Dedication
This book is for Kara. Because you’re my person.
Contents
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
An Excerpt from Blush for Me
About the Author
Praise
Also by Kristen Proby
Credits
Back Ad
Copyright
About the Publisher
Prologue
~Landon~
“Are you packed?” my sister, Mia, asks through the phone. Her voice is husky with sleep, which makes sense since it’s the middle of the night back home in Portland, Oregon.
“I leave tomorrow, Mia. Of course I’m not packed.” She snickers. I just finished up my last debriefing meeting, my last day as an officer in the Navy. I grip the zipper of my flight uniform and sigh. “It’s not right.”
“I know,” she says quietly. “But you’re safe and whole, and you could be dead, Landon, so I’ll take it.”
I frown, staring at myself in the mirror as I unzip my uniform for the last time. I’ll never wear it again, never pilot a plane again.
What the fuck am I supposed to do now? The Navy gave me options, but if I can’t fly, there’s no sense in it. Flying isn’t just what I do, it’s who I am.
“You’re overthinking,” Mia says.
“I’m a pilot, Mia. This is what I love. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.”
“You’re alive,” she says.
“Am I?” I murmur, then shake my head and wince at the neck pain that still nags me from time to time. Ejecting from an F-16 will cause a crick in the neck. And a loss of an inch in height that may never return, along with an entire Naval career.
Son of a bitch.
“This has been the longest four months of our lives, Landon. We’re all anxious to see you.”
“I’ll be home in a few days,” I reply as I pull a T-shirt over my head and throw the last of my belongings in a box that the Navy will have sent to me from Italy.
I loved being in Italy for the past few years, and God knows I didn’t plan to leave it like this.
But I am. Maybe Mia’s right; at least I’m alive and I can walk and live a normal life.
I just can’t fly.
And that’s what hurts more than any injury from the crash.
“What time should I come get you from the airport?”
“No need,” I reply, regretting calling my sister and waking her up. I just didn’t know what else to do when I came in here and was faced with boxes and the end of a career I love. “I’ll get there.”
“Landon—”
“It’s okay, really. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Be safe,” she says. “And, Landon?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s going to be okay.”
I force a grin and a nod, though she can’t see either. “Of course it is.”
We say our good-byes and I sit on the edge of the bed, scrub my hands over my face, and take a deep breath. I hope she’s right.
Chapter 1
~Cami~
He’s back.
I take a deep, cleansing breath and push my hands through my blond hair, scrutinizing my makeup. I don’t wear much, and I’m certainly not as talented with it as my best friend, Addie, but it’ll do. My green eyes are accentuated nicely, lips are pink, and heart is beating faster than ever.
“You’ve known him your whole life. It’s not like he’s new,” I remind myself in the mirror. “You’re just going over to say hi. It’s no big deal.”
I don’t look convinced, so I narrow my eyes and lean in. “He’s just an old friend. Suck it up, buttercup.”
Landon is my other best friend, Mia’s older brother. Addie, Mia, and I grew up together, and I’ve been in love with Landon for as long as I can remember. God, one look at him usually sends the giant birds in my stomach into overdrive. He’s handsome—understatement of the year—and sweet and . . . damn.
I’m ridiculous.
I shake my head at my reflection and turn away to grab my purse and set out to Landon’s parents’ place, where he’s been staying since arriving home a few days ago. Landon was in the Navy since he graduated from college. He was a pilot, until an accident a few months ago that resulted in him ejecting from the plane.
I’ve never felt fear like I did the day we received the call that he’d been hurt. And the past few months of him being on the other side of the world have been torture. I couldn’t see him to make sure he was okay. He had to recover, then go through the process of being discharged from the Navy before he could come home.
Thank God he’s back now. I gave him a couple of days to acclimate, but I just can’t stay away anymore. I need to see him.
And I’m nervous as hell.
I park at the curb by his parents’ house, gather my courage about me, and walk up the sidewalk to the front door, knocking with more conviction than I feel.
There isn’t any movement in the house, making me frown. It’s early enough in the day that he should be home.
I knock again, and just when I’m about to give up and leave, the door is yanked open and there he is.
Half-naked.
Hair rumpled.
Eyes blurry.
Did I mention that he’s half freaking naked?
“What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice rough with sleep, snapping me out of my openmouthed stare.
“Were you still asleep?” I ask, squaring my shoulders and schooling my face to seem as though I see half-naked men every day.
Which I don’t. Certainly not tall, dark-haired men with ice-blue eyes and olive skin and washboard abs.
Jesus.
“It’s early,” he mumbles, and scrubs his hand over his face. He’s not asking me in. He doesn’t look happy to see me.
He hasn’t even hugged me, which probably isn’t a bad thing considering that he’s half-naked and I’d probably do something stupid like tackle him to the ground and molest him.
Down, girl.
“It’s not that early,” I point out, and he turns narrowed eyes on me and firms his jaw, and I realize that not only is he not thrilled that I’m here, he’s . . . irritated.
“I’m still shaking the jet lag,” he says. “What do you need, Cami?”
I take a small step back and shake my head. “I don’t need anything, Landon. I just wanted to stop by and say welcome home.”
“Thanks.” His voice is a little flat. I was not expecting this at all. Landon has always been welcoming, happy to see me. I don’t know what to do with this.
I do know one thing: I need to get out of here. I’m sorry I came.
“I’m sorry that I woke you up,” I murmur, my eyes on my feet as I turn away. “I’ll see you.”
“Cami,” he says, but I don’t stop to see what he’s about to say. My fight-or-flight reflex has kicked in, and all I can think is Get out of here.
“How embarrassing,” I mutter, fighting tears. “Why would he want to see you, Cami? You’re just his little sister’s friend.”
But it wasn’t always that way. Back in the day, we were friends. He and I always got along well, and I refuse to believe that it was just because of Mia. We had things
in common, and we had conversations. And when he left for the Navy, he left a hole in my life that I tried to fill with a mistake of a marriage.
I miss him. I’ve missed him for years. And now he’s home and he doesn’t want me?
I’ll just have to learn to live with that. Besides, it’s not like I can claim that I know him well. Ten years away is a long time. He only came home once a year, and after I got married, he stopped contacting me because he said it wasn’t appropriate to continue to communicate with a married woman.
Divorced or not, why would I think that he’d suddenly be thrilled to see me and swoop me up in a tight hug, then want to share breakfast and conversation?
I sigh as I park in my driveway, kill the engine, and finally face the fact that despite our past, I don’t really know Landon anymore. I know the young man who left here long ago, and that’s not who he is anymore.
I’m not that girl anymore either.
I’ve been carrying a torch all these years for someone who doesn’t exist.
“Stupid,” I whisper, and slam my car door shut and climb the steps to my porch, unlock my door, and to my utter shock, see a gray-and-white streak run between my legs and into my house, then stop at the entrance to my kitchen, turn, and sit on its butt, as if he belongs here.
“Oh, no, you’ve got to go,” I say sternly. “Come on.” I gesture to the door, but the cat just blinks, then licks his tail twice before returning his gaze to me.
I’ve never seen this cat before in my life.
“Where did you come from?” I ask, propping my fists on my hips and giving the cat my best glare.
It doesn’t seem to bother him.
“You need to go,” I say, and march toward him. “Scoot. Outside.”
He simply runs out of my reach into the living room, watching me. “Meow.”
“No, you can’t stay,” I reply, as if I’m carrying on a conversation with the feline. “Seriously, I don’t like cats.”
“Meow.”
“Because they’re moody and snobby. I’m really a dog person,” I say, trying to reason with him. He flicks his tail and turns away from me. “Seriously, I’m not even allowed to have pets here. My landlord doesn’t allow it.”
Great. Now I’m lying to the cat. I own this house.
“It’s not you, it’s me,” I try, but the cat lies down on his back, exposing his belly, and stretches out on my expensive area rug, making himself at home.
“Meow.”
“You. Have. To. Go.” I clap my hands and move fast, trying to scare him out and through the open front door, but he runs in the opposite direction. “Seriously? You’re really starting to piss me off.”
“Meow.”
He jumps up on the back of my couch and crouches, watching to see what my next move will be so he can dodge it, I’m sure.
“I said outside,” I say, my voice heavy with authority.
Finally, he jumps down and runs through my legs, toward the front door, and when I turn around, there’s Landon, with a shirt on now, leaning against the doorjamb with a smirk on his face and the cat weaving through his legs, purring.
“What are you trying to do to your cat?” he asks as he leans down and scoops the terrorist into his arms.
“He’s not my cat,” I reply, and blow out a gusty sigh. “He ran in here and now I can’t get him to leave.”
“Smart cat,” he says, and scratches the feline’s head. Landon’s blue eyes are on mine as he closes the door and sits himself, and the cat, on my couch.
“By all means, both of you make yourselves at home.” I roll my eyes and push my fingers through my hair. “What do you want, Landon?”
I frown. My voice has never been this hard when I spoke to Landon before. It doesn’t sit well with me.
“I’m sorry, Cam,” he says softly, watching the cat as it curls up in his lap and purrs happily.
“No need,” I say, and sit on the love seat to the left of him. “I shouldn’t have come over without calling first.”
I trace the pattern in the fabric of the love seat, not wanting to meet Landon’s gaze. I’m still embarrassed, and disconcerted about the cat.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Landon says.
“I’m fine,” I reply. “I was just going to say hi. No big deal. I have some stuff to do, so if you could just take the cat outside with you when you go, I’d appreciate it.”
I stand and move to leave the room, but Landon catches my wrist in his hand to stop me. Since I was young, Landon’s always caught my wrist when he wanted to take a bite of whatever I was eating, or just to catch my attention. He’s a touchy-feely guy. I frown down into his face and my heart catches. His blue eyes are . . . sad.
And my arm is on fire from his touch.
“I really am sorry,” he says. “I’m just not myself these days.”
I gently tug my arm out of his grasp and sit back down, watching him. “Okay.”
“I didn’t want to come home,” he says as he pets the cat, currently purring happily as if he lives here. “I guess things are just weird right now. But that doesn’t mean I can snap at you. You’re the sweetest person I know.”
“You don’t know me anymore,” I murmur, remembering what I thought about in the car. Landon’s brow furrows, but then he nods.
“Maybe not. But I do know that you’re sweet, and I care about you, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry for being an ass.”
“Thank you.”
He looks over at me now and really looks at me, his eyes tracking me from head to toe, then finding mine again. “You look great.”
“Thank you,” I repeat, not knowing what else to say. I can see that he’s hurting, and maybe confused, and everything in me wants to scoop him up and pet him, like he’s the cat, to soothe him and comfort him.
But I can’t. It’s not my place. So I sit where I am, waiting for him to make the next move.
After a long minute, he stands, sets the cat on the floor, and walks to the door. “Thanks for stopping by, Cami,” he says, nods, and walks out.
I sigh and stare at the cat. “You’re not going to leave, are you?”
He simply jumps back up on the couch where Landon was just sitting, curls into a ball, and immediately goes to sleep.
“YOU’RE LATE,” I inform Riley, who just walked through my door with a bottle of wine and a grocery-store sack full of ice cream.
“Sorry,” she says as she hurries into the kitchen to stow away the ice cream and pop open the wine. “I got held up on a call with the Web designer. But I brought sugar and wine, so I should be forgiven. Besides, the show hasn’t started yet.”
I slap slices of pizza on plates for both of us, and we each take a plate and a glass to the living room and settle in for our date night.
Every week, Riley, another best friend of mine, and business partner, comes over and we watch our favorite shows back-to-back while eating bad food and drinking too much wine.
It’s tradition.
“Meow,” the cat says as he slinks into the room, his nose sniffing out the food.
“What the hell!” Riley says in surprise. “When did you get a cat?”
“I didn’t,” I reply as the opening credits for The Vampire Diaries begins. “He got me.”
“Huh?”
I explain how he ran in the house and refuses to leave. “So I bought him some food and a bed and some toys.”
“You got a cat,” Riley says, grinning.
“He got me,” I say again.
“What’s his name?”
“Scoot. Because he won’t scoot.”
“I think it’s awesome,” Riley says with a smile, and scratches Scoot’s ears, making him purr. “He’s so pretty.”
“And stubborn. He doesn’t listen. I tell him he can’t sleep on my bed, and he does it anyway. The only thing he does right is use the litter box.”
“He’s a cat,” she says with a shrug. “That’s what cats do.”
We settle in to eat and
watch TV as Scoot jumps up on the back of the couch and curls into a ball to sleep and watch over us.
“I’m telling you,” Riley says as she sips her wine. “That Ian Somerhalder is going to eventually be my husband.”
“He’s already married,” I remind her, and watch as young vampires feed on innocent bystanders while also saving the town from evil.
It’s an amazing sort of irony.
“For him I could be a home wrecker,” she says thoughtfully. “I mean, look at him.”
“Sexy for sure,” I reply with a nod. “Except when he has blood dripping down his chin.”
“I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for having blood dripping down his chin,” she says with a smirk. “Unless he wanted to do me in the bathroom.”
“Ew,” I reply.
“You don’t like to do it in the bathroom?”
“No, the blood part. Ew.”
We giggle, then settle in to enjoy the rest of the show. When it’s over, I pause the DVR so we can clean up the pizza, refill our wine, and scoop ice cream. Because right after The Vampire Diaries is The Originals, an offshoot of The Vampire Diaries.
Just as I’m about to resume the TV, Riley says, “So, have you seen Landon?”
She’s not looking directly at me, and she says it as if she’s asking me if I’ve checked the weather forecast for tomorrow.
“I saw him the other day,” I reply. “Just for a minute.”
I really don’t want to get into it. The girls all know that I’ve crushed on Landon for years.
“Kat said he came into the restaurant the other day,” Riley says. Kat is the fifth friend of our group. The five of us co-own Seduction, a trendy restaurant in Portland. We’ve been open for almost a year, and business couldn’t be better.
“Did he?” I ask.
“She said he looks pretty good.”
No, he doesn’t. He’s sad and maybe scared, and it’s not my job to help him.
“Good for him.”
I press play and pretend to be engrossed in the show. When I’m finished with my ice cream, Scoot jumps down into my lap and curls up, but when I pet him, he hisses, so I leave him be.
“I know that Mia is glad that Landon’s home,” Riley says, and now I want to hiss at her.
“Why are we still talking about this?”