Slow Summer Burn: A Loveswept Contemporary Romance (12 page)

Seb was holding court at the large communal table in the center of the room with Lexie at his side. As usual, he was dressed in all black, and he looked relaxed, happy, and confident. Theo was sitting close by, Avery on his lap. When she bent her head to whisper something to him, her gorgeous red hair cascaded over her shoulder. Theo smiled at her, and when she straightened up, he tucked her hair behind her ear. A loud laugh sounded from another corner of the room, and she saw Cole, his head thrown back, Julie beaming by his side. Not even a bullet wound could hold him back tonight.

The joy radiating from the place nearly made her heart burst.

Then she took a breath and surveyed the scene with a practiced eye. The space had really come together beautifully and had a rustic, country feel to it. The cream and brick-red color scheme of the walls was echoed in the seat cushions, which acted as an accent against the oak-colored tables. The stenciling around the top of the walls provided just a bit of interest. Little white lights were strung across the ceiling in draping waves, winking as they swayed with the movement of the air. The soft glow of scattered votive candles made wineglasses flicker, while the huge beveled mirror Val had hung up gave the illusion of the place being larger than it really was.

The party spilled out of a set of double doors onto the patio, where someone had strung
glowing paper lanterns from the boughs of trees. Underneath the starry sky, people sat on wrought-iron chairs, laughing, smiling, and eating as they praised the food and the chef who’d made this night possible. As a server went by, Cameron caught the aroma of herb-roasted chicken and her mouth began to water.

Just then, there was a huge crash from the kitchen and everyone, including Seb, stopped. For the briefest moment, there was utter silence.

“
Now
it’s a party!” Seb roared. People cheered and went back to their conversations.

It was vibrant, messy, and loud. She loved it.

“Shall we go in?”

Cameron nodded her assent, just happy to be with him. Val had picked her up at her cottage, but until this evening she hadn’t seen him since he left her place on Friday morning. Craving time together, they’d spent half an hour necking in his pickup truck before he’d informed her that under no circumstances was he missing Seb’s opening.
Later
, he’d promised with a wicked grin, and she could hardly wait.

He put his hand on the small of her back, undoubtedly to guide her into the room, but the gesture was charged. She gave a quick glance to see if he’d noticed it too, but though the hint of a smile was at his lips, he looked straight ahead, steering her through the crowd, even as people stepped aside to let them through.

Somehow he’d cleared a space for them right next to Theo and Avery. Cameron sat down and a glass of wine was pressed into her hand.

“Cheers,” Val said, raising his own glass to her. They clinked glasses and she drank, letting the liquid warm her from the inside out. And then there was food—lots and lots of food. She had a stuffed mushroom cap topped with Gruyère cheese, one perfect chunk of fried halibut dipped in spicy mayonnaise, and some of that delectable roast chicken she’d smelled upon arrival. And tons of warm, crusty bread topped with cheese and tapenade and thick slices of tomato. Every bite was ambrosial, the flavors and the textures melding together like a dream.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” asked Avery, and Cameron nodded and smiled.

“I like the food,” Theo said, popping a corn fritter into his mouth. “Everything tastes so good. I can guarantee that Seb’ll have to keep the place open year-round.”

“Oh, no,” Avery said. “I like the fact that it’s supposed to be a summer place. It’s more special knowing that it’s only open for a short time, and then it’ll be gone.”

“It makes you want to savor it while it lasts,” Cameron said.

Avery nodded. “Exactly. Sometimes, the most fleeting pleasures are the most memorable.”

She glanced over at Val, and he was looking right back at her. Then everything in the room—the noise, the food, the people—just cut out for a minute and it was only him in the room. When she blinked, everything returned to normal.

Cameron continued to chat with Theo and Avery, and then she talked to the man on the other side of Val, a guy named Dylan who happened to be the artist who created the giant mirror hanging in the Schoolhouse. She asked for his card so she could stop by and look at his other work—the mirror was so beautiful, she thought she could sell a dozen without even trying.

Val didn’t say much, just nodded and laughed when the situation warranted it. On the occasions he did speak, he said something insightful, and then the conversation would roll on. Cameron reveled in Val’s quiet presence and the intimate sensation of his arm around her waist. When there was a break in the conversation, she turned back to him. Before he glanced down at her, she caught him looking at Seb with pride. No one in her family had bothered to come to either of her stores’ openings.

She must have been smiling a bit too brightly at him, since Val cocked his head and gave her a quizzical look.

“It’s nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “This is just really … fun.”

“Yeah,” he said, and tightened his arm around her.

And as she thought about what she’d just said, she realized how starved she’d been for something as simple as
fun
. All she did was work, attend charity events, and work some more. Half the time when she woke up, she wasn’t sure whether she was in Boston or Star Harbor. This was the first evening she’d actually been relaxed enough to enjoy herself. Maybe because no one knew or even cared who she was. Here, it was just friendly people having a good time. Resolving to do more things like this, she drank some more wine—some delicious California cabernet—and leaned closer into Val.

The evening flew by, and sooner than she could have imagined, the party began to wind down. The noise had dimmed, the crowd had thinned, and the only people left were the kitchen crew, the Grayson brothers, their women, and a few scattered groups here and there, trying to drain the evening dry.

“Think we’ll get going now,” Val said, holding out a hand to help her up.

Cameron rose. “Thank you, Sebastian. I had such a wonderful time. I know this place is going to be a huge success.”

“Thank
you
for making this happen,” Seb responded, flashing her a grin as he stood. “Without your help, no one would have had a place to sit.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Cameron murmured as he and Val shook hands.

“You did good, bro,” Val said, gripping Seb’s hand. “Real good. Mom and Dad would have been proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Seb said, looking a little bit stunned. “That means an awful lot.”

Theo piped in. “I second that.”

“Ditto,” Cole said.

Val gave a small smile. “ ’Night, everyone.”

There was a chorus of good nights. Val helped Cameron outside and into his pickup truck. While she waited for him to come around to the other side, she couldn’t muffle her yawn. He caught the tail end of it as he eased into the cab from the driver’s side.

“Tired?”

“Yes. Don’t get me wrong, I had such a good time tonight,” she said, “but I’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately, and I guess it’s caught up with me.”

“You should relax more,” he said.

She looked out her window. The headlights illuminated the darkened trees for only a second before they once again faded into blackness. “Yes. I should. And I think you can help with that.”

It had been a good night. Seb had launched the Schoolhouse to an adoring crowd. And it hadn’t all been friends and family. Seb, ever savvy, had invited one member of the press—a well-known reviewer from the
Boston Globe
whose identity was a poorly kept secret. By this time tomorrow, reservations at the Schoolhouse would be booked for the rest of the season.

You did great
, Cameron had said, and at times like these, he had to believe it. The Grayson boys had accomplished a lot, though it hadn’t all been his doing. His parents had set the standards—he’d merely helped his brothers to follow through. Even though his folks had been gone so long it seemed like a lifetime ago, his impressions of them were firmly crystallized in his
mind. He could just picture his dad, eyes smiling, as he kicked back with a beer after a long day of fishing, the sway of his mom’s hair as she bent down to give him a kiss.

They would have enjoyed tonight—the food, the laughter, their boys all together. And they would have been so proud of Sebastian.

Would they have been as proud of him?

He hoped so.

He’d definitely tried to make good—college, law school, the DEA, all while helping to raise his brothers, getting them to morph from boys into men.

His pickup truck kicked up pieces of gravel as he pulled up the long driveway to the Alcott estate, and a plinking sound accompanied them the whole way to the cottage. He cut the engine and glanced over to where Cameron sat. She should have looked out of place in his old pickup, but for some reason, she didn’t. Maybe it was the way she was sitting—straight, but not stiffly. Could be the clothes she had on—some kind of flowy top, obviously pricey, and an equally pricey-looking pair of jeans. But she wore them; they didn’t wear her. She took off her seat belt, and he did the same.

“Are we going to make it to the house this time?” he said, just as she reached for him.

“We did last time,” she whispered, kissing his neck.

“Sure we did. A bit late, though,” he said, unclasping her bra with his fingers.

“Do you have protection?” She was unbuttoning his fly now, her clever fingers working fast.

He reached over and popped the glove compartment open, revealing a whole box of condoms. “I do now.” He flipped her so that she was lying on her back under him. Then he kissed her, long and deep.

“Oh, my,” she breathed, shoving his pants down his hips. “Enough to last all night.” She stroked down his back and squeezed his ass. “Lucky me.”

Chapter 12

Home for Friday-night dinner the week after Seb’s opening, Cameron felt like an alien from another planet, even as she watched her family engage in their usual politesse. Although she was used to this behavior, for some reason, it felt even more stifling than usual.

“Cecile, would you please pass the saltcellar?” Clarissa Endicott Stahl intoned. “Jacques has under-seasoned the chicken this evening.” It was a simple request, yet laced with all of the weight that her mother put into every demand she uttered. A servant silently slipped out of the room, undoubtedly to inform Jacques of his faux pas.

“Of course, Mama,” Cecile said. Her sister carefully laid her knife and fork just so before attending to Clarissa’s request, passing both the salt and pepper shakers down the table. As the shakers came her way, Cameron dutifully did the same, passing them to her mother, who was seated just to her left.

“Frederick?” Clarissa asked after she’d shaken a liberal amount of salt onto her chicken.

Cameron glanced at her handsome, silver-haired father, seated at the other end of the table. He hadn’t been a young man when he’d married the vivacious, well-connected Clarissa Endicott, but he still looked good.

“You’re right, my dear,” her father said without complaint. “As usual.”

Clarissa gave a short nod, and back went the salt and pepper shakers the other way. Her father gave a few generous shakes and then passed the shakers back to Cecile.

Cecile watched her mother and father eating. Uncertainly, she picked the salt shaker up and shook a little salt on her own chicken. Then she picked up the pepper shaker and offered both to Cameron.
Like I’m a lemming
.

“No, thank you,” Cameron said.

Cecile’s eyes widened. She placed both shakers on the table and went back to eating. One of the servants came up next to her father, refilled his wineglass, then slid back just as unobtrusively into his place next to the sideboard.

Cameron sighed. Because she still lived at home, her younger sister was completely inured to the oppressive atmosphere of these Friday-night dinners. For Cici’s sake, she couldn’t
wait for the day when she got a backbone, left the house, and took an apartment of her own. Twenty-five years old and she’d never lived anywhere but her parents’ house. Like Cameron, she’d even commuted to college instead of living on campus, which accounted for her complete lack of social life. Except for the events of which Clarissa approved, naturally. West still lived at home too, but he came and went as he pleased.

Cameron picked up her own fork once again and made the mistake of checking how her Uncle Nigel was enjoying the proceedings. When she looked across the table, he gave her a saucy wink. She barely stifled her laughter in time.

Her mother’s younger brother, Nigel Endicott was nothing like his sister. Whereas Clarissa was proud, more than cognizant of the power and respect her name and place in society afforded her, Nigel had used his connections to facilitate his way only when truly necessary. Though the Endicott name had surely allowed him entrée into the exclusive world of high-end antiquities and antiques, he’d made his own name through his impeccable reputation and undeniable good taste. Cameron wasn’t bothered by the fact that her uncle was considered to be something of a ladies’ man. Back when he was in his mid-forties, his string of affairs with some of the most beautiful, desirable women in the world was catalogued in every gossip magazine. But she knew he wasn’t the playboy type most people thought he was. He was a real, down-to-earth man who appreciated hard work and beauty—in whatever form.

When she’d first gotten started with her Newberry Street boutique, Nigel had been her biggest supporter, helping her learn to manage the business end of things and even appraising antiques for sale. She owed him so much, but he hadn’t asked for anything in return. Part of her thought he might be helping her just to nettle Clarissa. He did love needling his sister, and the fact that Cameron had followed Nigel into the shop business was a thorn in Clarissa’s side. Regardless of what her mother or anyone else thought of him, she loved her uncle and considered him one of the finest men she’d ever met.