Camden shook his head, angry at himself for letting his emotions get in the way of his work. Granted, he was frustrated with the chatter—or lack thereof, nothing new came through about this American agent—but his not-a-date with Elena must have soured him more than he realized. But looking back, he saw what Jake meant. He’d been short with the FNGs and the dogs steered around him whenever he entered the courtyard—all except Toby, though even he’d given Camden the doggy side-eye a few times.Guess dogs can smell a total prick just as well as they can smell fear. Good thing he’d already met with Bennett and family beforehand or he was sure he would’ve come across as a complete asshole.
The only bright spot was receiving a text back from Elena last week about the party. He’d half-expected her to blow him off, but instead, she’d offered to make him her foodie Guinea pig. Hard to tell though if she was serious or just being nice. Still, he’d jumped at the chance to spend more time with her, texting back that he looked forward to any torture she wanted to dish out.Ha-ha, dish out, get it?he’d added lamely. But maybe the more she saw how much he could be there for her and Tina, just like her first husband, the more she’d let him in.
And the more he could attempt to put his past behind him.
“Anything I can help with, brother?” Jake’s question brought Camden out of his thoughts.
“Not unless you know how many vampiros it takes to conquer a ghost.”
Jake blinked at him. “Okay, one shrink coming right up, unless you care to elaborate on what the hell that even means.”
“It means my date—no, myattempteddate—with Elena snafued.”
“Dude, how? You guys are perfect for each other.”
The rich, salty smell of grilled kobe beef wafted across the porch, making Camden’s stomach grumble. Jake’s dad, Grant, was already at it, grilling more food than anyone needed, though Camden would give it his best shot. “I guess I’m not as perfect for her as her first husband was.”
“Ohhh. Damn, brother, cockblocked by a memory?”
“That about sums it up.”
Jake balanced his beer on the top of the patio wall and studied Camden like a piece of complicated sheet music.
“What?”
“You haven’t told her, have you?”
Shit. I do not want this conversation, Camden thought. “Told her what?”
Jake pointed at him. “Do not be a dick to me by insulting my intelligence. You know exactly what I’m talking about. She’s not the only one with ghosts that need conquering.” He folded his arms and added, “See? Not dumb. I figured it out.”
“I don’t want to talk about that. About them. Not with her.” Even the thought of bringing up Susan—let alone Chloe, God fucking forbid—sent his heart racing at deathmetal speed. The last thing he wanted was Elena to know how badly he’d fucked up with his own family. How he’d let them down. The two people most precious to him in the universe, and he failed them.
Oh, fuck no. He wasn’t talking about that with Elena.Ever.
Jake’s phone buzzed. “Well,” he said, checking the text, “you’d better think of something to talk about, because she just pulled up with Rachael.”
“Shit.” Camden slammed the last of his beer and a server appeared out of nowhere to take his empty bottle. He followed Jake back through the house to the front doors. Bette beat them there. Her motorized wheelchair glided almost silently across the foyer. She looked regal, like the Hollywood queen she was, with her platinum blond hair bobbed just under her jawline and a sporty but classy pink outfit. Camden wondered for a second if Rachael had texted her too, but then realized Bette’s security team had probably alerted her before the women even pulled onto the property, or possibly their driver sent a quick message. Which meant she was really looking forward to greeting Elena and Tina.
“Oh, sure, Mom,” Jake said. “Cam and I’ve been here an hour and we see neither hide nor hair of you, but you’re skirting like NASCAR to the door for Rachael and Elena.”
“AndTina,” Bette said. “How dare you forget the little lady who upstaged you at your wedding reception.”
“I’ll get the door, Mom.” Jake jogged past his mother.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” She fell in next to Camden, who bent and gave the woman he loved like his own mother a quick kiss on the cheek. “At least he’s picking upsomegood manners from you,” she said, patting his arm.
“Only by accident, Ms. C.,” Camden answered, winking. “I think Rachael gets the real credit.”
Bette smiled fondly at her daughter-in-law’s name. Jake had told him the two women had bonded hard over their past tragedies—and their shared path forward. Camden hoped Bette would do the same with Elena. She deserved all the people she could get in her corner.
Jake opened the door and insta-hugged Rachael. She’d gone to Elena’s that morning to help her get ready for the party. No doubt Elena was internally shaking in her boots, but the woman standing in the doorway stealing Camden’s breath away appeared confident and capable on the outside. Goddamn, she looked gorgeous, from the tips of her iridescent-painted toenails peeking out from her wedge sandals, up her tan legs to the hem of her rose-colored dress which caressed her delectable curves tapering to her waist, only to bloom again into a teasingly sexy peek at her cleavage. She or Rachael had pinned her long hair up, leaving only a few curling strands to brush her bare shoulders. Her lips matched her dress and Camden wondered if they tasted as good as they looked. He imagined fresh strawberries and his mouth watered.
Good God in heaven, he wanted her.
“Thank you so much for inviting us, Mrs. Collins,” Elena said as she stepped forward to give Bette a bouquet of purple irises tied with a green bow. Her voice held the slightest quiver.
“Oh, my dear, no. Never call me Mrs. Collins. Only Bette, please, unless you’re Camden who insists on formalities.” She gave him a quick grin. “We barely had time to talk at the wedding, so I’m glad you’re here, Elena.” Bette took the irises and clutched them to her chest. “Thank you. These are my favorite flowers.” Her gaze went to Tina, holding an identical bouquet. “And there’s the flower girl who stole the show at the reception.”
