informed him of her big plans for a career and a future that didn’t include Crystal Point or the small-town police officer who wanted to marry her one day.
But right now, she didn’t look like the Grace he’d come to resent. It was easier that way, easier not thinking about her perfectly beautiful face and body. And yet his skin felt tight watching her, waiting for her to speak. She was off balance, askew, and he knew it wasn’t the champagne doing damage.
It churned something inside him, thinking he was responsible for the kind of hazy, almost lost look on her face as she stared into the microphone. He smiled again, different this time, without mockery, with only the intent to calm her obviously fractured nerves. She met his gaze and they remained like that for a moment, linked by some invisible thread that had nothing to do with the searing kisses they’d shared, or the years of thinly veiled antagonism that had come to define their relationship. He saw her relax, watched as her jaw loosened and then she began to speak.
“Tonight is a celebration,” she said and then swallowed hard, as though the words were difficult to say. “Of love. Of trust. Of the commitment between two people.”
She went on to talk about the bride and groom, speaking clearly and concisely as she wished the newlyweds a long and happy life. Cameron wondered if she meant it. He’d never heard her speak about love before. When she was done she returned to her seat and didn’t spare him another look.
Dessert was served after that and Cameron pushed the sugary sweet around on his plate. The dancing started again and the woman beside him dug him in the ribs with her elbow, but he was in no mood for that either. He declined her invitation and managed a smile when she scooted off her chair. Mary-Jayne Preston was a pretty brunette with amazing green eyes—and she was Grace’s younger sister.
Grace…
She didn’t like him. He didn’t like her. But he’d wanted her and loved her most of his adult life. He thought he was over it. Thought he had it under control.
Jackass…
“Why do you look like you want to be somewhere else?”
Cameron turned his head. Noah Preston. His best friend. And Grace’s older brother. “You know me and weddings,” he replied casually.
The other man ducked into the empty chair beside him. “Are you tempted to take the walk yourself?” Noah asked.
He shrugged to disguise the truth. Because he did want to get married. He wanted a wife and kids and the whole deal. Cameron longed for a family of his own. He was thirty-six years old and had dated a succession of women, none he saw for more than a few months. And none who invaded his deepest dreams like Grace Preston.
He’d built a house designed for a family and lived in it alone. Dated women he knew weren’t going to figure permanently in his life. For a long time he’d avoided thinking about marriage and family. Once Grace left Crystal Point he’d pushed his focus into his career as a police officer and tried to forget about her. And their ongoing resentment for one another had fueled that focus. But now he wanted more. More than an empty house when he came home after a long shift at work, more than an empty bed. Or one filled occasionally with someone he barely knew.
He wanted what his parents had. He wanted what his best friend had.
“It’s not as bad as you think,” Noah said easily. “Actually, it’s the smartest move I ever made. You just need to find the right woman.”
Noah had married Callie Jones eight months earlier and the stunning, blue-eyed, California horse-riding instructor had transformed his friend’s life. His four children had a new mother and Noah had the love of a woman he adored. And with Callie’s brother, Scott, now married to Evie, it seemed like everyone around him was getting their happily-ever-after.
Just not me.
It made him think of green eyes. Grace’s eyes. Noah would have a fit if he knew what he was thinking. Or what he’d been doing with her down by the beach.
“I never said it was bad.”
Noah laughed. “I’m sure there’s some sweet, easygoing girl out there who—”
“I don’t want easygoing,” he said swiftly. “Or sweet.”
Grace again. Because Grace wasn’t either of those things. She was smart and independent and reserved and coolly argumentative and…
And she’s the only woman I’ve ever wanted.
Noah laughed again. “Can’t say I blame you. I love my wife’s spirit.” There was a gleam in his friend’s eyes. “Makes life more interesting.”
“I’ll bet,” Cameron said agreeably.
“Were you with Grace earlier?”
Cameron shot a glance at his friend. “For a minute,” he said and pushed aside the nagging guilt hitting him between the shoulder blades.
“Something’s going on with her,” Noah said. “She said she’s taking some time off work. But she’s not talking about why, not even to Evie or our mother. Maybe breaking up with that attorney has something to do with it.”
Cameron remembered what she’d said about the suit and sensed she wasn’t all that broken up about it. But what she’d said about not belonging—now that, he was sure, had something to do with her return home. Because it was completely unlike Grace to say a thing like that. Noah was right—something was going on with her. The Grace he knew didn’t show vulnerability. She was ice-cool and resilient. At eighteen she’d walked away from him and Crystal Point and moved to New York and had been there ever since, returning once or twice a year at the most. That was the Grace Preston he understood. Not the vulnerable one moment, hotter than Hades the next kind of woman who’d kissed him back like there was no tomorrow.
Wanting her had made every other woman he’d known pale by comparison. And now he knew one thing—he either had to get Grace out of his head for good…or get Grace in his bed and in his life.
She was home, on his turf. Maybe he had a shot. The way she’d kissed him gave him some optimism. That kind of response wasn’t fake. And he knew Grace. She wouldn’t pretend. Whatever was going on with her, Cameron was determined to find out. She’d resist and fight. She’d make things impossible. She’d cut him down with icy barbs and indifference.
Suddenly that seemed like one hell of an interesting challenge.
Cameron’s gaze centered on Grace. She was with Evie, talking close. His shirt collar got uncomfortably tight and irritation uncurled in his chest. Because he would bet right down to his boots that they were talking about him.
“So, what happened?”
Grace tried to escape her sister’s viselike grip on her wrist but failed. Evie was persistent when she wanted something. She loved her sister and Evie was the one person she could really talk to. But not about this. Not about Cameron.
“Nothing. We were just talking.”
Evie’s dramatic brows rose. “Well, I imagine you were doing something with your tongues.”
Grace flushed and tacked
