Something About You (22 page)

FOR THE DINNER that followed the rehearsal, Amy had reserved the entire space at Aerie Lounge, which was located on the sixteenth floor of the Tower. A convenient short elevator ride from Cameron and Jack’s room. Not so convenient for Cameron, however, was the fact that the cousins had cornered her by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bay, wanting to play Twenty Questions about Jack. Having recognized him from the bachelorette party, they’d been on her case ever since she’d walked into the rehearsal with him.

Cameron was relieved when she felt a hand at her elbow and heard a familiar voice to the left of her.

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies. I need to borrow Cameron for a few minutes.”

“Please make it more than a few,” she whispered as Collin led her to the opposite side of the room.

She kissed his cheek in an official hello. Since Amy had asked Collin to be a reader at the wedding, he had been at the rehearsal, too. But she’d been running around with various maid of honor tasks and hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to him there.

“I meant to tell you at the rehearsal: you look very dashing tonight. Love the navy sport coat and tie,” she said, gently tugging it.

“Richard gave it to me last Christmas,” Collin said.

Cameron saw the hurt in his eyes and knew how rare it was for him to show that. “Are you doing okay?”

He nodded. “Just . . . working through some things. Gay man in his thirties, dateless, the fifth wheel at his friend’s wedding. That kind of stuff.” His eyes held hers. “And aside from all that, I miss him.”

“Richard is a fool,” Cameron said. “And you’re not a fifth wheel. Technically, I only have a fake date to this wedding.”

Collin scoffed at this. “Looking like that, that won’t be the case for long.” He checked out her caramel-colored cocktail dress and heels. Her shoulder had begun bothering her midway through straightening her hair, so she’d pulled it back in a chignon and focused on smoky-eyed makeup instead. “I’m surprised Pallas let you out of the room like that,” he said. “At least without being a good hour late to the rehearsal.”

“And risk Amy’s wrath? No way—that woman scares even me,” Jack said from behind them.

As Jack joined them, he momentarily rested his hand on the small of Cameron’s back. She faced the party, so no one saw, but her body went warm just at the brief contact.

“I thought you could use a drink.” He handed her a glass of red wine.

Cameron smiled—partially because she’d been meaning to make it over to the bar for twenty minutes before being cornered by the cousins, and partially because she couldn’t get over how sexy Jack looked in his gray blazer and open-necked black shirt.

“Thank you,” she said.

Jack leaned in, and for a second Cameron thought he was going to kiss her. “You didn’t tell me this wedding was outside,” he said quietly.

“I didn’t think about it. From everything Amy’s told me about the setup, I barely consider it an outdoor wedding. Will that be a problem?” The last thing she wanted to do was make his job even harder.

“I promised I’d get you to this wedding. I’ll handle it.” With his back to the other guests so none of them could see, Jack laced his fingers with hers and pulled her closer, speaking low enough so only she could hear. “Collin is right, you know. You’re living very dangerously looking the way you do tonight, Cameron Lynde.” He brushed his thumb over hers before leaving.

Cameron watched as Jack headed over to a bar table by the door where the two FBI agents from the Detroit office sat. She sipped her wine and took her time simply enjoying the view of him.

He’d brought her a drink and complimented the way she looked. This fake date of hers was starting to seem more real every minute.

She turned to Collin. “It means that I’m the stupidest person in the world, right? That I’m actually excited and happy despite having a psycho killer stalking me?”

Collin peered down at her. “I think you know what it means.”

He clinked his glass to hers.

LATER THAT EVENING, Jack sat in bed, the pillow propped behind his back, while he talked on his cell phone. He’d called Wilkins to see if there had been any developments in the investigation, hoping that something had panned out with one of the Chicago cops his partner had spoken to. So far, unfortunately, none of them appeared to have leaked any information about Cameron’s involvement in the case.

“How’s it going on your end?” Wilkins asked. “You having any fun up there?”

Of course, Cameron chose that moment to poke her head out of the bathroom. “Hey—is there a trick to getting hot water in this place?”

“You have to let the faucet run for a good five minutes.”

Jack turned back to his phone call.

“You’re sharing a room with her, huh?” Wilkins asked.

Jack thought of how Cameron looked in that caramel-colored dress. He’d never seen her wear her hair like that before, nor that sultry thing she’d done with her eye makeup. She’d looked sophisticated yet incredibly beddable, and as a result, he’d been at half-mast all evening. Full-mast when he’d watched her eat the maraschino cherry from Collin’s drink. Thank God he’d been standing behind a table at the time.

He ended the conversation before Wilkins started asking those kinds of questions Wilkins liked to ask, questions Jack had no intention of answering. He was a private person to start with, and when it came to Cameron, even more so. He hung up the phone and rested his head against the headboard.

He knew what he had to do. It killed him, but he knew.

He grabbed his computer and tried to distract himself with work. He didn’t have a whole heck of a lot of success with that, which was exactly the problem.

Cameron finished up in the bathroom and stepped out. The first thing Jack noticed was her outfit.

He frowned. “Don’t you have anything less skimpy than that?”

Cameron glanced down at her sleeping attire, one of those velour tracksuit things. “I’m wearing pants, a T-shirt, and a zip-up hoodie.”

Jack grunted his displeasure.

Cameron came around the side of her bed that was closer to his. “Somebody seems a little cranky.”

Yes, somebody was. Because somebody was trying to do the right thing despite the fact that somebody else apparently wanted to torture him with—sweet Jesus she was bending over the bed right in front of him to adjust the pillows, and those velour pants stretched tight across her amazing ass that would fit perfectly in his hands as he licked—

“That’s it, lights out. We have a big day ahead.” Jack flicked off the lamp on the nightstand and the last thing he saw was Cameron’s bewildered expression before the room went dark. He didn’t care. If he so much as looked at her right then, he’d be done for.

“So I take it that means we’re going to sleep now.” Through the darkness, she sounded somewhat amused.

Jack debated over his next course of action. He got out of bed and went over to hers. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he could see her underneath the covers, outlined by the moonlight. He sat down on the bed next to her.

“I’m trying to stay focused here, Cameron. My first priority this weekend has to be to keep you safe.”

“Of course—I was just teasing, Jack.”

“I need to be extra vigilant tomorrow, especially now that I know the wedding is going to be outside. That changes the game—more than ever, I can’t be distracted.”

“I understand. Really, you don’t have to say anything else.”

In the moonlight, her eyes shimmered up at him like stones in a stream. Unable to resist, he reached out and touched her long, dark hair that fanned over the pillow. “I think I’ll be glad when this wedding is over.”

He could see her smile. “You and pretty much every person who’s had contact with Amy over the last eight months.”

“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page with this.” Jack pulled the blanket up to her shoulders. “Now—no matter what happens next, keep these covers up. Think of it as the twenty-first century version of the Walls of Jericho.”

She looked at him in confusion. “Okay . . .”

“Promise me, Cameron. No matter what happens.”

“I promise. But why?”

“Because I’m going to kiss you good night.” With that, he leaned forward and captured her mouth with his. She threaded her hand through his hair and kissed him back, meeting his tongue hungrily with hers. The next thing Jack knew, he was on the bed with her pinned beneath him. Underneath the blanket, she spread her legs and he sank between them greedily. He was hard as a rock and throbbing being this close to her, and when she arched her hips against him, he nearly lost it.

“You’re going to ruin me as an agent,” he murmured huskily. “Once I get inside you, I’m not going to be able to think about anything else except doing it again and again.” His hands went to the edge of the covers. Bullets hadn’t stopped him, and this was a blanket. “I’ll make it so fucking good for you. . . .” He kissed her neck, her throat, wanting to go lower, wanting to taste her everywhere.

Cameron exhaled unsteadily. “You are so not playing fair.” But she didn’t let go of the covers.

Jack buried his head in the pillow, struggling for that last shred of control. He lifted himself off the bed and grabbed his gun off the nightstand.

He handed it to her. “Take it.”

Her eyes went wide, a mixture of surprise and amusement. “Okay. If I have to shoot you to keep you away from me, I think we should just throw in the towel and say screw it to the wedding.”

“It’s not for me. I want you to keep your eye on the door for the next five minutes. I’m going to take a cold shower.”

Twenty-four

“WILL YOU JUST sleep with him already?”

Cameron looked around the salon. “Maybe you could say that just a little louder, Ame. I’m not sure everyone heard you over the hairdryers.”

Thankfully, Jack was waiting up front, sparing her at least some embarrassment from her friend’s comment. When they’d first arrived, he’d conducted a check of the entire spa and salon area, then had positioned himself by the door that was the only way in and out.

She and Amy sat next to each other, getting the finishing touches on their makeup. “There are a few things going on with us right now, you know,” Cameron said pointedly. “Like that slightly sticky issue with me being attacked in my home by an armed intruder.”

Amy immediately looked contrite. “You’re right—that was a silly thing to say. You have a lot more important things to worry about than my wedding.”

Cameron and Amy shared a look in the mirror.

“Wow. I even shocked myself with that one.” Amy grinned. “Well, luckily, you’ll be done having to put up with me in just a few hours. I bet you can’t wait.”

“Don’t be crazy—there’s no place I’d rather be this weekend than right here. Even if you have been a royal pain in the ass.”

Amy laughed and wiped her eyes. “Stop, you’re going to make me cry with all this mushy crap.”

The makeup artist applying Amy’s blush pointed sternly. “Don’t touch your eyes. This is some of my best work.”

The purple-haired, multi-tattooed and pierced cosmetologist doing Cameron’s makeup chimed in with her orders. “Look at the ground.”

Cameron obeyed, trying not to blink as the woman put a second coat of mascara on her lashes.

“That’s waterproof, right?” she heard Amy ask her technician.

“Of course,” he assured her.

“You can look up now,” Purple Hair said when she had finished.

Cameron peered back up at Amy in the mirror. “Besides, I generally have this rule about not sleeping with a guy until he’s taken me out on some kind of date.”

“When he saves your life, I think you can bypass that part.”

“He did have dinner delivered the other night, although I think the FBI picked up the tab. Do you think I can count that?”

Purple Hair stopped dusting blush over Cameron’s cheeks. “Hold up. Are you talking about the dark-haired guy who came in with you? The one who searched me before I could do your makeup?”

Cameron grimaced. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be—it was the highlight of my month.” Purple Hair threw her a get-real stare. “That’s the guy you’re holding out on? Sweetie, you need to grab that stallion and ride him like a cowgirl.”

“I . . . don’t really know you, but thanks for the advice.”

Purple Hair winked. “Comes with the makeup. What do you think?”

Cameron checked herself out in the mirror. They’d left her hair down, with waves and a lot more volume than she could ever replicate on her own. And the makeup, which had felt like a lot going on, looked perfect and made her lips look fuller, her cheekbones more defined, and added a sparkle to her eyes. “It looks nice.”

Amy snorted. “Nice? Give it a rest.” She came up in the chair behind her, looking mismatched yet still elegant with her hair pulled back in an elaborate twist under her veil, and her jeans and white button-down shirt. She put her arms around Cameron. “You’re lucky I love you so much, to let you look like that on my wedding day.”

“You look gorgeous, Ame.” No exaggerating there—minus the jeans and button-down shirt, Amy was the very picture of a blonde, fairy-tale beauty. “Aaron is going to be knocked off his feet when he sees you coming down the aisle.”

“He better not be. That’ll look terrible on the wedding video.”

The two women shared a laugh, and Amy inhaled excitedly. “So? Want to help me get into my dress?”

Cameron nodded. “You bet.”