She stuck out her hand, and Audrey shook it. “I’m Annabelle Carpenter. Blake is my husband.”
Ah, Blake Carpenter, the coach. That would explain how they knew about her.
“Stella West,” the other woman offered.
Stella shook her hand as well, while assessing the two of them. They were both young and gorgeous with friendly smiles, though neither of them looked pregnant.
“Blake told us about you and your little girl,” Annabelle continued.
“Oh, Piper’s not my daughter. She’s…” Audrey’s words trailed off, because she didn’t know how much they knew. The only interaction she’d had with Blake Carpenter was the day she’d arrived in town and asked if he knew where to find Cameron. Had he assumed Piper was his love child? If so, what had he assumed about Audrey?
“She’s Cameron’s niece,” she finally explained, deciding it was better to just be out with it.
The two women flicked a glance at Piper; then the woman who introduced herself as Stella ran her gaze over Audrey. She glanced at the field, then back at her. “Something tells me you’re not Cam’s sister.” Stella leaned forward when Audrey had only gaped at her. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s been too busy sliding glances your way to coach his players. And no man I know looks at his sister like that, if you know what I’m saying.” Stella arched a brow. “And if he did, he’d be in some serious need of therapy.”
Um…
“Stella,” Annabelle chastised.
But Stella just shrugged, totally unaware of the fact that Audrey had just swallowed her tongue. “Just saying,” she replied.
Annabelle offered a comforting smile. “Like I said, you’ll have to excuse her.”
Audrey managed a smile, which was pretty difficult considering her tongue was lying at the bottom of her stomach. Had Cameron been checking her out? How come she hadn’t noticed?
“It’s all right,” she offered. She opened her mouth to say something else, maybe something witty to offset the fact they’d noticed Cameron looking at Audrey. An excuse, or something equally reasonable, like maybe there was a giant clock mounted outside the announcer’s box and he didn’t want to lose track of time. And that was why he kept turning his head in her direction. But she had nothing. Literally nothing.
Stella considered Audrey for a moment, as though trying to work the facts out in her head. Audrey wanted to put a screeching halt to it, because these women not only knew Cameron, but they were also way too observant for her comfort.
“So you’re not his sister,” Stella commented. “And I know you’re not involved with him, because you’re way too nice.” She paused, then added, “Cam has awful taste in women.”
“He really does,” Annabelle agreed.
Good grief, had she stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone?
Audrey had no clue how she was supposed to respond.
“I’m just here for Piper.” There. Nice and safe.
The two women just blinked at her. Were they expecting more?
“I’m sure Cameron will fill you in eventually,” Audrey continued.
Stella laughed. “I wouldn’t count on that. The man is annoyingly secretive.”
Annabelle placed her hand on Stella’s arm. “But we understand if you’re not comfortable talking about it.”
Stella tossed her friend an exasperated look. “Speak for yourself. I want the dirt.”
“How long are you in town?” Annabelle asked, probably in an attempt to hold her friend back.
“I’m not sure,” Audrey answered. “A month or so.”
Annabelle pulled a granola bar from her pocket and opened it, making Audrey wonder if she was the pregnant one. “Where are you staying?”
Now, this was a tricky question. Given the way the conversation had gone so far, Audrey didn’t want Stella to take the information and run with it. So far the woman had proved too observant and canny for Audrey’s comfort.
“I was at the Sunset Inn,” she answered, and left it at that.
The horrified look on Stella’s face told Audrey the woman was all too familiar with the Sunset Inn’s shortcoming. “Nice call relocating. That place is a dump.”
Annabelle took a bite of granola. “So where are you now?”
Audrey racked her brain for something, anything, other than so let me explain…
But Stella, the human lie detector/psychic took advantage of Audrey’s silence to draw her own conclusion. She placed a hand on Audrey’s shoulder. “Wait, don’t say it; let me guess,” she quipped. “Cameron offered you his guesthouse.”
“No way,” Annabelle said with a shake of her head.
Stella nodded. “Yep, he did, didn’t he?”
“So, let me explain,” Audrey blurted out, just as she had told herself not to.
Annabelle swallowed. “He seriously offered to let the two of you stay with him?” At Audrey’s weak nod, Annabelle shook her head. “I need to have a talk with that man.”
About what?
“Don’t you dare,” Stella ordered. “He has a nice, attractive woman who will hopefully rub off on him, and you’ll ruin it.”
Audrey ignored the “rubbing off” comment, because she didn’t want to do any rubbing of any kind with Cameron. Rubbing turned into other things that led to heavy breathing and panting. Okay, she knew Stella’s words were figurative, but that didn’t stop the graphic image that formed in her mind. The two of them rubbing, hands roaming all over. Mouths seeking each other. It would be hot and sweaty and messy. But good. It would be too good for Audrey to remain objective about her mission, and she needed to keep her mind clear.
“He’s just trying to do me a favor,” Audrey explained. “It was an economic decision. Plus it’ll help him get to know Piper better.”
Both women’s attention switched to the child, who was still engrossed in her coloring game.
Annabelle nodded as she finished her granola bar. “Okay,” she responded.
Hoping the subject was now dropped, Audrey glanced at the field to spot Cameron talking to a man dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt. Cameron’s back went straight as they talked, but his gaze remained firmly on his players. For some reason he didn’t want to give the other man the time of day, and Audrey’s interest was more than a little piqued.
She turned back to Stella and Annabelle. “Who’s that man talking to Cameron?”
“That’s Drew Spalding, the district’s athletic director,” Annabelle answered. “He and Cameron don’t exactly get along.”
Stella snorted. “They hate each other.”
Audrey glanced back at the field to see Cameron had moved away from Drew. “Why?” she asked the women.
Stella and Annabelle exchanged a glance, silently communicating something that Audrey couldn’t pick up on. Finally, Annabelle answered, “That’s something Cam should tell you about.”
Audrey highly doubted he’d open up to her, especially about something so personal. Whatever story there was between the two men, Audrey couldn’t help but wonder if it was part of the reason Cameron held himself so aloof. A handful of friends, maybe one or two family members. Probably his mom. Automatically, she thought of the way he’d talked to Piper the other night in the backyard. He’d been sweet and patient with her. He hadn’t talked down to her or ignored her like a lot of adults did. He’d gotten down to her level and engaged her. For some reason she felt the need to credit his mom for that. She bet the two of them had a close relationship.
“He doesn’t like to talk about it,” Annabelle expanded, reminding Audrey what they’d been talking about. “Cameron’s…” Annabelle tilted her head to the side, as though trying to pin down the most accurate way to describe the man.
Audrey could come up with a few words, but they probably wouldn’t be the same words Annabelle would use.
“Private,” Stella concluded.
Annabelle nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good way of putting it. He likes his privacy.”
“But don’t let him fool you into thinking he doesn’t like to get close to people,” Stella went on. “Because he does. You just have to chip through the wall he likes to put between himself and everyone else.”
Audrey had a feeling that would be easier said than done.
Cameron’s niece, whom he’d only known for two days now, already had the ability to calm the simmering storms that sometimes threatened to take over. He’d finished practice with the overwhelming urge to commit bodily harm to anyone who so much as looked at him the wrong way.
Damn it, why did he always allow Drew to get to him?
Now he was sitting in a brightly lit frozen yogurt shop, watching Piper pick the gummy bears off her birthday cake–flavored yogurt. At first, he’d turned down their invitation for yogurt, because he’d been in a shit mood and only wanted his rifle and a set of bottles to blow up. But then he’d gotten a second look in Piper’s deep green eyes and found himself saying, “Sure, just give me a minute.”
He’d ignored the surprise on Audrey’s face, which had mirrored his own shock, and met them at Yo-Yo Fro-Yo. Frozen yogurt had never been his thing, but the stuff was cold and sweet, and Piper seemed to love it. She’d dragged the cat with her, as she had everywhere else. The thing even had its own chair and an empty cup, which Piper would occasionally dip her spoon into to feed the cat.
Cameron switched his attention to Audrey, who’d been too busy swirling her spoon around her yogurt to actually eat it.
“Something wrong with your yogurt?” he asked her.
Audrey blinked up at him. “No, it’s good.”
She was distracted. He knew this because she’d yet to seize an opportunity to either drive her point home about Piper or make his pulse fly off the charts.
“I called today about getting Piper enrolled in school,” Audrey announced.
Shit, he’d spoken too soon.
“Okay,” was all he said. Because how else was he supposed to respond? One of the reasons he’d offered his guesthouse was so he’d have more of an opportunity to convince Audrey he couldn’t take Piper. Didn’t she see how unfit and clueless he was about kids?
“I need some kind of proof of residency,” she told him. “A mortgage statement or utility bill.”
“Isn’t she a little young for school?” Cameron hedged as he dug into his yogurt.
“She’s six,” Audrey answered. “She’s supposed to start kindergarten this year, and school’s already been in session for a month. I don’t want her to fall too far behind.”
Perfectly logical argument, but Cameron couldn’t bring himself to agree. Instead he remained silent and took another bite of yogurt.
“You don’t still think I’m going to take her back to Boulder, do you?” Audrey questioned.
Well, yeah, he was kind of hoping…
Audrey shook her head. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Gee, could they?
“I met some friends of yours at practice,” Audrey said.
Yeah, he’d seen Audrey deep in conversation with two women who’d made it their life’s mission to marry Cameron off to a “nice woman.” Actually, he loved Annabelle and Stella. They were fearless and gutsy and perfect matches for Blake and Brandon.
Audrey leaned forward with a half smile curling the corners of her mouth, one he’d been thinking about kissing. “Are you going to tell me not to believe anything they said?”
Cameron set his empty yogurt cup aside. “Depends on what they said.”
Audrey’s grin widened. “They said you’re grumpy and surly and private.”
Cameron couldn’t help his own smile. “In that case, believe it.”
One of Audrey’s brows arched. “But see, I already knew that about you.”
Beside him, Piper fed more invisible yogurt to her stuffed cat. “And yet you want to leave a six-year-old with me.”
Some of the light in Audrey’s eyes dimmed. “Not me. I told you, that was Dianna’s decision. I’m just trying to fulfill her wishes.” She leaned her elbows on the table. “But something tells me you won’t be like that with Piper. You have a soft spot for her.”
The thing was, he didn’t want to have a soft spot for the kid. Yeah, she was cute, and her smile was pure, and sometimes when she looked at him he saw…
To be completely honest, sometimes he saw himself. The same grief. Confusion. Uncertainty. Cameron knew better than anyone how that could shake a child’s world. Make them feel alone. Scared. In his case, the fear and loneliness had turned into anger and resentment. Some people would probably take any opportunity to go back and change things, to make things perfect, but not him. All the raw emotions that had swirled around him as a kid, that had clouded his dreams and shattered his sense of stability, had shaped him into the man he was today. He liked his solitary life. He liked being able to bring women to an empty house. He wasn’t ready to give up his no-strings-attached lifestyle. Not for Audrey or anyone else.
He didn’t respond to her observation. Yeah, he did have a soft spot for Piper. But that didn’t mean he was fit to raise her.
He blew out a sigh. “Look, Audrey…”
Audrey shook her head. “Don’t you dare.”
Cameron blinked.
“I’ve been on the receiving end of enough ‘Look, Audreys’ to know it’s never good. I can’t legally take her back to Boulder with me,” Audrey informed him. “She’s supposed to stay with you.”
“I know,” he admitted.
The surprise that flashed across Audrey’s eyes matched Cameron’s. Oddly enough, the words hadn’t struck him dead when he’d said them.
“But you have to understand,” he went on, “I don’t know anything about kids.”
“Neither did Dianna, but she adapted and was an amazing mother.”
Cameron shook his head. “It’s different for women.”
Audrey gazed at him for a moment, then leaned back in her chair. “Huh. Annabelle and Stella didn’t mention how sexist you are.”
“I’m just stating a fact,” he argued, because, shit, he didn’t want her thinking that about him. “Plus, women have nine months to prepare themselves.”
“So you’re just going to give up without even trying?” Audrey pushed. “Funny, but I wouldn’t have pegged you for a quitter.”
Dammit, he wasn’t a quitter. “I’ve never been a quitter,” he told her. “But I’m just trying to be realistic here.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she said with a shrug. “I doubt you could do this. You’d probably screw her up anyway, so you should go ahead and admit defeat.”
Okay, wait a minute.
“I never said that,” he argued, even though he knew damn good and well what she was up to. Audrey Bennett was a crafty little thing who’d picked up on his pride and used it against him. And he hadn’t even seen it coming. “I could do this,” he told her.
She considered him for a moment, running her light brown eyes over him and touching on places that felt like more of a stroke. “I don’t think you can,” she finally said.
Piper scraped the bottom of her yogurt bowl and licked her spoon, totally unaware of the tension brewing like a late afternoon thunderstorm.
Cameron leaned forward and pinned her with the most threatening glower that always had his players shaking in their cleats. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” His attention involuntarily dropped to her mouth. How had he not noticed how full her lips were before now?
She offered a shrug, as though she were totally unaffected by his scrutiny. But her dilated pupils gave her away, offering Cameron a moment of triumph. “I’m not doing anything,” she hedged. “Just pointing out the obvious. It’s okay to admit you’re not good at everything. We all can’t be winners.”
Okay, she wanted to play? Cameron knew how to play like an Olympic champion. In fact, he’d practically invented the game. He’d play her so good that she’d never realize the games were finished. He’d be strumming her like a guitar.
Only Cameron didn’t play fair. And he didn’t intend to play the same game as she was. She thought she knew what she was getting into, but she didn’t have a clue.
“Cameron,” Piper said. The kid was bouncing in her seat and had dried yogurt smeared across one cheek. “Can Jellybean have the rest of your yogurt?”
Cameron picked up his empty cup and showed it to her. “It’s empty. See?”
Piper pointed to the empty cup. “But there’s enough left for her.”
Cameron tossed a confused glance at his cup, then realized Piper had spent the last thirty minutes feeding imaginary yogurt to her stuffed cat. “Have at it,” he told her. “I even saved some jelly beans for her.”
Piper’s face lit up like a kid at Christmas. “Those are her favorite!” she exclaimed.
“I know,” he said with a wink.
A glance at Audrey showed her grinning at him as though to say, Aw, I knew you could do it. He half expected her to give him a gold star. Maybe a pat on the head.
It was so game on.