Kitabı oku: «Sexy, Single And Searching», sayfa 2
2
“CAN I HELP YOU with something, Sugar Plum?”
Mack struggled hard not to laugh. His restraint was evident in the tightening of his thigh muscles, the wheezy quality of his voice rumbling from his chest. Chagrined, Cammie Jo’s head bobbed up as quickly as it had gone down.
She gulped. You could have fried an egg on her cheeks, they were that hot.
She wanted to explain, but just ended up mumbling incoherently, “I…bub…er…mum…ah…I…”
Desperately, she swiveled around in her seat, snapped her seat belt back in place and forced her gaze on the toe of her boot.
“Bear Creek usually makes a strong impression on people as we fly down in through the mountain pass. Some folks sigh. Others giggle with delight. I’ll have to admit no one’s had quite the same reaction as you.”
She was horrified at what she’d done. She could never face this man again. She would wait out the rest of her vacation in the B&B, then find herself another bush pilot to fly her back to Anchorage. She buried her face in her hands.
“We do go in at a steep angle,” he said, all traces of humor disappearing from his tone. “I should have warned you. I can see where your first up-close-and-personal view of the mountain might be scary.”
Oh great! Now he was feeling sorry for her. She didn’t know which was worse—being seen as a joke or a tragic figure.
“We’re landing on the water.” He leaned over to point out her window, bringing with him the scent of his soap and the foreign—at least to her unsophisticated nose—aroma of delectable man. “Just to forewarn you.”
Well, duh. She could have figured that out from the pontoons attached to the landing gear. Where was Mr. Reassuring Tour Guide when the plane was aiming straight for the mountain. Hmmm?
Cammie Jo spread her fingers and peeked out at the little town circling the bay. A couple of docked cruise ships and a plethora of other floatplanes were parked next to planked piers. She spotted salmon boats and kayaks paddling up smaller tributaries, while sailboats sluiced gracefully through the cove.
She forgot to be scared as Mack circled the inlet and curiosity vanquished her shame. She dropped her hands for a better look and studied the neat row of rustic houses and storefronts bordering the main avenue.
Bear Creek was gorgeous.
A rush of emotion swept over her. An odd sense of belonging. Even though she hadn’t been born here, even though she’d yet to set foot in this place, the bedtime stories her mother had told her about the magnificent state of Alaska bubbled up in her consciousness.
She felt as if she’d come home.
I’m having my first adventure, she thought, amazed. My first real honest to gosh adventure.
Now, if only she could work up the courage to try kayaking herself or salmon fishing, or maybe even join a group of hikers headed into the mountains.
She wanted so much and frankly, the intensity of these new desires alarmed her.
Mack set the floatplane down in the bay. A teenage boy waited on the dock to tie it up when they coasted to a stop. The teen helped her out of the plane, then took her bags from the cargo hold.
“This way, miss,” he said.
Cammie Jo looked at Mack. “Aren’t you coming?”
His eyes when they met hers were gentle. “I’ve got more passengers to pick up in Anchorage. Jimmy Jones will drive you to the B&B.”
“Oh, well then. I guess this is goodbye.”
Should she offer to shake his hand? Should she tip him? Cammie Jo juggled her carry-on bags and her purse, but by the time she got her hand free, Mack had already turned back to the plane.
Her heart told her stomach to scoot over because it was coming right on down. Her earlier euphoria at seeing Bear Creek dissipated.
He had already dismissed her. Out of sight, out of mind.
“Miss?”
Cammie Jo gave her attention to the smiling young man carrying her heavier luggage up the pier toward a vintage yellow touring car with Taxi printed on the door in bold black lettering. Already a few other passengers were seated inside.
“This way,” the teen prodded.
Okay, well, fine. She didn’t need Mack McCaulley to guide her through town. She would survive just dandy on her own. That’s what grand adventures were all about.
Right?
She struggled up the walkway. Her bags were too darned bulky and she tripped over a raised plank. Falling down didn’t hurt much—she was wearing lots of padding—but the giggles from inside the taxi skinned her pride.
And when she glanced back over her shoulder she saw that not only had Mack witnessed her third humiliation of the day but he was shaking his head to himself. Tears sprang to her eyes. Blinking them away, she pushed her glasses up on her nose.
I’m tough. I’m tough. I’m tough, she mentally chanted but she knew she was seriously deluding herself.
Jimmy, seeing for the first time she had taken a spill, rushed over to help her, but it was too late. What little courage she’d managed to drum up evaporated. Then, when she found herself settled into the taxi with four women so beautiful they could have stepped from the pages of Metropolitan magazine, Cammie Jo’s spirits joined her heart and her stomach in the bottom of her boots.
The women didn’t bother to introduce themselves. Since she certainly wasn’t comfortable initiating conversation with sleek-haired cover model types, she just leaned back against the seat, closed her eyes and pretended to nap on the quarter-mile journey to Jake Gerard’s bed-and-breakfast establishment positioned smack in the middle of town.
The lobby of the B&B was packed with additional attractive women and tons of ruggedly handsome men chatting them up. No one noticed her. She felt like a holey old gym sock stuffed in a drawer full of sexy lingerie. Now Cammie Jo remembered why she rarely ventured away from the world of academia.
Cammie Jo inched over to the front desk. She recognized the guy behind the counter as another one of the bachelors. He smiled at her.
“Hi, I’m Jake.”
Too shy to speak directly to such a handsome man, she rummaged through her purse for the reservation confirmation slip the magazine had mailed to her.
At first she couldn’t find it. Jake’s scrutiny made her sweat. Perspiration pooled in the hollow of her neck, then slid slowly down her breasts.
Ack! She had too much junk. She moved aside her hairbrush and her wallet. And there was that ugly amulet taking up so much room.
“What’s that?” Jake pointed to the totem.
Highly flustered, she pretended not know what he was talking about. “Oh, that’s a roll of peppermint candy.”
“Not that.” He pointed blatantly at the necklace, but she chose to pretend she didn’t understand.
“That’s my lip balm.”
“No, no, the other thing.”
“What other thing?” When all else fails, play dumb.
Jake’s eyes were glued to the totem. Why wouldn’t he stop staring at it? For goodness’ sake, it was embarrassing enough just having the item in her purse.
“Looks like an Aleut fertility totem to me. Very powerful stuff.”
“It’s not.” She snatched the necklace from her purse and jammed the unsightly thing into her pocket, safely out of Jake’s line of vision.
“Better be careful with it,” Jake warned and then winked. “Fertility totems possess potent magic.”
When she realized he was flirting with her, Cammie Jo’s face heated. She ducked her head and kept digging through her purse. Her hands shook. Finally she found the piece of paper and passed it across the desk to him.
He read it and said, “Welcome to Bear Creek, Camryn Josephine. We’re so glad to have you. Congratulations on winning the contest.”
Cammie Jo nodded. Her aunts had entered her under her full given name and that’s how the magazine had made her reservations. Except it seemed they’d forgotten the Lockhart part. Never mind. Josephine was her mother’s maiden name, and she liked using it. Besides, she wanted to get away from this desk as quickly as possible.
Jake handed her a key. “You’ve got the best room in the house. Number 12. Your luggage will be delivered shortly.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
“Oh, and if you want to sign up for any excursions, just let me know. Metropolitan is picking up the tab.”
“Excursions?”
“You know, salmon fishing, mountain-biking tours, that sort of thing.” He eyed Cammie Jo. “Although you might prefer something a little less strenuous. There’s a guided hike of the Tongass National Forest scheduled for tomorrow morning at seven.” He handed her a brochure. “Are you interested?”
Cammie Jo nodded, anxious to get up to her room where she could regroup. “Sounds fine.”
“Good. I’ll book you.”
Keeping her gaze on the floor, Cammie Jo scurried through the mob of people gathered around the staircase. She was wandering down the corridor, searching for room 12, when she saw the dog.
A Siberian husky.
Cammie Jo stopped, caught her breath.
She loved dogs but because of Aunt Coco’s allergies, she’d never been able to have one. She put her bags down and sank to a crouch.
“Come here,” she cooed.
In an instant the dog was at her side. Cammie Jo rubbed the pooch’s belly.
“I see you’ve met Jake’s dog, Lulu.”
She hadn’t heard him approach. She whipped her head up to see Mack grinning down at her.
Her heart did this crazy gymnastic thing.
Say something, stupid.
But her tongue lay cemented to the floor of her mouth. She couldn’t think of one intelligent thing to say. So much for being a Mensa member. Nervously, she stuffed her hand in her pocket and her fingers glided over the totem.
I wish I was brave enough to have a real conversation with this man.
Mack squatted beside Cammie Jo and scratched Lulu’s ears.
Lulu moaned in ecstasy.
He rocked forward. His knee bumped into Cammie Jo’s. If he didn’t move away soon, she would be doing a bit of moaning herself.
Pant, pant, pant.
Her right hand rubbed the dog’s belly. Mack’s left hand scratched under Lulu’s chin. He tilted his head and grinned at her in the muted hallway lighting.
“She’s adorable,” Cammie Jo ventured, keeping her gaze firmly focused on the husky.
“She’s a big old thief is what she is,” Mack said, with obvious affection.
“Not her,” Cammie Jo protested. “She’s too sweet.”
“Don’t let her looks deceive you and don’t leave anything you prize laying out. Lulu’s a kleptomaniac.”
“Surely you exaggerate?”
He shook his head. “Nope. She steals whatever she can get her teeth on. Jewelry, candy, socks, pens, car keys.”
Lulu whined and gave them an I-was-framed expression, as if she knew her thieving habits were the topic of conversation.
“Yeah, we’re talking about you,” Mack assured the dog. He stood and leaned nonchalantly with one shoulder against the wall.
Cammie Jo glanced up and realized she was eye level with the zipper of his blue jeans. Unnerved, she shot to her feet.
Mack’s eyes met hers.
She gulped then blurted, “Uh…what are you doing here? I thought you had to pick up more passengers in Anchorage.”
“I do,” he said.
Her hurly-burly heart lub-dubbed. Had he come looking for her? But why would he do that? His presence seemed so intimate, so cozy, so wrong. And yet her blood was singing through her veins like a chorus of Christmas carolers.
“Why are you here?”
“I found something under the passenger seat of my plane. Thought this might have fallen out of your luggage.”
“Oh?” She arched an eyebrow. No telling what she might have dropped in her haste to get away from him. “What is it?”
From his pocket he withdrew a thin scrap of scarlet silk and stretched it over his palm.
Cammie Jo pushed her glasses up on her nose and stared at what he held in his hand.
A pair of thong undies.
How in the world did women wear these silly things without getting a permanent wedgie? Just the idea of putting them on made her squirm with discomfort.
“Although,” he continued, “this type of undergarment doesn’t really seem your style. I thought it might belong to one of my previous passengers. I feel like Prince Charming going door to door trying to find the Cinderella that fits these panties.”
Normally, she would have been embarrassed witnessing a handsome man handle dainty undies, but the smug look on his face irritated her to the point where she just snapped. He was so certain she was a boring fuddy-duddy, that she would never wear something as brazen as this—which of course she wouldn’t, but he had no right to make such an assumption about her—that Cammie Jo fibbed.
“Yes, they are mine.” She snatched the panties from his grasp and thrust out her jaw, daring him to contradict her.
The expression of surprise on his face made her feel something she’d never felt before. Boldness? She prodded the emotion. No, not quite boldness, something saucier than mere audacity.
She rested her hands on her hips. His eyes tracked her movements. He gazed at her as if trying to picture her in that thong. He shook his head as if he couldn’t even visualize it.
Cammie Jo notched her chin upward and looked just above the top of his head. A trick she’d learned in graduate school when she had to give lectures to undergrads. Don’t make eye contact and you’ll be okay.
“What did you think? That I wear white cotton, high-waisted granny panties?”
Which was indeed exactly what she had on beneath her clothes. Aunt Hildegard did everyone’s underwear shopping during the twice-a-year white sales, and Cammie Jo had never cared enough about the issue to buy her own panties. But she would roll over and die before she would admit such a thing to Mack, who thought he had her pegged right down to her choice of lingerie.
“I never said that.” A speculative note crept into his voice and in that moment Cammie Jo was able to label the amazing new sensation churning inside her.
By gum, she was feeling cocky. Puffed up with pride and ready to take whatever he dished out.
“I’m much more than I appear on the surface, Mr. McCaulley. Still waters run deep.”
“Apparently so.” He seemed a bit taken aback.
“Thong undies are just the tip of the iceberg.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes it is.”
“Okay, then. I believe you. They’re your panties. Mystery solved.”
“Anything else?” she sassed. She was astonished, pleased and giddy with the thrill of her new-found bravado.
“Nooo. Guess that’s it.”
It was only later, after he’d sauntered away, that Cammie Jo realized from whence her unexpected bravery had sprung.
The treasured wish totem resting in her pocket.
3
ONCE SHE WAS safely ensconced in her room, Cammie Jo took off some of her layers of clothing and moved to stare out the window overlooking Main Street.
People crowded the road, wandering in and out of the shops and restaurants. Honestly, she hadn’t expected so much activity. Crowds made her nervous.
Everything makes you nervous. Like good-looking bush pilots.
A sudden rap at the door startled her so much she almost fell off the window seat.
Was it Mack?
Holding her breath, Cammie Jo crept to the door. Rats! No peephole. And no chain.
Timidly, she cracked the door open and peeked out. A gorgeous woman who looked like the actress Charlize Theron stood there smiling at her, a pen and notebook in her hand.
“Hi,” she said.
“Uh, hi,” Cammie Jo responded, impressed with the woman’s smartly tailored clothes and flawless skin.
“I’m Kay Freemont with Metropolitan magazine, and I’m the one who picked your entry to win the free vacation. I’d like to interview you if I may.”
“Oh.” Cammie Jo opened the door wider. “Come on in.”
Kay stepped into the room and Cammie Jo closed the door behind her.
“Did you come all the way from New York just to interview me?”
“No.” Kay’s smile crinkled the corners of her brown eyes. Cammie Jo realized that even though Kay looked very worldly and sophisticated, she was only a couple of years older than her own twenty-five years. “I live in Bear Creek now.”
Cammie Jo gestured at the window seat, not all that comfortable with playing hostess. She glanced over at the totem, which she’d placed on the dresser after that scary-but-thrilling encounter with Mack in the hallway. She wasn’t quite sure if she was ready to handle the consequences of wearing the necklace.
“Thank you.” Kay sat by the window while Cammie Jo perched on the end of the bed.
She ran her palms over the tops of her thighs, a habit of hers when she was nervous or uncertain.
“Relax.” Kay’s smile deepened. “This won’t hurt a bit, I promise.”
“I’ve never been away from home before,” Cammie Jo confessed.
“Alaska can be overwhelming, even for a world traveler,” Kay assured her. “I first came here in February. Talk about overpowering.” She shook her head. “So tell me, Cammie Jo, why are you interested in becoming a wilderness wife?”
“What?”
“You did enter the contest hoping to meet the bachelor of your dreams, didn’t you?” Kay sat, pen poised over notebook waiting for Cammie Jo’s response. “Although I’ve got to tell you, Quinn’s no longer on the market.” Laughing, Kay held up her left hand to show off a diamond engagement ring. “We’re getting married next month.”
“Hey, that’s great.”
“So.” Kay lowered her voice. “Which bachelor are you interested in?”
“Can I be honest with you?” Cammie Jo shifted on the thick comforter.
“By all means.”
They talked for a long while. Cammie Jo told her about her great-aunts, and how their attempts to shelter her had resulted in Cammie Jo being afraid of her own shadow.
“So getting married is really the last thing on my mind,” Cammie Jo said. “I need to stretch my wings and fly. I need to discover who I am before I’ll ever be ready for marriage. I hope that doesn’t disqualify me from the free vacation.”
Kay shook her head. “Your reasons are your own. You won the contest fair and square. If you’re not interested in any of the bachelors, that’s fine. I don’t think they will suffer. Ever since the article ran women have been arriving in Bear Creek by the hundreds. It’s a modern-day gold rush but instead of gold, the hunt is on for eligible men.”
No kidding. Cammie Jo had seen the hordes of women strolling the streets of Bear Creek.
Kay smiled. “The bachelors, in conjunction with the magazine, are throwing a party tonight at the community center across the road. Seven o’clock and you’re the guest of honor.”
Cammie Jo ducked her head. “I’m really not much on parties.”
“Now, now, didn’t you come here to overcome shyness? A party is a great way to start.”
“But I don’t have anything appropriate to wear.”
Kay looked her up and down. “You’re a few inches shorter than I am, but I’m betting we’re the same size. What about shoes? What size do you wear?”
“Six and a half.”
“Hey, me too. Imagine that. I’ll bring over a selection of dresses and shoes. Then I’ll help you do your hair and makeup.”
Two hours later, after Kay had returned to create Cammie Jo’s metamorphosis, she stepped back from the mirror so Cammie Jo could see the results.
“Ta-da!”
Cammie Jo stared owl-eyed. No. It couldn’t be. This wasn’t her. Her pulse thundered. Her head spun. Kay was a wizard with a makeup brush.
“I can teach you how to do this for yourself if you want.”
“Oh, yes,” Cammie Jo breathed.
The woman staring back at her was a complete stranger.
This woman was beautiful.
Her eyes were not Cammie Jo’s normal blah blue but a deep shade of emerald-green, converted into something mesmerizing by the colored contacts. Her round chipmunk cheeks had disappeared. Instead it seemed as if she possessed high, sculpted cheekbones. Her lips were full and pouty; her skin as luminous as dew-kissed blades of grass.
And her hair.
Oh, her once plain brownish-blond hair! Now, it hung down her back in a myriad of loose, shiny curls. She sucked in her breath, totally stunned by the transformation.
“Wow,” she whispered. “Wow.”
“That’s what every bachelor in Bear Creek will be saying. I’ll leave you to get dressed. Gotta go change myself and meet Quinn at the community center. Come on over when you get ready.”
“Okay.” Cammie Jo nodded. “Thanks for everything.”
“You’re welcome.”
Once Kay had gone, Cammie Jo hugged herself, feeling simultaneously excited and scared. First a total makeover and now a party? Her? There would be lots of handsome men in attendance. Shivers pushed down her back. And a lot of beautiful women to compete against.
She thought about having to make conversation with strangers—it had been hard enough talking to Kay, but the woman had a journalist’s flair for drawing people out. The very idea of chit-chatting with people she didn’t know made her want to flee screaming into the wilderness.
And yet, she wanted to go so much.
Make a wish and you can have your heart’s desire.
She moved toward the dresser, picked up the necklace and wrapped one hand around the totem, tentatively rubbed it with a thumb and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.
“Please,” she whispered. “Grant me my most treasured wish. Make me strong and brave. Take away my fears, vanquish my shyness, free me from my own insecurities.”
She slipped the necklace over her head, gave a sharp “eek” of surprise at the unexpected warmth. The totem had certainly seemed to work when she’d sassed Mack in the hallway. Plus, Jake said it was an Aleut fertility totem and it possessed potent magic.
Truth be told she had the sudden urge to stand up straight, throw back her shoulders and yodel from the rooftop, “Look out Bear Creek, here comes Camryn Josephine.”
MACK COULDN’T GET enough of staring at the fine-looking women packing the streets of Bear Creek. When he and his three friends had taken out that ad, he had no idea women would appear like snow-flakes in winter.
He was loving the attention. As he’d hoped, the sorority sisters from UNLV had been a lot more fun than Tammie Jo Lockhart, although he suspected they’d had one too many cocktails on the plane.
One of the daring lasses had even pinched him on the butt when he’d unloaded their luggage. Mack wasn’t sure whether he liked that or not. He preferred daring women, sure, but there was something to be said about respecting a man’s private parts until you got to know him a little better.
He thought of tremulous Tammie Jo plunging her face into his lap when she believed the plane was crashing and Mack had to laugh. Okay, she had violated his private parts too, but not intentionally. She’d just been scared.
It was almost seven o’clock, and he was heading to the party Quinn and Kay had organized to celebrate the arrival of the contest winner. He wore a tuxedo at Kay’s insistence and he tugged at the stiff, choke-a-man collar. She’d had the four bachelors outfitted from some place in Anchorage, and he hated wearing the monkey suit. Kay had told him to get used to it since undoubtedly his bride-to-be, whoever she was, would expect him to stand at the altar in one.
Mack almost said he wasn’t marrying that kind of woman but quickly shut his mouth because that’s exactly the kind of woman Kay was. And the last thing he wanted was to hurt her feelings.
But Mack’s dream wedding would consist of something adventuresome. Like getting hitched in hiking gear atop a glacier. That’s the kind of woman he wanted for a wife. Gutsy, courageous, up for anything. The exact opposite of what his weak-willed mother had been like.
His mind was wandering down this familiar but unpleasant train of thought when from his peripheral vision he caught a glimpse of a woman strutting down the sidewalk.
She moved like a regal queen. Confident, self-assured, poised. Her hair, a tantalizing caramel color, floated down her back in a spiral of curls that made Mack think of pecan taffy, and his imagination triggered his mouth to fill with the sweet, buttery taste of nutty candy.
An incredible black dress made of some soft clingy material hugged her curves snugger than a label on a wine bottle. The skirt had this amazing little tattered hem that fluttered like a handkerchief around the most sensational calves he’d ever seen.
She was perfect. Absolutely perfect.
His mouth went dry. His eyes bugged. His palms grew sweaty on the steering wheel.
Who in the thunder was she? He hadn’t flown in any woman who looked like that over the last couple of days. He would have remembered. It must have been one of the other bush pilots. The lucky devil.
Her shoulders were thrown back, her head held high, her eyes fixed straight ahead. She stalked forward on four-inch heels like she owned the world. Instant admiration sprung in his chest. His kind of gal.
Wait a minute, what was that she was wearing around her neck?
Stunned, he stared at the lewd totem bouncing off her perky breasts and he was completely mesmerized.
So mesmerized, in fact, that when she stepped off the curb in front of him, Mack’s foot accidentally hit the accelerator instead of the brake.
Good Lord, he was about to kill a dream walking!
He slammed on the brakes while simultaneously jamming on the horn. His tires squealed in protest at the sudden pressure and his stomach vaulted into his throat.
The woman turned to look at him, an expression of shocked surprise in her wide green eyes. Mack sprang from the front seat, rounded the hood and was devastated to see that he had stopped mere inches from her gorgeous body. His heart pounded so hard he feared it would jackhammer a hole through the bottom of his foot.
At first, she leveled him an insouciant stare, as if it were all his fault. Then she blinked and said in a voice that sounded vaguely familiar. “Goodness, did I step right out in front of you?”
“Yes,” he said, feeling bashful as a boy for absolutely no good reason at all. “You did.”
“Aren’t I lucky that you have lightning-fast reflexes.”
He couldn’t stop staring at her. Couldn’t reconcile her calmness with his own flustered state of agitation. Didn’t she recognize that he had almost killed her? Or at the least given her a whoop knot bad enough to land her in the emergency ward.
“I’m sorry. I was so busy looking for the community center, I simply didn’t see you.”
His mouth hung open. He had a sudden desperate desire to touch her and it was all he could do to keep his hands to himself. “You’re going to the Metropolitan party?”
She nodded.
“Me too. Come on.” He reached out and took her by the hand. A shudder of yearning passed through him. How could one woman knock his world so completely out-of-kilter? He inhaled deeply. He couldn’t let her see how much she affected him. Not now. Not yet. “Let’s get you out of the road.”
“What?” She blinked her big green eyes at him, and he was a goner.
“Let’s get out of the road.”
“Oh. Okay.”
All right, so she wasn’t a brainiac. Big deal. She possessed a figure to make angels cry hallelujah.
Um, McCaulley, what’s number seven on your list? His conscience nudged.
Mentally Mack rolled his eyes at that nagging voice. Intelligence was number seven on his “wife” list.
He’d written down that trait for a reason. He had a tendency to get involved with beautiful but flighty airheads who thought putting down roots meant bleaching your hair.
Give this one a chance, he argued with himself. Just because she stepped out in front of his truck didn’t mean she was dumb. Everyone made mistakes. Hadn’t he hit the accelerator instead of the brake?
He settled her in the passenger seat beside him, then drove the short distance to the community center parking lot. Heads turned to stare at them when they walked up the pathway.
Where on earth had she come from? This exotic fantasy dropped into his tiny corner of Alaska.
You’re not looking for a fantasy, pal. You’re looking for a wife.
Shut up, already. I’m just walking her into the party, not getting down on one knee.
That was good because he didn’t even know if this woman was interested in getting married. Or if she was even interested in him.
And then there was that…thing she had on around her neck. What in the hell was that all about?
“Name’s Mack, by the way, Mack McCaulley.” He stuck out his hand.
She studied him a moment. “Haven’t we already met?” she asked finally in a breathy whisper.
“Oh no, ma’am. I would never forget a lady like you.”
For some reason his statement caused her to frown in displeasure when he figured she should have been flattered. What had he done wrong? Could they have met before? He paused a moment to think. Nah. He would have remembered her.
“I’m Camryn,” she said after a moment. “Camryn Josephine.”
He grinned. “Like Cameron Diaz?”
“Pronounced the same but spelled differently.”
“Still.” He wriggled his eyebrows and hoped he was forgiven for whatever he had done to make her frown. “It’s a very sexy name.”
“Thank you.”
He pushed open the door and escorted her into the community center. Kay and Quinn came over to greet them. Camryn leaned over and said something to Kay.
“You’re kidding.” Kay laughed at whatever it was Camryn had told her, then Kay looked at Mack with a disapproving gleam in her eyes.
What? Now it was Mack’s turn to frown. What on earth had he done, dammit? He hated being talked about behind his back. It brought back bad childhood memories from the time his mother had run off with another man. And from the time his first serious girlfriend had dumped him for a software program designer who pulled down a high six-figure salary.
“Am I missing out on a joke?” he asked Kay.
“You could say that,” Kay demurred. “Do you have any idea who she is?”
“No.” Mack snorted in exasperation.
“She’s the winner of the Metropolitan magazine contest.”
