Читать книгу From Best Friend To Bride - Jules Bennett - Страница 10

Chapter Three

Holy—

Cameron couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t form a damn thought with Megan’s curvy body pressed against his. This was his best friend, yet with the way her breasts were all but spilling out of her barely-there black dress, his thoughts weren’t very friend-like at the moment.

Hadn’t he just pep-talked himself into trying to keep his thoughts out of the gutter?

“Wh-what are you doing here?” she asked.

Why was her voice all breathy and sultry?

Cameron dropped his hands and took a step back, but that didn’t help his hormones settle down. Now he was able to see just how hot she looked wearing that second-skin dress that hit her upper thigh at a very indecent level and scooped low enough to show off her breasts.

Jealousy ripped through him. “Where the hell are you going like that?”

She flinched. Maybe he’d sounded a tad gruff, but seriously? Every visual that came to mind involved a bedroom.

Megan lifted her chin defiantly as she crossed her arms, doing nothing to help her cause of breast spillage. “For your information, I’m cleaning my closet and trying things on. Now, why are you here and not home asleep?”

He was starting to question that himself. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Not that he’d tried, but she didn’t need to know that. He glanced into her room and laughed. Megan always had everything in its place, but something tragic had transpired with her clothes. He wasn’t dumb enough to make a comment because he was pretty sure that some rage had been unleashed in that room.

“Not a word,” she growled, as if daring him to comment on the chaos. “Let me change real quick.”

Before she turned away, the back door opened and closed. Cameron nearly groaned. Nobody else would just walk in other than him or Evan.

Megan let out a sigh. “Be nice,” she whispered. “I’ll go change.”

Cameron turned away just as Evan rounded the hall corner. His disheveled hair and black eye were so predictable. He looked like a deadbeat who’d obviously been on the wrong end of one of his “friends’” fists. Cameron wouldn’t allow him to come in here and make Megan feel like crap.

“Am I interrupting something?” Evan asked, his narrowed eyes darting between Cameron and Megan.

Cameron wanted to tell the guy yes, but he didn’t figure Evan would leave and the lie would only make Megan upset. No matter what, he was treading a fine line because if this weren’t Megan’s only living relative, Cameron wouldn’t think twice about hauling his butt in if for nothing else than to shake him up a bit.

Megan stepped into her room and came out seconds later tying a robe around her waist. At least she was covered now. Cameron didn’t like that judgmental glance that Evan had thrown at them. Even if Cameron and Megan had been doing something intimate, that wouldn’t have been Evan’s business...or anyone else’s for that matter.

“What happened?” Megan asked, stepping toward her brother.

Evan waved a hand, his eyes still moving between Cameron and Megan. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

Cameron knew those blow-off comments hurt Megan. The woman obviously cared for her brother, and Evan didn’t even acknowledge the fact.

“I do worry,” she told him with a softer tone.

Cameron maintained his place between the two siblings. No way was he budging. When it became clear that Evan wasn’t going to offer any more feedback over his recent fight, Megan sighed.

“What do you need, Evan?” Megan asked as she took a step back, landing her next to Cameron.

Good. Cameron wanted her to feel safer with him there. The silent gesture clearly showed who she trusted, who she felt more comfortable with. The primal part of Cameron liked to think her easing closer to him showed whose side she was on, as well.

“I need to talk to you,” Evan told her, then shifted his eyes to Cameron.

“Go ahead,” Cameron replied, resting his hands on his hips and in absolutely no hurry to budge.

“Alone.”

Megan moved down the hall, squaring her shoulders. “I’m not giving you money,” she informed him as she got closer. “If you want to visit with me, that’s fine.”

Evan raked a hand through his hair, then threw another glance at Cameron and back to Megan. Cameron didn’t move, didn’t even consider giving them privacy because he wanted Megan to know he was here for support. He wouldn’t chime in, wouldn’t say a word unless he saw she couldn’t be strong. But he had faith in her. He knew she was getting tired of her brother only coming around for money.

Evan leaned down, whispered something to Megan and gripped her arm. Cameron went on full alert.

“No, Evan,” Megan said softly, shaking her head. “I don’t have it to give. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not sorry,” he spat as he released her with a forced shove. “I don’t need that much.”

Megan stumbled back a step, but caught herself as she crossed her arms and tipped her chin. “I have obligations, too, Evan. I can’t always give you money because you get into trouble.”

Evan’s focus darted over Megan’s shoulder, and Cameron merely narrowed his eyes, silently daring Evan to cross the line. The arm incident was more than enough to have Cameron ready to smash his face, but Megan wouldn’t like Cameron interfering. Plus as an officer of the law, Cameron couldn’t just go around punching all the people who pissed him off. Such a shame.

Cameron would like nothing more than to show Evan some tough love, but Megan was right. That was easier said than done. And as much as Cameron loathed the man, he was Megan’s brother and she loved him.

“I’ll come back when we can talk in private,” Evan said, looking back to Megan.

“My answer won’t change,” she informed him. “But you’re always welcome in my house.”

Evan merely grunted and started to turn.

“I love you,” Megan said, her voice shaky.

Evan froze, didn’t look back, didn’t comment, just paused before he disappeared around the corner. Moments later, the back door opened and closed again.

Megan turned, a fake smile pasted across her face, and started down the hall toward her room, skirting around him. “Well, let me change and then maybe we can do dinner. You want to go out? I’m not sure I have a lot here—”

Cameron followed her into the bedroom and watched as she jerked off her robe and tossed it onto the mound of clothes on her bed. As she glanced into the mirror and sighed, Cameron came up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders and meeting her gaze in the reflection.

“You don’t have to pretend with me.”

Her bright green eyes held his. “I’m not pretending,” she assured him. “I’m ignoring the fact that for years I’ve been an enabler to someone who really doesn’t care about me, and I’m done. I’m also starving, so while I change, figure out what you want to eat.”

Cameron knew there was so much more in her, but he wasn’t pressing the matter...not when she was staring back at him with such vulnerability and was half-naked. They were back to that damn body-hugging dress again, and Cameron didn’t know if he wanted to keep looking or if he wanted her to cover up.

Megan’s entire body relaxed against his. Her bottom nestled against his groin, and Cameron tried to ignore the innocent gesture as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her securely. She needed comfort, needed to lean on someone even though it was against everything she stood for. She’d never admit she needed to draw from his strength, but Cameron was freely giving it.

Unfortunately, his fingertips barely brushed across the tops of her breasts before he could complete his hold. A shiver racked her body and vibrated through his.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered, her eyes still locked on his in the mirror.

Looking at her reflection was quite different from being face-to-face. He didn’t know why, but in the mirror he saw so much, too much. Her vulnerability stared back at him at the same time that her killer body mocked him. He was her friend, damn it. He shouldn’t be having these thoughts of how perfect she felt against him, how sexy she was.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” Even though his libido was taking a hard hit, it was the truth.

With a deep breath, Megan straightened and turned, all but brushing those breasts against his chest. Okay, really. He was a guy already on the brink of snapping the stretched line of control, and there was only so much more of this he could take.

“Are you working tonight?” she asked, oblivious to his inner turmoil.

“No.” He dropped his arms to his side and took a slight step back, away from that chest, the killer body that was slowly unraveling him. “Why don’t I run to the store and grab something while you change?”

“A night in?” She beamed. “Only if I get to pick the movie.”

Cameron groaned. “If I have to watch The Godfather again...”

With an evil laugh and a shrug, Megan stepped around him and started digging through clothes. “You choose the meal—I choose the movie. You know that’s how we work.”

Yeah, that’s how they worked. They’d been working like this for years, before his deployment and since. But in all the years they’d had this routine of spontaneous date nights with each other, never once had the urge to peel her out of her clothes been this strong.

Of course now that he’d seen her, held her and visually enjoyed her in this dress, he could think of little else. So in a moot attempt at holding on to his sanity, and their friendship, Cameron conceded.

“You win,” he told her. “I’ll be back.”

Even if he removed himself from the situation, Cameron knew he was screwed. Now that he’d seen her lush, curvy body, and felt it so intimately against his, he couldn’t not see it. The image, the feel of her, was permanently ingrained into him.

Penance for his sins of lying to her.

* * *

Every single time they settled in for a movie, Megan fell asleep within the first hour without fail. Tonight was no exception.

She’d curled her feet beneath her, rested her head on his shoulder and before the mobsters could leave the gun and take the cannoli, Megan was out.

Cameron propped his feet up on her coffee table and slid farther down on the sofa. Carefully, he adjusted Megan so she lay down, her head on his lap. Resting his own head against the back cushion, Cameron shut his eyes and attempted to relax. Her delicate hand settled right over his thigh as she let out a soft sigh.

With his hand curled over her shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall, Cameron realized he actually preferred resting just like this to his bed at home. At least here he had company. At home he had thoughts that kept him awake and staring at the ceiling fan. Work never fully left him—occupational hazard.

But here, with Megan, he could let work shuffle to the back of his mind. He didn’t want to burden her with his stress, so he purposely tried to be a friend first and a cop second whenever he was with her. Added to that, he reveled in the fact she was comfortable and sleeping soundly. He wanted to be her protector, her stable force. Somehow knowing he was all of that allowed him to let down his guard just a bit.

Crossing his ankles, Cameron rested an elbow on the arm of the couch. He’d muted the movie once Megan had fallen asleep, but the flicker of the screen lit up the room. As always, when they had movie night, all lights were off.

A shrill ring pierced the silence, and Cameron jerked awake. The TV had gone black, indicating he’d dozed off for a good bit, but he didn’t really recall how long ago that had been. The ring sounded again. He grabbed his side, but Megan’s phone on the table was the one lit up. Normally his phone was the one that rang at all hours.

She was still out with her head on his lap. He didn’t recognize the number on the screen. Shocked the caller wasn’t her brother, Cameron nudged Megan’s shoulder.

“Meg.”

She groaned and rolled to her back, blinking as she looked up at him. The sight of her utterly exhausted and rumpled from sleeping on his lap shouldn’t have his body stirring. Damn that red dress from the christening and the skimpy number she’d had on earlier.

The third ring ripped through the silence, and Megan was on instant alert. She jerked up, grabbed the phone and answered.

Cameron shifted his legs to the floor, immediately getting some blood flow back. They’d obviously been asleep for a while, which was what they had both needed.

Megan came to her feet and spoke in hushed tones as she walked into the other room. He assumed it was a client. Megan often counseled long after regular office hours were over. She was so good at her job because of how caring she was, how much she sacrificed to make sure her clients’ needs came first.

Cameron got to his feet, then twisted at the waist until his back popped in all the right places. He was getting too old to sleep on a couch, a car, his office. Unfortunately, he didn’t see an end to his bad habits anytime soon.

He turned off the TV, sending the living room into utter darkness. Megan rounded the corner from the kitchen just as he started to reach over and click on the lamp, but his hand bumped the stand and sent the light to the hardwood floor. He cringed at the racket.

“Don’t move.” Megan turned on the kitchen light, sending an instant glow shining into the living room. “Let me grab my broom.”

“You’re barefoot,” he told her. “Let me clean it up.”

“You don’t have shoes on, either.” She disappeared down the hall and came back with broom and dustpan in hand. “Sit on the couch, and I’ll get this.”

Like hell. Ignoring her, he reached down to pick up the cockeyed lampshade and the remains of the lamp. The bulb and base had completely shattered.

“I’ll bring you a new one later.” He set the awkward shade and lamp guts on the coffee table and reached to take the broom.

Stepping around him, she handed him the dustpan and started sweeping. Stubborn woman. No wonder they were best friends. Nobody else would put up with how hardheaded they both were.

He squatted down and held the pan while she scooped in the shards. “At least this wasn’t a family heirloom,” he joked.

Shoving her hair from her eyes, she threw him a glance. “Funny.”

Cameron headed into the kitchen to toss the debris. As he was tying the bag, the vacuum kicked on in the living room, the occasional cracking noise indicating she was removing the rest of the slivers from the floor.

He tugged the liner from the trash can and tied it, wanting to get it out so she didn’t cut herself later. As Cameron jerked the knot in place, a hunk of glass he hadn’t seen poking from the small hole sliced through the edge of his hand.

Damn. That hurt.

He opened her back door, tossed the bag into the larger can on her patio and closed and locked the door. The vacuum shut off in the other room as Cameron headed to the sink. Running his hand beneath the cool water eased the burning sensation and washed away the mess, allowing him to see just how deep the cut was. Megan didn’t need to know he’d hurt himself. She’d make a bigger deal of it than need be.

After rinsing his hand, he examined the area further. Instantly he started bleeding again. Apparently it was deeper than he thought.

“Hiding something?”

Cringing, Cameron ripped off a paper towel, pressed it against the side of his hand and turned toward his accuser. Megan rested one shoulder against the door frame, arms crossed over her chest, and merely lifted a brow.

“Just a scratch.” That hurt like hell. Apparently he was old and wimpy. Great combo for the police chief.

Cameron’s eyes locked on to her shapely legs as she crossed the room. Damn it.

Carefully, she took his hand and pulled the paper towel away. “Oh, Cam. This needs stitches.”

She examined his hand, then brought her gaze up to meet his. In the middle of the night, with everything so quiet and intimate, Cameron knew for a fact he was starting to delve into a territory he had no business being in.

Her eyes held his, dropped to his mouth, then traveled back up. That gesture said more than any words could. But this was Megan, his best friend, the girl who’d been his senior prom date and the girl who’d sneaked out with him and his brothers that same night and got absolutely plastered near the lake.

She was pretty much family. So why was she looking at him beneath those heavy lids? Why was he enjoying this rush of new sensations, wondering if she had deeper feelings? He shouldn’t want her to have stronger emotions for him. That added complication was the last thing either of them needed.

“Come with me.”

Cameron blinked. “Excuse me?”

Megan smiled. “To the bathroom. You’re too stubborn to go get stitches, so I’ll fix you up with my first-aid kit.”

When she turned and headed back down the hall, Cameron released a breath he hadn’t been aware he’d bottled up. Had he been the only one thinking about what would happen if they kissed? The way she’d looked at him, his mouth, as though she wanted more, wasn’t something he’d made up. But the desire flashing in her eyes was gone in a second.

What was going on in that head of hers? More to the point, what the hell was he going to do if her feelings did match his?

“Cam?”

Pushing off the edge of the counter, Cameron moved through the kitchen. They were both sleep deprived; that was all. He’d been without a woman for so long, was so wrapped up in work, and Megan had quite a bit on her plate, as well.

Once daylight came, once reality settled back in and the ambience was gone, this intense moment would be forgotten. Wouldn’t it?