The Dare Collection July 2019. Nicola Marsh
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it enough times would transfer the meaning of the words.
“We don’t have to.” There it was again—Cameron’s almost-guilt.
Because he doesn’t care about ghost tours. He looked up the schedule because you do.
She took a hasty sip of her water and set the glass back on the table. “I would love to do a haunted tour.” She noted the almost imperceptible relaxing of his shoulders. It wasn’t guilt she read from Cameron—it was nerves.
The realization almost made her laugh. She’d spent so much time tripping over her own feet in front of him, it had never occurred to her that he might be in over his head, too. The ground centered a bit below her feet, her perverse nature liking that he didn’t have a playbook he was pulling from. Not that she’d believed that, exactly. Cameron was many things, but a playboy didn’t make the list. That said, he obviously wasn’t the settling-down type or he would have done it by now.
Unless he hasn’t found the right person to settle down with...
Stop that.
You don’t even know where you’re going to land yet. You can’t make choices one way or another when it comes to being with another person. Even without all the stuff stacked against you, it would never work.
She didn’t want to think about that right now. Reality seemed very far away with them sitting in a darkened pub in the middle of freaking London. Trish cautiously reached out and touched his forearm. “Could we...” She swallowed hard, gathering her courage around her. “Could we table any conversations about the future for now? At least until we get back?”
“We’re only going to be here about a week.”
Such a short time and yet longer than she would have dared when she let herself imagine what it would be like if Cameron gave in to the pull between them. It will have to be enough. “The question stands.”
His dark eyes searched her face. “That’s what you want? Not to talk about anything too scary for the time we’re here.”
“Well, any haunted tour worth its salt is a little bit scary.” Her joke fell flat as the bartender appeared and set food on the table in front of them. Her mouth watered as she took in the crispy fish and chips. Oh yeah, I love London.
“Trish.”
She reluctantly dragged her gaze away from her food and back to his face. “Yeah?”
“You can have this week. After that, we’re having a conversation.”
A conversation destined to be the death knell of their fling. The writing couldn’t have been clearer on that particular wall. All she had to do was open her mouth and tell him she wanted to call the whole thing off—that it was wiser for her to leave things as they were and get the hell out of the UK and back to New York, where she could at least pretend she had her head on straight. They’d had sex a few times, but easy enough to chalk it up to temporary insanity and hope a week apart would be enough to cool their chemistry.
Leaving was the smart thing to do, and Trish always did the smart thing.
But she found herself smiling at Cameron. “Tell me about this haunted tour.”
“THAT WAS THE biggest load of shit.”
Trish laughed and slipped her hand into the crook of Cameron’s arm. The wind had kicked up during the last half hour, and it cut through her thin jacket as if it wasn’t there. She was self-aware enough to admit that craving warmth wasn’t the only reason she wanted to touch him. He might be a human-shaped furnace, but being this close to him just felt good in general.
He absently rearranged her, tucking her against his body and wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he turned so his big body took the brunt of the wind chill. Cameron shook his head. “He wooed at one point.” His voice kicked up a register as he mimicked their hapless guide. “Wooooooo.”
“Oh stop.” She playfully smacked his chest. “He knew his history. It was very educational.” Her heart felt like it was two sizes too big after seeing places she’d only read about. The extra flavor from having a haunted tour only made the whole experience that much better.
That, and being with Cameron.
“The information was good. The delivery was off.” He turned and guided them in the direction of their rooms, still grumbling about the guide. He cut himself off and shot her a look. “I had fun.”
“I can tell.”
“No, I’m serious. It was nice spending time with you.”
Warmth blossomed in her chest, and no amount of reasoning could dispel it. She’d had fun with Cameron this evening, too. And last night. And this morning. Reminding herself that it was going to end—and probably end poorly—didn’t make a difference. This runaway train was out of her control and it would keep going until they ran out of tracks. It didn’t matter that she wouldn’t be staying with Tandem indefinitely, or that Aaron would be furious when he found out how they’d crossed the line. Nothing mattered but how much she enjoyed being with Cameron. “What’s your story?”
“What do you mean?”
She shot him a look. “Well, you didn’t just pop into existence in your current form. I’m assuming you were a child at some point, probably had a parent or two in one form or another. Siblings? I mean, let’s just start with the basics.”
“I think I can do that.” He squeezed her shoulders and nudged her to turn right at the street corner. “My parents live in California. My mother is a teacher, and my dad is military—retired now. No siblings to speak of. Apparently I was a difficult child, and—”
“Imagine that.”
He continued without missing a beat. “They decided I was enough and didn’t have any more kids. We weren’t in one place for more than a few years, but they were a solid foundation while I was growing up. They’re good people.”
Trish had been born and raised in the same place as a long line of Livingstons had. Their roots went core deep in town, and she’d grown up knowing exactly what her place was, whether she wanted it or not. She couldn’t imagine switching schools every few years and having to face dealing with figuring out her place in the pecking order... Makes a lot more sense why he can be so damn standoffish. Easier not to play the game or get close to people when he’d just inevitably move on. “You met my brother in college.”
“More like he adopted me as his pet project in college,” Cameron grumbled. “We were lab partners and he decided I just needed a little more structure in my life. Look where that got him.”
“Mmm, yeah, terrible life you’re both living.” She laughed. “You’re rich as sin and running a successful company together, and for all of both of your bitching, you never actually fight. Must be terrible.” In truth, she envied them their friendship a bit. Trish had friends, but when it became clear she wasn’t going to follow the ascending path to her dream career within the corporate fashion industry like she’d always planned, she withdrew more and more. One friend had scored an internship with her dream clothing designer, a position destined to shoot her into greatness if she survived it. Another had secured a junior position in a prestigious law firm.
Trish?
Trish had failed to find even an entrance-level job in her field of choice, and mounting student loan bills had forced her to move back into her parents’ place to try to stem the hemorrhaging of her minuscule bank account. It turned out that her chosen field didn’t have much in the way of entrance-level jobs, and securing one in their competitive industry had turned into an impossible task.
“Where