"Not too buzzed," Matthew said as he slipped off his stool. "I've got you in my book for noon tomorrow."
"His book?"
"Personal training," Cam said.
"Tomorrow," Matthew said, pointing a stern finger at Cam before nodding to Mina and disappearing into the crowd gathered in front of the stage where a local band was about to start another set.
"I've seen him around the bar dozens of times," Mina said. "I never thought to ask what he does."
"He owns the gym over on Lavaca," Cam said, pointing roughly toward the west. "I've been working with him for a couple of months now."
"I can tell," she said, then immediately regretted it when his brows rose.
"Yeah? Guess it's good to know I'm getting my money's worth." He nodded toward Matthew's recently vacated seat, and she climbed up on the stool, happy to have been invited.
She hesitated for a second, then decided to face the elephant in the room head-on. "If what I touched was any indication, your money is very well spent."
He looked up, his head slightly cocked and his blue-gray eyes locked on hers. For a moment, time simply froze. Then he reached for his drink and took a long swallow. "What happened to your date?" he finally asked.
She lifted a shoulder. "I canceled. I wasn't in the mood."
"And yet here you are."
She swallowed, her mouth going dry as a shiver rippled up her spine. "Here I am."
"Are you in the mood for a drink?"
"Yeah," she said, matching his smile. "I think a drink sounds like a really great idea."
Chapter Four
Cam lifted a hand, signaling for Eric, who finished pouring a martini for a blonde at the far end of the bar, then came down to Cam and Mina's end. "Another?" Eric asked, nodding at Cam's half-full drink.
Cam nodded, then downed the last of the bourbon and water in one swallow. Because with Mina right there beside him, he needed all the courage he could gather, liquid or otherwise. "And something for Mina, too," he said. "A dirty martini with the blue cheese olives?" He'd taken her order enough to know that was one of her favorite drinks.
"Not tonight," she said. "Just a glass of wine. Let's do a Pinot Noir," she told Eric. "You pick the label."
"You got it," Eric said.
"Not your usual," Cam said as soon as Eric returned with their drinks.
She took a sip, then nodded approval before turning to him with the hint of a smile. "Maybe I want to keep my wits tonight."
The smile widened, revealing a small dimple that Cam thought was about the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. He forced himself to look away, concentrating on his bourbon and kicking himself for ordering the second one. Because right then he was feeling far too bold. And he was still sober enough to worry about making a complete and total ass of himself.
After all, it wasn't as if she'd come to The Fix looking for him. She'd come because she worked there. Because she wanted to have a drink and see her friends.
Cam didn't even factor into the equation.
But she's sitting next to you now, the little devil on his shoulder said. And, dammit, the little devil was right.
Too bad Cam wasn't entirely sure what to do about that interesting reality.
For a moment, silence hung between them. Then he stood, his feet balanced on the crossbar of the stool as he leaned over the bar and grabbed a menu from the prep area. "We should get food," he said, in response to her raised eyebrows.
"You need to look at the menu? How long have you worked here?"
He shot her a sideways glance. "I thought you might want to take a look." He tossed the menu, unopened, back into the work area. "But never mind. I'll order for both of us."
"A man who takes charge." She took a sip of her Pinot Noir, then settled back on her stool. "I like it."
He knew she was teasing, of course, but that didn't change the fact that her words seemed to fill the air between them, buzzing and humming with unexplored potential.
He drew another breath and told himself to quell the fantasies. This was just Mina. And she didn't see him as anyone other than just Cam.
Once again he lifted his hand to get Eric's attention. "Spinach and Mushroom Risotto Balls along with the Cheeseburger Fries." He flashed a grin toward Mina. "Friday night food."
"Hell, yeah," she said, as the warm glow of her approval filled him.
Good God, he had it bad.
Eric put in the order, Cam and Mina sipped their drinks, and the band finished out their current number, a rockabilly tune that had the place hopping.
Mina had shifted in her chair to watch, but now that the band had finished the number, she turned back to sip her drink.
He expected her to say something, but she stayed quiet, her fingertip tracing around the rim of her glass as she looked from her wine, to him, and then around at the other customers.
Silence filled the space between them, a gaping maw that mocked him, making uncertainty twist in his stomach until he had to shift on the stool, trying to relieve some of the pressure of the moment.
He was being an idiot, of course. How many times had they sat quietly together? Hundreds, surely. And the quiet was never uncomfortable. So why was the silence suddenly so heavy? Why did he feel as if he had to say something smart or funny or ironic or interesting?
And for that matter, what could he say?
He didn't know, but he'd reached the point where if he didn't say something his head really might explode, so he dove in with, "So--"
And at exactly the same moment, she said, "You know--"
Their eyes met, a moment passed, and then they both burst out laughing.
"You go first," she said. "What were you going to say?"
He finished his drink and shook his head. "Honestly? I have no idea. You?"
Her lips twitched. "Not a clue," she admitted, and they both started laughing again.
"I'm starving," she said. "And that's not what I planned to say, but it's true." She leaned over and brushed her shoulder against him, but whether she was being friendly or flirty, he had no idea. "Thanks for ordering food."
"Well, I figured what with you missing out on your pancakes..."
"This is better," she said. "If I'd gone to Magnolia, you wouldn't have been there." She met his eyes, and for a moment it seemed as if he'd been swallowed up by the emerald fire of her gaze.
"Yeah," he finally said, impressed that he could form words. "This is much better."
This time the silence between them didn't seem awkward at all. This time, it seemed full of possibility.
All too soon, Eric sidled up and put the order in front of them. And suddenly Cam didn't give a flip about food. He just wanted to hit rewind and keep playing those few moments when it was just the two of them, their eyes locked on each other as if nothing else existed in the world.
"This looks amazing," Mina said, oblivious to the spell that had been broken. She reached for a fry, then moaned with pleasure after she tasted it.
The sound cut straight through Cam, firing his senses. He watched her, his entire body on edge as she licked her fingertips, then closed her eyes to savor the food before releasing a deep, satisfied sigh.
After a moment, she opened her eyes and grinned at him. "You're not eating?"
"Believe me, I'm doing just fine."
Her cheeks flushed. "Oh." She plucked up a risotto ball, then held it out to him. "These are amazing. Want a bite?"
Oh, yes.
"Sure," he said, and she held it to his mouth. He bit down, his lips brushing her fingertips. And as they did, she ran her teeth over her lower lip. Honestly, it was a freaking miracle that he didn't come right then.
He'd always heard people talk about how sensual eating could be, but until tonight Cam hadn't understood what that meant.
Trouble was, he still wasn't sure if this was a one-sided fantasy...or if Mina was finally seeing him the way that he'd always seen her.
He opened his mouth to finish the risotto ball, only to see
her pop the remaining half into her own mouth.
"Good," she said.
"Very." He nodded toward the plate. "I'd take another." He held his breath, waiting for her to lift one to his lips. But all she did was smile and push the plate toward him.
She took a sip of wine, then cleared her throat. "So, are you going to do that show with Nolan?"
It took him a second to figure out what she was talking about. "Morning drive time to talk about words scrawled on my chest? I'm thinking not."
"Oh, you should. And I could go with you."
That surprised him. "You could? Why?"
"I could take the handheld camera, and we could film it. Then use the clips to advertise the contest, the bar. It would be great. I bet a snippet would even end up in Brooke and Spencer's show."
"Yeah, you know, it's not really my dream to be plastered all over television."
Her eyes widened as her brows rose. "A little late for that, don't you think? You know they're going to include your stunt during the contest when the first episode airs. It's a hoot and you're standing right on the new stage. And the first episode's going to focus on designing and constructing that stage."
"They've told you that? About my chest, I mean?"
"No, but isn't it obvious?"
He supposed it was. The Business Plan was a show about doing renovations and remodeling at The Fix, but the producers had been excited about having the contest in the background. Which meant Mina was right; his little stunt was exactly the kind of thing they'd use in previews and teasers for the show. Which meant that his moment of self-deprecation was about to be splashed across televisions all over the country.
Oh, joy.
"Actually, I have a better idea," Mina said. "You should go on Nolan's show after you win Mr. March. You know, from comic relief to calendar beefcake."
He shook his head laughing. "Oh, no. I'm not entering the March contest. Not happening." And not even the fact that she'd more or less admitted that he looked good shirtless was going to make him change his mind.
Beefcake. Honestly, coming from Mina's lips it had a nice little ring to it.
"Oh, come on," she cajoled. "You should. Shouldn't he enter the next contest?" she asked, tilting her head up to aim the question not at Cam but at someone who'd apparently come up behind him.
He swiveled to find Brent moving around to stand between him and Mina. "He should," Brent said, his blue eyes flat and hard. "Absolutely, he should."
"What? I--"
Brent tilted his head, his eyes locked on Cam. "Don't you support the place that employs you?"
Cam looked between him and Mina. "I--well, yeah. Sure, but--"
Brent burst out laughing. "Sorry, I couldn't stay stoic any longer."
"Asshole." Cam tossed a wadded up cocktail napkin at him.
"It was the look on your face. I couldn't pass up giving you shit." He pointed at Cam. "But you really should enter. I happen to know you ran a close second."
"Why don't you enter?" Cam shot back.
"Um, yeah, no."
Cam leaned back on his stool. "I rest my case."
Brent just shook his head, then turned his attention to Mina. "Listen, I came over to tell you not to walk to your car alone. Four women have had their purses snatched in the area over the last two days."
"Yikes."
"I'll walk her to her car," Cam said, eyeing Mina. He expected her to protest--he'd seen her shrug off Darryl's constant care--but whether because of Brent's warning or something else, she just nodded and said that sounded great.
And then, when she added that she'd give him a ride home, he thought the bottom might actually fall out of his stomach.
She pointed to her almost empty glass of wine. "This is all I'm having tonight, and I'm guessing you got here in a ride share?"
"I have the most perfect parking spot near my place," he said, making her laugh. It was a longstanding joke between him and Darryl. During undergrad it had been a constant battle between the two to see who'd get cajoled into taking out their car first, and sacrificing whatever primo parking place they'd managed to score near the apartment they'd shared.
"Besides," he added, pointing to his glass, "I've had three of these, I think. So it's just as well that you're here to babysit me on my way home."
"Is that so?" She leaned toward him, mischief flashing in her eyes as she rested a hand on his thigh for balance. "Just how much care are you going to need?"
Was she flirting? Holy shit, she was flirting.
It must have surprised her as much as it did him, because she sat back suddenly, her eyes wide, then cleared her throat. "Um, sorry. I--I forgot to ask Brent something."
Before he could ask what, she hopped down and hurried toward the back, following Brent's path through the crowd.
Eric came over and leaned against the bar, looking frazzled. At the other end, Aly was mixing drinks, too, having recently started to split her time between waiting tables and bartending.
"You want another?" Eric asked. "Better yet, you want to hop back here and help out. Aly's good, but slow. Tonight's not a good night for slow."
"Not a chance," Cam said. "And just remember that the more crowded the bar, the more likely we'll all still have a job come December." That, Cam knew, was the drop-dead date. He didn't know how much money The Fix needed to show on the books, but he knew that if the magic number hadn't been reached by New Year's Eve, then Tyree and the partners were selling the place.
Honestly, the thought was too depressing to ponder.
"Another?" Eric prompted, and Cam glanced around for Mina, his mind recalling that sparkle in her eye when she'd pressed her hand to his thigh.
He imagined pulling her close and kissing her hard. And he considered the very interesting fact that Eric was offering him another shot of liquid courage.
And what the hell, right? After all, he did have a ride home.
"You know what?" he said. "I do want another."
Eric's grin suggested he'd seen every one of Cam's thoughts flash across his face, but to his credit he didn't say a word. Just poured the bourbon, added some water, and slid the drink across the bar to Cam, who sipped. And then sipped some more.
A few more sips, and he was almost to the bottom of the glass. And Mina still hadn't come back.
He frowned, unwelcome jealousies popping into his head. What if she'd run into one of her old boyfriends? What if she'd settled in at someone else's table? It wasn't as if they were together. And, sure, she offered him a ride, but that didn't obligate her to stay attached to his hip. Did it?
He twisted at the waist, his gaze skimming the crowd, and almost sagged with relief when he saw her pushing her way toward him, her hand going up in greeting.
"Sorry," she said as she reached him. "It took a while to catch up to Brent, and I had to hit the ladies room."
His attention was drawn to her mouth, the lips pale pink and glossy. She'd freshened her makeup. But had she freshened it for him?
That green thread of jealousy returned along with the memory of Brent's face. "What did you need to talk to Brent about?" He worked to keep his voice casual. It hadn't occurred to him before, but Brent was single. And good-looking.
Not that Cam considered himself an expert on the appeal of men, but he'd seen the reactions of enough female customers to confirm the assessment.
Were Brent and Mina--?
He forced himself not to think about it. Mostly because the thought made him want to find Brent and punch him.
"Mrs. Westerfield quit," Mina said.
"Who?"
"His babysitter," Mina explained. "I offered to babysit if he needs someone. Assuming it works into my schedule."
"Yeah? That was nice of you."
She laughed. "Well, don't sound so surprised!"
"Sorry. I only mean that you never babysat. When we were in high school, I mean. Did you?" He assumed he knew, but they hadn't gone to the same high school. For all Cam knew, Mina had been a babysitti
ng fiend.
She lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. "How hard can it be? She's five. No baby food, no diapers."
"And tons of energy."
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared down her nose at him. "Okay, mister. What do you know about it?"
"More than you, apparently," he teased. "I used to babysit every Wednesday and Friday in high school."
"Seriously?"
"We needed the money." He spoke the words flatly, without any editorial tone. His life was what it was, and it was a hell of a lot different than Darryl and Mina's. But she knew that as well as he did.
Cam and Darryl had met in a park near Cam's house the summer after second grade. Darryl and Mina were spending June with their mother, who was downwardly mobile after her divorce, and who'd moved into a small house one block over from where Cam and Kiki lived with their grandmother.
They'd become fast-friends, albeit mostly summer ones.
"Do you remember Mrs. Waring?" Cam asked.
"Sure. She lived at the end of Mom's block. She had what, three kids?"
"Four. And her husband died when the youngest was five months."
"You sat for them?"
He spread his hands. "Closer than riding my bike to Whataburger and flipping meat patties."
"Hmm," she said, pursing her lips as she studied him.
"What?"
"Got any plans for Sunday?"
If he did, he'd cancel them. But he played it cool. "Why?"
"Because Brent has a meeting here all morning about the renovations, and then after that he has a date."
"Really? With who?"
"No idea. He said Jenna fixed him up."
As far as Cam knew, Jenna, Reece, and Brent had been best friends since about the dawn of time. And now that Jenna and Reece were a couple, Cam was certain that Jenna was trying to find a girl for Brent--whether Brent wanted one or not.
"Let me guess--he asked you to watch Faith."
"And wouldn't it be great if I had someone with experience by my side? Could you? Are you working?"
"I'm not sure, actually." He'd just been promoted to the assistant weekend manager position, and Tyree had given him tomorrow off to chill and enjoy. But when Cam had last checked, Tyree hadn't posted Sunday's schedule.
He glanced around for the owner, but didn't see him in the crowd. And considering what a big man Tyree was, that probably meant he was in the office.