She cried for the child who was abandoned by her mother.
She cried for the teenager who never got accepted by the only family she had.
She cried for the loss of her dad who died and left her on her own.
She cried for the rejection of her possible father.
As much as she put up the rough-and-tough exterior, inside there was a person who needed to be loved and accepted somewhere by someone.
Gradually, her sobs subsided, and she calmed. Cam held her through the storm, rubbing her back and murmuring over and over again, “I got you. I got you, babe.”
She let go of the death grip on his shirt. “I’m sorry I lost it.”
“Don’t ever be sorry for being human, sweetheart. You don’t get to grow up without some baggage coming along for the ride.”
She pulled back and swiped at her face. “I’m probably blotchy as hell. I’m gonna rinse myself and finish dinner for us.”
“How ’bout you go rinse yourself andI’llfinish dinner for us?”
She gave him a skeptical side-eye. “You sure you can handle that?”
He raised his plastic cast. “I can manage. Not my first time with a busted arm.”
She sniffed and dragged a finger under her nose. “I won’t argue. I’m all snotty and stuffy. I hate that.”
“Me too. Go do your thing, baby. We’ll talk more later, yeah?”
“Okay.”
Sabrina used the half bath on the main floor to wash her face, then made some toilet-paper compresses with cold water to put on her eyes. The mirror told her she had the raccoon thing going on, but she didn’t worry too much about it. If Cam wanted a glamour model at all times, he would be disappointed, but he didn’t seem to mind. Real life didn’t always appear perfect and put together. Sometimes it came with snot and smeared makeup.
Nuked baked potatoes, steamed veggies, and a nice, firm meatloaf awaited her when she returned a few minutes later.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked while juggling plates from the cabinet.
“Not really.” She pulled cutlery from the drawer. “Is it weird to want a regular dinner and conversation after all the shit that just got dumped on our doorstep?”
He grinned. “I like how you said ‘our.’ And yeah, this whole deal is weird, but we’ll figure it all out. I don’t know squat about the legal side of things, but nothing will happen on any front until we know for sure if you’re Scrap’s daughter or not.”
They sat at the bar with loaded plates. “You got any thoughts about how to deal with Raquel?” Cam asked.
Sabrina poked at her veggies. “I have no idea where she’s staying or when she’ll turn up again. This is her pattern—showing up at the most inconvenient, random times and stirring up shit.”
He put his fork down and turned to face her with a serious expression. “I got one of those too. My foster sister, Tammie, is back in town. She and Raquel could be twins.”
“You’ve mentioned her before.”
“Yeah.” His eyes went back to his plate, and he lifted his fork to prod at the meatloaf. “This is really good.”
Sabrina’s radar pinged. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Cam breathed deeply, as if debating. “I think we’ve had enough bullshit to handle tonight. I’ll tell you about it some other time, yeah? Right now, I’m ready for some dessert.”
She blinked. “I’m sorry, sugar. I didn’t make anything.”
He grinned at her. “Oh, I have something sweet in mind.”
CHAPTER
