Chapter Seventeen

“Problem?” Nash asked with a smirk on Sunday night. They were at Quail & Ale again, this time with Reese in tow.

And yes, there was a problem. James was flirting with Reese. She’d needed a glass of water and rather than wait for their server to stop by their table on the rooftop patio, she’d sauntered over to the bar to ask for one herself. James and Easton were tending tonight and she’d walked straight to James, who had her laughing and—did she just flip her hair over her shoulder? Come on.

He and Reese had been circling each other the past three days, ever since their kiss, and Cam hated it. He missed his best friend and it was his own damn fault.

Nash laughed. “Dude, James flirts with everyone, so chill out. Although, he does have game so he can definitely give you a run for your money.”

“What are you talking about?”

Now Gael laughed. “You couldn’t be more obvious if you had her name tattooed on your forehead.

“Not true,” he argued.

“That you’re obvious or that you have a thing for Reese?”

“The latter. If I’m focused on Reese it’s because I’m looking out for her.” Music played through speakers hidden in the large potted trees around the rooftop, and he’d noticed more than one set of eyes follow her when she left the table and wove around them on her way to the bar.

“More like looking at her.” Nash took a sip of his light beer. “Not that we all aren’t. She’s stunning.”

Cam pulled his gaze from Reese to give each of his brothers a warning look. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Ha! Looks like you’re buying the next round,” Nash, clearly gloating, said to Gael.

Gael gave a “huh” in surprise. “Damn. I thought for sure you wouldn’t go there with her.”

“I’m not going there.” He’d keep telling himself that until it stuck.

“I’m not entirely surprised,” Gael said. “You guys have always had a strong connection.”

“However,” Nash chimed in. “Betting and teasing aside, it’s probably not a good idea.”

“I don’t know,” Gael said. “Maybe it’s worth exploring. You’re both adults.”

“It’s not that simple,” Cam said, studying his beer. A discussion on Reese required a quiet room for intelligent thinking. Maybe a flow chart with what-ifs and their results, and definitely a list of pros and cons.

Like she had a magnet in her back pocket, he lifted his head and his attention landed back on her at the bar. How long did it take to get a glass of water?

Nash shrugged. “Gael’s got a point. Maybe you just need to get each other out of your systems. It’s a simple three-step process. Get her naked. Give her an orgasm. Then chase your own. Done.”

“Jesus, bro. I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. Reese is not like other women. This isn’t a normal circumstance, not by a long shot.”

“What’s a long shot?” Reese asked, returning to the table. Finally. She wiggled onto the barstool next to him, once again teasing his nose with her incredible scent.

“Cam getting the digits for the blonde sitting at the bar,” Nash said, smoothly changing the subject they’d been discussing.

Reese narrowed her eyes. “Since when do you like blondes?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Nash said. “Cam usually goes for women with auburn hair. Like yours, Nitro.”

She gave Nash a What are you doing? look before turning her attention back to him. Under the twinkling lights strung across the roof, her lip gloss shone, and a warm glow haloed her. Her yellow, off-the-shoulders top showed off enough creamy skin to have him swallowing every few minutes, and the tendrils of hair escaping her bun were sexier than they should’ve been.

“Cam?” she prompted, after he’d not heard a word she said.

He blinked. “Sorry, what?”

Gael snickered. “She asked if you guys need to go somewhere to talk.”

“No,” he told her, wanting to keep the night light and fun. “All good.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by a passerby. “Gael! Good luck with the Apple King race. I hear you’re in the lead!”

The woman’s comments carried the weight needed to change the subject for good and his brother groaned.

“You’ve been nominated?” Reese asked with excitement.

“Don’t remind me.”

The annual Founder’s Day tradition started in the ’50s as a joke. Apple orchards were—still were—big business, and one of the owners posed for a picture while balancing apples on his arms and head. The San Francisco Chronicle picked it up and it made national news. After that, an Apple King was chosen every year.

“Unfortunately,” Gael said.

“The winner this year gets auctioned off for a date at the Founder’s Day Silent Auction,” Nash said. “And Gael is worried about certain single ladies in town bidding on him. Which reminds me, I haven’t cast my vote yet.”

“Please don’t.” Gael looked miserable. Rumor had it he was ahead by a lot.

“We could visit the library tomorrow and pull votes out of your box,” Cam suggested.

“Mrs. Lansbury watches the front desk like a hawk. No way will that work.” Gael sounded as miserable as he looked.

“Or we could break into the library tonight,” Nash offered.

Gael perked up. “That’s a brilliant idea. Let’s do it.” He slid off his stool, ready to bounce.

“Wait,” Reese said. “You’re not serious.”

Cam agreed it wasn’t a smart plan, but they had done a little B&E for various reasons as teenagers. Nothing serious, just getting into small-town mischief. They never stole anything or destroyed property. And they wouldn’t disturb anything in the library but the voting boxes.

Nash came around the table and put his arm around Reese. “We are and we need your help.”

“Me?”

Cam lifted his brother’s arm off of Reese and wedged himself between them. “We’ll drop you off at home.”

“I don’t mind helping.”

Cam threw a twenty on the table as a tip and then led the way down the stairs of the bar. “I mind.” He was aware he sounded like a possessive know-it-all but he couldn’t help himself.

“Reese can take of herself.” This from Gael, who was undoubtedly only thinking about himself at the moment.

“What he said.” She practically skipped out of the restaurant ahead of them. Great. She’d decided to show off her defiant side.

Once they were all on the sidewalk, she put her hands on her hips. “What do you need me to do? Drive the getaway car? Look out for the security guard? I do a great birdcall. It can be our signal that someone is coming.”

“Nitro, you are my favorite human at the moment,” Nash said, grinning at her. “But here’s what we need.” He started walking in the direction of the library with Reese at his side. “Mrs. Lansbury always leaves the bathroom window open. I’ll give you a boost and you’ll climb through the window to let us in the front door.”

“Don’t you need a key to unlock the door?” Cam had spent many hours writing at the library and he hadn’t forgotten the sound of Mrs. Lansbury’s keys jingling. At the memory, he worried about breaking into the historical building that Mrs. L had run for over fifty years. The four of them were harmless, but that didn’t make what they were about to do any less illegal.

“Yes, we need a key,” Nash answered. “Reese, after you leave the bathroom, you’ll make a left to go to the front desk. There’s an extra key behind the check-out counter in the second drawer, under a small felt owl.”

“How do you know that?” Gael asked.

“Remember when I dated Monique Cates in high school? She volunteered at the library on weekends and snuck me in a few times after hours so we could make out.”

“That was over twelve years ago,” Cam complained. “The key might not be in the same place anymore.”

“It’ll be there.” Gael pulled his recently purchased T-shirt away from his stomach. “I’m wearing our lucky shirt.”

Nash glanced at them over his shoulder. “That’s what I like to hear.”

They found the bathroom window open like Nash said. Given crime in Rustic Creek was nearly nonexistent, Cam wasn’t surprised.

“I guess no one wants to break into libraries.” Reese met his gaze like she’d read his mind.

“You sure you want to do this?” Cam asked her.

“Are you kidding? This is the best worst thing I’ve ever done. And it’s not like we’re stealing anything, or vandalizing the place. We’re just helping Gael lose the Apple King contest.”

Gael put up his fist for a bump. Reese obliged.

With no one else around—ten o’clock was past most people’s bed times—Nash laced his fingers together and widened his arms, elbows out, so Reese could place her foot on his hands for a boost up. “Ready?”

Reese looked left, then right, then left again. She wasn’t as unworried about this as she wanted them to believe. “I’m ready.”

Nash hoisted her up while Cam positioned himself on her free side to give her bottom a push if need be. The only person touching her there would be him. As luck, or bad luck, would have it his assistance wasn’t needed. She easily reached the window and slipped inside with one smooth motion.

“I’m in!” she shouted. Then, “Oh, crap.”

“I hope she didn’t mean that literally,” Nash said.

…

The flash of light blinding Reese could only mean one thing: her picture had just been taken. What happened to a Smile, You’re on Camera warning sign? And wasn’t it illegal to have cameras in a restroom? She blinked away the dancing light particles and looked around the dark…storage room?

“It’s not a bathroom anymore,” she called out.

Nerves had her debating whether or not to climb right back out the window. She’d been caught on film by a motion sensor camera and she could only imagine the look on her guilty face. Was breaking and entering a misdemeanor? A felony? Should she walk straight to the police station and turn herself in?

“No worries,” Nash called back. “You should still exit the room and make a left.”

“Are you okay?” The immediate concern in Cam’s voice made her feel better. He’d post bail for her if she needed him to.

“Yes, but—”

“Hurry to the desk and grab the key then,” Gael instructed. “We’re going to run around to the front door.”

The time to debate over, she couldn’t—make that wouldn’t—let Gael down.

Deep breath in…

Deep breath out…

With dim light streaming in through the open window, she found her way out of the storage room without bumping into anything. She made a left and jogged toward the front desk. Several antique lamps illuminated her way, and tall book shelves gave her a sense of invisibility.

She ducked behind the check-out counter and opened the second drawer. No owl. Panicked, she tried the third drawer. There it was! Key in hand, she rushed to the glass front door to let in her accomplices. Seeing the tall, handsome trio didn’t make her any less nervous and she dropped the key.

Cam gave her a thumbs-up through the glass, his eyes on her with encouragement in their dark depths. Her pulse dialed down a notch and she opened the door.

Gael kissed her cheek. “Nice job, Nitro.”

“There is no kissing Reese,” Cam grumbled, pushing his brother away.

That was interesting.

She followed them back to the desk where they found three voting boxes, with names written on them, atop the main counter.

“Are you sure you’re okay? What happened when you crawled through the window?” Cam asked, standing close enough that she could smell his manly scent.

“There was a surveillance camera and it took my picture.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “Did you hear that, Nash?” His accusatory tone was sweet, but she wasn’t mad at Nash. He’d assumed she would land in the bathroom.

“Sorry,” Nash said. He moved to put his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her. “If anything comes of it, we’ll all fess up. We know everyone at the sheriff’s station and we’re not doing anything to the library. If anyone comes to investigate, they’ll find everything in its place.”

“No one will even know who I am, right? I don’t live here and I don’t have a criminal record. So, no tracking me down.”

“Can we cast our votes now and talk about this later?” Gael asked. “Here.” He spread out the stack of small white cardstock beside the boxes. “Try to change up your writing so it doesn’t look suspicious.”

Nash pulled the lid off Gael’s box and pocketed a bunch of votes, then put the lid back on. Reese split her votes between the two other nominees. Cam, she noticed, favored one over the other.

“This is the craziest thing I’ve ever done,” she said.

“Not me.” Nash looked up at her. “There was this one time I—”

“Did you hear that?” Reese stopped writing. She stopped breathing. She’d heard something.

The guys all stopped, too, and listened.

“I don’t hear anything,” Cam whispered.

Her heart pounded. She inched closer to Cam so that their sides touched. Maybe it was her imagination. After all, she was writing a screenplay about a murder in a bakery.

“It was probably a passing car,” Gael said. “Let’s get a few more votes done and get out of here.”

Five minutes later, they had the three boxes perfectly lined up, the pens back in their place, and the cardstock neatly stacked.

“You’ll lock the door behind us, put the key right back where you found it, and climb back out the window,” Nash instructed.

“I’ll be on the other side to catch you,” Cam said.

Reese walked with them to the glass door, glad their adventure was almost over. She ushered them out, locked the door, gave a little wave, and hustled to retrace her original steps. The quietness of the library, usually a comfort, was anything but as she returned the key. Taking one last look to be sure nothing looked out of place, she congratulated herself on her Lara Croft–level skills before sprinting for the storage room.

She hauled herself up through the open window, catching a flash of light in her periphery. Great. Now they—whoever they were—had a shot of her backside. Her beige capri pants did make her butt look good. And her leaving the same way she came in would certainly score her some forgiveness points. She gave a little wave. Bye. Thank you for not arresting me.

Arms out in front of her, she reached for Cam. He stood right where he said he’d be, ready to pull her to freedom. She kicked her feet for a little oomph and he caught her against his chest. She had just enough time to bury her nose in his shirt and breathe him in before he put her feet on the ground.

“Time to go.” He put his hand on her lower back to steer her away and then they ran behind Nash and Gael, all the way to Gael’s car in the parking lot of the Quail & Ale.

Slightly out of breath, they shared looks of triumph. She felt alive and happy and a sense of team spirit. “What should we do tomorrow night?” she asked.

Three smiles made themselves at home in her heart. Two brotherly. One most definitely not.

Cam’s eyes fixed on her lips like he wanted to kiss them in victory, before his gaze jumped up to meet hers. “Whatever you want,” he said.

“Agree,” Nash said.

“You’re my hero,” Gael said.

She gave Gael a quick hug, the compliment nice to hear. “As long as I don’t get arrested, it was my pleasure.”

“That won’t happen.” Cam opened the back passenger door of the car for her then slid in beside her. She purposely stuck to the middle seat and put her seat belt on. He didn’t seem to mind their closeness. After tiptoeing around each other the past few days, and the adrenaline rush from tonight, she needed this.

“We are pretty tight with the mayor,” Nash said from behind the steering wheel, “so if we need to explain ourselves, I’m sure he’ll help.”

“It’s like you said,” Gael offered from the front passenger seat. “You’re not a local, so I don’t think you have to worry.”

She took a very loud deep breath.

“We’ve got your back,” Cam said.

“I know you do.”

When they got home, Nash and Gael said good night and Cam walked her to the guesthouse. “I can’t believe we did that,” she said.

“Did what?” He pulled a playful plead-the-fifth face.

She stepped up to her door. “Oh, that’s right. What happens in the Rustic Creek Library, stays in the Rustic Creek Library.”

“Sure does.” He took a step back. “Work together tomorrow?”

Grateful for the question, she immediately said, “Yes.”

“Great. I’ll be over around nine. Good night.”

“’Night.” Before she put her foot in her mouth and said something foolish like, “Do you want to come in?” she hurried inside. Leaned against the shut door. Tomorrow they’d get back to their regular routine. She’d make sure he was on track with his script, do some writing of her own, and do more reading for Shay. Sounded like a perfect Monday.

She put her purse on the console table then, deciding she wasn’t ready for bed yet, grabbed a pillow and two blankets. Tonight’s balmy breeze and full moon called to her.

She wandered to the large grassy area near the pool. After fanning out one of the blankets and putting the pillow on it, she took a seat. She slid off her sneakers and kicked them away. Not needing the other blanket yet, she placed it next to her before lying back, her head on the pillow, face to the sky.

She stared at the stars scattered in twinkling disarray. Frogs ribbitted in the distance. Crickets chirped. Two sounds she’d never tire of hearing.

“Hey.”

Her hand flew to her chest at the intrusion, even though she knew the voice. Dreamed about it, even. “Jeez, you scared the crap out of me.”

“Sorry.” Cam stepped into her line of vision. Nice. She definitely preferred looking up at him over the starry sky. She thought about asking him to take a small step to the left to put him in perfect view, but before she got the chance he added, “What are you doing out here?”

“What are you doing out here?”

“I saw you leave the guesthouse and wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“You mean follow me,” she said playfully.

He ignored her statement and sat down on the blanket. “Are you camping out?”

“I’m thinking I might. The natural thing to do after a B&E is camp out, right?”

“Sounds reasonable. Do you want me to leave?” He laid back, getting comfortable, like he already knew her answer.

Of course he did. She’d missed hanging out with him. “You can stay.” She lifted her head to push the king-size pillow over so he could share it with her.

“Thanks.”

They stayed like that, listening to the sounds of nature for a couple of minutes. “We’re good, right?” she asked.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

She turned her head to look at him. She once got her lip caught on the sexy stubble dusting his chiseled jawline. It was years ago. Before. Before the kiss to end all kisses. Would she keep thinking in terms of Before The Kiss and After The Kiss now? She closed her eyes to try and squash the memory of his lips on hers and her body feeling like—

“You falling asleep already?”

Her eyes flew open. “No.” He’d turned his head, so their noses were mere inches apart. Laying with him like this, she could think of lots of things besides sleep she’d like to do. Things like more kissing, more touching, more exploring this undeniable pull to be closer.

She lost herself in his bottomless honey-colored eyes, their gift for unspoken understanding filling her heart and head with the kind of rapport she’d always wished for from a partner. He was thinking about things, too.

“Reese.” Her name, so soft and gentle on his lips, reminded her how easily he could read her. “It was a—”

“Mistake. I know. But…”

“It didn’t feel like one,” he said with conviction.

His words, combined with the heat and sincerity in plain view, had her adrenaline going again. She wanted to kiss him a second time so badly, double check her memory on how good it had been.

“It felt the complete opposite of a mistake,” she agreed.

“I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.”

“Me either.”

“This is bad,” he said, with painful tenderness.

“Really bad. Bringing intimacy into a friendship can end the friendship if things don’t work out and it would kill me to lose you.” And your family.

“We’re already intimate, Ree. You know my deepest thoughts. My innermost dreams and fears, and things no one else knows, and it would kill me, too, to lose what we have.”

Could he be any more wonderful? “So, we agree to put the kiss in our memory banks and move on.” She gave him two distinct blinks, their code for go along with it whenever they needed backup.

He smiled and gave her one distinct blink back—you got it. “Agree, that’s the wisest thing to do.” Wise didn’t mean preferable.

With Cam, she was never alone. Ever. One look or nod or smile from him and she could conquer the world.

When the overwhelming urge to kiss him again swamped her, she quickly turned her face back to the safety of the sky. “What are your thoughts on chocolate covered bacon?” she asked, steering them into safer territory. “My mom made some for my dad today and I’m not sure I’m on board.”

“It’s bacon.”

“Meaning?” The temperature had dropped a few degrees, so she lifted the extra blanket and covered herself. “Want some?”

“I’m okay. Meaning everything tastes good with bacon.”

“I feel that way about peanut butter.”

He put one hand behind his head. “I haven’t seen you eat any peanut butter and pickles lately.”

“That’s because you find it gross, so I don’t torture you with it.”

“Thanks, pal.”

She stifled a yawn. “Best pal to you.”

“You are.” A quiet minute passed. Her eyelids grew heavy and slowly closed.

When she woke sometime later, she was snuggled against a warm body. Of course she was. She moved around in her sleep and liked to cuddle. Tucked underneath Cam’s arm, she didn’t want to move. For the next hundred years.

“Hey,” he said, his voice deep and husky. Sexy. So sexy. Reese Evelyn Resnick, do not go there!

“Hi. Sorry about uh…” She reluctantly rolled off him.

“Using me as pillow?”

“Yes, that.” She sat up. The frogs and crickets had stopped ribbitting and chirping, and the night sky seemed darker than dark. She guessed it was a little after midnight as she lifted the blanket off them. “I think I’ll finish out the night in bed.”

He got to his feet to help her up. His hand swallowed hers and sent the usual charge up and down her limbs. She reminded herself she had no business feeling such things.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Wait. Was he suggesting…

“I didn’t want to leave you alone, but my back thanks you,” he added as they walked toward the guesthouse.

Get your mind out of the gutter, Reese. She was already terrible at moving on like they’d agreed to do. “Feeling the effects of old age already?” she teased.

“I’m not that much older than you, and I didn’t have a human pillow to lay on top of.”

“I was not laying on top of you.” She’d like to, though.

“Close enough, Nuzzle.”

“I was not nuzzling you.”

“Oh, you definitely were. And I’m pretty sure you rubbed your nose against my neck more than once.”

Kill her now. Plus, who raised the temperature outside? She hid her face behind the blanket and pillow. “Whatever. You can go now.”

He jumped up the step to the guesthouse and opened the front door for her. “Your bed awaits.”

She marched past him. “Good night.”

“Sweet dreams, Nuzzle.”

“You, too.” You, too? “The sweet dreams part.” Ugh. She shut the door in his too-handsome face. Not because she hated the new nickname, but because she loved it.