The Dysfunctional Test (13 page)

He turned and looked at the back of her head. Cam didn’t believe in that stuff. Nonsense, she’d called it. But he believed. And he was digging his own grave by allowing himself even the idea that they could be more. What moron permitted himself to have feelings for a woman who didn’t believe in magic?

He wondered if doing this list in his head would loosen her up.

He rolled on his side and tapped her back. “Cam, wake up. Concussion check.” She moaned. His dick jumped. “What’s your name and where are you?”

She shifted to her back, and the sheet fell, exposing her belly button below the hem of her tee. He gripped the blanket to stop himself from edging over and placing his mouth there.

“Alice, and we’re in Wonderland.”

He froze.

The bed shook as she laughed. His eyes narrowed. She rolled on her side to face him. When one eye peeked open and she saw his expression, she laughed harder.

Stopping abruptly, her hand flew to her head. “Ow.”

“Serves you right,” he said. “That wasn’t funny.”

Sighing, she dropped her hand and tucked it under her cheek. “You’re losing your sense of humor, Troy.”

And you’re growing one.
“Two items checked off in one night. I’m impressed.” She sent him a questioning glare, so he elaborated. “Dance in the rain and laugh until it hurts. Check and check.”

Her gaze roamed his face before she asked, “Are you trying to change me with this list? People don’t change, Troy.”

Yes, they do.
At least some people did. And she didn’t need changing. He liked her just as she was, uptight quirks and all. She’d had this whole other side to her once, she just lost it somewhere along the way. If no one else but him saw this side of her, he could live with that. Just so long as she knew she could expose it once in a while. Just so she knew there was nothing wrong with her.

“You’re changing me,” he said, and immediately regretted the slip. By the look on her face, she thought he’d insulted her. Which was probably for the best.

“You were good with Emily today.”

“Before or after I dropped her off a horse?”

She smiled. “The way you handled her fear, it was amazing. You’ll make a great dad.”

And wasn’t that the damndest thing she’d ever said. More than anything, being a father was his greatest fear. The thought of losing his temper and laying a hand on a defenseless child…

“You’re not him,” she whispered. His gaze shot to hers. “You’re not your dad.”

Holy damn. How hard had he fought to hide that part of himself? To bury it deep where no one could ever see the weakness? And in one sentence she spilled it all out there. Said every fear in three words. She’d been a lifeline back then. So had Fisher, but for different reasons. She told no one about seeing him cry. About the mean things he shouted at her while working through the anger. It all stayed between them. Every last private, humiliating moment.

“Tell me the state capitals.”

She pursed her lips, and he wanted to laugh but refrained. “I don’t need a quiz. My head is fine.”

No comment. “Maybe so, but I can’t sleep. State capitals should bore me enough.”

She smiled and closed her eyes. “The capital of Wisconsin is Madison. The capital of Illinois is Springfield. The capital of Iowa is Des Moines. Wyoming’s capital is…”

She trailed off and fell asleep before he could learn the capital of Wyoming. Shame too, because for some reason, he wanted to know.

At the smell of coffee, Camryn peeked one eye open hoping to see the caffeine fairy holding a fresh pot. Maybe a donut too, for good measure. Instead, Troy was standing next to the bed, staring down at her with a tray in his hands. Okay, he’d do.

“What are you doing?” she asked, sitting up. She pressed a palm to her throbbing head. So much for feeling better.

“Breakfast in bed,” he said. “The doctor said to take it easy today.”

She’d never taken anything easy. It was just a concussion. She’d had worse. “Got any aspirin to go with that coffee?”

He set the tray down on the bed in front of her and sat across from her. “Yeah, and some toast. If that stays down, I can get you some eggs. The cook made Denver omelets.”

As soon as the room stopped spinning, and her stomach with it, she may try food. Swallowing the aspirin, she studied him. He stared down at her tray, and then around the room. He was feeling guilty. Still. Telling him the accident wasn’t his fault last night didn’t help.

“I may need to go back to the hospital. I think I have a brain bleed.”

His gaze whipped to hers. “What?”

She laughed, causing her headache to split her skull wide open. “Relax, Troy. It’s just a headache. I’m fine.” She resisted the urge to press her hand to the pounding. Darn little elves in her head drilling holes.

He frowned at her. “You think that’s funny? I’m worried sick and you think that’s funny?”

She sobered. People didn’t usually worry about her. “I’m not used to all this attention,” she said, staring at him. “I’m sorry.”

His features relaxed. “Get used to it, ’cause you’re stuck with me all day.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. “Excuse me?”

His glare was intended for no breathing room. “You’re not leaving this room today.”

“I don’t take orders.”

Crossing his arms, he leaned against the bedpost. “You’re taking this one.” He crossed one foot over the other as if settling in.

“Troy…”

“Camryn…” he mimicked.

Huffing out a breath, she glared at him, trying to remind herself he did this out of guilt. “I realize you’re upset for throwing me off a horse…”

“I didn’t throw you off a horse.”

Exactly. “And for giving me pneumonia by making me dance in the rain…”

“You don’t have pneumonia…” He cut himself off and snapped his mouth shut, finally figuring out her motive. “Clever girl. No wonder Emily likes you so much. You have reverse psychology down to an art form.”

She sipped her coffee. “You can stop feeling bad now. I’m not an invalid.”

His tone softened. “Today, you’re
my
invalid.”

The way he said
my
had a possessive ring to it. One she didn’t mind. Instead of making her feel dependent, it made her feel wanted. She’d never felt wanted before. However, she was not going to spend all day in this room doing nothing. What would the family think?

“I’ve never spent all day in bed, I’m not going to start now.”

“You’ve never spent a day in bed? Just relaxing?”

“No. I live in the real world. People work, and have things to do.”

His brows lifted. “And what do you have to do today?”

He was infuriating. There was no arguing with him. “The family…”

“Is off on a hike. They left an hour ago. They’re going to grab lunch and head to the bakery afterward to try cake samples. We’re alone all day.”

She looked at the bedside clock. Ten a.m.? “I’ve never slept this late.” She looked out the patio doors, seeing the sun near full blaze.

“There are benefits to staying in bed, you know.” He wiggled his brows.

No way did he go there, even if he was only kidding. After those kisses, she was having a hard enough time not envisioning what it would feel like having Troy touch her. Do more than kiss.

“Bed sores?” she said, trying not to show her true thoughts.

“Ah, Cam. You disappoint me.” He nodded at her tray. “Eat your toast.”

She glanced at the tray before her. It was really sweet of him to bring this up, even if it was out of guilt. He’d laid a wild daisy from a patch she’d seen edging the yard next to the orange juice. “I’ve never had breakfast in bed either.”

“Really? What’s wrong with these guys you’ve been dating?”

Everything. Nothing.

When she didn’t answer, he leaned forward. “Well, I’ll add this to my Camryn list. Today will be a day of firsts. Sleeping in, breakfast in bed, and staying in said bed all day.”

She didn’t like the sound of that either. A day in bed with Troy. Okay, maybe not all bad, except Troy didn’t have naughty fantasies in mind. And she was deluded for even thinking it. She picked up the flower and twirled the stem between her fingers, watching the petals spin and blur. She should feel stupid for liking the gesture. It was just a flower, and he didn’t mean anything by it.

“Add giving me flowers to that list, then.”

He was silent so long she glanced up from the daisy at him. Mouth open, he gaped at her. “Are you trying to be funny again? I can’t tell.”

Now she did feel stupid. She could feel her face heat. Troy was the only person on this planet who could make her lose her cool. She said things and admitted things she never would otherwise. For some reason, he not only frustrated her to no end, but he confused her too.

“Are you trying to have me believe no man has brought you flowers? Ever?”

Now he was making her sound pathetic. Something she could do just fine on her own. She certainly didn’t need him for that. “No. What does that matter? They die fast and stink up the room,” she justified.

He shook his head in obvious pity. “What else haven’t you done?”

She hated pity most of all. “I haven’t stood on my head and twirled either, but you don’t see me upset over it.”

His glance darted heavenward, and then back to her. “Seeing as you have a concussion, perhaps something less active would be appropriate.” She didn’t answer. “Okay, Cam. Lay it on me. What’s something you’ve always wanted to do, but never have?”

A lot, by his standards. But she could only think of one thing, and there was no harm in telling him, since they couldn’t do it anyway.

“I always wanted to visit Paris.”

“You?” he asked, like the statement was preposterous. “Camryn Covic in the most romantic city in the world?”

Romance had nothing to do with it. “Paris is considered one of the best cities in the world for innovation. I dealt with a few companies in Paris at my old job. Plus, the Eiffel Tower was supposed to be temporary for the 1889 Universal Exposition, but the tower was never dismantled. I find that fascinating.”

“Uh huh,” he said, staring at her as if she were an alternate life form.

“The food would be worth it too. Crepes, croissants, soufflés, espresso. I’m gaining ten pounds just thinking about it, but the weight would be worth the trip.”

“Only you could take the romance out of Paris.”

“Espresso’s very sexy.”

He laughed and stood. “All right, Cam. I’m going out for a bit. I left some stuff in the bathroom for you. Take a hot bath while I’m gone.”

A hot bath sounded good. “Where are you going?”

“Eat your toast,” he said. As if that was an answer. He stopped at the door. “And don’t leave this room.”

Just to defy him, she crossed her arms. “And what if the house is on fire?”

“Argue with the flames,” he said dryly. “You’d probably win. It’ll put itself out.”

What a comedian.

After he left she drank the rest of her coffee and headed for the bathroom. On the side of the tub was a packet of scented bath salts and lotion. She’d never bought that kind of stuff before. The most frivolous female thing she used was her lemongrass shampoo, and that was only because she liked the brand. It tamed her hair.

Shrugging, she turned on the water and sat on the edge of the tub to read the directions.

Chapter Nine

Life Lessons According to Camryn:

Stress is when you wake up screaming before you’ve fallen asleep.

Troy let himself back into the house and set the shopping bags on the kitchen counter. He’d been able to find just about everything he needed in town.

Paris. He shook his head. He hoped one day she’d make it there for real, but for now, his fake Paris would have to do. It would also keep her in their room resting without too much argument.

He hoped. If it was one thing Camryn did best, it was fight him. Stubborn woman.

Grinning, he climbed the stairs to check up on her. Upon entering their bedroom, the bathroom door was closed. He’d been gone almost two hours. Worried, he knocked on the door. “Cam, you okay in there?”

“Um, yes.” Splashing. “I must have fallen asleep. I’ll be out in a second.”

Good, she’d rested. At least she’d listened to him on that account. He looked at the bed. The orange juice and toast were still on her tray. She’d finished the coffee. Well, hopefully she was hungry now.

“Actually,” he said through the door, “take your time. I’ll call you out when I’m ready.”

Pause. “Ready for what?”

He rolled his eyes. She couldn’t leave things be or sit back and enjoy life. She had to know everything, control everything. Which gave him an idea for his list.

“I have supplies for an Amazon mating ritual.”

“Excuse me?” The door whizzed open, steam billowing out.

She stood there in a black robe, eyes popping from her sockets. Her hair was pinned up in a high ponytail, damp and curling at the ends. She smelled like the rose-scented bath salts he’d left for her instead of her usual lemongrass. Pity. He liked the lemongrass better. Suited her more. Light and fuss free, like her.