She did something she never did then. She lied.
“Sure. Why wouldn’t we be?”
Chapter 18
8:51 PM...
Life is all about bridges. Deciding which ones we cross and which ones we burn.
Doc’s father had loved that quote. Had repeated it many times. And Doc wasn’t sure why it came back to him now as he stood outside the closed door of Mason and Alex’s bedroom.
Okay. That was bullshit. He knew.
It was because Cami was on the other side of that door. Cami and all the temptations she brought with her.
If he stepped inside, they’d become lovers. And if they became lovers, then what?
What comes next?
Nothing, right?
She was looking for a life partner, and he’d already lost his. She was looking for someone to father the rugrats she dreamed of having, and his chance at fatherhood had died with his wife. She was alawyer, born and raised in New York City and currently living in Miami—an urbanite through and through—and he was a farm boy whose only dream was to go home, raise some cattle, and maybe do a little local doctoring on the side as he watched the seasons sweep over the mountains.
So, yeah,nothingcame next.
That was something that’d never bothered him with other women. In fact, he’d taken comfort in knowing his liaisons always began and ended in the bedroom. But the finality of becoming Cami’s lover and nothing more dismayed him.
Instead of asking himself why that should be—mostly because he was afraid of the answer—he decided maybe his problem was he’d been right all along. Maybe the right thing to do was tonotgive in to her myriad temptations. To keep doing as he’d been doing for months: relegating himself to fantasies of her. To burnher bridge before allowing himself to cross it.
Although, this whole line of questioning might be for nothing,he silently admitted.She might be the one to light the match.
The entire time he’d been checking on the wounded men, he’d been replaying their bathroom conversation in his head.
Something about it didn’t sit right with him.
It wasn’t her words. She’d said all the right things. It wasn’t her face, either. She hadn’t seemed shocked or mad or upset when he’d admitted to feeling guilty for liking her.
But there’d been something…
He couldn’t put his finger on it and decided maybe it was just as she’d said. The events of the day had caught up with her.
Lord knew the events of the day had caught up withhim.
How many times had he mentally replayed the gunfight? Two dozen? Three? How many times had he admonished himself for not turning and aiming before firing at Fin? At least a hundred.
And yet, if he’d turned and aimed, Brady would’ve seen him. And instead of being confused, Brady would’ve immediately returned fire. Who knew if Doc would’ve been able to dodge that bullet?
If hehadn’t, if he’d been wounded or worse, he couldn’t have saved his friends and—
No matter how many times he went over it, he always came back to the same conclusion. He’d done what he’d had to do.
Even so, he couldn’t shake the anguish he felt at having sent another man to meet his maker.
“You tryin’ to open it with your mind?”
John’s voice pulled him from his swirling thoughts. “Huh?” The candle he carried flickered when he spun around.
Uncle John hitched his chin toward the closed bedroom door. “That there door. You been starin’ at it for the last three minutes. You might tryopen sesame.Worked for Ali Baba.” John’s broad, tan brow wrinkled. “Or maybe it was one of the forty thieves? I forget who actually said it.”
