Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“Of course.” Cam plated two slices of French toast and turned in Etinette’s arms. “You love my French toast. Here.”
“Ironic that you can cook French toast and I cannot.” Etinette tipped up to her toes and laid a lingering kiss on Cam’s lips. He pressed back, brushing a hand across her vibrant hair.
Jo’s body, so hot moments before, froze over like a pond in deep winter. All her emotions—hurt and hope, fear and disappointment—lay trapped beneath a thick layer of ice. Drowning.
She stood up and scraped most of her uneaten food into the garbage disposal. She loaded her plate and coffee mug into the small dishwasher without looking at the couple whispering to each other in French.
Cam’s hand lay at the base of Etinette’s spine, in almost the exact position he’d held Jo moments before. Jo swallowed around the emotion burning a hole in her throat. He had just transported her back to another time. She was fifteen years old. It had taken all of her courage, but she had asked Cam to the Sadie Hawkins dance. He’d turned her down, saying he was busy that night, but she had known it was a lie.
He has told you in every way imaginable this isn’t going to happen. Where’s your pride?
“I’m gonna go, guys.”
Cam glanced over Etinette’s shoulder, his handsome face an indifferent plane showing no emotion except polite interest.
“Should I call you a cab?”
“Cam, my driver could take her.” Etinette turned bright blue eyes Jo’s way. “I have a driver.”
“So do I.” Jo grabbed her phone and earphones from the counter. “Pierce will take me to the hospital.”
Jo met Cam’s eyes, new resolve squaring her shoulders and straightening her spine. If Cam did want her and she wasn’t imagining it, he didn’t want to want her. And he didn’t want to do anything about it. And apparently he was willing to hurt her so she would get the message.
Message received, buddy. Loud and clear.
Jo took her shower and offered a hasty good-bye to the lovebirds. She dared her tears to fall on the ride to the hospital. Posture erect, she sat in the backseat of the limo, watching the city in flashes through the window. She folded her hands in her lap and crossed her ankles. She swaddled herself in composure and blinked until the tears in her eyes got the message and dried up.
She visited with her family, making sure Meredith and Mama Jess were providing everything Walsh and Kerris needed. And then she hopped on the Walsh Foods jet and headed back to Rivermont. She never looked back. And promised herself she never would again.
Chapter Six
Cam stood at the open refrigerator door, staring at the empty shelves. Mayonnaise and a block of multicolored government cheese. Mama hadn’t shopped for groceries…again. The only thing in his hungry stomach was a growl. He tried to remember the last thing he had eaten. Dried out pizza, one lousy fruit cup, and a pile of mashed potatoes at the cafeteria yesterday. He’d eaten everything on his plate and anything his friends had left because he’d known what was coming.
The weekend.
Weekends were the worst. At least Monday through Friday he could count on free lunch at school, even if dinner was never guaranteed. If it was a good night and Mama had customers…well, after they were done, there would be a little cash. Mama would send him out for McDonald’s or whatever was cheap and open. He didn’t know how to feel about those nights. Was a Big Mac worth it? Worth the sounds the men made when they screwed Mama? She told him not to say “fuck,” even though some of his friends already said it. Mama didn’t make much sense sometimes. He couldn’t say fuck, but she could do it for money with men she didn’t know. Even at ten years old, Cam knew there was something wrong with that.
Cam noticed a bag of Wonder Bread on the counter. He hoped there wasn’t anything furry and blue or green on the bread. All the slices had mold, except for two. Cam fist pumped because that was all he needed. He made the most pitiful lunch ever, a mayonnaise sandwich. It wasn’t his first and probably wouldn’t be his last. If you were hungry, a mayonnaise sandwich tasted as good as the cubed steak they got sometimes on Thursdays at the school cafeteria.
The apartment wasn’t much bigger than one of their food stamps, so when the door opened, there was nowhere to hide. The living room and kitchen crawled on top of each other in the cramped space, and there was no way someone could enter the place and not be seen. So Cam saw the big man as soon as he walked in, infecting the room with the sweet, musky blend of nasty cologne and his BO.