Kept (48 page)

“I have not dated everyone. That’s not even a valid answer.”

“Puh-lease.”

“For example. You. I have not dated you.”

Her teasing morphed into seriousness.

She was supposed to laugh at that. Keep the joke going. If she knew the feelings he’d been fighting about her… He swallowed. “I have definitely not dated everyone.” How had this conversation happened? This was Dillan’s sister, after all. His twenty-two-year-old sister. Cam’s best friend’s much younger sister whom he’d wanted to date for a year now. But of course she was off limits because of…

Yeah. All of that.

The walk sign flashed—mercifully—and he gestured across the street. “Let’s go.”

She walked beside him, long legs matching his pace, hand swinging so close to his.

He made a fist, then spread his fingers. Why did he have to point out that he’d never dated her? And why did she have to react that way?

And why was Dillan the lucky guy who’d found his girl?

They headed for his car, parked several car lengths ahead. Cam cleared his throat. “That is some pretty stellar parallel parking there, if you ask me.”

“Is that why you quit dating girls after a few weeks? Because you don’t know how to be romantic?”

The highway had better be empty so it wouldn’t take too long to get her home. “Seriously. Look at how close those tires are to the curb.”

“Cam, you seem uncomfortable talking about this.”

Smart aleck. “I’m totally fine talking about my parallel parking skills.”

She pulled him to a stop beside a car that wasn’t parked nearly as well. “But not relationships. Which never last with you. Why?”

He tried to send her a patient, fatherly smile. “Jordan…”

She sent the smile back. “Cam.”

All right then. If she wanted to talk about it, he’d talk about it. “First of all, I don’t keep dating someone if it’s not going to work out. I’d call that being a good guy, maybe. Second…”

She tilted her head and that soft, thick brown hair slid over her shoulder.

What was his second point?

“Go on,” she said.

“Umm…” Had he even had a second point? “I haven’t dated anyone this year.”

“Five months. Wow. What’s your reason?”

She was teasing him; he could hear it in her voice. But he couldn’t answer, because
she
was the reason. She’d been about to graduate from college and come home for good.

No, he definitely couldn’t tell her that over the last few years, as he and Dillan had become good friends, Cam had gotten to know her too, and liked—loved?—everything he’d seen. Time to find a much safer topic of conversation. “You found a job yet?”

“Still looking. Is five months a record for you?”

“No. Once I didn’t date for a number of years.”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Yeah, like from age zero to thirteen. Didn’t date once.”

“Oh, Cam.” She closed her eyes, shook her head. “How you must have suffered.”

He chuckled as they reached his silver Altima. They slid inside and Cam started the engine, then waited for an opening in traffic.

They’d left downtown behind them before Jordan spoke again. “What are you going to do, now that Dillan’s getting married?”

“I am going to drop you off at home, then probably stop at Portillo’s on
my
way home to pick up a couple hot dogs.”

“You are so exasperating.”

Yeah, he kinda was, wasn’t he?

“Would you ever date a friend’s sister?”

What?
Cam focused on the cop ahead who kept him from being able to speed home and drop this woman off. Why would she ask him that? He wracked his brain for another woman in the church’s singles group who had a brother he was friends with.

He couldn’t come up with one.

Was she referring to herself?

“Cam?”

“Jordan.”

She huffed in frustration. “What is up with you? You’ve been shutting down on me ever since Dillan and Miska left.”

Was this how twenty-two-year-olds were now? This clueless and persistent? “Jordan, has it occurred to you that this might be an awkward conversation?”

“Why? Because you want to ask me out?”

He stared at the back of the Escalade in front of him, at the taillights flashing red—

Cam slammed on his brakes, coming close to rear-ending the SUV.

A sudden jam of traffic formed around them, everyone sitting on their brakes.

Of all the times to have no distraction to claim.

He made himself face her.

She watched him, vulnerability on her own features, in those big eyes, across her mouth.

Cam blinked back up at her eyes. Was she really saying that she was interested in him?

He’d wondered last week, after spending Memorial Day at the zoo with her and Miska and Dillan. Miska and Dillan had hung back, caught up in each other, which gave him hours with Jordan. He’d loved every second with her—but she was off limits. Plus, he was too old for her. He was kidding himself, longing to see interest.

“Do you?” she asked.

He squinted. Did he what?

“Want to ask me out?”

He wet his lips and looked back at the road. What would Dillan say? To him? To Jordan? “Why would you ask that?”

“Because we’ve practically been double-dating with Dillan and Miska since I got home from school. We’ve spent a lot of time together, and I thought…”

Silence fell. Cam glanced at his rearview mirror.

Traffic piled up behind them. Ahead, no one moved. They were going to be here awhile.

“Jordan, I find it very ironic that traffic stops the moment you ask that question.”

She kept her head turned just enough that he couldn’t see past all her dark hair. “Why’s that?”

Because he did want, so much, to date her. Wanted it more every time he was with her.

It had driven him crazy all last week.

“Jordan—” His voice gave out. What should he say?

A smile crept across her lips. “So I was right—you
are
interested.”

Denying it—when it was the truth and evidently way more obvious than he’d meant it to be—would only hurt her. He couldn’t do it. But he couldn’t speak either.

“Are you worried about Dillan?”

“Dillan
and
Garrett. Your dad. Any other male relatives you have.”

She laughed and twisted in her seat to face him better. “Dillan’s okay with it.”

That
caught him off guard. “Wait a second. You’ve talked to Dillan about… this?”

She laughed at him again. “Of course. Why do you think we’ve been together so much lately?”

Dillan had been setting him up? With his sister? His ten-years-younger sister? “Jordan…” He let his head fall back against the headrest. “I admit it; I’d love to date you. But we’re ten years apart.”

“Nine years and ten months.”

“Dillan might be okay with this, but—”

“And six days.”

He nodded. Like that made a difference. “Your dad will try to kill me. Then ground you.”

“I’m twenty-two, Cam.”

“Again. Exactly.”

This time she had no comeback, only held his gaze like she really didn’t care that he might die—or lose a limb, neck, head—by asking her out.

“None of that phases you? You really think your dad’s going to be okay with it?”

She shrugged. “Sure. He knows you.”

“Some.”

“He knows you and Dillan are good friends. That’s a plus on your side.”

Cam grunted.

“And as long as you don’t jerk me around like Matt did, he’ll let you live.”

At the mention of her previous on-again, off-again boyfriend, Cam stilled. “That’s over? For good?”

“It is.” Her smile vanished, but she didn’t look sorry about the situation. “Cam, I’m a twenty-two-year-old woman—”

He was very aware of that.

“—who wants to find the right man. The man God wants for me. I’m not looking for a good time or some guy to fill a boyfriend role. I want real love. Marriage. A family.”

Family. One of the main reasons he’d kept women at arms’ length for so long. Cam studied her. He knew Jordan. She wasn’t playing him, wasn’t making up some story just to use him. She meant all of that.

Plus she was safe. Dependable. Smart. In time, he probably could trust her with… everything.

He let the smallest smile break through. “I don’t know, Jordan. You’re pretty forward. Back in my day, a girl would never—”

“They would too, and you know it.”

He laughed.

She held her lower lip between her teeth, something bright and happy shining in her eyes.

Cam returned the look, setting her smile free.

“So?” she finally asked.

He shifted in his seat, planted his palm on top of her headrest. “So, Miss Foster, if your brothers and your dad let me live, would you be interested in dating an old dude like me?”

She scrunched her shoulders together, looking like a college co-ed again. “I’d love to, Cam.”

He leaned a bit over the console between them. “No, this is where you’re supposed to stroke my ego and tell me I’m not old.”

She leaned a little closer. “Cam?” she whispered.

Oh, she was beautiful. His gaze roamed her face. “Yeah?”

“Tell me again what it was like before indoor plumbing.”

This was it. Had to be. He knelt in front of the updated, eighties-era, side-split house and tied his shoe. Slowly. Didn’t look like anyone was home, but he’d wait on the street leading into this cul-de-sac and watch. He knew what the guy—this Cameron John Winters—looked like. If he lived here, eventually he’d have to drive by.

Eventually he’d see who owned this home. See if he’d tracked the right guy. Found the right name.

And when he was certain and could tell his client that the man he was looking for owned this home, they’d be that much closer to the real target, the one his client had been searching for for years.

The one who, for so long, Winters had been hiding.

I used to think that a book was the effort of one person. And while that’s partly true—writers write, after all—there are so many people who influenced me and helped in some way.

My first thank you goes to my local writers’ chapter—the fabulous ACFW Kansas City West—who brainstormed and critiqued with me. Many thanks to the crew that helped me plot that crucial opening chapter. Your comments and viewpoints were right on. The rest of the group critiqued it until they had to be sick of it—and worked a ton with me to choreograph that first scene in the hallway. I’d be bald without you guys. And my readers would be lost. Thank you!

I have to give a big shout-out to my beta readers—you all are the best! Ginger Aster, Ane Mulligan, Lora Young, Terri Poss, Jennifer Fromke, Joy Melville, Elizabeth Kramer (if the costuming gig doesn’t work out, you should be a macro editor!), Rebecca Barlow Jordan, Elizabeth Runyan, Michelle Massaro, and Heidi Blankenship. Thank you, thank you, thank you for your time, encouragement, and insights.

To my Christian Indie Authors group—what a wealth of information everyone’s been! It isn’t easy going from writer to writer
and
publisher. Thanks to so many farther down the trail who shared their business knowledge and experience.

Christina Tarabochia, thank you for your insightful edits! I’m so glad I took a “risk” on a new author a few years back and read your book. I’ve so appreciated getting to know you and hearing your thoughts about
Kept.

Elizabeth Kramer, thank you for being my go-to medical and mayhem person. We have too much fun thinking through all the injuries my characters face. Let’s hope the NSA never listens in to our calls. Miss you, friend.

Kristin, thank you so much for sharing your story with me. I’ve only known the “after” version and not the “before,” but I can’t picture you as the woman you say you once were. You’re an amazing trophy of God’s grace. Thank you for being open with me.

Of course I have to say a huge thank you to my family. Mom and Dad, you paid my way through college and let me major in something I was unlikely to make a living on. Better yet, you lived for God and taught me the importance of following Him. I’ve been incredibly blessed by your faithful testimony and love. I can’t imagine that there are better parents anywhere in the world. My sister, Andria, thank you for always being a fan and letting me talk about my dreams. I’m sure that got tiresome at times, me being the older know-it-all sister.

To my husband, Steve, who’s always believed in me. Seventeen years ago, when I talked about writing a whole lot more than I wrote, you told me that the world wouldn’t be sorry if I never wrote. Those words have stuck with me and reminded me that I had to stop dreaming and start doing. You’ve always believed in me, and I can’t even say how badly I needed that. Thank you for supporting my indie journey. You’re the best. We should grow old together.

And to the world’s best kids—Ty, Alison, Luke—you guys have enriched my life so much. It seems cliché to say, but it’s true that because of you, I’m a better woman. You’ve filled our lives with lots of laughter and companionship. Ty and Alison, what a help you’ve been as I’ve worked on
Kept
. This book wouldn’t be available yet without you two stepping up and helping out where needed. Thank you for understanding that Mom had her own dreams and goals and for being excited with me at each step. I love you all so much. You guys make me proud.

Thank you, God, for giving me this writing dream. And thank you for making me wait. The wait has made it that much sweeter. I pray that everything I write will bring glory and honor to you always.