Personal Assets (Texas Nights) (19 page)

“Even if we see each other again, it won’t be serious. Neither of us is looking for commitment.”

Emmalee’s sharp gaze indicated she didn’t believe a word Allie said, but she relented. “Fine, but in a town this size, you don’t have a lot of options. Might want to enjoy a little uncomplicated sex.”

Chapter Fifteen

Cameron walked into Paradise Garden Café for his first EcDev committee breakfast meeting to discover it smelled of garlic, fresh herbs and...cinnamon. He zeroed in on the corner table where Allie sat with Charlie Pfeiffer and two other local businessmen. She was crashing his meeting. Dammit, was it impossible to keep his private and business life separate in this place?

“Good morning, Cameron.” Her smile was open and bright, as though she hadn’t stormed out the last time they’d seen each other. “Hope you don’t mind that Charlie invited me to sit in this morning.”

He scanned the silverware on the table. One, two, three, four, five. All the knives were accounted for. His muscles relaxed slightly. “Morning, y’all.”

He’d originally suggested the group meet at the Skillet, the greasy spoon truck stop that had been a fixture in Shelbyville since forever. But Charlie had pushed for Paradise Café, claiming it served the best scones in the county. Scones? What the hell?

The only remaining chair was next to Allie. He took it, and she passed him a menu as though they’d never argued. “The tofu omelet is one of Eden’s specialties.”

Seriously? “I’m more of a steak and eggs guy.”

“She can whip up whatever you want. Eden’s a genius.” Allie crossed her legs, and her skirt—the color of strawberries today—rode up her thigh. Did she think flashing a slice of tanned skin was going to affect him, smooth things over between them?

Dammit, it was working because the glide of thigh over thigh he glimpsed from the corner of his eye spun him back to the way she’d wrapped her legs around him when they made love. Over the years, he’d been with some attractive, sexy women. But he’d never lost himself with a woman the way he had with her. God knew, he’d been as subtle as a hurricane when he’d gone over the edge, plunging into her body and accidentally losing control of something inside himself that he was trying like hell to get back.

Only he wasn’t sure what that something was.

Cameron swallowed and forced his attention from the freckles he now knew trailed to her bikini line.

Once everyone had coffee and placed their orders, Cameron cleared his throat. “First, thanks to those who agreed to serve on this economic development committee.” He slid a look at Allie, but she settled deeper into her chair and lifted her cup to cover the smile hovering around her lips.

“Y’all probably know more about this economic development stuff than I do—” Lord, let him get through this without looking like an idiot, “—so I’d love suggestions for how to move forward.”

Allie reached into the bag at her feet and pulled out a glossy folder. “I mocked up a sample relocation kit, something you could give businesses considering Shelbyville. Obviously, you’d want to refine and personalize the information.”

Did she know anything about the primary business they were supposed to woo?

Charlie took the folder and flipped through the pages inside. “This is fantastic, Allie. You’d make a real asset to this committee.” He said to Cameron, “You should set up a meeting with Chikkalo Bill’s CEO.”

“Already done.”

Allie’s head shot up. “Isn’t he the one—”

“Yep, the one who invented the buffalo chicken biscuit.” Cameron rubbed his stomach, even though it burned like he’d eaten a dozen of Chikkalo Bill’s nuclear breakfast biscuits.

“When will Marfa be in town?” Charlie asked.

Dammit, he’d hoped to avoid disclosing that bit of info. “July Fourth.”

What was Charlie thinking, inviting Allie and talking about the committee’s plans? Now it would be that much harder to keep Allie’s and Roxanne’s businesses out of their discussions with Dylan Marfa. Her dad had given Cameron the impression neither Personal Assets nor Red Light was financially stable. What would Allie do when her counseling services tanked? Probably move to a city where that kind of thing actually flew.

Why did the thought of her leaving Shelbyville turn those imaginary biscuits into a gastrointestinal forest fire?

“We need a big employer in town, an outfit that’ll provide both skilled and unskilled jobs,” Charlie said. “I’d give anything for my son to move back this way, but he says that’s about as likely as First Baptist Church serving tequila shots at Sunday services. If all our younger generations go off to college and the big cities and never come home, then Shelbyville will eventually turn into just a road sign between Dallas and Houston.”

Surely the situation wasn’t that serious. “What about Allie and me? We came home.”

“Not everyone is cut out to be an entrepreneur. Some folks like the stability of working for a big company. Pardon me for saying it, but someplace where you know they’re going to cut your paycheck every two weeks.”

He had a point. Cameron had yet to pay himself out of the garage’s account. Moving home and opening his own business was supposed to be all about him and what he wanted, not a responsibility toward other people. That was sure turning out well.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Charlie said, “because I’m sure as hell happy to see small businesses opening and succeeding.” He shot a quick look at Allie. “Even ones that aren’t so...traditional. But what about people like my son, not cut out to take big financial and personal risks? Should they be forced to live in some third-floor cracker box in Houston because they can’t make a living wage in their hometown? It’s not right.”

No, it wasn’t, and making a buck was exactly the reason Cameron had stayed in Austin long after he’d tired of working for someone else and spending his weekends dating women whose idea of settling down was to party only three nights a week instead of seven.

“We need Chikkalo Bill’s.” Charlie punctuated his words by stabbing into a muffin.

“Then that’s what Shelbyville will get,” Cameron promised. The waitress brought their food, and suddenly his ham and double cheese omelet didn’t look so appetizing. He turned his head and hid a burp behind his fist.

“Everything okay?” Allie reached for the creamer and her arm brushed his.

His brain got the message their wham-bam relationship had been a bad idea. Unfortunately his hormones were waging an uprising against his head. His body was still infatuated with her scent, the smooth slide of her skin, the tilt of her stubborn chin, the clench of her body as she came.

“Fine,” he choked out.

“So with Shelbyville’s future at stake, Cameron, what are your thoughts on Allie?” Charlie asked.

Attracted, confused and damn close to obsessed. “I’d be a fool to say no.” He’d been a fool to say yes to her in the first place. How many figurative knives could one man juggle? Allie, her dad, his mom, this committee, Shelbyville’s future. Sure as shooting, he would look like chopped brisket by the time this was all over.

* * *

Throughout the breakfast meeting, Allie watched Cameron. He looked like he’d swallowed a bullfrog. Uncomfortable, dyspeptic and close to bolting. To his credit, he’d clenched his jaw and agreed to let her serve on his committee. Maybe his surrender was just a case of keeping
his
enemy close.

Or maybe he hadn’t forgotten how good they were together. Optimism warmed her. Oh yeah, by the way he’d ogled her legs, he wasn’t immune. He wasn’t done with this thing between them any more than she was.

The other men finished their meals, slapped Cameron’s back, kissed Allie’s cheek and left.

Eden took that opportunity to poke her head from the kitchen door and mouthed, “Is this a good time?” over Cameron’s head.

She motioned Eden to the table. “Cameron, this is Eden Durant, Paradise’s owner and culinary wunderkind.”

Eden ducked her head but couldn’t hide the pink creeping up her neck. “Allie exaggerates.”

Cameron stood, and Eden actually shook his hand, although she wasn’t normally much of a social touchy-feely gal. “You make a mean ham-and-cheese omelet.”

An especially nice thing to say since Charlie told her Cameron had lobbied hard to meet at the Skillet.

“Glad you enjoyed it.” She pointed to the empty pastry basket on the table. “Your mom made those fabulous cranberry-pecan muffins.”

“When you see her, be sure to tell her I ate two.”

Eden laughed and headed to the kitchen. When Cameron took his seat again, she turned back and silently said, “Wow!”

“She’s not from around here,” he commented.

“California.” Allie toyed with her coffee cup but drinking one more mouthful of caffeine was out of the question. Her nerves were already jagged. “Which means this town is still attracting bright, talented people who can help keep Shelbyville alive. With some of the businesses that have opened in the past few years, this place is becoming more open-minded. I mean, Charlie wanted to eat here rather than the Skillet.” Granted, she knew it probably had more to do with Emmalee making those muffins than Eden’s push for healthier eating, but Cameron didn’t. “Would that have happened ten years ago?”

“Probably not.”

“Attracting a company like Chikkalo Bill’s would unravel all that progress, possibly throwing Shelbyville back into a dark age.”

“Don’t you think
dark age
is a little melodramatic?”

“So you seriously think Chikkalo Bill’s CEO would be happy sitting across from Roxanne at a Chamber meeting while she’s wearing one of her Promise Keeper logo shirts?”

“Not all businesses are going to go hand in hand, I’ll grant you that. But you heard what Charlie said. Roxanne can’t support more than one or two part-time employees, right?”

Allie dipped her head in agreement.

“But a big commercial bakery and distribution center? I did a little digging, and the one Chikkalo Bill’s opened in San Angelo employs at least five hundred people.” He tapped a finger on his napkin. “How can we afford to ignore those kind of numbers?”

“There are other companies—retailers, grocery chains—that we could attract.” Companies that didn’t pour money into conservative political coffers and make morality judgments on other business owners.

“But Chikkalo Bill’s is interested
now.
Yeah, I’m new to this business development stuff, but even I know you don’t talk some big company into bed overnight.”

Which made Allie think of the night she’d spent in Cameron’s bed. Would she be able to talk her way back into it again? Maybe if he understood that she provided as valuable a service as Chikkalo Bill’s did with all their jobs.

She took a deep breath, preparing to plunge into what could put her and Cameron on opposite sides forever. “If I can concede that Shelbyville needs some bigger industry, can you try to see why Personal Assets is just as critical to the community’s well-being?”

His shoulders slumped slightly, and he rubbed his fingers across his forehead. “I talked with my mom.”

“So did I.”

“She seems to think you’re a miracle worker. That you can help her build a better life.”

A warm glow settled in her chest. “Cameron, I care about the women I work with. I believe in what I do. If you can’t respect that, can you at least accept it?”

“You’re asking for a lot when it comes to a man’s mom. I didn’t even know she was dating anyone, and now I have to be okay with her trying to improve her—” he winced, “—love life.”

“You can use the word
sex.
”

“No, I can’t. Not when it’s in the same sentence with the word
mom.
”

“You don’t have to like that she’s getting back in the game. In fact, you can pretend you don’t know.”

“Because keeping things quiet works so well in a small town.” He shifted his chair, the legs screeching across the floor. “And while we’re talking about keeping private topics private, I don’t recall a response to my question the other night. You know, the one about your plan to share the nitty-gritty details of our
relationship.
”

He noticed she’d dodged, huh?

Dodged? She’d hightailed it away from his place like a cat with its tail on fire. “I don’t recall you asking. I recall some unfounded accusations.”

“You didn’t deny it.”

“I would’ve asked you first. You didn’t give me time. Besides, no one would’ve known who I was talking about anyway.”

“Did you plan to keep me your dirty little secret, princess?”

“Which is it, Cameron? You can’t have it both ways. Either people know about us or they don’t.” Is that what was really bothering him, that she might be ashamed of him?

He leaned close, caught her gaze. “How would you feel if you found out I was blabbing down at the garage about how you give such good head, you could permanently cross a man’s eyes?” His tone lowered. “Or how you scream when you come?”

Point made. She wouldn’t want him sharing those details, especially out of context. “Look, it wasn’t personal.”

Cameron jerked back at her words. God, she’d sounded callous. What a mess she’d made. Of everything.

“What I mean is, yes, I wanted a physical relationship with you. And yes, I hoped it would help me relate better with my clients. Why should they trust the advice of someone who hasn’t had sex in over two years?”

“Two years?”

“And three months.” And sixteen days, but who’d counted?

“Why me, princess?”

“Because you can be a grump. Because you love your mom. Because you’re kind to kids you don’t know. Because you’re a good man.” She should kick herself for naming attributes that were anything but physical. Now he’d know she’d blown the terms of their agreement. That she had feelings for him.

And right there, in view of Eden’s waitress and anyone walking past the café’s windows, Allie leaned over and kissed Cameron full on the mouth.

Chapter Sixteen

Two days later Cameron was circling Charlie’s 1964 Pontiac GTO in his garage and still trying to figure out what the hell had happened with Allie at that breakfast meeting.