There was some truly hideous red-and-black-flocked wallpaper, but the space was huge and boasted windows on both walls. At the moment, the drapes were drawn as if Cam didn’t want anyone else to have to see that wallpaper.
A huge reclaimed pine table sat in the center of the room and had ten chairs pulled up to it. The light fixture over the table was brass, with long arms and clear glass light globes attached to the
ends.
Architect renderings and blueprints were scattered across the table, and Beth had to wonder why he needed her. At a glance she saw he had the layout of the cabins well planned.
“It looks like you’ve already got things set,” she said, and took a closer look at the first sketch of a would-be cabin.
“They’re bare-bones and—no offense to the LA architect—pretty cookie-cutter.” He sighed. “I had these drawn up a year ago.”
Surprise flickered through her. She shifted her gaze to him. “You’ve been planning to come back for a while, then.”
He nodded. “It’s been on my mind for a few years now. Having these done made it seem more real. Immediate. Most of the new developments out in California look like they’ve been stamped out on an assembly line, so that’s what they design.”
She half-laughed. “You really didn’t like California.”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “It’s really not that bad. Its main problem for me was that it wasn’t Texas. I wanted to be here. Now that I am, I want something different. I want the cabins to look like they belong there. A part of the ranch itself.”
“Yeah, you said that.” Idly Beth picked up a pencil and sketched a porch on one of the cabin drawings, then added window boxes and rockers on the porch. She had never been much of an artist, but it didn’t look too bad to her eye. “Better?”
“Yes.” He smiled at her, and her breath caught.
She didn’t want to feel for him. Didn’t want to be drawn to him. But it seemed what she wanted and what was happening were two separate things.
“You can make each cabin different by adding little finishes or even by differing the structures themselves. Arched doorways, painted different colors.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Log cabins, Victorians, bungalows, hobbit houses. Give them each a personality.”
“You’re good at this,” he mused.
His voice was too soft. He was standing too close. He smelled too good. Beth had come here riding on fury, but that had passed, leaving her feeling hollowed out. She still didn’t have answers, but what she did have, as always, was this driving need for Camden Guthrie.
“I should go,” she said.
“Don’t.”
Looking up into his eyes, she fought with herself internally. Beth knew she should leave, but her feet wouldn’t move. She knew that if she stayed, nothing would be resolved. It was more likely the problems and mistrust between them would only grow. Sex wasn’t in itself an answer and often just led to muddying things up even more.
“You’re looking at me like you’re trying to solve a mystery.”
“Maybe I am,” she admitted.
“It’s just not that complicated, Beth.”
“Please.” She shook her head and nearly smiled. “You’ve always been complicated, Camden.”
“There you’re wrong,” he said, moving in a little closer so that she couldn’t breathe without taking his scent inside her. “When it came to you, I wasn’t complicated at all.”
She sighed, still trying to stop what was inevitably crashing toward her. “Until you left with another woman.”
“You don’t understand, Beth,” he said. “Any of it.”
“Then explain it to me. After all these years, tell me.”
He frowned. “We open this door—there’s no going back.”
“Maybe there shouldn’t be,” Beth said, even knowing that what she might hear could tear her heart to pieces. “We keep twisting the doorknob, but we never open it. Never look. Isn’t it better to know the truth?”
He studied her, and emotions darted across the surface of his eyes so quickly she couldn’t have named them all.