“Isn’t a person innocent until proven guilty?”
“In theory, yes, but unfortunately, that’s not always the way it works. I’ve seen innocent people get framed for crimes. And I don’t want that to happen to you.”
“Why, Cam? We’re nothing to each other anymore. I told you when I first came back to town that I didn’t want to renew our relationship or our friendship. I’ve been saying the same thing emphatically for the past year. Let this go.”
“You weren’t saying that a few months ago,” he reminded her.
Grace closed her eyes for a moment to block him out. He was right. He’d caught her in a weak moment and she’d done something she knew she would regret. The thing was, she was still waiting for the regret to come. Instead, she just felt more loneliness.
Dammit! She’d told herself she was over this man, the man who had broken her heart at the tender age of eighteen. Why did her pulse have to speed up every time she was anywhere near him? It was ridiculous. She was a twenty-eight-year-old woman, had been around the world, had dined with royalty, and her childhood crush still had the power to render her speechless.
It was beyond irritating.
“Let’s start over. I drove all the way out here, and I’m hungry.” Before Grace could say a word, Cam ushered the waitress over. “I’ll take a cheeseburger with the works, a big helping of chili fries, and a glass of Coke.”
“Do you need anything else, ma’am?” she asked Grace.
What the hell? She was stuck there with him temporarily, and now that her mother was gone, she found herself hungry. It wasn’t as if Cam was going to leave her alone anyway. She ordered a fresh club sandwich and soup.
“You know, you haven’t changed at all—maybe just matured a little in a very appealing way,” Cam told her with a look known to melt young girls’ hearts.
“I’ve changed in more ways than show on the outside,” she told him. “I’ve grown a lot stronger over the years. Aside from mistakes at weddings where I’ve drunk too much and ended up in the bed of a certain ex-boyfriend, I’m not so gullible anymore.”
“Speaking of Spence and Sage’s wedding, you know she talks about you all the time, telling me you’re her oldest friend. She’s glad you’re spending more time with her.”
“You do realize that you should never use the word old when talking about a woman, don’t you?”
He was smart enough not to reply to that comment.
Grace really wasn’t sure if she wanted more to smack this man or kiss him. He was a royal pain in her butt. Still, the more often he forced his company on her the more she wanted to see him, to talk to him. He was just one of those rare guys who could make a girl laugh and cry at the same time.
She couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him that brought out her vulnerable side, but it closed her off, made her want to run in the opposite direction. She had no doubt he could bring her to her knees if she let him.
“How’s the event-planning business going?” he asked as the waitress set plates down in front of them. While he waited for an answer, he dug in as if he hadn’t eaten in a month.
She sipped her soup while she thought about whether or not to answer him. She finally caved. When in Rome . . .
“It’s slow, but I have enough clients that it’s entertaining.”
“Why do you do it, Grace, when you don’t need to work?”
“I could ask you the same thing. You have boatloads more money in your trust than I have in mine and you practically live in your law offices, that is when you aren’t wrangling cattle,” she pointed out. “I work because I’m not some stupid little socialite who wants to do nothing more than sit on her hands all day while the rest of the world truly lives. I enjoy my job, the challenge of it, the opportunity to learn new things, and the chance to meet new people. I get to be creative and I won’t ever be like my mother.”
She looked down, but she could practically feel his smile burning into her skull. It didn’t matter whether she snapped at him or batted her eyelashes. Cam was an easygoing guy, and it was nearly impossible to ruffle his feathers.
When she looked back up, his smile was gone, but his eyes were hot. He reached across the table and took her hand. She pulled against him for a moment and then decided she was too dignified to struggle with this man in public, so instead she sent him an infuriated gaze and let her hand go limp.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she said between clenched teeth.
His eyes traveled over her face, then rested on her mouth, the look so intense, it sent a lingering pulse straight to her core. Her tongue came out and wetted her lips, making his eyes blaze even hotter.
“Why do you continually fight me at each and every turn?” he asked her huskily.
“Because I don’t like being manhandled,” she snapped.
“Damn! Do you realize how tempting you are with fire shooting out of your eyes? You’re magnificent,” he said in an awed whisper.
“So I’m cute when I’m mad? Well, you’re . . . you are . . . you’re insufferable,” she retorted, the anger draining. It was hard to stay upset when a man you desired was looking at you as if you were the main course.
“If you really felt that way about me, you wouldn’t be so turned on by just a few words and my touch on your hand, Grace. You’re fighting yourself as much as you’re fighting me. If I thought this was all one-way, I would have dropped it long ago.”