She stared at him, her green eyes so much like his. “At least I’ve learned from my mistakes and face my life head-on versus running away from it all the time.”
Her words were like a physical blow. Nailing him in the chest with such force they took his breath away. His sister was right. He hadn’t changed, hadn’t grown up while everyone else had. Without another word, he left the house. The house he grew up in, the siblings he loved and abandoned when he graduated high school and never looked back.
Climbing into his beat-up Ford truck, he started the engine and tore out of there. He wasn’t fit for company, would tear off the head of anyone dumb enough to approach him. He’d go back and apologize later, even to Mac. Especially to Mac.
But for now, he wanted to be alone.
He blew through town and headed out to the lake road, taking the curves at breakneck speed. Ended up in the dusty gravel parking lot of The Tree. This time of afternoon only the hardcore locals were there, and not very many of them.
Perfect.
Storming into the bar, he found a small table in the back corner of the cavernous room and ordered a Jack and Coke from the hardened waitress. Anger still simmered just beneath his skin. Disappointment over Chloe’s seeming betrayal lingered deeper, making his tense muscles ache.
When the waitress brought his drink, he grabbed it from her, downed it with one gulp, and asked for another. “A double,” he added.
Giving him a skeptical glance, she turned without a word and brought his double minutes later, accompanied by a second one. “Just in case,” she said as she set them in front of him.
He nursed the second one, much like he nursed his anguished thoughts about Chloe. Damn it, he needed to end this. He was getting too close, falling for her, and when he did that sort of thing, he opened up. Became vulnerable.
And she stabbed him right in the heart, going straight to his sister who in turn blabbed to the rest of his family. When it came to ferreting out secrets, Jane was an expert. Big mistake for Chloe to whisper even a hint to her. Huge. Probably his parents knew now too and damn, he did not want to deal with his mom about this. She would flip.
He chugged the rest of his drink, blocking the image of his mother wanting to make sure he was all right. She hovered enough already.
Cam didn’t know how long he stayed in that dark corner of The Tree, but eventually the place started to fill up with a few just off the lake types and some just off work types, most of them male, though he spotted two women eyeing him from a few tables over.
He ignored them, more than a little drunk. Damn, he couldn’t drive home. Vargas would nail him for sure if he didn’t wreck going around a sharp corner first.
Cam frowned. Wrecking around sharp corners made him think of Chloe and that made him think of interrupted foreplay and warm, soft skin, quivery breaths and pink tongues and holy shit.
He broke out in a sweat, drained what was his fourth glass of Jack and Coke—or was it his fifth?—and wished she was with him. Right here, right now. So he could lose himself in her. Just once, just so he’d experience what it was like. Sex with Chloe.
And then he’d leave. Bail out on this town and her and his family because that’s what he did best. He didn’t do well under emotional pressure.
He snorted. That was an understatement.
Work pressure, sure, he could handle it. Mostly.
Hell.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, saw that the two women were now approaching, come-hither expressions on their overly made-up faces. Were they local? They sure didn’t look local.
“Hey sailor,” one of them said and he barely restrained himself from laughing at the lame pick-up line. “You look a little lonely.”
The other woman smiled at him, revealing a smudge of bright pink lipstick across her teeth. “Want some company?”
“I appreciate the offer but uh, I prefer to drink alone.” Damn, he wished he could call someone to get him out of here. His brother was off the list. So were his sisters. And hell if he would call Chloe; he was still mad at her.
Might take out all this passionate rage still simmering inside him on her the minute he saw her.
By attacking her.
“Aw, are you sure?” Lipstick Teeth asked, her overly pink lips formed into a glossy pout. “We’d love to buy you a drink.”
He bet they would. Get him stone cold drunk and then try to maul him. He knew the type. He’d encountered them before, might’ve indulged with a handful of them, too. Back in his I’m-a-callous-jackass-and-would-screw-anything-that-moves days.
Wait, he was still in those days. Right?
Not even close.