They were always wild together, but this was an atavism. It was the first man who had ever fucked the first woman. Ever felt her tighten and tremble around him. Ever felt her fall apart in his arms. And his love was the first heartbeat. The first time a man’s eyes met a woman’s. The first time one half ever found the other. The relentless pace of Cam’s body slamming into hers created fire, stoked to a flame so high it consumed her. Burned away fear and left only need. In those stolen seconds, only need.
Jo’s orgasm was an earthquake, a seismic wave dividing her into tectonic faults. Her head tossed against the wall, restless. One of Cam’s arms held beneath her butt. He slammed his other hand to the wall and dropped his head beside her.
“God, yes, Jo.” His breath came hot in her ear. “Shit, so…Fuck.”
He was hot and stiff, a desperate, wet slide in and out. He shuddered against her, tremoring through her like a ripple across water. Their breaths came heavy and fast, slowing with their heartbeats. He let her legs fall to the floor, brushing his hands over the muscles in her thighs. His hands wandered up her body until they reached her face, cupping it. Lifting her lips to meet his.
“You are the best thing I’ve ever had.” He set his forehead against hers, the muscles of his throat working against the emotion roughening his voice. “Please don’t forget I love you.”
“Keep telling me.” Jo slid her hand into his hair, scraping her nails across his scalp. “We can do this. Just let me help.”
Cam looked at her, neither confirming nor denying. He led her to the bathroom. In the shower, he didn’t leave an inch of her unattended. The last traces of the blue paint slid off her skin and down the drain. Jo wanted to chase the color. She wanted to wear his love as a stain over her skin, over her heart.
“Are you cold?” Cam asked, going to the drawers he’d cleared for the nightgowns she never wore.
“No, I don’t want anything between us.” She ran her eyes over the sculpted lines of his lean body. “Just us.”
He nodded, pulling back the covers and climbing in, opening his arms. She snuggled close, relishing the feel of his warm flesh. She placed her hand over his heart.
“Is this still mine? Is your heart still in my hands?”
“Don’t doubt it.” They’d turned off the lamps, and he left it to the moon to show her the truth on his face. “No matter what happens, promise me you won’t doubt it.”
She tried to stay awake, not wanting to lose a minute with him and afraid the demons in his dreams would return. She fought fatigue as long as she could, waiting for his breath to even into sleep. It never did, but she fell asleep in his arms, and she felt safe.
S
ometimes the heart knows first. Before the mind can formulate thoughts or the senses grasp, the heart immediately apprehends. A senseless intuition. Jo woke up the next morning with an ache in her chest. It wasn’t unusual to wake up alone. If anything, waking up with Cam hard and warm at her back was rare. This felt different. An electric storm crackled around Cam. His energy, sometimes dark and sometimes bright, but always inexorable, drew you in. They had magnetized each other, and when she awoke, she knew something was missing. Someone was missing.
She took her time sitting up in bed, her senses poking around in the quiet of the cottage for any signs of him. Cam was often painting by the time she woke up, so she slipped on her robe and padded barefoot to the studio. No sign of him. Sometimes he’d catch the sunrise by the river, taking photos he’d use later. Jo headed out to the patio, eyeing the patch of riverbank Cam usually claimed, but it stood empty. Even in his artistic throes, he would always have a pot of coffee brewed for her by the time she woke up, but no aroma drifted from the kitchen.
The October mornings were just getting cool, but a slow freeze started in Jo’s belly and circulated through her veins, sludging toward her heart. She stepped into the kitchen like it was a cemetery, heart heavy, feet tentative. Almost immediately she spotted the folded note propped against the coffeepot. With shaking hands she opened it, and with panic suffusing every cell, she read.
Jo,
You know I have to go. I’m haunted by a dead man in my dreams every night, but he’s not my greatest fear. My greatest fear is hurting you. Last night was too close. I know you trust me, but I don’t trust myself with you right now. Not after what happened. I won’t risk you. This isn’t up for debate or negotiation, because you’re better at both of those than I am. You’ve wanted me to talk to someone, to get help—well, you’re getting your wish. I’ve never wanted to talk about what happened, but if there’s a chance it will help me make some kind of peace, I’ll do it. And it may not feel like it right now, but I love you too much to stay.
I don’t know how long it will be before I come back, but I hope when I do, I’ll be better. I hope when I do, you’re still here. If I were selfless, I’d tell you not to wait for me. But I’m not selfless, and I’m telling you that if you move on, it will gut me. I know you’ve waited years. Can you give me a little more time? I want to love you in the light, without the shadow of a monster hovering over us. Let me do this.
Don’t doubt my love.
Cam
The paper fluttered to the floor, falling from Jo’s numb fingers. For a moment, she felt unmoored. Uncertain, but then her natural instincts kicked in. He wasn’t thinking clearly. He thought this was best, but he was wrong. She would track him down and convince him. Jo was already plotting her next steps. Bennett Enterprises had a private investigator on retainer. She’d call Walsh and check all the flights. If Cam had left the country, he would have used his passport. That was a red flag she could track right away. She had pulled on yoga pants and her Duke sweatshirt, ready to start the manhunt when the doorbell rang. Maybe it was the cleaning lady.
“Daddy?” Jo stepped back, pulling the door open wider and pushing her surprise aside. “Come on in.”
Her father stepped into the living room, dressed casually in one of his Harvard sweatshirts and jeans.
“I didn’t even know you were in town.” She pointed a thumb toward the kitchen. “Want some coffee?”
“I just got in from Boston an hour ago.” Her father settled onto the leather couch, leaning his elbows on his knees and glancing up at her. “I flew back early to check on you.”
“On me? Why would you…?”
That dirty, rotten, low-down lover of hers.
“Cam called you, didn’t he?” Jo perched on the arm of the nearby love seat. “He told you he’s gone.”
“He told me everything, Jo.” Concern weighted her father’s brows. “He asked me to make sure you don’t try to find him.”
“Of course I’ll find him.” Jo bounced her foot, so ready to be done with this and under way. “Can we talk about this later, Daddy? I need to get on this.”
“You will not.” Jo had heard that kind of iron in her father’s voice before, but rarely directed at her.
Jo stood up and placed her hands on her hips, a stance the men in her family knew meant not to mess with her.
“You said yourself I’m a grown woman.”
“Yes, you are, so act like it.”
The words stung like a slap.
“Excuse me?”
“Jo, this is serious. Cam held a loaded gun to your head last night.”
“It’s not how it sounds. I can explain.”
“Cam already explained. I know what happened, and I support his decision to get help and to keep you safe.”
“This doesn’t feel like support to me. It feels like you giving up on him because of a little bump in the road.”
“A bump in the— Jo, a loaded gun held to your head is a detour, not a bump.”
“So you’re really giving up on him.” Jo slipped some iron of her own into the next words. “What would your sister do if she were alive? Would Aunt Kris just abandon Cam when he’s at his lowest?”
“That’s not fair. It’s not the same.”
“The answer is no, she wouldn’t. She never gave up on him, and neither will I.”
“Allowing him some space is not giving up. He’s not some toy you can throw a tantrum about not having when you want him.”
“I can’t believe you just said that to me.”
“Believe it. He doesn’t need to be ‘had’ right now. He needs to wrestle with some issues that have been chasing him for years.” His voice and face softened in synch. “Let him, honey.”
It started at her mouth with just a wobble, a tremble of her lips. Then her hands joined in, fingers shaking until she had to cram the emotion into her fists. She was imploding, but everything wanted out. Curses, screams, sobs. Every expression of this hurt was trapped inside her body and wanted out, but she could only allow herself tears.
“Aw, honey.”
Daddy crossed over and pulled her close, her folded arms between them. She went limp like she had as a little girl. Maybe she was being a spoiled brat, but it did feel a little bit like she’d waited all year and gotten what she wanted for Christmas, only to have it taken. Cam was the only man she had ever loved. Ever really wanted. She had sampled others and found them wanting.
“I’ve just waited so long for him, Daddy.” Jo sniffed and stifled the all-out sob that tried to burst from her chest. “What if he doesn’t come back?”
Her father put enough space between them to peer down at her, a small smile on his face.
“He didn’t leave until I landed, so I saw him before he left, Jo. I’ve only ever seen Cam in a state like that once before, and that was when Amalie died. He loves you. He’ll be back.”
“But what if—”
Her phone ringing from the bedroom cut into the arguments she had readied.
“Be right back.” She rushed to the bedroom in case it was Cam.
God, please let it be Cam.
She glanced at the screen. Peter. She cleared as much of the tear-hoarseness from her throat as she could.
“Hey, Peter.”
“Morning, Jo. You on your way?”
“Um…” Jo glanced down at her silk robe and bare feet. “Sure.”
“Good. I’ll see you in about an hour.”
“Ahhhh, Peter, I need a little info here. Where, who, why, when kinda thing would help.”
Peter’s deep, indulgent laugh washed over her frayed nerves across the phone lines.
“Breakfast at The Club. Remember you wanted to meet the parents who might be able to step in for one of the couples who pulled out?”
“Darn it.” Jo tossed her robe onto the bed and stood there naked for a second or two. “I’ll be there. Thanks for checking.”
“It’s nothing.” Peter’s pause sat there like he wanted to say more, and then he did. “You know there’s not much I wouldn’t do for you, Jo.”
Jo squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth against another sob. This amazing guy who was on-paper-perfect was in love with her, and she couldn’t even care. Couldn’t respond. Even being naked while she was on the phone with him felt wrong.
“Peter, I can’t do this. You know I’m with…”
Was she? With Cam? He’d run off and told her not to doubt his love, but he had set another embargo on his emotions. He’d gone dark and asked her to wait.
“I know you’re with Cam.” Peter said the words she had left unsaid. “I just know we’d be good together, Jo, and I kind of haven’t given up. Thought you should know.”
And then he hung up.
Jo walked into the closet she’d shared with Cam for the last couple of months. She wanted to wrap herself up in one of his shirts from the hamper. Something that still hoarded his scent, that had lain against his skin. He hadn’t taken much. She ran her fingers over the leather sports coat he’d worn to Christmas dinner at Walsh’s house last year. She had stopped counting the number of times she’d caught him staring at her ass that night.
“I like mangoes in my salsa. I’m infatuated with your ass.”
MINE painted across her butt.
His heart in her hands.
Even gone, even with the hurt like a pyre of burning wood that started at her feet and licked to the top of her head, the memory of him could make her smile. It had been real, right? He’d been hers and she’d been his for a little while.
“Please bring him back to me,” she whispered into the lonely closet.
Tears rushed her throat, but she did what she’d always done. Gulped them back ruthlessly. She had things to do. She had kids to help. She had a life to live and Cam had his. He better hope she was here when he decided he wanted to let her in on it.
W
ell, that’s that.” Jo sank into her office chair and stretched her legs out. “I think all is in order and we’re ready for our trip.”
“Haiti or bust.” Peter grinned across the desk, his eyes drifting to her legs before returning to her face. “I’m glad you insisted on this trip. I’m looking forward to meeting all the kids this will help.”
“Me too.” Jo gave her skirt a subtle tug downward, not wanting Peter to get any ideas. Well, more ideas. “And I hope we’ll get final word from Tiki’s potential parents.”
“They’ll come through. Don’t worry.” Peter shifted in his seat across from her. “So, any word from Cam?”
Jo swallowed a scream. Mrs. Quentin asked this morning when she served Jo’s egg-white omelet. Daddy called from Boston to check on her. Meredith had offered to cancel a date if Jo needed to “talk.” Shaundra kept poking her head in and asking if Jo “needed anything.”
Yes! I need you all to leave me the fuck alone!
“Um, no word yet.” Jo shuffled a stack of perfectly neat papers on her desk. “It’s fine. He has the exhibit in February. He’s probably painting like a madman.”
Probably not the best choice of words for the boyfriend who’d held a gun to your head, but c’est la vie.
“I’m sure.” Peter’s neutral tone said that he wasn’t. “Hey! We should do something fun before we come back from Haiti.”
“Fun?” That was a foreign concept for Jo right now. Translation, please. “Meaning like what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a quick stop somewhere before we come home. We’ve both been working our asses off. We’ve earned some recon. Besides, heard you’re in good with the big boss.”
Jo’s smile muscles had atrophied from little use over the two weeks since Cam had disappeared. So it almost hurt to smile back at Peter, but Jo managed it. Her cell rang on her desk, and Jo forced herself to calmly reach for the phone, instead of diving for it like a desperate idiot every time it rang, on the off-not-gonna-happen-chance that Cam had deigned to call.
No such luck, according to the screen.
“Walsh, hey.” Jo smiled at Shaundra when she walked in with some papers for her and Peter to review. Peter started reading while she was on the phone.
“Hey, cuz. How you holding up?”
“He didn’t die, Walsh.” Jo subdued the waspish note in her voice. “Sorry. It’s just people keep asking me that.”
“Because we love you and we’re concerned.”
Jo swiveled her seat around so Peter would only see the high back and would hear less.
“Concerned enough to tell me where he is?” She warned her inner weakling not to beg.
“He’s smart enough to know that you have your ways of getting information from the informed.”
“I can’t believe he has gone dark on me again.” Jo snapped her teeth together to stop herself from growling. “That he’s running again.”
“He just needs a little space. Give it to him.”
“You don’t understand what it’s like having the person you love running in the opposite direction. Having them shut you out. Having them make you wait.”
Silence gathered on the other end while Walsh allowed her space to hear what she’d just said.
“Jo, do I even need to remind you of the shit storm my life was because Kerris did pretty much everything you just said?”
Jo tapped her nails on the arm of the chair.
“I know, but this is different. Kerris didn’t hold a gun to your head and run off without a word. What if he’s hurt himself? Or depressed? Every time I think I’m in, he blocks me out again, and I’m sick of it.”
“I get that. I am familiar with that feeling.”
“Then you know.” Jo pressed her lips together so they wouldn’t tremble. “You understand that this is torturing me.”
Walsh let out a weighty sigh.
“I can’t bring him back, but I can at least alleviate some of the worry. He hasn’t hurt himself. He called Kerris.”
Jo sat straight up in her seat like a hot poker had been shoved down her Alexander Wang dress.
“What’d she say he said?”
“He asked her about Dr. Stein.”
“Kerris’s therapist?”
“Yeah. That’s all I know, Jo. I probably shouldn’t have told you that much, but I know you’re going crazy.”
“I wouldn’t say
crazy
. Who says I’m going crazy?”
“Well, Meredith may have mentioned something about you sleeping at Cam’s place and refusing to change the sheets.”
“That was a private moment, and those sheets were barely used.”
Their scents had perfectly mingled on those sheets, and she’d wondered if they’d ever get to do that again.
“Yeah, well, I think it’d do you some good to get out of Cam’s place and out of Rivermont for a little bit.”
“Funny you should say that. Peter and I are headed to Haiti tomorrow.”
“I was thinking more like a vacation.”
“Like what?”
“Like after Haiti, join Kerris and me and the girls in Dubai. Now that Dad’s back, I’m finally getting to take some time off.”
“No, that’s a family trip.”
“And you’re family. We’d love to have you.”
“I don’t want to be a third wheel. I mean, even with your two little tiny wheels, you and Kerris will be all over each other. I’ve seen it up close and it’s just disgusting.”
“True story,” Walsh laughed from the other end. “So bring a friend.”
Jo kicked her seat around to face Peter, who had pulled on his glasses to read the documents.
“Peter, wanna go to Dubai with me?”
“Jo, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Walsh asked.
Jo ignored him.
“What do you say, Peter?”
“That’d be perfect.” Peter pulled his glasses off and ran a hand over his tired eyes. “It’s exactly the kind of thing I was thinking of. When?”
“When, Walsh?”
“Jo…”
“When, Walsh? We leave for Haiti tomorrow. When are you going to Dubai?”
“In a couple of days, but—”
“Great we’ll meet you there.” Jo held her hand out for Peter to pass the papers they needed to discuss. “I’ll get with Kerris for details.”
“Jo, you’re playing a dangerous game.” Walsh’s voice harbored a soft rebuke. “I know you miss Cam, but don’t drag someone else into this.”
Peter didn’t feel dangerous. Right now, he felt like her greatest comfort. Her realest friend. Some killjoy voice at the back of her mind sided with Walsh, but Jo had been through too much alone. She could use a vacation and she could use some company.
“Gotta go, Walsh. Work awaits.”