The Dysfunctional Test (9 page)

Justin laughed. “I was thinking more along the lines of just us with the girls.”

Troy tried to picture Camryn on a horse and couldn’t. “FYI, Justin, we’ve never been this…rural.”

“Oh relax,” Fisher said. “It’ll be fine. Emily wants a pony. She’d love riding.”

Justin pulled out his cell. “Horseback riding it is,” he said while texting. After a few moments, he got an incoming text. “Jessie says the day after tomorrow would be better. You guys will love her.”

What Troy was going to love was the look on Cam’s face when she found out he’d agreed to this. Moreover, watching her mount a horse. He shook his head and grinned. “Cam’s gonna kill me.”

Fisher eyed him speculatively. “Since when do you give a damn what a woman thinks? You can handle Cam.”

Justin glared at Fisher. “Have you met your sister? Attila the Hun is less intimidating.”

Tim sat back as if enjoying the show. “This almost makes me miss being young.”

“I haven’t been on a horse since Girl Scouts,” Camryn said and sat next to him on the bed, towel drying her hair from the family’s after-dinner swim. “If I remember right, I couldn’t walk for a week.”

Troy set the remote down. One hundred channels and nothing on. “My concern exactly.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “You’re not mad?”

“Should I be?”

He was kind of expecting it, yeah.

She pulled the sheet up to her chest and leaned against the headboard, opening a book. He looked at the name on the back cover, noting his favorite author. She was holding the last book in the series. He wouldn’t have pegged her as a horror fan. “Is that one any good?”

She kept reading. “It doesn’t have pictures. You wouldn’t like it.”

“Ouch.”

She grinned but didn’t look up. His chest did some kind of strange constriction. Cam didn’t smile much, especially like this. With no one watching, no one to impress, she seemed almost carefree. He wanted more.

Grabbing the book from her, he held it above his head. “I read books without pictures.”

Her eyebrows rose, but she didn’t make a move for the book. “Comic books don’t count.”

“For your information,” he said, “I’ve read this whole series. Garrett Croft is supposed to die in this book, after the soul of his wife is freed.”

Those crazy huge eyes of hers widened. “He does read.”

“I’m literate too.”

She laughed, a rustic, low sound born of sheer fantasy, and his heart all but ruptured. He could feel the smirk falling from his face, his arm lowering to the bed, but his gaze darted to her mouth. Small, pink. The bottom lip a little fuller than the top.

“Can I have the book back now?” she asked, smile still in place.

He wracked his brain for something else clever to say, just to hear that laugh again, but his mind drew a blank. He handed the book back. “You ever read King?”

“Sometimes. Not often. He goes off on too many tangents.”

This time, he grinned. He felt the same way. “What about fantasy or romance? Might loosen you up a bit. Give you some wild ideas.”

“I don’t do wild ideas.”

She didn’t do public displays of affection either, but she’d kissed him in front of the family. Before he could look at her mouth again, remember that kiss, he reached behind his neck and pulled off his shirt. He clicked off the TV and flopped on his back.

“Do you seriously read romance books?”

He closed his eyes and smiled. “Good sex scenes.”

“They’re as bad as the movies. So unrealistic.”

He opened one eye and looked at her. “And the demons in horror books are realistic?”

Turning on the bed to face him, she crossed her legs. “Well, no, but that’s obvious fiction. Romance gives people the impression that love like that exists.”

Not even she was that jaded. He leaned on his elbows. “Love like that
does
exist.”

She whipped him a look of improbability. “Oh, come on. Happily ever after and dancing in the rain and one true love you can’t live without?”

She
was
that jaded. It broke his heart a little. He sat up. “You don’t believe in love?”

“Of course I believe in love. I love my family. I’ve been in love. But soul mates and other nonsense? No.”

He couldn’t believe his ears. What had happened to her that she couldn’t believe in miracles and happiness? “Then you’ve never been in love, Camryn Covic. What a shame.” Her lips pursed. He shook his head. “Have you never done anything silly in your life? Wished on a star, laughed until it hurt, fallen in love?”

She gave him a blank stare.

He rose and walked to the French doors on her side of the bed. There was no rain to dance in, but there were stars. “Come here.”

She sighed. “Okay, Troy. I get it. You’re a romantic. Never mind.”

She didn’t get it. He held out his hand. “Come here, Camryn.”

After an epic stare down, she resigned herself and stood.

He opened the doors and stepped out onto the small balcony. He directed her to the railing to face the open expanse of the Hortons’ yard. Standing behind her, he locked her in place with his arms and held the railing in front of her. Resting his chin on the top of her head, he breathed deep. Cool, clean air. Pine. The night was significantly cooler than the day. When a breeze came, he smelled lemongrass, reminding him of the moment with her in his house just a few days before.

“What are we doing, Troy?”

Being silly
. His mouth dropped to her ear. “Pick a star.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

She must’ve sensed he wouldn’t let her go until she cooperated. She sighed and pointed above the mountains in the far distance. “That one. Can I go in now?”

“No,” he said, smiling into her hair. So soft. “Make a wish. Out loud.”

“No. This is stupid.”

He grinned. “Make a wish, Camryn. For anything.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, so he dropped his hold to her waist. Her T-shirt skimmed the elastic of her boxers, exposing a trace of skin beneath his thumbs.

“Fine,” she said. “I wish I would find a job right away when we get back to Milwaukee.”

Always work with her. Lemongrass filled his nose again, and it was starting to have an effect on him. He cleared his throat. “Pick another star. Make another wish.”

“Troy…”

“Camryn,” he shot back in the same dry tone.

She pointed to their right, and her hair brushed his collarbone. “That one. I wish my family behaves the rest of this trip.”

None of these wishes were for her. Not for something she wanted deep down in that place even she forgot about. A wish for something crazy and unrealistic. “Find another star. Close your eyes and wish to yourself. Something you’ve always wanted but didn’t think you’d get.”

“Like world peace?”

He bit his tongue and shook his head. “For you, Camryn. Make a wish for you. And don’t tell me what it is.”

She looked up, exposing her neck, making her hair dance over his chest. His jaw clenched as everything south of his chest responded. To her. To Camryn of all people. His breath held. His thumbs brushed the soft, warm skin under her shirt.

“Done,” she said after a few moments, and turned in his arms. “Can we go in…?”

“Camryn,” he forced out, the thin strand of control tethering. Her eyes widened and looked at him. Hazel in a sea of blackness. He made a sound, part whimper, part moan.
God, no
. “I’m going to kiss you again.”

“But no one’s here to see. It’s not necessary.”

“No,” he whispered. “It isn’t necessary. Not at all.”

Yet his mouth closed over hers anyway, and the faintness of her lips, the scent of her, had the insane part of him wanting more. More than he could give her. More than she would give him.

Nothing had changed from this afternoon. Like a punch to the gut, the kiss shocked him. She shocked him. The sheer pleasure and torture. Her lips parted against his, and as she deepened the kiss this time, he pressed against her. Her fingers dug into his biceps, riling hunger to a whole new plane. His fingers spread over her sides, her tummy, so soft under his calloused hands.

How could anyone think her cold? If he had less sense he’d take her right now. Right here under the moonlight with nothing but a breeze between them. If she hadn’t been the first person in his life to make him feel worthy of love, back when he was an awkward, scared kid just wanting to be left alone…

He tore his mouth from hers and sucked in air. Grabbing the railing behind her, he dropped his head to her chest and tried to reason with his body to calm down. Her hand came down on his head, threaded his hair between her fingers. His eyes slammed shut.

This was not happening. Not. Happening.

He was not, could not, would not have feelings for Camryn.

Walk away. Walk away from her.

“Shit,” he ground out and lifted his head, not daring to look her in the eye. He backed up right into the door and turned. “Good night, Camryn.”

Shaking, Camryn shut the balcony door and walked inside their room to the adjoining bath without looking at Troy. She closed the door quietly and ran hot water in the massive tub before stripping to get in. Bringing her knees to her chest, she let the water warm her.

Troy had kissed her. No one was around this time, so it wasn’t for show. So why, then? At first he acted like he wanted to. She wasn’t an idiot, she could feel his response. But then he backed away, a look of pure horror on his face.

And her heart fell as hard as her mood. Like a slap to the face, reality came.

Maxwell was right. She had no passion, no appeal. As cold as a fish and just as unattractive.

She pressed a hand over her mouth to hide the cries and dropped her head to her knees. With Maxwell, the things he said hurt. But with Troy, just for a second, she wanted to be more. Wanted to be somebody he wanted. Someone fun and beautiful.

Someone she wasn’t.

Served her right for wanting what she couldn’t have. For thinking she could be like his other women. How could she face him now? How could she look him in the eye and pretend she hadn’t been humiliated beyond recognition?

Pretend it didn’t matter.

She’d been doing it her entire life. The black sheep, the ugly sister, the boring colleague. She’d been hiding pain from those around her long before Troy and this wedding. She could do it now. And would. Rising, she dried off and redressed. Drawing in a deep breath, she turned the knob and stepped out.

Troy was asleep in bed, his back to her. Padding across the hardwood, she slid under the sheets, and turned off the lamp quietly to not wake him.

Turning on her side, she stared out the French doors into the night. He’d made her wish on a star. She’d never felt so stupid in her life. As a kid she used to do that, until she realized wishes were frivolous, silly things. A waste of time. Wishes didn’t come true, especially for her.

But when he told her to close her eyes and cast a wish out, she was eight years old again, wishing for things that would never come.

Wishing for someone like Troy to want her.

“Camryn,” he whispered. He hadn’t rolled over, so his back was still to hers. She barely heard him. When he didn’t say anything again, she figured she imagined it until another, “Camryn,” whispered out.

“Yes?”

“About what happened out there…”

No. No way was he going to add to her humiliation by apologizing. “It’s okay, Troy. This is a long time for you to go without someone. I know it meant nothing.”

Her chest felt like it was cracking open. She pressed a hand there to quell the pain. When he didn’t confirm or deny her statement, she closed her eyes, hoping for sleep.

“What did you wish for?” he asked several moments later.

Her eyes opened and focused on the stars again. Why did he make her go out there and do that? To make fun of her, make her look as stupid as she felt? “You said not to tell you.”

And I’m not telling you the truth. That’s more embarrassment than even I can tolerate.

The bed shifted when he rolled to his back behind her. “I want to know. Please.”

No, he definitely did not. She bit her tongue, forced her voice to sound normal. “Rain. I wished for rain.”

Chapter Six

Life Lessons According to Camryn:

The old saying is wrong. Life is easy, it’s the darn people who make it difficult.

Around the breakfast table everyone chatted about making plans for the day. Camryn sat sipping her coffee, thinking about running away from the herd and going on a hike or taking a solitary swim in the pool. One of the staff came by and filled her cup.

Staff. She wasn’t used to people waiting on her, even if they were silent and hardly noticeable. There were only a couple of women here now, unlike when they first arrived. One did the cooking, the other served and cleaned. Bernice said she wanted to be free to spend time with them instead of worrying about those things. More staff were coming later in the week for the rehearsal and wedding itself.