The Thing About Trouble Read online

  Blue stood there with an empty glass in her hand. For a few seconds, the two of them stared at each other in silence. Gradually, Cam became aware that his heart was beating hard against his chest and a guilty flush crept up his skin. Had she heard his conversation?

  “Hey,” she said softly. “I just wanted a refill and to see if you need any help.” She headed for his fridge and grabbed the Brita before pouring herself another tall glass. Blue nodded toward the tray of steaks and the pan of potatoes ready to roast. “You’ve got hidden talents, Booker. Who knew?”

  “Everyone’s got stuff to hide.”

  “That’s the trouble, though, isn’t it? Some things should stay hidden.” She paused. “The brie is lovely, but you better come and get some before it hardens.”

  With that, she headed out once more, and Cam exhaled and followed in her footsteps. He tried not to notice the gentle sway of her hips as she walked. Or the way her hair rippled down her back and danced in the breeze. Her skin was like alabaster, smooth and white and soft. She was like a Nordic goddess.

  Nordic goddess?

  Cam made a face and opened the barbecue. Now he was spouting shit that belonged in one of those damned romance novels Mrs. Eddy had stashed all over her house.

  He had no interest in Blue other than what a normal, healthy, red-blooded American male would have. A physical reaction to a beautiful woman. That was it, nothing more. Besides, his mother was right about one thing. The Barnes family was a complicated mess, and Blue was at the center of a storm, something Cam had already witnessed. He thought about Edward and his threats. About his filthy mouth. Things would get ugly.

  He turned and watched Blue. She was a tough woman. He sensed that. She could look after herself. At least he hoped so.

  In the end, Cam pushed all thoughts of Blue and her family and that sexy-as-hell mouth aside. He grilled their steaks to perfection, as well as the vegetables and potatoes. Blue volunteered to toss the salad, and the four of them sat down to eat.

  This time when he asked Blue if she wanted a glass of wine, she said yes. He obliged and sat back as the power of food and the connection it created took hold. Mrs. Eddy and Blue got on well. The conversation was lively and animated, and little Tawny ate it up. In that moment, he realized how lonely his life had become, which was weird because up until now, he’d been perfectly happy with just him and Rufus and the occasional overnight visitor of the female kind.

  He hadn’t been this relaxed or entertained anyone other than the guys in a good long while—and they were happy with cold pizza and beer. Blue had a sense of humor and a sharp mind, and he enjoyed the meal more than he thought he would. He enjoyed her more than he thought he would.

  Maybe, he thought, just a little too much.

  10

  August gave way to September, and on the Wednesday before the Labor Day long weekend, Cam and his men finished the job in Blue’s backyard. It was hers to enjoy. No more noise, banging of hammers, or the buzzing of a saw. No more men’s voices on the wind or laughter at off-color jokes. No more Rufus running around or Tawny at her door.

  No more Cam.

  They’d formed some sort of relationship over the last few weeks. What it was, she couldn’t define. They weren’t exactly friends, and she sure as hell knew he wasn’t interested in her in that way. He’d made that more than clear. Even now, weeks later, her cheeks burned when she remembered his mother’s words and Cam’s declaration that she was the last woman in Crystal Lake he’d ever get involved with.

  She knew what folks thought of her, and it hurt. Of course, it hurt. Her skin would have to be inches thick for it not to. She was lucky to have met Poppy, who enjoyed her company just fine, and for now, it was enough.

  But with Cam, there was something more. He wasn’t just the guy working in her backyard. After the Sunday night dinner at his place, there was a sort of respect or maybe a kinship, because she and Cam were more alike than either of them realized. There was pain there. She sensed it. Most likely because it was a reflection of the darkness inside her.

  She applied lip gloss and stared into the mirror. Whatever it was, whatever it had been, was over, and she would miss him.

  “God, Blue, give it up.”

  And now she was talking to herself. She stuck out her tongue at the image in the mirror, tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, and gave her outfit a once-over. Faded, soft jeans, silky black off-the-shoulder blouse, and black Manolo flats. She grabbed a small cream-colored bag off the counter in her dressing room, retrieved her cell, and scrolled through her messages, which weren’t many, but there was only one she was looking for.

  I’m here. You’re not. I see nothing has changed.

  She grinned at the sight of one smiley emoji and a heart emoji. Who knew the guy had it in him? She texted back that she was leaving and would see him in twenty minutes, and with light steps ran downstairs and hopped into her Honda. The humidity had broken, and the early evening air was crisp with a hint of fall.

  Blue cranked the radio and sang along to every song that played, even the ones she didn’t know the words to. Those she made up. When she pulled into the parking lot of The Brig, AC/DC was blasting, and that earned more than a couple or double takes as she parked her car in a lot that was full, even for a Saturday night. She supposed it was because it was the long weekend and folks were celebrating the end of summer. She, on the other hand, had something else entirely to celebrate.

  The Brig was, in fact, the old mill. It had been boarded up for years and was about to be torn down to make way for office buildings when an anonymous benefactor saved it. There were whispers that the Blackwells were involved, a local family with generational ties to the area. Whatever the case, the old building had undergone massive renovations and was now a gorgeous restaurant perched on the river that ran through town and fed into the lake. It was more of an upscale eatery and didn’t compete with establishments like the Coach House. Blue slid from her car and chuckled. The old Honda looked severely out of place tucked between a silver Benz and a big black Escalade. She didn’t bother locking her car because, really, who would ever take the old thing?

  The restaurant was busy, and it took a few moments before the hostess came over. On the young side, with big green eyes and deep red hair, she smiled and indicated that Blue should follow. With a soft frown, she did, aware that several pairs of eyes were on her. She recognized a few faces from some of the committees she served on or fundraisers she’d attended with David. None of them were particularly friendly, though they didn’t bother to hide their interest. A few, like Marnie Edwards, a lovely older lady who was at dinner with her husband, smiled as she passed by, and that was enough.

  They wove their way through the crowded restaurant and to the stairs that led to the upper level. Here the space opened up to a large patio overlooking the river, and it was beautifully done. Exposed brick gave the place charm, with crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling and white mini lights and ivy adorning the massive pergola overhead. Exotic ferns and trees in large planters, and fragrant flowers in baskets completed the look. There was a bar, a large fire pit surrounded by sofas and palms trees, and at least twenty-five tables.

  She spotted her brother immediately.

  Cash Bodine was as dark as she was fair, with thick espresso-colored hair that hung to his shoulders, and several days’ growth of beard adorning his square jaw. He was tall, athletic, well built, and didn’t need the denim and leather to make him look dangerous. It was the kind of danger the ladies liked. Blue glanced around and shook her head wryly. Some things never changed. Most of the women snuck glances his way, wondering who he was, and who he was waiting for. And the single ladies wondered if they stood a chance.

  He glanced up just then, and his dark, brooding features broke wide open into the kind of smile that melted her heart. Emotion came at Blue, fast and hard, and she barely kept the tears away as she headed toward him and was immediately enveloped in a big hug. It had been way too lo
ng.

  “I’ve missed you,” she whispered once he let her go.

  Warmth made his eyes darken, and he squeezed her shoulder. “Let’s grab our table.”

  The hostess had been standing by and, with two menus in hand, led them to a table near the water. Cash smiled at the girl, and she blushed as she slowly backed away. Her brother perused the menu, and Blue studied him over the top of hers. He looked so much like their father, it was like looking at a ghost. Except this version had made sacrifices for her that her father never would have. He was the best brother a girl could have and she was forever grateful.

  He went to prison because of her and had refused to see Blue when she’d gone to visit. Eventually, she stopped going because he’d told her he’d never do a face-to-face inside. He’d been released over a year ago, and this was the first time he’d reached out in person.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered, not knowing she’d uttered the words aloud until Cash met her gaze.

  He slowly nodded. “Yeah.” The siblings stared at each other for several long moments, each lost in a host of memories, images of another time and place. They’d lived through a lot, the two of them, and she was sure his heart and soul were as scarred as hers.

  That was the thing about invisible scars. They sliced into skin and bone, burying themselves so deeply that the pain was a constant reminder of the very thing that put them there.

  “I’m sorry about David.”

  Her smile faltered at his words. “Thank you. He was…” She bit her lip and then exhaled. “He was the best sort of person. I wish you had met him.”

  Cash was silent for a few moments, though a muscle worked its way across his jaw, and his eyes narrowed. “He looked after you when I couldn’t.” There was no bitterness to the words, though Blue sensed the underlying anger inside her brother. His life had nearly been destroyed, and though he would never say the words to her face…it was her fault.

  Guilt made her avert her eyes. It made the lump in her throat larger.

  “Cash,” she whispered.

  “No.”

  She jerked her head up.

  “We’re not going back there, Blue. You and I, we’ve given the past too much power. It’s time to move on. To dig ourselves out of the shithole we landed in. That’s something I’m working on.” He cracked a smile, though it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m glad to see you have too. You’ve done well. I’m real proud of you. Let’s just concentrate on that.”

  The waitress brought them a bottle of red wine, and they ordered their meals. Blue sat back in her chair and toyed with her napkin, her mind asking the questions she’d carried for the last twelve months or so.

  “Where have you been?” she finally asked, watching Cash carefully.

  He offered a toasted pita topped with hot spinach dip. She accepted it and waited for him to answer.

  “I had some business to take care of in Vegas, and now I’m figuring things out.” He flashed a smile. “Thought I’d take a few months off and road trip to clear my head.”

  She toyed with napkin, stomach twisted up. “Did you go to Florida?”

  “No.” His answer was crisp. “Like I said, Bluebell. Not going back there. Dad can rot for all I care, and Mom’s no better. Last I heard, she’s still in Louisiana with Pete. The two deserve each other.”

  Blue couldn’t deny anything her brother had just said. All of it was true. Their father had walked out on them without so much as a goodbye, and their mother was never going to win any mom of the year awards. She cared more about men and money than her children. And she’d gone through them like water in rapid succession. Marrying and divorcing and then marrying again when Blue was fifteen. Her third husband, Pete Wentworth, was a congressman who came from old money and had an eye on the senate. She’d finally found her golden goose, and she’d do anything to protect the life she’d carved out for herself, even if that meant cutting her children out of it.

  “Hey,” Cash said quietly. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “I am. Please tell me you’ll stay for a few weeks? A month maybe?” She didn’t want to sound desperate, but she was lonely, and the quiet was heavy.

  “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll stay as long as I can.”

  The waitress appeared with their entrées—Cash’s steak and Blue’s salmon. They tucked into their meal and made small talk. The kind that didn’t dig deep into anything, really, but the kind that entertained and passed the time.

  Blue told Cash about the work she’d had done in her backyard, and he told her about the 1969 Shovelhead he’d been touring the country with. She told him about her job at Poppy’s boutique, and he told her he’d hauled lobster off the Cape for a few weeks.

  “I have a cat,” she said, reaching for her wineglass.

  “You hate cats.”

  “I don’t hate cats.”

  Cash’s eyebrows rose comically. “Remember the orange-and-white bag of fleas I brought home when you were like, six? You cried for two straight hours because you were scared shitless of the damn thing. Mom found out I had her in my bedroom, and that was the last of Ginger the cat.”

  Blue tried not to laugh. “The cat had fleas and pus oozing out of its eyes, and it hissed every time I came near it.”

  “That’s because cats are really good at figuring out shit. They know who’s a friend and who’s an enemy.” Cash pointed his fork and chuckled. “You were the enemy.”

  “Whatever.” She smiled. “Giselle is lovely, and she meant a lot to David, so she means a lot to me.”

  “Are you happy?”

  The question came at her with no warning, and she stumbled over an answer.

  “Am I…happy? What kind of question is that?”

  “A pretty direct one.” Cash sat back in his chair and pushed his plate away. He tossed his napkin and waited.

  “I’m…” Blue searched for the right thing to say. There was no point in lying to Cash. He’d figure that out before the words were out of her mouth. “I’m content.”

  “That’s it? You’re content?”

  Her skin was itchy, like it was pulled thin, and she frowned. “Not everyone gets the white picket fence with a husband, two point five kids, the dog and cat.” She shook her head. “A lot of people don’t even get close to content. I’m there. If I don’t get to the next level, I’m okay with that considering what’s in my rearview mirror.”

  “Seems to me you should be able to jump up a few levels if you try.” His voice softened. “I never met David, and I know he had some years on you just like I know you loved him. But he’s gone, Blue. And if he’s the guy I think he was, he wouldn’t want you wallowing or stuck in a place that only brings you contentment. He’d want you to meet someone. He’d want you to level up to happy.”

  That ache inside her, the one that was attached to her heart and soul, woke up, and she winced as it took hold and squeezed hard. “You don’t understand, Cash. In this town, I’m known as the notorious widow Barnes, and not in a glamorous or exotic way. The men are either intimidated by me or they’re only looking for the one thing I have no intention of giving. I’m not into one-night stands.”

  Her eyes widened and her voice trailed off as she spied a couple near the bar. They were deep in conversation, and when the man smiled down at something the woman said, Blue’s heart tripped over itself, and she clutched at her napkin so tightly, her knuckles whitened. He lowered his head and whispered something, and the woman, a beautiful brunette with big blue eyes and a wide smile, laughed loud enough that several patrons glanced their way. The hostess tapped him on the arm and they disappeared around the corner.

  Only then was Blue able to breathe. She was shocked to note her hands were shaking.

  “You’re telling me in the year since David passed, you haven’t met anyone that yanks your chain?”

  She averted her eyes. “That’s right. I haven’t met anyone who interests me.”

  Liar.

  “You’r
e full of shit.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she began hotly, only to be interrupted by her infuriating brother.

  “Who was that?” Cash asked.

  “Who?”

  “The guy you were eye-fucking.”

  Shocked, she whipped her head back and glared at her brother. “You did not just say that to me.”

  Cash was relentless. “Who is he?”

  She cleared her throat and reached for her wineglass, but it was empty. Seriously? “He’s a local. Did some work for me. That’s it. Nothing more.”

  “Does this local have a name?”

  A pause. “Cam Booker.”

  “Huh.” Cash filled her wineglass and winked. “I love it when I’m right.”

  “What are you right about?” Annoyed, she glared at her brother.

  He raised his own and winked. “You are full of shit.”

  11

  Cam was in a cranky mood.

  If he were being honest with himself, he’d admit to the fact he’d been cranky since about nine o’clock the previous evening, when he spotted Blue and a man at The Brig. Which made no sense considering he was there on a date, and Blue had every right to be there with whoever the hell it was she’d been with. They had no claims on each other. He was still pretty sure she didn’t like him all that much. At least, not in that way.

  And yet there’d been a moment when he’d felt something, and he’d been pretty damn sure she’d felt it too. But when he’d shown up for work the Monday after dinner at his place, she’d given no indication they were anything other than employer and employee. They settled into a comfortable sort of work relationship, and he realized he’d misread things. He’d been okay with that because he and Blue would never work.

  Until last night.

  Until he saw her laughing with the guy. Hugging the guy. Talking so close, they had to be more than friends.

  He’d gotten through dinner and had gone back to Pia’s house with the sole intention of using sex to obliterate everything from his mind. A new waitress at the Coach House, she’d sparked his interest with her big laugh when he’d stopped in for take out a few nights back. The old Cam would have had no problem with it getting right to the sex thing. He’d have given Pia what she wanted, a couple of times at least, maybe spent the night, and then headed home with a smile on his face.