To Catch a Camden (11 page)

It was obvious that he took the blame and was not only embarrassed himself, but ashamed, too, and Gia wasn’t sure what to say. She settled on, “It seems like you’ve learned a lesson.”

He laughed humorlessly. “That’s what everybody is hoping.”

“But you aren’t sure?”

“I’m trying to lay low. Change my pattern. Turn over a new leaf. But...I don’t know... My family is always trying to find me a
regular
girl—that’s what they call them. But somehow the
regular
girls they fix me up with either bore me to tears or...I guess I’m the king of losing interest. And then there I am, back again finding someone more...colorful.”

“Tattooed, pierced, chanting, head-shaving, dirt-eating, snake-charming psychics,” she concluded.

He laughed and Gia was glad to see that she’d been able to lift his spirits. “Who said anybody ate dirt?”

“Food police, dirt eating—it just seemed possible for you.”

He chuckled again, shaking his head at her summary and looking more intently at her.

She had the sense that injecting some humor had helped to draw him out of himself, that he wasn’t lost in his own demons any longer, because there was a renewed sparkle to his oh-so-blue eyes as his smile turned slightly wicked.

Which Gia knew meant that he had a comeback for her.

“So I guess somewhere under that good-girl exterior of yours must be a little evil, since the curse of the
regular
girl never seems to kick in when it comes to you.... What’s your secret, Grant? Maybe you’re the dirt eater?”

Gia laughed. “It’s the real reason I became a botanist—when I’m potting plants I just stuff myself with handfuls of it.”

“I knew it!” he said in mock victory. “I knew there had to be something!”

“And there it is—my deepest, darkest secret...” she said, playing along.

He narrowed his gorgeous eyes at her and leaned in slightly closer to look into hers. “You may not eat dirt, but there’s still a little evil in there.... You aren’t fooling me...I see it,” he said suspiciously.

Gia just smiled, terrified by how much she liked him and unable to curb it even when she tried.

Then he closed the gap between them to kiss her.

It didn’t take any more than that for her to stop trying completely. To give in to what she seemed to want all the time now. To just be kissed by him. To just kiss him back.

His left hand sluiced under her hair to the back of her head to brace her. When his lips parted, so did hers as she let her head rest in that cradle.

He took her hand in his, holding it, rubbing it with his thumb as she got her first introduction to his tongue.

Inviting and enticing and persuasive, he coaxed her to play and Gia did, volleying and toying and fencing right along with him.

There was just something about him....

Every texture, every taste, every nuance was exactly right. Exactly what she wanted, exactly when she wanted it.

He used her hand to pull her nearer. Then he laid it to his chest and let go of it so he could wrap his arm around her.

It was almost strange how well she fit there. So well she just wanted to burrow into him as her palm absorbed the heat of his body and the hardness of his pectorals to add to pleasures that seemed to be mounting by the minute.

Pleasures that still centered on their mouths that were locked together, sealed in kissing fueled by more kissing, by tongues that frolicked with each other.

Gia was faintly aware of the sounds of the waterfall nearby, but it only seemed to carry her along, to draw her even more serenely into kissing Derek, into being kissed by him so thoroughly that she felt like it was all she would ever need. Kissing him and kissing him. Being held in his strong arms, against his broad chest now, with her hand the only thing keeping them from coming together seamlessly.

She had no idea how much time passed while they were making out. At some point it occurred to her that it had been a very long time, and that it was late because even through her closed eyes she could tell that the moon had gotten high in the sky to add a brighter, whiter glow to the golden illumination of the patio lights.

She needed to stop this, she told herself. To go home. To talk some sense into herself....

As much as she really, really didn’t want to, she knew she had to. So her tongue became a little shy, a little more difficult to catch, and she pushed against the stone wall of Derek’s chest and drew back almost imperceptibly.

He didn’t want to let her go, because he only held her tighter, kissed her more thoroughly.

But just long enough to convey his reluctance before he conceded to the message she’d given, ending that kiss only to kiss her again—and again and again—with restraint he was clearly having to work for.

Then he stopped altogether and just pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her and held her with her cheek to his chest while her own arms somehow went around him, too.

“Yeah, no doubt about it—there has to be a wild streak hidden in you somewhere calling to me...” he murmured then, into her hair.

But there wasn’t a wild streak in her, and Gia knew it. She just didn’t tell him because it felt so fantastic to be held like that by him and she couldn’t ruin that one moment with the truth.

Instead, she let herself have a few minutes in his arms, against him, before she gently unnestled herself from the cocoon and said, “I have to go....”

Like with the kiss, he didn’t accept that instantly, tightening his grip for a moment before giving in. But when he gave in, Gia stood without hesitation because she knew if she didn’t she was too likely to kiss him again.

Derek got to his feet, too, cupping one of those big hands of his around the back of her neck to walk her through the house.

“There won’t be dirt on the menu, but what would you say to going to Sunday dinner at my grandmother’s house with me tomorrow night?” he asked just as they reached his front door.

A big Camden family dinner.

Like a big Grant family dinner.

Where she’d be an outsider....

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, her voice a bit gravelly from the kissing.

“My grandmother wants to talk to you about the Bronsons’ health needs,” he said. “And it just occurred to me that tomorrow would be the perfect time. She has connections with the best hospitals, the best doctors, the best care and management for geriatrics. But it’s GiGi who has the inside line on all that stuff, not me, and you know the Bronsons’ conditions, so it’s really something that’s better talked about without me as a go-between.”

As much as Gia wanted to see him, she didn’t want it to be at dinner with another big, close-knit family. She knew all too well what that was like and she wanted no part of it.

But she could hardly refuse when he put it in terms of helping Larry and Marion.

Still, she had to try....

“Couldn’t we meet and talk about it some other time? It doesn’t seem like a family dinner is—”

“There’s always a ton of people around—not just family, never just family. And everybody mingles and talks—you and I and GiGi can just take a few minutes to chat as part of that, and then we can have a nice meal and I’ll take you home.... Come on, you’ll like GiGi—she’s not too different from Marion—and you’ll still have your whole Sunday before that free because hors d’oeuvres and drinks are at five, dinner is at six.”

And she’d be with him again.

And she wanted to be.

And she knew she shouldn’t want it or give in to it.

But she also wanted Larry and Marion to have the best care they could get.

Then, still standing at his front door, his hand still cupping her nape, he pulled her toward him as he leaned down and kissed her again.

As if
that
would help her decide!

And yet it did. Because when he stopped kissing her she said, “Okay. I guess...”

“Not enthusiastic, but I’ll take it.”

He kissed her again—the play of his tongue reminding her of their kisses on the patio—before he finally ended it and took his hand away.

“I’ll pick you up a little before five. Comfortable, casual, but no jeans,” he warned.

Gia nodded, trying to recover from the effects of that last kiss.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said, remembering her manners belatedly as he walked her out to her car and she opened the driver’s door, looking up at him again then.

His handsome face slid into a slow grin and he kissed her one more time before he said, “Drive safe.”

“I will,” she assured him, getting behind the wheel.

But that assurance was false, because as she put the key in the ignition and started the engine she realized that while she might have been careful about the wine, she hadn’t realized that the kissing was even more heady, and she could only hope to focus enough to get herself home.

Where she didn’t have a doubt that she’d relive the feel of him holding her, kissing her, right up until the minute she fell asleep.

Chapter Eight

“I
can’t believe I have to do this tonight,” Gia said to Tyson on Sunday morning.

Tyson and Minna had broken up and he’d invited Gia upstairs for pancakes to tell her the news. The relationship had burned hot and fast, then fizzled, and he was taking it in stride. He’d just wanted Gia to know since she’d introduced them and there was the potential of her running into Minna at work. He’d also wanted her to be aware that there were no hard feelings on either his or Minna’s part.

“It was just, you know, a good time,” he’d concluded before asking what he’d missed while he was preoccupied. That was when Gia had told him that she’d agreed to go to the Camden Sunday dinner this evening with Derek.

“I’m kicking myself because I know it’s bound to be just like the Grants’ family dinners,” she went on. “I’ll walk in and get the squint-eye like I’m a geek who’s wandered into cool-kid territory. Most of them won’t bother to talk to me. The ones who do will be rude or nasty or will grill me like a captured spy. No matter what, I won’t be good enough for them and I’ll just want to be anywhere but there.”

Tyson didn’t refute any of that. Instead, he said, “At least you know going in that there’s one thing different—you won’t be
trying
to fit in or be accepted. You
are
an outsider with them. The Grants still treated you that way even after you’d been one of them for seven years.”

“Still, I’m dreading it....” Except for the fact that she’d be with Derek, and she was worried about that for other reasons.

“Sharon went to a couple of the Camden Sunday dinners,” Tyson told her. “She loved them—”

“I thought she complained about them.”

“She did. But it was the fact that there
was
a mandatory Sunday dinner every week that she didn’t like. She said the dinners themselves were good—fantastic food, booze, a big party. And you know Sharon—a lot of people means an audience, and she goes in like a lounge act and loves that. She just didn’t like the Sunday after Sunday routine.”

“Apparently she wasn’t the only one of Derek’s old girlfriends to use the Sunday dinners as a forum or to make a spectacle,” Gia said, going on to tell him about the head shaving and the food policing.

“So it wasn’t just nutcase Sharon and the two weirdos after her, this guy
does
go for—”

“He calls them unique, colorful or edgy.” Gia supplied the terminology for her friend. “But your cousin and her friends were not his only venture into—”

“Wackjobs?”

“And bad girls who have led him astray,” Gia added. But she decided suddenly that she wasn’t going to tell Tyson about Derek’s Las Vegas wedding and the subsequent disaster. Which was a little odd, because she’d always told Tyson everything and it made her feel slightly disloyal that she didn’t.

But seeing how the event had affected Derek also made her feel protective of him and of what he’d confided in her, and that feeling won out.

Which only compounded what worried her in regards to Derek....

Tyson passed her the syrup as he said, “I’m betting that it won’t be like the get-togethers with the Grants anyway. When you walked into any social situation involving Elliot’s family, he forgot you were alive the minute he hit the door, but I don’t think that’s going to happen with this guy.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Gia said, because it was actually what she expected.

“I don’t know. Derek doesn’t seem to want you out of his sight no matter where you are.”

“What do you mean he doesn’t want me out of his sight?” And why did the mere suggestion please her?

“He keeps an eye on you every minute—don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

She hadn’t. She’d thought she was the one always trying to catch glimpses of him. “I don’t think so,” she said, voicing her doubt again.

“Oh, yeah,” Tyson insisted. “When we painted Larry and Marion’s house, the minute he found out he wouldn’t be working with you, he did some fast maneuvering to make sure he would. And every time you moved two steps away at the barbecue, he looked around till he spotted you again. The same at the yard sale. Plus, he hangs around after we’re done doing whatever we’re doing for Larry and Marion—he’s always the last one to go. Unless I miss my guess, he’s got it bad for you, G. He probably just wants you at this dinner so he can have you there himself.”

“He said it was so I could talk to his grandmother about Larry and Marion’s health care.”

Tyson snickered. “I’m sure he did,” he said knowingly.

“I’m not his type, Ty,” she contended, even more convinced of that after hearing what Derek had said the night before.

“You’re not a wackjob or a nutcase or completely loony tunes, no. And you’re a long way from a bad girl,” he added. “But there’s a lot more to you and it’s all great and unless I’m mistaken, ol’ Derek Camden has taken notice.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Gia claimed, emphasizing to herself that it
needed
not to matter.

“Yeah, he’s probably still more like Elliot than
not
like Elliot,” Tyson agreed.

“You don’t like him....”

“Nah, I like him fine. But one-on-one I liked Elliot, too. I just didn’t like him as your husband. He was lousy at it and his family treated you like dirt.”

“Plus, Derek isn’t the kind of guy who settles down with someone like me to have a normal life and a couple of normal kids. He goes for the thrill ride, and that’s not me.”

“Wow! Why do you sound so sad about that?”

“I don’t!”

“Yes, you do! You were all perky when I said he keeps his eye on you, but that stuff about how wrong the two of you are for each other? It’s like you just burst your own bubble.”

Maybe she had.

But it was a bubble that needed to be burst.

“You
do
like him,” Tyson said more carefully, repeating what he’d accused her of the very first time they’d talked about Derek. Only now it wasn’t merely a question; there was some conviction in it.

“I do,” she broke down and confessed. “Maybe I have a thing for bad boys.”

“Maybe you do...” Tyson said ominously, under his breath.

“I know better, though,” she swore. “I’m not going to let it go any further....”

Tyson’s eyebrows shot up. “How far have you let it go?”

Gia made a face. “You know...just some kissing....” An understatement when the kissing was so fabulous that merely recalling it made her toes curl.

“God, be careful, G...” Tyson said with a voice full of concern.

“You’re supposed to say, ‘Sure you know better, Gia, and of course you won’t let it go any further
.
’”

Tyson nodded, but he didn’t say the lines she’d given him. Instead, he said, “Hey, I know how it is—you meet somebody and things click and even if you know better, that doesn’t make them unclick. Just be careful,” he repeated. “Maybe mess around with him, but don’t get into more than that. A little fun, a little...release.... Just enough to boost your ego and remind you how you are much more than Elliot Grant deserved. But other than that—”

“I know.”

“Can you do just that?” Tyson asked as if he didn’t think she could.

She shrugged. “You can,” she said as if that meant she could, too.

“Yeah, I just did with Minna. She just did with me. But you... I don’t know, G.... You haven’t had anybody since Elliot. It could be a rebound thing—and I don’t want to see you just close your eyes and fall....”

“My eyes are open,” she said.

“And how clearly are they seeing?”

“Clearly enough to see that Derek has close ties with a big family that’s done really lousy things to other people. Clearly enough to see that Derek could very well be like Elliot and be more surface than substance. Clearly enough to see that he’s been through a lot of women and the only ones who keep his interest for any amount of time are nothing like me. Clearly enough to see that I’m a babe in the woods when it comes to dating again and am not ready to do anything serious.”

Just not clearly enough to see her way past how terrific looking Derek was. Or how sexy. Or how good it felt to be with him. Or how wonderful it was to have him hold her and kiss her. Or how much she just wanted to be with him again the minute they were apart....

And even though she didn’t say all that, she knew that Tyson could tell, because his expression was concerned and helpless.

“Just be careful,” he said a third time. “Just get in, hook up, get out—can you do that to get it out of your system?”

Gia laughed, thinking about how much more than kissing she’d wanted the night before.

“Maybe,” she said. “I can tell you that it isn’t white dresses and wedding chapels and picket fences and bouncing babies that are on my mind when I’m with him, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, geez, you do want him,” Tyson said somewhat forlornly. “Then go for it, I guess. But if you start picturing white dresses and wedding chapels and picket fences and bouncing babies, run for the hills!”

“I promise.”

* * *

For Gia, the Camden family Sunday dinner was a combination of good and bad.

Derek
did
stay by her side through the entire thing. That was a vast improvement over how Elliot had treated her at similar gatherings.

But merely being faced with the big, obviously close-knit family was intimidating to her.

She gave the Camdens credit for going out of their way to be friendly and welcoming, because they were. Unfailingly. But there were so many of them. And after being introduced, after chatting warmly, when talk would turn even for brief moments to things between Derek and other members of his family that she couldn’t participate in, Gia flashed back to Grant family gatherings in which she’d been excluded and felt invisible.

She also gave the Camdens credit, because not a single pocket of conversation had stopped when she came within hearing range. There weren’t any withering, disapproving looks cast her way. There was no indication that there was anything secretive going on.

But Gia was still very aware of the fact that she was not a part of things when the family fussed over the pregnant Jani, or everyone teased the newly married matriarch, Georgianna, or focused on the antics of Lang’s three-year-old son, Carter, or bantered about when weddings should be held for the engaged couples among them.

So while the whole affair lacked the ugly overtones that had come with the Grants, still—despite every effort by Derek and the rest of his family to put her at ease—Gia just couldn’t relax or enjoy herself. And she was never as relieved as when it was finally over with and she and Derek were walking to his car.

“Okay, now breathe...” he joked, sounding like a birthing coach.

“Haven’t I been?”

“
Have
you been?” he challenged. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anybody at Sunday dinner who was more tense. The whole time. And I haven’t seen you like that before. Are we that scary?”

They hadn’t been scary at all. It was just her. And her own baggage. So she said, “No. Did I seem scared?”

He opened the passenger door of his sports car for her to get in, frowning rather than answering her.

Once he went around and got behind the wheel, Gia veered from the topic by saying, “It was really nice of your grandmother to offer to get Larry and Marion in to her primary-care physician even though he isn’t ordinarily accepting new patients. I’d like it if they saw someone new. The doctor they’ve been using acts like she doesn’t want to be bothered with them.”

“Will they switch doctors? Especially to a doctor a Camden arranges for them?”

“I think they’ll be glad for better care no matter how it comes about.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“And the food was great!” she continued, trying to distract him when he looked at her out of the corner of his eye and she knew he was still thinking about how uncomfortable she’d been. “You’re grandmother’s homemade biscuits were better than any I’ve ever had.”

“She loves it when anyone likes her cooking—”

“It was nice of her to send some home. I was kind of surprised that she cooks, though.”

“She does everything. Farm girl, remember?”

“I just wouldn’t think that someone in her position would—”

“Her position?” he repeated with some humor in his tone. “That would make her laugh—she’d be the first one to say that she isn’t the queen of England.”

When they pulled into her driveway, Gia was relieved that she’d effectively filled the short drive to her house with small talk.

Derek stopped the engine and got out, and so did Gia, not waiting for him to come around to her side.

As they went up to her house, he nodded toward her porch swing. Her porch formed an L around the front and one side of her house, and the swing hung from chains hooked into the porch’s roof. It faced the street at the rear-most portion of the L, between the side of her house and the Bronsons’ garage. It was so far back from street lights and in such deep shadow without her porch light on that it was almost completely hidden in darkness. But he’d been there when it wasn’t dark and seen it.

“It’s a nice night and it’s early yet,” he said. “How about we sit out here for a little while? Or did you have something you needed to get done tonight for work tomorrow?”

“No, nothing. That sounds good,” she said, realizing only in that moment that she hadn’t thought beyond the dinner and so hadn’t considered whether or not to ask him in. Had he not made the suggestion she might have been at risk of having him say good-night at the door and leave.

And she wouldn’t have liked that.

“Can I make coffee or pour some iced tea? Or I have soda,” she offered, beginning to come back to herself now that she was on home turf.

“No, thanks. Just go in and put your biscuits away. I’ll wait out here for you.”

“I’ll be right back,” she answered as she unlocked and opened her front door.

Inside, out of his sight, she finally did take a few of those deep breaths he’d recommended.

Then she popped into her guest bathroom for a quick check in the mirror. No mascara smudges. Blush still adding color to her cheekbones. Left to fall loose, her crazy curly hair was still as tamed as it ever got. And the khaki slacks, white tank top and tailored red shirt she wore open all remained wrinkle-free.