The Thing About Trouble Read online

  Edward swore under his breath. “Bitch changed the code, and I can’t get in.”

  Cam had to work to keep his cool. “Last I heard, you don’t live here.” He wasn’t exactly a fan of Bluebell Barnes, but at the moment, she was his employer, and he wasn’t going to let someone like this douchebag talk shit about her.

  Edward made a face and glared at him with a sneer. “She’s spreading her legs for you now, I guess.”

  Cam clenched his hands together. The guy had just crossed a line. “You need to leave.”

  “She’s nothing but a whore. Trapped my father and took all this from me.”

  “I’m not going to say it again, Barnes. You should leave.”

  But the man was on a roll, and spittle formed at the corners of his mouth as he rattled on, his words carried by anger and something else. Something darker. “She’s easy on the eyes. No denying that. But she ruins everything she touches, and if I have my way, she’ll—”

  Cam had had enough. He took a step forward, and instantly, Rufus growled, the hair along his back standing on end.

  Dave appeared from nowhere, his tone even, but he was swinging a hammer and his smile was steely. “You got a problem, boss?” he asked, not taking his eyes off Edward.

  “Nope.” Cam stood back, his chest flush with an anger that made it hard to talk. “Barnes was just leaving.”

  Edward glared at both of them for several long moments. With one last look of disgust, he spit into the ground. “You see her, tell her she needs to return my phone calls or there’ll be trouble.”

  “What the hell was that about?” Dave tossed the hammer onto one of the work benches as Edward disappeared around the house.

  “Nothing I want any part of,” Cam replied.

  “You good?” Dave asked.

  “Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m good.” He let his anger subside and decided to put Edward Barnes along with his “stepmother” out of his mind. The sooner he got this job done, the better, because he had a feeling things were about to go south where those two were concerned. No way was he getting caught in the middle of whatever the hell they had going on.

  He had enough on his plate. Cam scooped up his lunch bag and joined his crew, but as he bit into his ham and cheese sandwich, he glanced at the house, and even though he’d just told himself to forget all about her, he wondered…

  Where in hell had the widow Barnes been all week?

  6

  “Blue, you’ve been a lifesaver this week.” Poppy flipped the Open sign to Closed and turned around with a big smile. “I swear, without you, I’d have had to close up shop.”

  Blue looked up from the table where she was folding beautiful handwoven blankets and smiled. “It was no problem, really.”

  Poppy had had to deal with a family issue, something to do with her grandmother, and her other part-time employee had come down with a nasty virus that kept her home all week.

  “Well, I appreciate it. I know you only signed on for two half days, and you’ve been here every single day since Tuesday. It was a lot to ask. You need to let me make it up to you.”

  “Really. It’s not necessary. Honestly, it’s not like I had…” Anything else to do considering I don’t have a life. “Well, I didn’t have much on this week.”

  Poppy grabbed her purse from behind the counter. “Do you have plans tonight?”

  Blue busied herself with the blankets once more. Plans? The only plan she had was a movie, some popcorn, and snuggles with Giselle.

  “I’m going to have a quiet night, I think,” she said, moving from the blankets and accepting her small clutch from Poppy.

  “Come on,” Poppy said in disbelief. “It’s Saturday night. I have a friend visiting from LA, and we’re going out. Come with us.”

  Blue offered a small smile. “Thanks for the offer, but I have stuff to do.”

  “Like what? You just said you were having a quiet night.” Poppy’s eyebrows shot up dramatically, and she cocked her head. The expression on her face told Blue she wasn’t letting this go. “What’s so important you have to stay in on a Saturday night when you could spend come out with me and have fun?”

  “I…” Blue scrambled for something. “My cat has been alone all week, and she’s not used to it so…” Lame excuse, and Blue felt her cheeks go hot. “I don’t want her scratching the baseboards again or conveniently forgetting where the litterbox is.”

  “Your cat sounds savage.” Poppy laughed.

  Poppy led the way out of her store, and Blue waited while she locked up. They’d both parked in the public lot down the street and walked there together. It was a beautiful night, and the boardwalk was busy with young families and couples strolling hand in hand. Just ahead of Blue, a young man stopped and kissed the woman he was with. It was a passionate embrace, and the air practically sizzled around them. He held her as if she were everything, his long hands sunk into her hair as he pulled her closer. Blue couldn’t tear her eyes away.

  She’d never felt like that before. Never had that strong of a connection. Hell, she didn’t even like sex all that much. Seemed to her it was all about the guy. She’d loved David, though she knew most folks in these parts would never believe that. But he’d been comfort and home, and his gentle touch soothed her soul in a way she needed. He’d saved her from a life that would have destroyed her, and for that, she would always be grateful. A wave of loneliness washed over Blue, and she looked away from the couple, hating the pang of melancholy that accompanied it.

  “Here we are,” Poppy said as they approached their vehicles. She unlocked her car and tossed her purse inside. “Look. I’ve got some info that I’m not supposed to share.”

  Intrigued, Blue waited expectantly.

  “Cain Black and his band are going to play new material for their next album.” Poppy’s eyes went wide. “Tonight.”

  Cain Black was a local celebrity, a rock star who lived in Crystal Lake when he wasn’t touring the world with his band, BlackRock. He was a younger version of Springsteen with a dash of Led Zeppelin thrown in. It had taken everything in Blue, not to lose it completely, when she’d met him at a charity event a few months after she’d moved to Crystal Lake.

  “You should come.” Poppy slid into her car. “Meet some new people. You can’t spend all of your time holed up in that big old house on the water.”

  About two days into her new job, it had become obvious that Poppy knew exactly who Blue was. She’d never asked Blue why she’d applied for a job she obviously didn’t need, and Blue never offered up an explanation. But Poppy was easy to be around. She was warm and nonjudgmental. She was quick to laugh and always looked to the bright side. In these few days, she’d come to mean something to Blue.

  “Won’t it be hard to get in?” Blue found herself asking.

  “Nope.” Poppy shook her head. “I have a table reserved. I’ll be there around eight and will let the bouncer know you might be joining us. Just give him your name, and he’ll let you in.” She winked and laughed. “Think about it. Cain Black or your cat. That right there is a tough decision.” Poppy gave a quick wave and drove off, leaving Blue to contemplate her words as she drove home.

  The work crew had left, and the place was silent. No sign of Cam or any of his guys. But then Blue was pretty sure a man who looked like Cam would be busy on a Saturday night. She parked her car and headed inside, and for a few moments looked around the huge place she called home. The décor was tasteful. The furnishings comfortable. No expense had been spared. Everything a person could want was inside these walls. Everything except love.

  That heaviness she’d felt earlier laced across her chest, and she strode into the kitchen doing her best to push it aside. Contrary to what she’d told Poppy, the damn cat was sprawled in front of the patio doors, fast asleep, purring so loud it was a wonder the noise didn’t wake her up.

  Blue topped up Giselle’s food and water and headed upstairs. She undressed and jumped into the shower. Twenty minutes later, she sat down
on the small settee in her closet, taking in all the clothes that hung from the customized racks. Gucci. Fendi. Tom Ford. A lot of them still had tags attached, and she felt shame as she gazed at the dresses, blouses, and pants. None of them gave her pleasure or made her happy.

  How did she get here? Ever since she’d left home she’d craved stability. She’d dreamed of being rich and having enough money so that she never had to worry about a paycheck or food or a car payment. For so long, she’d thought this was what she needed to be happy. So why wasn’t she?

  Blue wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but her neck was stiff when she got up and she walked to the smaller cupboard that held the clothes she’d refused to part with. She reached inside and grabbed a pair of faded jeans and a white T-shirt with Guns N’ Roses across the chest. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and stilled. Her long hair hung in loose, damp waves, and her fresh-scrubbed skin glowed. She let her robe drop to the floor and stood back so that she could see herself properly.

  Her fingers traced the long thin scar that sat low above her pelvic bone, and the faded stretch marks. When she glanced back up, the expression in her eyes was enough to break her heart all over again. With a curse, she turned and defiantly began to get dressed. Pink bra and matching undies. The soft jeans that fit like a glove and the T-shirt that was just a tad too tight across the chest. She slipped her feet into plain black flip-flops, tousled her hair, and then applied a bit of mascara and some lip gloss.

  The silence of her home was a weight that had become too much, and she was tired of thinking. Tired of inaction. Tired of this life she’d made for herself.

  Before she could change her mind, Blue scooped up her wallet and shoved it in a small black bag. She headed outside and in the distance spied the lingering fingers of what had most likely been a spectacular sunset. It was nearly nine o’clock, and overhead, the night sky was waking up with a shimmery display of stars. She heard waves rushing onto the beach as a motorboat echoed across the water out back. Crickets sang their night song, and the lonesome hoot of an owl cut through the night. Twilight had always been her favorite time of day, and with renewed energy, she hopped into her car and headed back to town.

  Once in the heart of Crystal Lake, Blue realized she had no idea where the Coach House was. She stopped and asked for directions and at nine thirty pulled into a very full and busy parking lot. The place was across the bridge, a large building surrounded on three sides by forest. The lot was well lit, and there were several groups chilling near their vehicles, listening to BlackRock and tailgating. She sat in her Honda for a few minutes, eyes on the huge line to get into the venue, and jumped when her phone pinged. It was Poppy.

  Get here now.

  Blue stared at the message for a few seconds and then, before she could change her mind, got out of the car. She ignored the catcalls from a group of men hanging off the back end of a rusted-out truck, and also the looks from the folks in line as she walked past them. A large, balding man stood between her and the entrance, his tattooed arms folded across his chest. He eyed her up, his expression ominous. This wasn’t a man to be messed with.

  “Hi,” Blue said softly. “I’m…my name is on the list. Poppy said she’d let you know?”

  He slowly nodded. “Name?”

  “Blue.”

  “Okay.” He stepped aside, and that was that. She walked past the mountain of muscle and pushed her way inside. It was hot and humid inside the bar. The air practically sizzled with an energy that was unmistakable. A DJ played country rock while the darkened stage beckoned. Throngs of folks stood and chatted animatedly, and the crush of patrons leading to the bar was impressive.

  Blue was jostled a bit and twisted her way through the crowd, aware that she was drawing looks. A few men smiled her way, but she avoided eye contact, keen on the fact that the women they were with weren’t as appreciative.

  A server armed with a tray of empty glasses passed her way, and Blue took a chance and asked if she knew where Poppy Fairbanks was sitting. The server nodded to her left, and Blue headed in that direction, smiling to herself. Only in a small town. She spied Poppy and her friend at a high table near the stage, at about the same time excitement rippled through the crowd. Poppy gave her a big hug as she reached the table and then introduced her friend from Los Angeles, Kylie. She was dark and exotic, with multiple tattoos. An edgy brunette dressed in skintight leather, a hot-pink halter top that left nothing to the imagination. The woman had a warm smile and a confidence that made her easy to like.

  They didn’t have a chance to talk because just as Blue slid onto her chair, Cain Black walked onto the stage. Poppy and Kylie jumped to their feet and dragged Blue onto the dance floor. And for the next two hours, the three women did nothing but soak up the music and the atmosphere and the amazing charisma oozing from the stage. Blue felt like a teenager, gazing up at a man who’d starred in a lot of her adolescent fantasies.

  By the time they finished, Cain Black had every single person in the Coach House nestled in the palm of his hand. He flashed a wicked smile, his handsome face open and easy, and then jumped offstage to scoop a redhead into his arms—his wife, Maggie, according to Poppy. The DJ took over, and the three girls headed back to their table. They’d danced most of the night, and Blue couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun.

  “Okay,” Kylie said, sitting back in her seat. “That was worth the trip from LA.”

  Blue sat down and sipped the last of her beer. She was more of a Pinot Grigio kind of gal, but the wine list at the Coach House was limited. The place was packed, and she let her gaze wander the crowd before sneaking a look at her watch.

  “You’re not leaving,” Poppy said. “The night isn’t over yet.”

  Their waitress, Marissa, dropped another jug of draft on their table. “Compliments of the men behind you.”

  Blue glanced over her shoulder and spied three guys looking their way. She didn’t recognize them, but then again, she hardly knew anyone in town. One of them raised a glass in her direction and then headed their way. The other two followed, marching like ducks in a row.

  “About time.” Kylie chuckled. “I was starting to think the men in this joint were playing for the other team.”

  “Oh God.” Poppy groaned.

  “What?” Kylie asked, reaching for her glass. “Seriously, we’ve been here for hours, and this is the first time someone’s bought us a drink. What gives? If this were LA, there’d be a line from our table to the door.” At the look on Poppy’s face, Kylie giggled. “Okay. Maybe not to the door, but at least to the bar area.”

  “I dated the blond one, Mick.”

  “Really?” Kylie turned and so did Blue. The man was certainly handsome, but didn’t seem like Poppy’s type. Not that Blue knew what her type was exactly. She just figured the mammoth jock wasn’t it.

  “Yep. In grade five.”

  Blue and Kylie chuckled at the look on Poppy’s face as she muttered, “He hasn’t changed at all.”

  “He can’t be that bad.” Kylie eyed him up again.

  “Oh yes, he can. He came into my store a few months ago and asked me out.” She paused dramatically. “To the hog races.”

  “Wait. What?” Blue laughed. “Hog races?”

  “Don’t ask.” Poppy grimaced.

  “Geez. I’m not in LA anymore, that’s for sure.” Kylie shook her head.

  “You ladies mind if we join you?” Mick grinned down at them.

  Kylie winked, leaned toward the girls, and whispered, “He bought us a jug of beer, so let’s be nice.” She turned with a smile. “Cheers.” She held up her glass, and they all took a sip. But then her smile faded and her eyes widened. “Holy hell.” Kylie pointed. “Who is that?”

  A man stood near the bar. He wore a plain black T-shirt spread tight over sculpted muscles, and faded jeans that cupped his ass like no one’s business. He was chatting up the waitress, and there was no mistaking that profile. For some reason, Blue’s heart b
egan to thud, and because she didn’t know the reason, she became flustered.

  And yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Of course, Cam Booker would be here.

  The waitress stared up at him as if he was the hottest man on the planet. Her chest was thrust forward, and she bit her lip in that coy, unmistakable way that screamed, I want you. It said I want to get down and dirty and have sex with you. During her stint in Vegas, Blue had seen the same look. A lot. Usually from women trolling for sugar daddies.

  Blue studied Cam closely, her heart still thudding like a hammer in her chest. He smiled down at the woman, but his body language was casual. He might be looking to score, but he wasn’t all in with the waitress. Typical. He was biding his time in case something better came along.

  He turned, and their eyes locked and held. The waitress was still chattering away, and he nodded absently, though his focus was on Blue. Or maybe it was their table.

  “Who is that yummy piece of man-meat?” Kylie asked again, a low growl making her words husky in a way that screamed sex.

  “Jesus, here we go,” Mick muttered, though no one paid him any mind.

  Poppy turned to Kylie. “That, my friend, is Cam Booker, and he’s currently working for Blue.”

  Blue dragged her eyes from Cam and felt like an idiot when everyone looked her way. “Yes,” she managed to say. “He’s doing some landscaping.”

  “Lucky you,” Kylie said with a twinkle in her eye. “Is he single?”

  “I don’t know,” Blue replied at the same time Poppy said, “One hundred percent.”

  “I want him.” Kylie tousled her long hair.

  Poppy shook her head but looked resigned. “He’s not the kind you want to tangle with.”

  “Thank God,” she replied dramatically. “They’re always the most fun.” Kylie smiled wickedly licked her lips. “Here he comes.”

  Blue forced herself to look up, and everything inside her stilled. Cam Booker was definitely heading their way. But his eyes weren’t on Kylie.