St. Nacho's 4: The Book of Daniel Page 8

  “Evening, Cam.” Andy stuck his hand out. Cam rose and pulled him in for a hug.

  “Evening.” Cam nodded. Something passed between them—two guys on the job acknowledging the aftermath of tragedy rather than a simple greeting—the taciturn but sincere connection I’d gotten glimpses of from hanging around JT and Cam at the firehouse.

  There was no help for it; I invited them to join us.

  “Just for a minute,” Izzie said, glancing at Andy. “I want my guy all to myself for dinner.”

  Izzie was such a big, powerful woman, those words conjured the image of her devouring him. He gazed at her with rapt adoration, and despite my snobbery, I had to like them.

  Izzie got right to the point. “You need to see Minerva.”

  “I’ve seen her. She writes things on the sidewalk of my house when she thinks I’m not looking, then hides behind the trees.”

  “So she tells me.” Izzie grinned. “She can take a little getting used to.”

  Andy nudged her.

  I said, “I think she hates me.”

  “She doesn’t hate you.” Izzie picked up her drink. “She didn’t know you. And we all want to know what your intentions are toward St. Nacho’s.”

  “I don’t have any. I hadn’t even heard of St. Nacho’s before my brother wound up here.”

  Cam smiled. “Yasha loved it here from the beginning.”

  “You mean he loved JT.”

  “He loved both.”

  Izzie leaned forward. “Minerva floats some theory that St. Nacho’s is a seat of awesome cosmic power and she talks a lot about Native American folklore, but I think once you stop here, moving on doesn’t feel like such a great idea. St. Nacho’s wraps itself around you, and it doesn’t let go.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “It doesn’t seem to have the same effect on me, though.”

  “You did a lot of poking around when you first came here,” Izzie pointed out. She cocked her head to the side and watched me in a funny, dissecting way that made me feel both transparent and on fire at the same time. “You were doing market studies, reviewing traffic patterns and sales.”

  “That’s because my brother was looking to start a business here.”

  “But how are we to know it isn’t about buying up everything and putting in a big-box store?”

  “You have a big-box store just down the highway next to the community college. And for the record, I’m not in the big-box store business.”

  “I know that. Minerva can be a little protective. She’s taken it upon herself to be St. Nacho’s spiritual guardian.”

  “She has nothing to fear from me.”

  “That’s good to know. We’re awfully glad to have Yasha around, even though it’s not doing my ass any favors. That boy’s raspberry tarts call me out of a sound sleep. Add Miss Independence Pies to that, and I need my gym more than anyone else in town does.”

  “Mary Catherine is expanding into new markets, so Miss Independence taking on the second enterprise hasn’t been too much for St. Nacho’s even in this economy. That’s what I hoped when I was getting a feel for the place. Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t planning a hostile takeover of your little town.”

  By this time, the way Izzie studied me had started to get damned uncomfortable.

  “Most people who show up here take one look around and want to stay,” Cam said tightly.

  Minerva nodded. “I guess at first we assumed you’d feel the same way. Given your history, we figured you’d have big plans. Minerva didn’t believe you’d be satisfied with the status quo in a sleepy little town like ours.”

  The waiter put our pitcher of beer on the table between us and offered four glasses. Andy and Izzie declined the beer but didn’t leave.

  Izzie continued to look at me like I was a bomb she needed to defuse. “Plus, I can’t read you at all, which never, ever happens to me.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that. I’m sure it happens to everyone, sometimes.”

  “Not to me.”

  I was about to make some crack about psychic Viagra, when Cam handed me a beer and asked her, “What do you see when you look at me?”

  “Oh, darling, you are a sight for sore eyes. You’re sunny yellow even when it’s pouring rain, and your heart chakra is like an explosion of green palm fronds with pink tips.”

  Cam blushed. “Is that good?”

  “When have you ever not been good, you big fire muffin. Gimme some sugar.” Izzie rose and kissed him on the forehead. She was a little rough, but Cam was obviously pleased. “I’ll let you two get on with your dinner.”

  “Thanks.” Cam grinned up at her. “See you tomorrow at the gym.”

  “Sure, baby.” She turned back to me. “You missed your appointment with Jordan today, so he’ll be expecting you to call and reschedule. Maybe you should think about annual membership now that it looks like you’ll be staying around.”

  “Who said I’ll be staying around?”

  Beside me, I heard Cam’s intake of breath.

  Izzie’s tone cooled. She glanced from me to Cam and back again. “Why wouldn’t you?”

  It wasn’t enough that my mind went blank. My mouth hung open as I waited for something brilliant to occur to me. Three pairs of eyes watched me while I tried to come up with something both truthful and tactful.

  “I haven’t exactly planned that far ahead.”

  “I see.” Izzie’s lips thinned, but before she could say anything, Andy took her arm and tugged.

  “I can see we’ve interrupted your evening out. We’ll let you get back to it.” He led her away. I watched them go, wondering if I dared to look at Cam.

  When I finally turned to him he was sipping his beer. “Cam…” I began, but he forestalled me.

  “I know St. Nacho’s isn’t exactly your kind of place.” His expression was closed again; he might as well have been a stranger.

  “It’s not that. I don’t know what kind of a place is ‘my place’. I just don’t—”

  “It’s all right.” Cam sighed and reached over to put his hand on mine. I realized my right hand had been jerking, reflexively trying to squeeze my fork/knife/napkin setup. “Relax.”

  I let out the breath I was holding. “Thank you.”

  “Most people who come here want to stay. If that’s not the case with you, if you don’t see yourself here, it’s best for everyone if you move on.”

  “Are you telling me to go now? Before we start something?”

  Cam shrugged. “I’m just saying you shouldn’t feel you have to stay—not just because you like the people, or because your brother wants to live here. St. Nacho’s isn’t a place you settle for. It’s a place you choose.”

  I nodded. I understood, theoretically, how a man could come here and want to stay. I could see that Jake was growing roots here. That he was forming a new family—something he’d believed he’d never have. I knew how much it meant to him to finally have a place he could call home.

  But despite the undeniable beauty of St. Nacho’s, despite the peace and comfort it offered, it was something I couldn’t relate to. As soon as that sense of place stole over me I grew restless, almost achy, and I felt the need to get back on the highway.

  “I don’t know what I want,” I said carefully.

  Cam’s lips curved in a faint, rueful smile. “Then it makes sense to find out, doesn’t it?”

  I nodded.

  When the waiter brought us our food, we settled into a companionable silence. I managed to cut my carne asada—the marinated steak typically served with flour tortillas and the usual sides, beans, rice, pico de gallo and guacamole. One thing about Nacho’s bar: the spicy food was plentiful. Plus, they made the tortillas by hand and served them piping hot in baskets that kept them that way.

  A word from Cam and the waiter brought a fiery, hotter salsa with a smoky bite that was perfect for rolling up with the meat into delicious and filling soft tacos. Our second pitcher of beer was going straight to my fingers and toes, re
laxing each molecule along the way. I was content, but I could swear Cam glowed only half as brightly. Izzie would say his sunny yellow had lost its shimmer and that his pink-tipped palm fronds had grayed a little at the edges. Once again, my heart hurt to see a dimly lit Cam Rooney.

  “Next weekend I’m planning to meet my business partner, Al, and his family in Pismo. His girls are horse crazy, and I found a place where they can ride on the beach.”

  “Yeah?” Cam glanced up from his plate. “I ride horses.”

  “Do you have a day off? If you have Friday night and Saturday, we can make a big deal of it. I’ll find us a nice place to stay. If not, we can just head down for the day.”

  “I have Friday and Saturday off. I’d love to go.”

  “All right. We can head out Friday, and I’ll see if they can join us Saturday morning. Can you be ready to leave around noon?”

  Cam nodded. His eyes had taken on a faraway look from the moment I mentioned horses. It was possible the key to Cam’s heart was through the animal kingdom. I decided I had to investigate that; I’d start with the clue of the deluded firehouse cat.

  “Is there anything else you like to do? Golf? ATVs?”

  “Golf.” He laughed as though I’d made a joke. “Do I look like a golfer to you?”

  “I can’t golf anymore anyway.” I said, forgetting that I’d wanted to see him smile.

  “You will.” He was resolute. “I’m sure if you want to golf again, you’ll find a way.”

  I felt better than I had since dinner arrived. “Thanks Cam.”

  “For what?”

  “For being a nice guy. For being the kind of guy who always makes people around you feel better.” He smiled and took a sip of his beer, and I went for broke. “So…should I get two hotel rooms for Friday?”

  He shook his head. It was the minutest, most tentative no.

  “Are you sure?”

  Again, he signaled with a brief, embarrassed nod. “One hotel room is fine. One bed.” He glanced away. It was odd that it embarrassed him, considering we’d known each other for a while—we might even be considered friends—and I’d watched him get a blowjob from a stranger.

  He ate the last few bites of his taco in silence. Its filling oozed out onto his fingertips—salsa and sour cream—which he licked off without taking his gaze from mine. His blue eyes glowed like the heart of a flame as the tip of his pink tongue snaked out to swipe over his full lower lip. Fuck, he was hot.

  “I want to see if I can tie your dick in a knot with my tongue like a cherry stem.”

  “Shit.” Cam dropped his taco, which had somehow imploded, onto his plate. “I have to head to the station right after dinner because I’m working a double shift starting tonight. I promised one of the guys I’d come as soon as I ate.”

  I nodded. “Rain check?”

  “Hell yes.” Cam happily scooped the rest of his food up on chips. His demeanor had changed again. He’d gone from happy, to subdued, to happy again in the space of a meal, and ah, damn. I just needed that. I needed to see him smile.

  At least when I was irritating the shit out of Cam, he didn’t seem sad. I’d growled at him, taken potshots, treated him like a rube or whatever, and he’d given as good as he’d got from me. But ever since the fire he’d been vulnerable to even that, diminished somehow or damaged—- as fragile as my hand. I couldn’t stop myself from doing everything in my power to protect him.

  My gut argued caution. I told myself to watch out. I didn’t want to find myself tied back down to someone and inevitably worrying about what he was thinking or how he was feeling. I didn’t want to have to change my behavior at every turn based on what some guy thought of me.

  I had to tell myself that Cam wasn’t my dad, who was unstable and impossible to make happy, or my mom, whose happiness depended on my living a lie. He wasn’t Bree, who constantly required me to adjust to an ever-changing array of rules, rituals, and magical thinking.

  It occurred to me then what a chameleon I had turned out to be.

  Well. That bore looking into. No wonder I’d become an adept obfuscator.

  I frowned.

  Cam had apparently been watching me. “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” St. Nacho’s felt itchy again. It was closing in on me, I was sinking in it; it covered me like so much beach sand and swallowed me up. “Maybe I’ll head up to the office for the next few days. There are a million little things I know Al wishes I would see to, but he’s been trying to cut me some slack. It’s not fair to expect him to do everything without me.”

  That was deliberately vague. If I’d been talking to Bree, I’d have said I needed to go shopping. Shopping was something she never questioned.

  He wiped his hands on his napkin. “Okay.”

  “I think I need some time.”

  Cam nodded. What could he do? He’d demanded honesty, and I’d given it.

  After that I stopped wondering whether he was happy and started worrying about why I cared as much as I did.

  Cam continued to eat, and I continued to worry, and after we’d paid we walked together to the parking lot.

  I turned to him. “I guess I’ll see you next Friday?”

  “Sure,” he regarded me thoughtfully.

  I opened the door to my car, but Cam closed the distance that separated us, stopping me by grabbing the center of my shirt, buttons and all in his fist, and pulling me back around.

  “I think you forgot something.”

  I gasped, both surprised and frankly turned on to be manhandled that way. In the darkness he was little more than an immense silhouette, man and muscle, a huge presence. He was capable of astonishing tenderness, but I couldn’t forget he could bench-press my weight and throw me around like a toy. He took my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine, tentatively at first, and then tilting his head to deepen the kiss, slipping the hands that clutched me around my back to pull me into a tight embrace.

  He reeled me in—like St. Nacho’s itself—trying to drag me down with peace and sentiment and pleasurable sensory overload until I stopped struggling.

  I broke the kiss and pushed him gently away without—I hoped—sending the message that his kiss wasn’t welcome. I was breathless and my skin tingled everywhere.

  Cam’s gaze traveled from my eyes to my dick and back again—like a god, giving his creation the once over and he saw that it was good.

  Cam’s smile lit up the otherwise darkened corner of the lot.

  “Fr-Friday.” That came out weaker than I intended. He nodded, and I got into my car and headed home.

  Chapter Ten

  I made it back in time on Friday the following week to pick up Cam from his apartment just before noon. He answered the door wearing his cat around his neck like a workout towel. The animal hung there motionless except for a loud purr—completely content—while Cam made his last-minute preparations. He gathered his keys and wallet, lifted his duffel, and said, “Okay”. Spot came to life and leaped down off his shoulders to rub up against his legs.

  “Back soon,” Cam told her. I watched him reach down and scratch one last time under her chin. “Jennifer will stop by while I’m gone to check on you.”

  When he was done reassuring his cat, Cam turned a happy face to me and took my breath away. He looked damp and freshly scrubbed, but utterly casual. He hadn’t shaved, so his cheeks were covered with a golden stubble that winked in the sunlight when we exited his apartment and walked to my car.

  “Mind driving? I just drove in from Santa Cruz, and I could use a break.”

  “Sure.”

  I gave him my keys, and he took the wheel after throwing his bag in the trunk.

  He wore a subdued Hawaiian shirt and a pair of cargo shorts. I’d gone with lightweight denim jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, and I’d thrown a sweatshirt in the back of the car.

  “Are you sure you’ll be warm enough?”

  “I’m sure.” He grinned at me as he edged the car out onto the street. “I don�
�t get cold.”

  “Never?”

  “Not that I can remember. It doesn’t get cold enough on the coast here. I guess in the winter I might put on a jacket, or if it snowed or something…”

  I watched the way he gripped the steering wheel with one hand while he let the other rest on the door. His forearms made my stomach do a funny flip. “You have all those muscles to generate heat.”

  He grinned, then flexed them. “Maybe.”

  “So where do you want to go?” I asked. I’d done some checking on the web, and made reservations in a nice Pismo Beach hotel, but other than that, I was completely open to suggestions.

  “There are some tidal pools about an hour south, and we could stop for lunch near there.”

  “Sure.” The car had hardly started, and I was already feeling the pull of a nice nap. I’m afraid I yawned.

  He glanced at me and grinned. “Don’t let me keep you awake.”

  “I didn’t get much sleep last night.” I grabbed my sweatshirt from the backseat and bunched it up. “I’ll be ready to go as soon as the car stops rolling. The combination of being tired and the motion of the car knocks me out.”

  “All right.” He turned on the radio and fished around for a clubby hip-hop station. He was going to hate my presets. “You rest. I hear old guys need that, and I’ll wake you when we get there.”

  I flipped him off, but my heart wasn’t in it; he was right. I pushed my sweatshirt up against the window and fell asleep.

  I dreamed what seemed like a dozen different dreams: of New York, of Bree, of getting another—this time unwanted—tattoo. When at last I woke fully it was because the realization came to me that the car was no longer moving and hadn’t been for some time.