10 Years Later (9 page)

“Cammie,” Tom said in a low, confidential voice. “You saw him, didn’t you? He who shall not be named.”

I laughed at the reference. “Yeah, I saw him.”

“And?” John dragged the word out, waiting for me to fill in the blanks, which was something I refused to do.

“And what?” I asked.

“Come on, Cammie, Los Angeles is dying to know if you saw your mystery guy and how it went. If I remember right, you weren’t even sure he was going to be there or not, right?”

“That’s right!” Tom said with a laugh. “You were freaking out that you might not be able to tell him you loved him.”

“You two are so annoying!” I said as I rolled my eyes. “But you’re right. I had no idea if he was going to show up or not.”

“But he did.” John breathed into the microphone, pretending to hang on to my every word.

“He did,” I said with a smile.

“Oh no. He wasn’t married, was he?” John asked, suddenly concerned.

“No. He’s single, thank God,” I said quickly before wishing I could suck the words back in.

Tom leaned forward in his chair before pressing his mouth almost on top of his silver mic. “So he showed up. He’s single. Does this mean that there might be a date in our Cammie’s future?”

I pretended to growl at the two grown men in front of me as I spun in my seat. “Yes. At least, I think so. He said he wanted to see me again.”

“But he hasn’t called you yet?” John let out a
tsk-tsk
, and I wondered if I was coming off sounding naive.

“It’s only been a day,” I said defensively, then actually started to worry. The last thing I ever wanted to be was one of the clueless girls who couldn’t read the signs. You know, that
he’s not that into you
.

John hummed into the mic. “Hmm, what do you think, Los Angeles? Do you think Cammie’s dream guy is blowing her off, or do you think he’ll really call?”

I tried to convince myself that they were using me and exaggerating for good radio, but I wasn’t completely persuaded. And when the intern answering the phone lines knocked on the window separating him from the booth, I felt a trickle of sweat slide between my shoulder blades.

Tom read the computer screen in front of him before nudging John and pointing at words I couldn’t see. “Oh, we have a caller on the line. He says he knows you, Cammie. Hello, caller, are you there?”

The line crackled at first, then the sound of two guys arguing briefly in the background filled the silence before one voice spoke up louder.

“I’m here. Sorry, my coworker’s being an idiot.” Dalton’s voice calmed every nerve I had, then simultaneously amplified them all at once.

John and Tom both laughed. “Tell us why you’re calling,” Tom demanded, cutting to the chase before pointing a finger at me.

“Because I’m the guy Cammie went to the reunion to see,” Dalton admitted for all of Los Angeles to hear, and my cheeks began to tingle, telling me they were turning a bright red. His tone was confident, not arrogant, simply sure of himself.

I tried to hide my face in my hands, but the guys called me out. “Cammie, is this true? Is this the guy?”

Leaning toward the hanging mic, I answered, “Yes. That’s him.” I couldn’t believe he had called the station and was on the air right now.

“Dude, why the hell didn’t you call her yesterday?” John asked as Tom spit out, “Why haven’t you asked her on a date yet?”

The guys continued to bark rapid-fire questions at Dalton, and I wished I could curl into a ball and roll off the chair, out of the booth, and away from here.

Dalton interrupted them. “Well, guys, that’s actually why I called. I’ve been working all hours and I’m exhausted. But, Cammie, I wanted to know if I could see you tonight.”

“Tonight?” I gasped as my body zinged with excited nerves.

“Yeah, tonight. I can’t wait to see you again. Please say yes.” He sounded so sincere as someone in the background yelled at him, and he covered his phone to yell back.

Tom and John both turned pleading eyes on me for an answer.

“Of course. I can’t wait to see you either.” I almost ended my response by saying his first name, and was thankful I caught myself. I wasn’t ready to give up his identity to all who could hear our broadcast.

“I’ll call you later. ’Bye, guys. Take good care of my girl.” Dalton ended the call before another word could be spoken.

Oh. My. God.

He called me his girl.

“Did you hear what he called you?” Tom asked, and I sucked my bottom lip in between my teeth and bit down hard.

“His girl? Hoo-wee!” John exclaimed. “You had your chance, Los Angeles, but you blew it. I think Cammie’s off the market! This is gonna be fun to watch!” He shot an excited glance at me, then pressed a button to start the next set of songs.

Dalton

“I can’t believe you called that damn radio station. Are you crazy?” Tucker scowled at me, but his eyes were dancing a little despite his irritation.

“Why do you even care?” I shot back. “I couldn’t sit there and listen to them talk to her like I wasn’t going to ever call her. Like I’d blown her off or something. You know they were planting that shit in her head.”

I defended my actions, as well as my inactions when it came to getting in touch with her yesterday. After leaving the reunion and working into the early hours of the morning, I’d spent Sunday in a sleep coma, only waking up once to take a piss and get a glass of water.

“Don’t call there again,” my partner said sternly. “We need to keep a low profile because of this case, okay? Don’t get all head stupid because your heart’s all mushy.”

Tucker was right, though. I needed to keep a clear head and do whatever was needed to protect our cover. Anything that even remotely hinted at what we were doing could torpedo our whole West Coast operation. We’d have to kiss Los Angeles and this case good-bye.

“You’re right, man.”

“I hope you hit star sixty-seven before you called there.”

I nodded. Dialing that code before I called a phone number meant that my number was blocked from any caller ID systems, and at this point in my career, it had become habit.

“Good. The last thing we need is some DJ calling you up every morning for the sake of their stupid show,” he pointed out as he sipped at his coffee. “And while we’re at it, make sure you tell your girl not to say your name on the radio. Could you imagine? That’s the last thing we need.”

I nodded again, making a mental note to talk to Cammie about her job and mine later. “I know, I know, okay. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll talk to her tonight and lay down some ground rules.”

“Dalton say no talky about me to radio people or girl get it.” Tucker pounded his chest like Tarzan and grunted.

“You act like I’m going to boss her around instead of have a conversation like two grown adults.”

“You’re the caveman, not me.”

• • •

Once I finished e-mailing out my photos and notes from today’s surveillance to the rest of the squad on both coasts, I typed out a text message to Cammie.

Dalton
: So, about tonight.

Cammie
: I’m listening.

Dalton
: I was thinking about Graziano’s on Fourth.

Cammie
: Do you think we could not do the whole restaurant thing for our first date?

Dalton
: Okay . . . What were you thinking then?

Cammie
: My place. If that’s okay with you.

Her place? I definitely didn’t mind her place or the idea of being alone with her, but I wanted to do this right and treat her like she deserved. My phone vibrated as another message from her came through.

Cammie
: It’s just that we have a lot of catching up to do, and I’d rather be alone and not worry about people listening in. Is that dumb?

Dalton
: Nothing you want is dumb. I’ll only agree to this on one condition.

Cammie
: I’m all ears.

Dalton
: That you let me bring the food and the wine. Do you like Thai?

Cammie
: I love it.

Dalton
: I’ll see you in an hour. Text me your address.

After parking my car in the section marked for visitors a little while later, I pulled the bottle of wine and our takeout from the passenger seat, then set out on foot to follow Cammie’s texted directions around the large condo complex. After making a left past a set of stairs, I saw the numbers 234 on a door and I headed for it.

Knocking quickly, I then shifted the items in my hands as I waited for her to let me in. When the door opened, the first thing I noticed, aside from her hazel eyes, was that her normally dark hair had a bunch of white flecks in it. Flour, maybe? And then the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies wafted at me.

Definitely flour. God, she was fucking adorable.

“Hi. Come in.” She smiled before reaching for the wine and reading the label. “This is nice, thank you. Do you hate that I didn’t want to go out?” she asked before heading down the hall.

I kicked the door closed with the heel of my shoe and followed behind her, drinking in the sight of her dressed casually in a white top and jeans. “I’m just happy to spend time with you, Cammie. I don’t care where we do it.”

This probably was a better idea, anyway. We still had a lot to talk about, and I had things I wanted to clear up before this went any further. I assumed she had the same thoughts and feelings. It would have been far less comfortable having this conversation in public, especially with constant interruptions by the wait staff.

When she set the wine on the kitchen counter, I placed our bags of takeout next to it, then reached around her waist and pulled her to me. Leaning down, I placed a kiss on her mouth, resisting the urge to rip off all her clothes and fuck her on the kitchen floor. Maybe I was a damn caveman, but clearly I was a caveman with restraint.

I reached for her hair, gently tugging at a strand with some white on it. “You have flour in your hair.”

“I do?” She grabbed the strand from my fingers and looked at it. “That’s embarrassing. I baked earlier. I made us cookies.”

“I know. I can smell them. I want to eat them all.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Not until after dinner, Mr. Thomas. I’ll be right back. And then I’ll give you the grand tour,” she said with a laugh before she disappeared into what I assumed was the bathroom.

Scanning the counter, I tried to locate the culprits. As I turned around, I noticed a plate stacked with chocolate chip cookies on the bar. I reached for one and took a giant chocolate-filled bite. It was heaven. My woman knew how to bake a cookie.

“Okay,” she called out, her voice startling me as I shoved the remaining piece of cookie into my mouth. “Oh my God, Dalton! Did you eat a cookie already?”

“I’m a grown man, damn it!” I mumbled as I swallowed, embarrassed at being caught. “I didn’t want to wait until after dinner.”

She laughed as she shook her head and groaned. “You’re such a child.”

“I’m sure you didn’t eat any cookie dough while you baked them, did you?”

“What kind of person would I be if I didn’t?”

“Exactly. So, don’t yell at me,” I said as I stuck my bottom lip out in a pretend pout.

“You’re in big trouble,” she teased, and I wanted to tell her that it was okay. I was willing to get in all sorts of trouble with her as long as she doled out the punishment.

“I think you’re the one who’s in trouble,” I teased back, and her cheeks flushed.

“Let me show you around. It’s pretty spacious, so try not to get lost.” Cammie giggled and I followed behind her, watching her ass swing back and forth in her jeans. “This is the kitchen. And the combination living room/dining room.” She waved her hand to indicate the large main area.

I glanced around at the space, noting the couch and a single recliner. Artwork on the walls looked like Italian landscapes, and candles were placed tastefully here and there in whatever the hell you called the candleholder shit thing. It wasn’t my thing, but I still found it pretty.

My gaze landed on an entertainment center that was a man’s dream. A giant flat-screen television sat surrounded by stereo equipment and speakers of all sizes. “How big is your TV? And do you seriously have surround sound in here?”

Cammie raised an eyebrow at me. “It’s fifty-six inches. And hell yes, I have surround sound. I love my electronics.”

My heart beat a little faster at her words. I would have married her right now simply based on that statement alone.

“Come on.” She beckoned for me to follow as she went back down the hallway toward the front door. After making a quick right, she waved her arm. “The bathroom is to the right and straight ahead is my room.”

I moved past her and entered her most private place without asking—her bedroom. While her condo wasn’t that large, her bedroom was pretty big. “Walk-in closet?” I asked, pointing at the closed door in the corner of the room.

“Yeah. It’s seriously huge in there. This place is so weird.” She walked over to the door and pulled it open.

Peering inside, I noticed that the closet looked custom made, with built-in shelving for shoes and whatever other crap you’re supposed to put in those things. “This closet is massive. I could live in there.”

“You wanna live in my closet?” She was obviously teasing, but her voice cracked a little, and I turned to face her.

“I’d live anywhere with you,” I said softly before leaning down and planting a kiss on her lips.

“Stop distracting me,” she said playfully before spinning in the center of her room, her arms extended. “You’ve now seen my whole house.” Suddenly she stopped and stared at me. “Oh, wait! The backyard.”

“You have a backyard?” I was surprised, because since she was in a condo, I’d assumed she couldn’t possibly have a yard.

Again I followed her as we walked down the hallway, past the kitchen and toward the sliding glass door. She pulled back the blinds to reveal a fenced-in cement patio.

“This is pretty cool,” I said, noting the gas grill in the corner and the table-and-chair setup in the center with a giant umbrella.

“I sit out here a lot,” she said with a huge smile. “I love it.”

I smiled back as I imagined her enjoying the private space, soaking up the sun. “Not to be a dick or anything, but we’d better eat before the food gets cold.”

“Geez, Dalton, you’re such a dick.”

“I know,” I teased back, and it felt so comfortable.

Being around Cammie was like stepping back into the past, yet still remaining in the present. Nothing about this was like being on a normal first date. I had jitters, but they weren’t the typical first-date jitters. There was no faking who we were, for the most part, because we already knew. I still wanted to impress Cammie, to put my best foot forward, but not the way a guy wanted to impress a stranger. Cammie didn’t need any trickery, or any fakeness. She needed the real Dalton, and that was who she’d get.

Cammie handed me a corkscrew and two glasses. “Will you open this while I plate the food?”

“Of course.” I smiled as I reached for the bottle. I poured two glasses as Cammie divided the food and placed it on two large plates, then carried them out of the kitchen and toward the only real table in the place.

Shit. I meant to bring her flowers. Next time.

She placed the plates down on opposite sides of the table so we faced each other. I moved to put the wineglasses down as well before sitting as she lit two candles.

“Thank you so much for the food. And the wine,” she said with a small smile playing on her lips as she settled into her seat.

“Thank you for the cookie before dinner.” I raised my glass in the air with a smile, and said, “Here’s to eating dessert first, and to new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings.” She touched her glass to mine, and we both sipped before digging in. “Oh, this is so good,” she said with an appreciative moan after swallowing her first bite. “Where’s it from?”

“That little shop around the corner.”

“Where the grocery store is?”

“Yep. Two doors down, I think.”

“I definitely don’t eat Thai enough,” she said before taking another bite. “So, how was work today?”

“Busy. There’s a lot going on with this case. Oh, that reminds me.” I lifted a finger as I swallowed. “Since what I’m working on is rather sensitive—” I started to say before she finished my sentence.

“You don’t want me to mention your name or what you do on the air, right?” She grinned at me, her eyes twinkling in the candlelight.

“Exactly. I shouldn’t have even called in this morning. That was careless of me.”

She looked away from me for a second before meeting my eyes again. “I was glad you called in.”

“I was too, but my partner gave me a heap of shit after I hung up.”

She nodded. “That makes sense. I would never mention your name, especially since it’s unique and I’ve never met another Dalton. But I won’t talk about anything that could get you in trouble. And the guys won’t either.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

She sipped her wine. “Of course. I never want to do anything that affects your job or your safety. But I have to admit that I’m curious. Is there anything you can tell me about what you’re working on?”

I pondered her question for a minute, thinking about what was technically okay to reveal to her and what wasn’t. The bottom line was that I trusted Cammie, and I’d probably tell her anything she asked.

“It has to do with a large organized crime family back east.” I shifted in my seat, a little uncomfortable now that I had actually begun talking about it. “One of the guys is out here right now, and so we’re following him around.”