The Closer You Get (15 page)

Cammie was still stuck on “special.” “We have all the time in
the world, at least for now.” Beyond that, she had no idea where they would go
from here or what the future might hold. She only knew she didn’t want this
night to end.

He took her hand again and led her up the stairs where he
guided her to the chaise built for two. “Have a seat. I’ll be back in a
minute.”

After he walked back into the house, Cammie claimed the side of
the chaise farthest from the door. She lay back, studied the host of stars in
the sky and thought about what would happen next. Oddly, she wasn’t at all
nervous, only anxious for Brett’s return. More than ready for his undivided
attention.

He came back a few moments later and tossed several foil
packets on the side table before perching on the edge of the chaise. “Just so
you know, I want to be prepared this time. It’s up to you how far we go.”

She reached over and ran her palm along his arm. “I want to go
all the way.”

“Are you sure about this, Cammie?” he asked. “All you have to
do is say the word and we’ll stop, if you’re not sure.”

She thought he sounded tentative. “Are
you
sure?”

“Hell, yes.”

“Then I think we’ve waited long enough.”

But he still wasn’t finished with the commentary. “I’ll make it
right for you, Cammie, I swear it. Just trust me to do that much.”

Then he leaned over and kissed her again, this time without any
restraint.

Cammie could no longer distinguish the warm breeze from Brett’s
steady breath coursing over her as he left her lips to kiss the curve of her
throat, then her bare shoulders, before his mouth closed over her breast. As he
lingered there, she sifted her fingers through his ebony hair as he shifted from
one side to the other. With every pull of his lips, stroke of his tongue, her
body responded in ways unknown to her. He lifted his head and took a downward
descent with openmouthed kisses until he reached her belly. Then he straightened
and, to her surprise, stood and knelt at the end of the chaise. He clasped her
hips, pulled her closer to him and bent her knees. For a moment she felt
self-conscious and totally exposed. But then he placed delicate kisses on the
inside of her thighs and she no longer cared. He moved higher until the tip of
his tongue grazed the crease of her leg, and she involuntarily jerked.

Brett raised his head, his vibrant blue eyes reflecting the
light coming through the nearby doors. “It’s okay, Cammie,” he said. “Trust
me.”

He continued with soft caresses, just a breath away from his
destination, forcing the pleasant torture of anticipation on her while she
waited for what would come. She might be inexperienced, but she wasn’t ignorant.
She’d talked openly about sex with friends and heard numerous descriptions about
this level of intimacy. A level of intimacy she’d never granted to any man until
now. But nothing could have prepared her for the sheer sensation when Brett’s
mouth hit home.

She gripped the cushioned surface, anchoring herself when he
slid his hands beneath her hips and raised her higher. As he worked his magic,
she was aroused beyond belief. Her body tightened with building tension, and the
bliss almost bordered on agony. She fought to remain in control, thinking that
if she gave in, she’d never recover. But she could no more fight the climax any
more than she could fight her feelings for him.

“Please...Brett,” she pleaded in a broken whisper, wanting
more. Needing more.

She was only mildly aware Brett had left. She was very aware
when he returned and moved over her. “I’m right here,” he said as he draped her
arms around his neck. “Just hang on to me, baby.”

When he eased inside her, she closed her eyes and released a
soft groan.

“Cammie, look at me.” After she answered his command, he
smiled. “Try to relax.”

That seemed almost impossible, but she concentrated on his
beautiful face to counteract the momentary pain. And then the pain gave way to
pleasure and awe as he moved inside her. She wondered how she could feel both
powerless and empowered at the same time. She questioned why witnessing his
waning control was such a turn-on.

When his jaw tensed and his breathing became harsh and
unsteady, she knew he was close to the edge. She also knew the moment he
couldn’t hold on any longer when his entire body tensed before he collapsed
against her.

In those quiet aftermath moments
,
when Brett kissed her gently and held her tightly,
she finally
understood why lovemaking was so revered. She couldn’t understand how anyone
could take it so lightly. Being this close to someone, this vulnerable, went
well beyond the act itself, at least for her. She was glad she’d waited. Waited
for a man like Brett, who’d treated her with respect and care.

The onslaught of emotions overwhelmed her when he lifted his
head and gave her a heartfelt look. “You’re incredible.”

So was he. More important, he’d done something totally
unexpected—made her believe she could actually love again. She could love him,
if he let her.

* * *

F
OR
THE
FIRST
TIME
in his
life, Brett had spent the past hour watching a woman sleep. Normally he wanted
to get the hell out of Dodge before dawn, but right now he couldn’t think of
anywhere else he’d rather be.

Cammie had rolled away from him at some point during the night,
and he’d woken up seriously missing her. Now she was on her belly with her face
turned toward him, her eyes closed against the faint light streaming through the
window across the room, her dark hair fanned across the pillow. The sheet was
bunched low on her hips, exposing the rose tattoo that showed she could be a
contradiction. Part innocent, part daredevil. All woman. And just looking at her
made him feel things he had no business feeling.

Truth was, he still couldn’t give her what she deserved—a
solid, stable relationship with a man who wasn’t a complete failure in the
relationship department.

That didn’t make him want her any less. That didn’t stop him
from wanting to make love to her again before they returned to chaotic life on
the road. But he needed to keep everything in perspective and put some emotional
distance between them. Easier said than done, and maybe too late to turn
back.

“Baby, what are you doing to me?” he whispered.

He realized she’d heard him, or heard something, when her eyes
fluttered open. And all the previous arguments for avoiding getting too attached
went the way of the wind when she smiled. “How long have you been awake?” she
asked in a raspy, sexy morning voice.

Long enough to know he was in big trouble. “A while.”

She rolled to her back and didn’t bother to cover herself,
which didn’t help his need for her one bit. “I slept like a rock,” she said.
“The last thing I remember was taking a shower and climbing into bed. And by the
way, I’m still mad because you wouldn’t shower with me.”

If he had, he couldn’t guarantee he would’ve been able to
control himself. “You needed some time to recover.”

She scooted over and laid her head on his chest. “You make it
sound like I have some disease, like postvirginitis.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you any more than I already did.”

She lifted her head and frowned. “I told you the first night we
met that I’m not some fragile little thing you have to coddle. I just happen to
be a late bloomer.”

A sexy-as-hell late bloomer. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

She settled back against his chest and draped her arm around
his abdomen. “Did you get any sleep at all?”

“A few hours.” He had something he needed to say to her, even
if he didn’t have the guts to say everything he should. “I was just lying here
wondering what I did to deserve to be your first.”

“I was hormonal and you were available.”

Damn. “You really know how to crush a guy’s ego.”

“I was only kidding. In all honesty, I wanted the first time to
be memorable in a good way, not in the backseat of a car.”

“Nothing like those memorable firsts.”

“Your first number-one song?”

“The first time I held my baby girl.” The thought jumped out of
his mouth before he could stop it. But his daughter had never been more than a
thought away since the day she was born.

Cammie sighed. “I’m sure that was a remarkable moment.”

He wasn’t one to share personal details, but he knew she would
understand. “I was two weeks shy of my twenty-first birthday when she was born,
and I was terrified. But when they put her in my arms, I realized I’d move
mountains to do right by her.” Even if it meant letting another man—a better
man—raise her.

“You should try to reconnect with her, Brett.”

He didn’t see the point, and he didn’t want to discuss it any
further. “Can we move on to another topic?”

She lifted her head and showed him a serious expression. “I
don’t mean to meddle, but I care about what this is doing to you because I care
about you.”

He didn’t know whether to be pleased or panicked. “Thanks, I
guess.”

She poked him in the ribs. “Relax, Brett. I don’t expect
diamonds or flowers, although I did appreciate the rose. I don’t want to go
steady and I don’t expect you to declare your undying devotion. We’re just two
people who met during a time when we both needed someone to lean on.”

He’d done most of the leaning. In fact, he wasn’t sure what he
would have done if she hadn’t kept him grounded during Pat’s crisis. “You’re
right. You came along and saved me and Joe.”

She lifted her head and grinned. “Then I believe you and Joe
need to show me some appreciation.”

That much he could handle. He started by flipping her over and
telling her exactly what he wanted to do to her, and she didn’t seemed the least
bit shocked over what some might consider crude. In fact, he could see that
little spark of need in her eyes, felt it build when he kissed her, even more so
when he touched her with his hands and mouth. He showed her that he could coax a
climax out of her after he was deep inside her, something he’d learned through
practice and experience. He thought about all the things he could teach her if
given the opportunity, until thinking became out of the question and he couldn’t
do anything but give into one hell of a powerful release.

And when it was over—way too soon as far as he was concerned—he
realized she had taught him a thing or two. But it didn’t have a thing to do
with sex, and her instructions had been subtle. She’d taught him to be a little
more patient, and a little less quick to judge himself. She’d begun to make him
feel almost whole again, and that he might actually be the man she needed. Only
time would tell, and lucky for him, they still had time to see where this might
lead.

When his cell phone began to buzz, he cursed the interruption
and almost didn’t look at the incoming text. But instinct told him it could be
important, and he realized he’d been right in his assumption when he read the
message from Rusty.

Get to the hospital now.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

B
RETT
DIDN
’
T
SPEAK
on the drive in to Vegas, and Cammie didn’t press
him to talk. As he navigated the remote road at a breakneck speed, she did
maintain a death grip on the door handle, worried they might end up in the E.R.
on a stretcher.

Once they arrived at the hospital, he swung into a parking
space and barely shut off the SUV before he left the vehicle, leaving her
behind. She sprinted across the lot and caught up to him in the lobby where he
ignored the elevator—and her—and opted to take the stairs to the second floor
where Pat had been moved to a regular room.

As soon as they pushed through the heavy fire door, Cammie’s
heart began to pound from the physical exertion and fear. She didn’t feel the
least bit better when they turned the corner down the main corridor to find
Rusty and Bull standing outside the room opposite each other in the hall.

Brett converged on Rusty first. “Is he—”

“Leaving,” Rusty said. “He’s waiting for the discharge
papers.”

While Cammie nearly collapsed from relief, Brett took Rusty by
the collar, backed him against the wall and got right in his face. “You
should’ve said that in the text, you son of a bitch.”

She couldn’t agree more, but she didn’t agree with Brett
turning his ire on Rusty. Obviously neither did Bull. He grabbed Brett by the
shoulders and pulled him back. “Calm down, Taylor. That’s not the whole
story.”

Brett shook off Bull’s grasp. “Then someone sure as hell better
explain real quick.”

“He’s going home,” Rusty said. “He’s quitting.”

Cammie had kept her distance until Brett tore into the room.
She immediately went in after him and found Pat seated on the bed, putting on
his boots, and Brett standing there, glaring at him.

“What do you mean you’re quitting?” Brett said, sheer anger in
his tone.

Pat didn’t bother to look up from his task. “I’ll be sixty-one
in two months. It’s about time for me to retire. And this little episode made me
face my mortality head-on.”

“Look, you don’t have to finish the tour,” Brett said, a hint
of desperation replacing the fury in his voice. “Cammie can fill in now and you
can rejoin us next spring. That should give you plenty of time to recover.”

Pat finally made eye contact with Brett. “You’re not hearing
me, son. I’m through with this life. Besides, there’s a little gal back home in
Little Rock who gave up on me years ago and married someone else. She’s widowed
now and she wants to give me a second chance. I’m gonna take it.”

Cammie could tell from the hard set of Brett’s jaw, his
narrowed eyes, Pat wasn’t getting through to him. Worse, he might never accept
his father figure’s departure.

Brett backed toward the door and reached behind him for the
knob. “Then I guess there’s nothing left to say but good luck.”

With that, he was gone, leaving Cammie stunned by his careless
disregard. Pat’s chuckle drew her attention. “It’s not funny, Pat. He should be
horsewhipped for being so rude to you.”

Pat scooted over on the bed and patted the mattress. “Come sit
a spell and I’ll tell you a few things about the main man.”

She was torn between humoring him and going after Brett to give
him a piece of her mind, what was left of it. She chose to show Pat the respect
his boss hadn’t and claimed the spot beside him. “First of all, let me just say
I understand your decision, even if it does make me sad to think you won’t be on
board to keep me company. But I don’t understand how Brett could walk out of
here without thanking you for all you’ve done for him.”

Pat sighed. “Brett and I are even on that count. He kept me
around for ten years and I’ve got a nice pension to show for it. In return, I
put up with his nonsense and bad moods, but then, I know him better than he
knows himself.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Cammie said. “We’ve spent a lot of time
together lately and I still feel I don’t know him.”

“And that’s why I’m going to tell you exactly what to expect.
He’s going to be mad as a badass bull and he’s going to brood.”

Lovely. “For how long?”

“As long as it takes for him to realize he’s going to do fine
without me. In the meantime, you’ll need to have the patience of a saint. And
you need to remember that whatever he says or does, it’s not about you. It’s
about his dad leaving him, although he’d be hard-pressed to ever admit
that.”

Cammie realized Pat did know Brett and what made him tick. She
also recognized she couldn’t save him from himself, and being his verbal
punching bag wasn’t anything to celebrate. “Maybe it would be best if I leave
now. Every time he looks at me, he’s going to be reminded you’re not there.”

Pat took her hand into his. “You leaving now would only make it
worse. I know it’s a hell of a lot to ask of you, but hang in there. You could
be the one person to bring him out of his pity party.”

That was definitely a tall order, and improbable. “I’ll try,
but only because you asked.”

“You’ll try because you care about him.” He inclined his head,
narrowed his eyes and looked at her straight on. “Maybe you even love him a
little bit?”

She marveled at Pat’s wisdom, and cursed her own
transparency.

“Believe me, he’s easy to love, and hard to hold on to. But
he’s worth it, Cammie. Just don’t give up on him.”

* * *

A
S
IF
P
AT
’
S
DEPARTURE
wasn’t bad enough, more
sorry news waited for Brett in his stateroom. The tan oversize envelope sat
centered in the middle of the mattress, a note from Rusty paper-clipped to the
front.

Tim sent this by courier to the hotel. He said it looked
important
.

Important, yeah, and from the looks of the attorney’s return
address in Texas, he’d bet his last buck he knew what it was about.

He toed out of his boots, stretched out on the bed and turned
the packet over twice. He’d like to ignore it, just like he’d like to ignore his
mentor leaving him high and dry. But delaying the inevitable could cost him in
the long run.

After tearing open the envelope, he withdrew a petition to have
his parental rights terminated, clearing the way for Jana’s husband to adopt
Lacey. From what he could tell, he had until September to fight it, but he had
another fight he had to take on first.

He tossed the papers aside, fished his cell from his jeans
pocket and hit the speed dial to contact the party responsible for this surprise
attack. When she answered, he dispensed with formality. “Thanks for blindsiding
me, Jana.”

“Don’t act so shocked, Brett. This has been a long time coming,
and you have no one to blame but yourself.”

He tightened his grip on the phone hard enough to break the
damn thing. “What about your blame in all of this?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Hell, yes, you do. You’re the one who kept Lacey from me for
all these years. First, you stripped me of my rights to see her except for one
freakin’ weekend a month. When I did have a break, she was always busy with
something. Camp or a sleepover or a cold.”

“Excuse me, but you can’t blame me for your schedule. And
you’re the one who stopped calling her.”

His mind traveled back to that day six years ago, and he got
mad all over again. “Did you forget what she said to me that last time I talked
to her? Just in case, I’ll repeat it. It had something to do with you telling
her I drank too much and chased
whores
.
Whores,
Jana. That’s a pretty adult word to be coming
out of a six-year-old mouth.”

She sighed. “We’ve been through this, Brett. She overheard a
conversation I had with Randy.”

“I don’t give a damn where she heard it. The point is, she did
hear it, you never took it back and she’ll probably never forget it.”

“Guess the truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

He gritted his teeth so hard he thought they might shatter. “I
didn’t start drinking until you took Lacey and left. And I sure as hell never
cheated on you.”

“Yes, you did,” she said. “You had an affair with your career.
Fame and fortune was the only thing that ever mattered to you.”

She was dead wrong. Every drop of blood, sweat and tears had
been for his family, especially his child. “You sure as hell didn’t have a
problem taking my money in the divorce settlement. And you never even gave me a
chance to prove I could handle the singing and the family life. You just took
off with our kid without even saying goodbye.”

“I left a note.”

He’d burned that note and downed half a bottle of whiskey that
night. “Oh, yeah. After seven years together, you might’ve had the decency to
say goodbye to my face.”

“I knew you would talk me out of it, or at least try. In spite
of all your faults, you’ve got charming people to get your way down to a
science. Heaven help any woman who gets involved with you. You’ll only bring her
a whole lot of heartache.”

He grabbed the papers and clenched them in his fist. “Admit it,
Jana Beth. You’re still pissed off at me and you’ve been using our kid as a pawn
to make me pay. Well, I’m done paying.”

“Sign the papers, Brett.”

“Go to hell, Jana.”

After he hung up, he hurled the wadded documents against a wall
and followed suit with his cell phone, breaking it into several pieces that
scattered across the area.

“Pat didn’t mention you were inclined to throw things.”

He spun around to see Cammie standing at the now-open door.
“Don’t listen to everything Pat tells you. He’s full of crap.”

She folded her arms across her middle and leaned a shoulder
against the frame. “Seems to me he’s pretty much got you pegged.”

Ignoring the comment, he stretched out on the bed on his back
and studied the ceiling to avoid her condemnation. “What do you want,
Camille?”

“If you’re done with the tantrum, I just wanted to let you know
that I’m about to head out. The guys want to know if you have a dinner
preference.”

Yeah. The other half of that old bottle of whiskey. “I don’t
give a damn about eating right now.”

“That’s right. You only give a damn about feeling sorry for
yourself. Pat left, your dad left and my parents died. It sucks and it
hurts.”

“Pat’s leaving wasn’t a surprise.” But it had stung like a
hornet. “Everyone eventually leaves. Life’s a bitch.”

“And we only have one of them. So you can waste precious hours
wallowing, or you can appreciate what you have and get on with the business of
living.”

When he ventured a glance he found her standing at the end of
the bed, glaring at him. He considered telling her about the termination papers,
but he didn’t have the energy to get into that. “If you’re done with the
lecture, I’d like some privacy.”

She held her ground. “You can have all the privacy you want, as
soon as I say what I need to say to you. You can throw whatever you like and you
can even throw me out. You can pretend nothing ever happened between us, and
that’s fine. But you’re not going to be able to get rid of me because I promised
Pat I’d fill in for him until the tour’s over. So get used to it.”

When she turned and left, slamming the door behind her, Brett
considered going after her. He owed her an apology. He owed her a lot more than
that. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him. How much he’d come to
care about her. How close he was to landing right in the middle of loving her.
Then Jana’s words came back to him.

Heaven help any woman who gets involved
with you. You’ll only bring her a whole lot of heartache
....

A quick, clean break would be best. Cammie deserved a better
man. The man he might never be.

* * *

T
HE
STADIUM
WAS
EXPECTED
to be bursting at the seams with fans later
that evening, yet the outdoor concert appeared as if it might not happen when
the threat of a severe storm hung over the stage. But as if the country-music
gods had willed it, the threatening clouds peeled back and exposed the radiant
California sun before the end of the rehearsal.

Yet the storm between Brett and Cammie still prevailed. Now her
nerves were frayed and close to being completely shot. She and Brett had barely
spoken to each other since their last tense conversation right before they left
Las Vegas, or the two days since they’d arrived in Los Angeles. He’d acted as if
nothing had happened between them that night in the desert house. She couldn’t
help but feel cheated and used and discarded like yesterday’s newspaper.

Fortunately, Bonnie and Karen had flown in for a minivacation,
serving as her companions during their free time. They’d gone shopping, swimming
and sightseeing, and not once had Brett’s name come up in the context of their
relationship. If the women had been made privy to any information, they hadn’t
let on. When it came to the music part, the guys hovered around her as if they’d
become self-appointed bodyguards to protect her from her boss’s foul mood.
Regardless of their motives, they’d kept her mind off the fact Brett was bent on
behaving like she didn’t exist, as he had the entire rehearsal.

The heat was about to do Cammie in as they rehearsed the final
song for at least the tenth time. Brett was his usual obsessive self, maybe even
more so.

After he said, “Again,” Rusty formed an obscene gesture behind
Brett’s back.

Feeling totally drained, Cammie plopped down on a stool and
swiped the beads of perspiration from her forehead. If King Brett was trying to
drive home a point by working her to death until she lost five pounds due to
dehydration, he was succeeding.

“Get up, Camille. We’re not done yet.” Brett seemed bent on
calling her by her full name now, as if to put more distance between them.