Page 10 of Need You Now


  It was only six-fifteen when he arrived, but that was okay. If Mina wasn't finished, Cam was happy to hang out and talk with his friends.

  He headed straight for the bar where Eric was busy working, then he glanced around until he caught Tiffany's eye. She gave him a thumbs-up, but whether that was her way of saying hello or a signal that things were going well with Eric, Cam didn't know.

  Not that it mattered. Tiffany was too busy to ask, and Cam was preoccupied with finding both Mina and Jenna. He found Mina first; she was walking the perimeter, her camera scanning the room. He could tell the second she noticed him, because she stopped moving, kept the camera on him, and grinned. He assumed she'd zoomed in on him, and he made a goofy face, causing her to lower the camera and stick her tongue out at him.

  He winked, then continued his search for Jenna, ultimately finding her in the office with Tyree going over a stack of paperwork.

  "Cam, my man," Ty said, shifting his attention from the paper to the doorway as Cam knocked on the frame. "A little eager, aren't you? You're not on shift until tomorrow."

  "I can't stay away from this place," Cam said, and Tyree's smile broadened.

  "I know that feeling. What's up?"

  "I was looking for Jenna, but you'll both want to hear this." He told them about his conversation with Kiki and about her agreement to perform before the Mr. March contest.

  "Are you shitting me?" Tyree said. "Because if you are, that's grounds for firing."

  "Funny," Cam said, as Tyree leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head.

  "Damn, but I always did like your sister."

  "No kidding," Jenna said. "I'm talking major girl-crush here. She's really okay with that? Because this is amazing."

  "Totally okay. She loves this bar, and she likes small venues with just her guitar way more than the monster stadiums her managers set up for the band's tours."

  "What's going on?" Mina asked, coming up behind him and putting her hand on the flat of his back.

  For a second, Cam stiffened, certain she'd realize the intimacy of the touch and step back, but she kept her hand there, although she did ease forward so that she was standing beside him.

  "Kiki's going to perform next Wednesday," Jenna said.

  "No kidding?" She looked at Cam. "You arranged that?"

  "I might have had something to do with it."

  For the flicker of an instant, their eyes met, and he saw the tiniest smile play at her lips. Then she turned to Jenna. "I came to tell you that Brooke had a question. And to let you know I'm heading out. I've got a hot date tonight."

  She didn't look at him. Just turned and left, her hand falling away from his back and leaving a Mina-shaped handprint of heat and promise.

  Jenna looked after her, then turned her attention to him. For a second, he thought she was going to say something about him and Mina. But then her gaze dropped to the desktop, she grabbed a leather folio, and hurried past him into the hall saying, "I'll go see what Brooke needs."

  Cam told Tyree that he was heading out, too, and if Tyree made the connection between him and Mina, he didn't show it. All he said was, "You earned yourself some serious karma, Cam my man. Thanks."

  Cam nodded in acknowledgement, then walked back toward the main bar, intent on finding Mina.

  He didn't get that far. Instead, Mina grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him into the dark corner near the shelves where the paper products were stored. "That was nice what you did," she said. "Asking your sister to perform, I mean."

  "You think?"

  She hooked her hands around his neck and lifted herself up on her toes. Her lips brushed his ear as she whispered. "Very take charge. Very sexy."

  He stifled a moan, the unexpected sensation of her breath tickling his ear wreaking wonderful havoc with his insides. "Mina," he murmured, surprised and aroused. Anyone could come back here. Anyone could see. And the moment they did, the secret was over.

  Which was fine by him, but the fact that Mina was being so reckless was such a turn-on that he was as hard as steel...and seriously considering abandoning all of his careful plans in order to yank her out into the alley and fuck her senseless right then.

  Her hand slid down to cup his cock, and she made a soft noise of satisfaction that only made him harder. "I have high hopes for our date," she teased.

  "I'll try hard to live up to your expectations," he retorted, stressing the word hard and making her laugh as her hand pressed against him even more firmly.

  He groaned, then roughly took her wrists and pushed her back against the wall, her hands forced above her head as he pressed his body against hers. "You're playing a dangerous game, baby. Because I swear I'm on the verge of taking you right here, propriety and job security and our secret be damned."

  "The ladies room is just across the hall. It has a lock."

  Christ.

  She squirmed but he held her hands firm, sorely tempted.

  So ridiculously, incredibly, painfully tempted.

  "No," he finally said, then almost changed his mind when he saw the disappointment in her eyes. He leaned forward, releasing one wrist so that he could slide his hand down. He caressed her breast, then cupped her sex over the spandex of her leggings as she ground down on his hand. "Anticipation," he murmured, then eased back, breaking the contact between them.

  "Bastard," she said.

  "For now," he agreed. "But I bet you won't think so soon." He trailed his fingertip down her neck, over her collarbone, then lower and lower, veering off before he reached her sex. "I think you'll be begging me for more."

  She nodded, her green eyes flashing with both sensual heat and challenge. "All right then," she said. "Prove it. Let's see if you can make me melt."

  Chapter Eleven

  "A limo?" Mina stopped on the street to look at the sleek, black vehicle. They'd left The Fix through the back door and then walked down the alley to Brazos Street. She hadn't thought anything of the limo at first, but then the driver had stepped out and held the door open, and Cam had steered her that direction.

  Now, as she slipped into the dark interior, she looked over her shoulder at Cam and smiled, a little bit awed. "Unexpected, but nice."

  He settled in beside her as the driver indicated the two freshly poured Mimosas. Cam handed Mina hers before pushing the button on the privacy screen and picking up his own glass. "To surprises," he said, and a laugh bubbled out of her. The truth was, Cam was the biggest surprise of all. The way she felt so easy with him. So connected.

  "Definitely." She clinked his glass then took a sip before looking out the window. "Where are we going?"

  "Are you fuzzy on the definition of surprise?"

  She finished her mimosa and held her glass out with her brows raised, challenging him to deny her another. "Silly me. I thought the limo was the surprise."

  "It's a multipart surprise," he told her as he made her a fresh drink. "Part of the surprise is traveling in style."

  "You got that right. This is a sweet ride. My dad hardly ever hires limos, and when he does, it's for work. The only ones I've ever been in were during school. And those reeked of beer. And usually had a half-naked frat guy with his head through the sunroof screaming drunken insults at pedestrians."

  This, she thought was much better. A nice ride and an even nicer guy. And the two of them all alone with all sorts of possibilities.

  "Damn," he said. "I forgot to arrange for the drunken frat guy." He pointed to the sunroof. "Shall I start to strip down?"

  "Later," she said. "I think you can count on it." She looked him slowly up and down, and then licked her lips for effect. "But I think I'll keep you in the limo and all to myself."

  She asked where they were going, but he told her that was part of the surprise.

  "I grew up here, too, you know," she said. "Surprise destinations aren't going to be that easy unless you're taking me to the airport."

  "Damn. I forgot to reserve the jet to Paris."

  She had a sudden v
ision of the two of them in Paris, eating croissants from a street cafe, holding hands as the rode up the Eiffel Tower, exploring the Louvre and all the winding streets in the city.

  With his sense of fun and his love of history, it would be an amazing trip, and it scared her a little how much she wanted to start seriously planning just such a journey.

  He pulled her close then and kissed her, distracting her from her Parisian fantasies and ensuring that she lost all interest in trying to figure out where they were going. Instead, they wiled away the time enjoying a time-honored limo tradition--making out in privacy in the very back seat.

  Once the car stopped, she was distracted by the need to straighten her clothes, and so she didn't realize where they were until the driver opened the door and she recognized the well-known Austin restaurant.

  "The Oasis!" she said, thrilled with his choice. "And just in time for sunset. This couldn't be more perfect."

  "I'm friends with one of the bartenders, and he promised he'd make sure the hostess seats us at a perfect table."

  She knew what he meant by perfect, of course. The Oasis was built in multiple levels on a hill overlooking Lake Travis. It faced the west, and the sunsets over the water were both stunning and well-known. Getting a primo table, especially in the summer, was quite a feat.

  "You're amazing. A limo and perfect seats. What will you think of next?"

  "Actually, margaritas and nachos if that sounds good to you."

  "Are you kidding? It's perfect." She squeezed his hand across the table. "This is perfect."

  They still had thirty minutes until sunset, and they talked about everything and nothing--including her fantasy Paris trip--as the sun slipped lower and lower in the sky, finally disappearing in a cacophony of color.

  "That was amazing," she said. "This date has been amazing."

  "I'm glad you approve," he said, flashing a crooked grin. "But it's not over yet."

  In fact, she thought an hour later, the Oasis had barely been an appetizer. After they returned to downtown, he took her to one of the high-rise condo buildings, and they rode up, up, up until finally entering a small studio with a view of the river. "It'll be gorgeous tomorrow," he said, "but even at night it's pretty with the lights."

  She nodded agreement as she explored the place, noticing the soft classical music and the wine glasses already out on the bar by the kitchen area.

  The bedroom was an area set off by bookcases, and she saw the bedspread was pulled back and rose petals decorated the sheets.

  "I'll bite," she said. "What's going on. Is this your place?"

  "Ours," he said. "Just for the weekend."

  "Don't you work this weekend? And how is it ours?"

  "It's my sister's. Well, hers and Noah's. This was his place before they got married, and he kept it. They have a house in LA, too. And so long as we clear out before they get here on Wednesday, we have the run of the place."

  "But--"

  "And you're right. I have to work. But I thought it would be nice to share a place--to just share everyday life--for a couple of days. But if you think it's a stupid idea or if it makes you uncomfortable--"

  "I like it," she interrupted, rushing to reassure him. And she really did. "Yes," she said, holding out her hands to him. "I want to play house with you, Cameron Reed."

  The relief on his face was so obvious that she was overcome with the urge to kiss him. And since there was no reason not to, that's exactly what she did. Then she put her arms around him and held him close, feeling happy and spoiled and loved.

  "I have a bottle of wine chilling," he said. "Do you want some?"

  She nodded, then took a seat in front of the window while he brought over the glasses and the white wine. They watched the lights of the neighborhoods beyond the river, and talked about their plans for the weekend. He told her how to get into the condo and asked what she'd do while he was at work.

  She almost said she was going to pick up stray men and bring them to the condo, but even though it was so obviously a joke, she couldn't conjure the words. She didn't want even a joking thought about another man coming between them.

  He was, she realized, all she wanted. And the thought was less scary than it should have been. After all, she'd never expected to feel so serious about a guy. Not yet anyway. Not until she was older and more established in her career.

  But what they had felt right. Good. She just wasn't sure if she could trust the way it felt. Or even if she should let him into her heart since she'd be off to Los Angeles as soon as she had enough experience under her belt.

  Then again, it was too late for that. He was in her heart. Her heart and her head and her thoughts. And no matter what came next, she didn't want that to change. She didn't know if she was in love with him, and she wasn't quite ready to think about that. But she did know that she wanted him. That being with him felt right.

  And that, she supposed, was plenty to be going on with.

  "Hey, you got quiet," he said. "Penny for your thoughts?"

  "They're worth at least a quarter," she countered.

  "Deal."

  "I was thinking about you," she admitted, then stood up and held out her hand to him. "And I was thinking about the bed and the rose petals. And," she added, as she tugged him that direction, "I was thinking that I really want you to make love to me now."

  And of course, since Cam was a gentleman, he did exactly what she asked.

  * * *

  By late Sunday--technically Monday--Cam knew that he owed his sister big time. He'd never felt more at ease than he had sharing the studio with Mina. They walked on the trail by the river in the mornings, then came back to the condo for breakfast and made love in the shower. She spent a few hours each day at The Fix helping Brooke and Spencer, but they still had plenty of time for a quick dinner before he went in for his shift.

  And since they were both used to crazy bar hours, they made love again in the wee hours after he came home from work. Then they lazed together in bed and caught each other up on their days, him telling her all about his new managerial position--which was harder work than bartending, but worth it--and her telling him about articles she'd read, places she'd visited, and all the little things she was doing as she enjoyed her free time between school and her new job that was starting soon.

  That intimacy was what he was most looking forward to now as he rode the elevator up after his shift. And he called out her name as he stepped inside.

  Usually, she greeted him with a sparkling water, but today she only waved from where she sat at the kitchen table with her phone to her ear and a cup of coffee in front of her.

  "Thanks," she was saying. "I really am excited. It couldn't be a better opportunity." She nodded. "Yeah, really soon. I don't know--oh, that's terrific. I can't believe you forgot to tell me that right off the bat. An actual producing credit?"

  She stood as she listened, then came over to kiss him, signaling that she'd only be another minute. "Well, tell him I said congratulations and that we'll talk soon. I know, right? Definitely happy hour worthy. Okay, love you, too. Bye!"

  She ended the call, then moved into the kitchen to fill her mug.

  "One of your LA friends?" he asked.

  "Lydia," she said, her back to him. "She moved to LA after undergrad and is doing really well. And she told me that another friend of ours just got his first producing credit."

  "And you told them about your job, I hope."

  "Yeah," she said, her voice a little hollow. "That's actually why I called her. I know it's late there, but with the time difference, I knew she'd still be up."

  He frowned, not certain why, but feeling like there was something off in her voice. "She must know the studio," he said. "I mean, with projects from both Griffin and Beverly Martin on their dance card, you're going to work for a real competitor."

  "I know." She finally turn around, then rubbed her face, looking tired. "It's just been a long, weird day, and I miss her. There was a group of us that did drin
ks every Friday night. Call it late night melancholy. Actually," she said, "don't call it anything at all. Because I'm going to shake off this mood."

  A ball of worry had settled in his gut, but he was determined to shake that off, too. So he didn't ask her for more details. All he said was, "you're in luck. I know just how to do that. Get dressed," he added, his eyes skimming over the tiny tank top and sleep shorts that he loved seeing her in. "I want to show you something."

  "What? Outside?"

  Since she was already tugging her jeans back on, he didn't bother answering. He just waited for her to finish, then led the way to the door.

  "It's almost three in the morning," she pointed out as they descended in the elevator. "Where are we going?"

  "Not far," he promised. He'd called the car service again, and the limo was right on time, the driver standing by the door ready to hold it open for Mina.

  "Good evening," he said as they both slipped inside, and Cam was pleased to see the driver hadn't forgotten a thing.

  As the driver shut the door, Cam took one of the freshly poured Mimosas and handed it to Mina. "To long nights and wonderful company," he said.

  She still looked baffled, but she smiled broadly, then clinked her glass against his. "I'll drink to that." She took a sip, then nodded at the two small canvas bags on the floor. They were both zipped shut with no logo. "Are those for us?"

  "Yup."

  "Can I open one?"

  "Nope."

  "Cam!"

  He laughed, amused by her confusion. Soon enough she'd have her answer, and in fact, they'd barely been in the car for five minutes when the driver pulled over at the designated spot on Baylor Street at the edge of downtown, just below the old castle. "Come on," Cam said, grabbing his bag and urging Mina to pick up hers.

  "Graffiti Park!" She looked around, delighted. "Do you know I've never been here?"

  "Me neither," Cam admitted, but he knew about it. Most Austinites did. Officially called the Hope Outdoor Gallery, Graffiti Park consisted of the concrete remnants of old buildings at the bottom of a hill. An urban contrast to the medieval-style castle that graced the hilltop, one of the earliest buildings in Austin, and which Cam had been in once as a kid when the then-owners had turned it into a haunted house for Halloween.