The Dysfunctional Test (15 page)

“What do you feel?”

“Why do you keep asking me that? I feel ridiculous.”

He sighed heavily, as if irritated with her. “Stay here.” She could hear him walking ahead and stopping. “Okay, Cam. Over here.”

This time, she walked without pausing, trying to imagine what it was he sought from her with his repeated question. If she answered correctly, maybe he’d stop this charade. Heck, she should just rip this blindfold off and head back to the house. Why the heck couldn’t she say no to him?

Her left foot came down mid-step, landing on nothing but thin air. Off-balance, she propelled forward in a free fall. A scream caught in her throat. His arms came around her, jerking her to a stop against his solid chest.

“What do you feel? Right now. Answer without thinking.”

“Scared. Helpless.” She waited for her heartbeat to start again.

“Good.”

“Good?” she repeated, grinding her teeth, ready to pound her fists on his chest. “You jerk! I fell.”

She reached up to yank the blindfold off. His hands pinned hers down.

“Yes, good. I caught you, didn’t I? Scared and helpless is how most of us stumble through life, Cam. Not like you, always in control. You can’t control everything.”

The temper drained out of her. If only he knew how scared she was. All the time. She didn’t have near the control she pretended she did. “You made your point. Can I take this off now?”

“In a second,” he muttered. His voice sounded strange again. Low.

He released her wrists and slid up her arms, over her shoulders, and cupped her cheeks. And there was her heartbeat. Still functioning. In hyper drive. She could hear the click of his swallow. Could feel the heat from his skin.

The air around them shifted, or maybe it was just her. But seconds ticked by, waiting for what he’d do. Wondering what he was thinking.

“Cam,” he said, mere centimeters from her mouth. “I’m having a really difficult time not kissing you right now.”

Did that mean he was feeling this shift too? That it wasn’t only her?

His thumbs slid under the scarf at her temple, drawing it up and over her head. She blinked to adjust her eyes, only to find them surrounded by darkness. There was only him in front of her.

A look crossed his face, part pain, part guilt. His mouth popped open like he would say something, but instead he dropped his hands and backed away.

She shivered, suddenly, glaringly cold.

His gaze darted around them before landing at her feet. “That’s enough for one night,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Let’s head back.”

She followed him back to the house in silence, trying to logically categorize these strange feelings. She’d dated Maxwell for almost two years, and not once had she ever felt like she just did with Troy. Like if he didn’t kiss her she’d die.

He was the one making her lose control. Forget his list and everything else. She wasn’t herself around him. Even in her own head.

They stepped into the house, finding Fisher and Emily at the kitchen table.

Troy crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “I thought you guys went to bed.”

Fisher glanced down at Emily in his lap. “Emily wanted to see Camryn.”

“Can I sleep with you?” her niece asked, pleading through huge, glassy eyes.

Fisher sighed. “I think the fall scared her. Then not seeing you all day today made it worse. Would you mind?”

Camryn shook her head. “It’s okay with me if it’s okay with Troy.”

Troy nodded his consent. “I’ll meet you upstairs. I’m going to take a quick shower.”

Fisher watched Troy leave the room, then turned to her, studying her like an algebra equation she used to help him with in high school. “Did I interrupt something? Is everything okay between you two?”

No. Yes. “Nothing to worry about.” She held her arms out for Emily. “Come on, honey. We can watch a movie and fall asleep.”

As she climbed the stairs, Emily snuggled her nose against Camryn’s neck. Perhaps Fisher was right. “Were you worried about me today? Did that fall off the horse scare you?” Emily nodded her head. Had she known, Camryn would have made an appearance downstairs today, Troy be damned. “I’m sorry about that. But I’m okay. The doctor told me to rest, so I did. I would tell you if something were wrong. I always tell you the truth, right?”

Emily lifted her head and nodded. “’Cause I’m not a baby.”

“That’s right.”

She carried Emily into their room and set her on the bed. Camryn pulled on her pajamas just as Troy’s shower turned off. After she set up the DVD player with
Beauty and the Beast
, Troy emerged from the bathroom. He flopped on his back on his side of the bed. Camryn hit Play and sat down on her side with Emily between them.

Emily looked between her and Troy. “How come you sleep in the bed with Uncle Troy now?”

Troy grinned. “Yeah, Auntie Cam. How come?”

She narrowed her eyes. She opened her mouth and closed it again, wondering how to explain to a three-year-old, when Camryn wasn’t even sure herself. “Um, well, Uncle Troy and I are dating now, so that’s what people do.”

“What’s dating mean?”

“When two people are attracted to each other, they start dating. They go out together and spend time together.”

Emily appeared to be mulling the information over as Belle in her movie started singing through a small French village. “So you and Uncle Troy attack each other now?”

Troy laughed. “Auntie Cam and I have been attacking each other for years.”

Emily whipped him an irritated look. Troy snapped his mouth shut and focused on the movie instead.

“We’re
attracted
to each other, yes,” Camryn said, the statement holding more truth than she’d like.

Troy muttered a sound of duress.

Emily bore him down with a glare. “Be quiet,” she ordered, then looked at Camryn. “So you kiss and stuff?”

It was the
and stuff
Camryn couldn’t get out of her head. She really wanted the
and stuff
. “Sure. Let’s watch the movie now. It’s past your bedtime.”

“What happens after dating?” she asked, undeterred.

“Well, if things go well, and you’re lucky, you get married.”

“Like Auntie Heather and Uncle Justin?”

“Yes,” she said, pointing to the TV, hoping the barrage of questions would stop and she’d watch the movie. Camryn had never minded answering Emily’s endless questions before, as her niece always was inquisitive. But this was getting severely uncomfortable.

Emily sat back and started watching her movie, so Camryn laid down and settled in.

After a few minutes, Emily turned to Troy. “Are you lucky?”

Troy looked up at her. “Lucky?”

“Lucky enough to get married?”

Troy’s face went blank as he looked back at the TV. “Luck’s never been on my side,” he mumbled.

Chapter Ten

Life Lessons According to Camryn:

It takes a lot of effort to look this relaxed.

Camryn looked around the small boutique spa and quelled another sneeze looming. The place had baskets of cinnamon potpourri and several scented candles burning. Supposedly for ambiance. The walls were a hideous mint green, probably for a calming effect, but it only served to remind Camryn of a Shamrock Shake.

It had been Heather’s idea for them to have a relaxing girls day out. Seated between Bernice and her mother, Camryn fidgeted with the white robe the staff made her put on, while Anna and Heather each paged through a magazine. This was not her idea of relaxing. They were waiting on their massages currently.

“That one,” Heather said.

“Oh, I agree,” Anna said.

Camryn sighed. “I told you I’m not getting my hair cut.”

Heather turned the magazine around for her to see, as if that would change her mind. “This would only be an inch off, with a few layers. Some nice highlights…”

“No.”

They were trying to be nice, but they were really trying to make her prettier. More attractive. A haircut and highlights wouldn’t do that.

“Camryn Covic,” her mother said in her infamous warning tone, “there’s nothing wrong with a change.”

Camryn rolled her eyes. What the hell. It couldn’t be worse, right?

A team of people entered their room—two young men, two women, and what Camryn could only describe as a third woman who looked like she’d been personally trained in medieval torture.

One of the men looked at a clipboard. “Heather, you’re with me.”

Of course she was. Did they only breed hot people in Colorado? The other man took Anna, the two women for Mom and Bernice, leaving Camryn with Brunhilda the Tormentor.

Relaxing, my ass
.

Brunhilda led her down a long hall and into a small, darkened room where ocean waves played softly from a CD player. More ambiance.

“You can hang your robe on the back of the door and get on the table, face down.”

“Naked?” she asked, horrified. Camryn looked around for torture devices.

“You’ll be under a sheet.”

Brunhilda left the room, so Camryn quickly disrobed and flopped on the table before she could return. She had just pulled the sheet up when the woman re-entered. Brunhilda—she never asked her real name—stretched her arms above her head. Scratch that, stretched her tree trunks above her head. She was a solid mass of muscle.

“What’s your name?” Camryn asked as a seagull cried out from the ocean waves CD. What next, a barge?

“Clarice,” she said, cracking her knuckles. “Now, relax.”

Great, she got the massage therapist from
Silence of the Lambs
. That was only one step up from Brunhilda the Tormentor. She wondered when Anthony Hopkins would show up.

An hour later, Camryn walked back into the waiting room feeling like she’d been plowed by a steamroller, scraped off the sidewalk, and run over again for good measure. Everyone else gushed about how wonderful their massages were as she dressed.

Moments later, Jeffrey the Hairdresser came in and called her name. Wanting to point to Heather, she instead raised her hand. He tapped his mouth with a finger while walking circles around her.

When finished with his third lap, he looked at Heather. “I see what you mean.” He looked at Camryn. “Come with me.”

Do I have to
?

He seated her in front of a mirrored station and draped her. He did three more laps. “I think caramel highlights. They’ll go nicely with that natural ginger color.” It sounded like a meal. Two more laps. The guy must be in training for the Hairdresser Olympics. “A half-inch off the bottom, and two-inch layers. How does that sound?”

Having no idea what he just said, or what it meant, she shrugged.

“Fabulous,” he declared and walked off.

Camryn eyed Heather in the chair next to her with a honed look meant to make her run screaming in fear. Heather beamed a nervous smile and quickly diverted her eyes.
Coward
.

The others waited in nearby seats as Jeffrey slathered and folded foil in her hair. While she sat processing, though the word she’d use was baking, Camryn wondered how far the radio signal from her head would reach. Perhaps if she tilted her head enough, alien beings could come abduct her?

Before long she was ordered to a shampoo chair, washed, rinsed, and placed back at the original station. Jeffrey’s hands flew around her head, cutting, snipping. By that point she just hoped she had hair left. He pulled out a blow dryer the army would kill to have in their possession, and proceeded to dry her hair.

Eventually, he put his arsenal down and clapped his hands. “Ta da.” He swiveled her chair around so she could look at the damage.

Just skimming her shoulders, her hair looked thicker than before. The highlights blended with her natural color, but seemed to make it appear lighter. Huh. It didn’t look bad at all. She wouldn’t need a paper bag in public.

“Oh, would you look at that,” her mother said. “You look just beautiful, Camryn.”

Camryn whipped her head around so fast she got whiplash. Never had her mother called her beautiful. If compliments were issued toward her, which were few and far between, they said things like nice, or on the rare occasion, pretty. Never beautiful.

“Thanks, Mom,” she said awkwardly, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Now, just lose some weight
. Or,
you’re no Heather, but you’ll do
.

Heather smiled. “I say we pick up Emily and go shopping. Get you some new clothes to go with your new hair.”

“Oh no.” She drew the line at shopping with Heather. By the time they were done, she’d look like Rainbow Brite had thrown up all over her.

“Oh yes,” her mother said. “Imagine what Troy will think.”

Troy.
Would he like it?
she wondered. And why would that matter? Three days until the wedding and then he’d finally be free of her. He could go back to his real women and not worry that others thought him insane for dating her.

Camryn stood and grabbed her purse. There was no sense in fighting the family. She’d appease them. No one said she actually had to
wear
the clothes.