Chapter Thirteen

Scarlett

I flipped on my new Bluetooth speaker, pulled up a sappy playlist on Amazon, and blared the smooth sound of Adele belting out a song about lost love. I had screwed up. Why in the hell I had thought it would be a good idea to tell Isaac I was engaged was beyond me. It was one of those things that had basically fallen out of my mouth before my brain had had a chance to stop it.

Now I had to figure out how to get Isaac to go away. One part of me almost wished he would do something violent enough to get arrested. On the other hand, I didn’t actually want him to hurt me. I felt as crazy as I knew Isaac to be. I was actually wishing violence on myself. I had to be losing my damn mind.

I had spent the day cleaning up. Now, I wished I hadn’t. I needed something to keep me busy, to keep my mind off everything. I grabbed my laptop—one of the few things that had been spared during Isaac’s rather violent temper tantrum. I checked my email and was disappointed not to see any emails from the many jobs I had applied to.

Way to kick a girl when she was down.

The sad music was dragging me into a serious funk. I was not a victim.

“I’m not a victim!” I stood up so fast, the dining chair flew across the room. “No way! You are not going to win, Isaac.”

I grabbed my phone, flipped through the stations, and put on something a little more upbeat. I needed to get mad. I wanted to be fierce. I wasn’t entirely sure how one became something they had never been before, but I was going to learn.

Mindset—that was what Hannah always told me. She was small but scrappy. She wasn’t much bigger than me, but no man would ever do to her what Isaac had done to me. Well, a man may try, but I was confident she would grab him by the balls and put a stop to anything she didn’t like.

I could be like that. I hoped. I wanted to be. If I was going to survive this thing with Isaac, I had to be. It wasn’t an option. I didn’t need Cameron. I didn’t need to lie. Screw Isaac.

The second I had the thought, goose bumps broke out across my skin and my stomach felt like it had been twisted into knots. My new fighter mentality was going to take some time to fully adopt.

The music was bumping, and Katy Perry was singing about roaring like a lion. I wanted to roar. I belted out the lyrics, pumping up my self-esteem with every line. I swayed my hips, bounced up and down, and let the energy of the music envelop me.

The song ended and the brief silence between tracks was all I needed to hear a knock on the door. It was like icy water being dumped over a fire. My palms felt slick and my legs began to shake. I wanted to run and hide in a closet. The only person who would be knocking on my door at eight thirty on a Monday night was Isaac.

Another knock, a little louder this time. My mouth went dry. I didn’t know what to do. Did I answer it? Did I call the police? And say what?

On legs that felt unsteady, I walked to the door and peered through the peephole. Relief flooded my body and left me feeling weak. I pulled it open and stared, unable to speak just yet.

“Are you alone?” the deep voice asked.

I nodded. “Radio,” I said by way of explanation with as few words as possible.

“Can we talk?” Cameron asked a little hesitantly.

My mouth opened and closed. I was so relieved to see him and yet so pissed. He had shut me down earlier. He’d had good reason, but it still smarted a bit.

“Now?” I asked, a little out of breath after my solo dance party.

He nodded his head. “At my place. I just put Ella to bed. I need to get back over there.”

“Talk?”

“Yes. Will you come over?”

I realized he was nearly shouting. The music was blaring so loud he had to raise his voice to be heard.

“Um, yeah. I’ll be right there,” I told him, feeling a little anxious.

“I’ll see you in a few.”

I shut off the speaker, took a few deep breaths to calm myself, and then looked at my reflection in the mirror. It would have to do. If I plastered on makeup, he would know I wanted to look good for him. That would look a little too desperate. Desperate was not attractive.

His silhouette on the front stoop of his house gave me comfort as I walked across our yards. Although he had shot down my idea, I knew, in my very soul, Cameron had my back. He would protect me. He would shelter me and give me the comfort I so desperately needed. The man was a natural protector.

“Hi,” I said, feeling a little sheepish.

“Hi,” he said with a warm smile. “Come inside. Did you eat?”

Just like that, three simple words and I felt so cared for. “I’m good. Thank you.”

“Did I interrupt something earlier?” he asked.

I felt a blush cover my cheeks. “Not really. I was just listening to some music.”

He chuckled. “We all were.”

“Sorry. You’re not going to give me a nuisance ticket, are you?” I joked.

He smirked. “I haven’t decided yet.”

He gestured for me to have a seat on the couch. I sat down and waited for him to tell me what was on his mind.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier,” he started in that smooth baritone voice that made me feel as if he were caressing my skin.

“I’m sorry I brought it up.”

He shook his head and blessed me with a small smile. “It’s okay. I get it. You did what you thought would get him off your back. I’ve done some thinking on it. I want to help you.”

“You do?” I squeaked.

“I do. We need to talk about a few of the details, but I will do whatever I can to keep you safe. I know you’re worried. Anything I can do to help calm some of those fears, I’ll do it. If I have to stand outside your door in uniform with my gun at the ready, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

I took a deep breath. I hadn’t been able to hear it in the moment, but I understood his hesitations. I would never be able to live with myself if something were to happen to Ella or Cameron. I had created this mess, and it wasn’t fair to keep dragging others into it. I needed to stand up and do it myself.

“Cameron—”

He held up a hand. “First of all, if we are going to be fake engaged, you need to call me Cam. My friends call me Cam. I want you too as well.”

I took another breath. “Cam,” I said, stressing the word, “I can’t ask you to put yourself in jeopardy.”

That made him laugh. “I may have overstressed my problems with the plan. We can make it work. However”—he held up one finger and turned those blue eyes on me in a way that told me he was serious—“I don’t want Ella knowing anything about this.”

“I wasn’t exactly expecting her to be involved.”

“I want to make sure she has no clue what’s going on. I don’t want to explain to her what a fake fiancé is or a fake stepmom. It isn’t fair to get her hopes up and then rip them away. I certainly don’t want to encourage her to lie. This needs to be kept between us.”

I nodded, holding his gaze as I did. “Okay.”

“I need a beer. Can I get you one?” he asked, jumping up from the couch in one smooth move.

“Yes, please.”

He returned with two bottles of beer, opening mine before handing it to me. I took a long drink, letting the cold liquid run down my throat and settle the nerves that felt all tingly whenever I was close to him.

When he took his seat on the couch, I noticed he was a little closer to me.

“Should we toast this fake engagement?” he said with a disarming grin.

I held up my bottle and waited for him to clink his against it. We both drank before I totally lost my shit and burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry,” I said, waving a hand in front of my face. “I don’t know why I’m laughing. This is serious business.”

He leaned his big body back against the leather couch. “Laugh. I like to watch you laugh.”

I turned to look at him behind me. There was an actual twinkle in his blue eyes. This was a very different man than the cop version of Cameron Campbell. This man was chill and gorgeous and didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

I flopped back on the couch, our shoulders brushing.

“Thank you. I know this is a huge sacrifice for you. Hopefully, we never have to talk about this engagement again.”

He shrugged the shoulder pressed against mine. “It’s not so bad.”

We sat in silence, drinking our beer. I set my empty bottle on the coffee table.

“Want another one?” he asked.

“I should probably go. You work in the morning?”

“It’s not so late. Besides, shouldn’t we celebrate our fake engagement? A guy doesn’t get fake engaged every day.” He grinned, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth.

I burst into silly laughter again before slapping my hand over my mouth. “Sorry. I forgot Ella was sleeping.”

“It’s okay. Her door’s shut.”

He got up and returned a minute later with two more beers.

“How’s your mom? She told me she was going to take Ella to the amusement park over the weekend.”

“She’s good, and they did. Ella is their pride and joy. They promise me they won’t spoil her, but they lie. That little girl is beyond spoiled.”

I smiled while listening to the way he talked about his family. His voice changed. It reminded me of warm honey. His usual voice was brusque and didn’t invite a person in. When he spoke of his family, you could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“Ella doesn’t act spoiled. She is kind and sweet and speaks so eloquently for a five-year-old,” I assured him.

I watched his chest puff up with pride.

“Come here,” he said in a gruff voice.

His arms snaked out, and he pulled me into his lap, jostling my beer. He took the bottle from me and leaned across me, setting both our bottles on the table before resting one hand on my thigh and the other on my back.

It was an intimate touch that sent heat spiraling through me.

“This could be fun.” His gravelly voice felt like fingertips rolling down my back.

“This?” I asked in a whisper.

“Me, you, a fake engagement—a reason to spend time together.”

He leaned forward to nuzzle my neck. I dropped my head to the side, exposing more skin for him to suckle. His hand moved over my thigh, rubbing and caressing.

“I could get used to that,” I murmured, feeling gooseflesh spread over my body under the touch of his lips.

He moved his hand down my back and slid it under my shirt before moving back up my spine and unclasping my bra.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he growled, his gentle touch increasing in intensity as his hand moved from my thigh to my breasts.

I put my head back, giving the man full access to my body. It was his to do with as he pleased.