“Excuse me for butting in,” I say, laughing. “What on Earth brings you here, Mr. Hughes?”
“I saw your car and knew this was your family’s place. It’s driving me crazy hanging on to this check and I wanted to give it to you and not be responsible for it anymore.” He takes an envelope from his pocket and extends it to me. “Thank you again, Cam.”
I take the envelope, but he pulls me into an unexpected hug before I get my arm back. “You are a great friend,” he whispers in my ear. “And you’d be an even better one if you told me Joy doesn’t have a boyfriend. Not that I really give a shit, but I need to know which angle to come at it.”
Laughing, I pull back and shake my head. “Free,” I mouth, watching his eyes light up.
“Joy, do you have any plans for this evening?” he asks, jumping right to the point.
“No. And if I did, it would be nothing I can’t move around.”
He grins. She swoons. I can’t help but giggle.
“Would there be any chance we could hook up and grab some dinner or something?”
“I’d love that.”
I leave them standing by the yoga pants and make a beeline for Ellie as she comes back into the room. “I love watching love,” I sing-song.
“What did you do now?” she asks.
“I didn’t do anything. Fate just swung by and—voila! Dates are being made.”
“Nice,” Ellie giggles.
Nate says something and Joy throws her head back and laughs. His face is lit up like I’ve never seen it and it warms my heart for them both. They exchange numbers and Nate heads for the door, stopping short of leaving.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Ellie. Making my way across the store, he waits for me. “How’d that go?”
“Lord, she’s beautiful. And funny. We’re going to dinner at six.”
“She’ll love you.”
“Hey, take it easy,” he jokes. “I’m just looking for a lay.”
“You are not, asshole. You need a good girl to settle you down, and Joy might be the one to do it.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll see.”
“Yes, we will.” I toe at the rug. “So, how’s Dom today?”
“You haven’t heard from him?”
I look at the ground, my heart sinking with it. “He’s irritated with me. I’m irritated with him. I don’t think we’re in full-blown avoidance, but the communication isn’t flowing either.”
“I heard about Hannah,” he cringes.
“I hate her.”
“I won’t fuck her anymore, just for you.”
“You’re such a jerk,” I say, but can’t help but laugh. “But Dom?”
He shrugs. “He’s good. A little grouchy, but he usually is before a fight. And with that rib . . .”
“He shouldn’t be fighting, Nate.”
“I agree, but he’s going to regardless of what we say, so it’s always better just to support him and try to help him not get hurt.”
“Is that what you suggest I do? Just support him?”
“Always, Priss. Always.” He looks at his watch. “I gotta go. I have a few errands to run and then I take over for Liz at the bar. Need anything, call me.”
I watch him walk out and jog to his truck. As I watch him climb in, I take my phone out and type a quick text.
Me: I miss you.
Dom: Going into gym. Talk soon.
Dominic
“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?” I breathe in the steam radiating off the tea in the china cup in front of me.
“Chamomile.” Cam places another bag in a cup that matches mine, all dainty and painted in light pink flower petals, and then pours water on top. “It helps sore muscles, spasms, and inflammation.”
“So does whiskey,” I offer, taking a sip. It’s grassy and flowery and nothing I’ll hopefully ever drink again. “Not bad.”
“I don’t care whether you like it or not, I want you to drink it.”
She sits at the table across from me and watches me. I don’t know what to say, the weirdness between us from the whole Hannah and Barron bullshit still fresh and heavy. It’s stupid. I know it and she probably does too. If I was in this situation with anyone else, it would be so much easier. I’d just walk away.
Fact of the matter is that I’m in this situation with her, Camilla Landry, the woman that is the epitome of what they call a “catch.” She’s the catch of a lifetime, the best thing in the world you could possibly haul in. But then I look at the line I reeled her in with, the boat I’m captaining, and I have to consider that I’m a jackass for doing this to her.
“I can feel it healing me already,” I joke, needing to dissipate the stress in the room somehow.
She smiles proudly. “See? I fixed you.” She knows I’m kidding, but is playing along with the same need to stop the tension.
It’s been two days since the charity event. I don’t know why we aren’t communicating, but we aren’t. Part of it is this upcoming fight—both because she doesn’t want me to do it and because I’m focusing on it just to keep from getting hurt. It’s the nature of the sport.
“You’ll be interested to know,” I say, setting the teacup down, “that Nate called off seeing Chrissy tonight. And he told Hannah he was busy.”
“Really?”
“He’s been very . . . joyful,” I wink.
“Ah,” she squeals. “This makes me so happy!”
“She seems nice and I think Nate likes her. At least enough to want to see her again tomorrow night.”
“Did he tell you he paid me back?”
“Yeah,” I say, taking another sip of the tea. “Did you tell your brothers to fuck off?”
She grins, pulling her legs up on the chair. “I did, actually. I just sent them a group text and told them I had the money so they could stop being worried about me being scammed.”
I shake my head, my annoyance rising. “Maybe they’ll see us for what we are and not what they think we are.”
“I think you’re wrong about them.”
“Oh, really?” I laugh.
“Yeah, really. I talked to my mom about Paulina and Raquel.” She bites her lip to keep from smiling. “She said they were jealous.”
“Of course they were. Have you seen me?”
“Oh my God,” she laughs. “You sound like Lincoln.”
“Don’t do that to me.”
She laughs again.
“I’ve missed that,” I admit.
“What?”
“That sound. Your laugh,” I sigh. “Right now, you look carefree and happy. Like you used to.”
Naturally, the look falls from her face at the mention. Her feet go back to the floor and her forehead mars with evidence of how complicated things have gotten.
“What’s wrong between us, Dom?” She looks at her teacup, twirling it around on the table. “I hate this.”
“I hate this too. I hate it most because I’m the cause of your missing smile.”
She frowns, then catches herself and leans forward. “It’s not you, Dominic.”
“Really? What else is it?”
“It’s fighting. And Red,” she snarls, then grins so I know she’s not completely serious. “It’s my brothers and charity events and self-absorbed heirs that invite me to Paris.”
“I’m still busting his ass.”
She rolls her eyes. “I want things fixed. We have to figure out how to navigate all of this before it causes real problems.”
“Can we fix it at all? I mean, really, Cam. How much of this will just keep coming back over and over again because of who we are and what we do?”