The Closer You Get (18 page)

“Just about,” she said as she walked into the main cabin.

Brett stood behind the driver’s quarters and peered through the
windshield to find the lot deserted. “Where’s the other bus?”

“Already on their way, following the equipment trucks,” Bud
said. “We’ll catch up to them sooner or later.”

Knowing Bud’s tendency to speed, Brett had no doubt they would.
“Just drive carefully and don’t worry about catching up to them.”

Bud sent him a confused look. “Since when do you concern
yourself with my driving?”

Since Cammie had come on board. “I’m just saying we have two
days to get there, so take it easy.”

Cammie returned, looking a little more awake than she had the
past few hours. “If you two don’t mind keeping it down, I’m going to bed now. Or
maybe I should say I’m going to berth now.”

That wasn’t going to happen. “Since Bud’s driving now, you can
have my bed. Me and Bud can share the berth.”

“You’re okay as a boss, Brett,” Bud said. “But I ain’t climbin’
into a berth with you.”

He wasn’t in the mood for Bud’s smart-ass humor. “I meant we’ll
trade off. When you drive, I sleep and vice versa.” Like he really needed to
explain that.

“Lighten up, Taylor. I figured that’s what you meant.”

Cammie folded her arms across her middle and frowned. “Don’t I
have any say in the matter?”

Brett and Bud simultaneously said, “No.”

“You need your rest more than I do,” Brett added. “I tend to
stay up later, anyway.”

She dropped her arms and looked altogether frustrated. “Fine.
I’ll be glad to take over your bed, and that’s exactly where I’m going as soon
as I get my things together. Night-night.”

As soon as Cammie turned around, Brett grabbed the curtain and
slid it partway shut to conceal the cab. “Feel free to take off now. I’m going
to close this so I can have some privacy.”

Bud didn’t make a move to leave. “Why do you need privacy?”

“Cammie’s going to bed and I’m going to do some writing, if
it’s any of your damn business.”

Bud raised his hands from the steering wheel. “Fine. I just
want to make sure that’s all you plan to do.”

As far as Brett was concerned, that remained to be seen. Maybe
not tonight, but anything was possible after the shoot today. “See you in the
morning,” he said, then pulled the curtains completely closed. Just for the hell
of it, he strode to the control on the wall and sent the wood divider sliding
across the closed curtain.

“Boy, you’ve done it now. He’ll think something really
nefarious is going on.”

He turned to see Cammie sitting on the sofa, one arm draped
over the back. “I thought you were going to bed.”

“I’m not that sleepy anymore,” she said. “But at least I’m
thawed out.”

He dropped down beside her and laid a hand on her thigh. “You
handled everything pretty damn well.”

“Except for the complaining,” she said. “But I swear if I’d had
a pair of hiking boots I would’ve been all over those hills in a heartbeat.”

“You’re a hiker?”

“Used to be. I hiked quite a bit in high school and in
college.”

He narrowed his eyes and inclined his head. “Were you a tomboy,
Camille?”

“What gave it away?” she asked. “Maybe that ‘she walks like a
guy’ comment?”

That plain pissed him off. “Someone said that to you?”

“Yes, but it’s probably true.” She raised her hand as if taking
an oath. “I confess I was a dyed-in-the-wool, sports-playing, dress-avoiding
tomboy.”

“I thought you said you were studious?”

“I’m also an overachiever.”

He learned more about her each passing day, and he liked
everything he’d learned about her so far. “I wondered about that until you
showed up in the casino wearing a dress.” A man-killing dress that had almost
done him in.

She dropped her hand and laid it on his. “I decided to take a
walk on the wild side and see what all the hype was about. I didn’t mind being
dressed up that night, but I don’t plan to make a habit of it.”

He leaned back and laughed. “You beat all I’ve ever seen,
Cammie. A woman trained in classical music who likes to climb hills.”

She bent her elbow on the back of the sofa and leaned her cheek
into her palm. “Okay, so I’m also a little schizophrenic.”

“You’re the most intriguing woman I’ve ever met.”

“I’m sure you’ve met more interesting women.”

None like her. Never like her. “Think what you will, but you’re
wrong.” When she hid a yawn behind her hand, he added, “You’re also sleepy.”

“Yes, I guess I am.” She pushed off the sofa and faced him. “Do
you need anything from your room before I retire?”

He needed to be with her all night. He also needed to ask about
Nashville, but he figured she’d been through enough today. “My toothbrush and
shaving kit.”

She headed away and came back with his stuff, then disappeared
into her designated bathroom. She returned a few minutes later and smiled down
on him. “Good night, and thanks for the experience today. Other than the cold, I
did enjoy it.”

He stood, leaving too little distance between them. He wanted
to kiss her. He wanted to take her hand, lead her into his bedroom and show her
how much she meant to him in the best way he knew how. But he didn’t want her to
think that’s all he wanted from her, although right now he wasn’t sure what he
wanted. “Hope you get some sleep,” he said, deciding to leave it at that. No
kissing. No touching. Just a friendly good-night.

Cammie threw a wrench in his plan by slipping her arms around
him and giving him a hug. They stayed that way for a few moments, holding on to
each other, until she finally let him go.

“You’re a good man, Brett Taylor,” she said as she backed down
the corridor a few steps. “Better than you realize.”

Brett continued to stand there long after Cammie had closed the
stateroom door. She made him want to be a better man. A man she could count on.
He still had a few demons to conquer, but he decided then and there to prove his
worth to her. If he succeeded, anything was possible.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

D
ENVER
, C
HEYENNE
,
O
MAHA
,
Kansas City. More unfamiliar cities and sold-out
concerts and crazed fans. But now they were bound for Tennessee, headed home. As
far as their roller-coaster relationship was concerned, Cammie had no idea where
that was heading, but she suspected nowhere.

She did have to hand it to Brett—he couldn’t have been more
considerate over the past ten days. During rehearsals and concerts, he’d treated
her like a queen, frequently asking if she needed anything and getting it if she
said yes. He’d even had single red roses delivered to her hotel rooms. At night,
he’d treated her like a pariah, making certain the band was on board until the
wee hours of the morning. She’d gone to bed alone to deal with the loneliness
and desire for him that wouldn’t go away.

Yet she couldn’t discount the occasional glances or the casual
touches between them on the bus. She couldn’t ignore the chemistry that still
existed between them onstage. She also couldn’t help but wonder why Brett seemed
so silent and moody tonight. Maybe it was simply a little bit of letdown now
that the tour was finally over.

Before she headed for bed, she gathered a few dirty cups and
glasses from the table and set them into the sink where she’d drawn some soapy
water. Her attempts to wash them were thwarted when Brett said, “Leave those for
now and sit down.”

After w
iping her damp hands on a
towel, she joined him on the sofa and crossed her legs before her. “What’s
on your mind?”

He streaked one hand through his hair. “I have something I need
to ask you but I’m not sure how you’re going to take it.”

He sounded so blasted serious she wasn’t sure, either. “Just
ask.”

Leaning forward, he laced his hands together, forearms resting
on his thighs, and focused on the floor beneath his boots. “Tim wants you to cut
a track with me for the new CD.”

Every dream she’d ever possessed told her to say yes. Every
instinct told her to say no. She answered with a question. “Why?”

“Because he says you’re too good a prospect to pass up. He has
this idea that he’s going to manage you and build your career.”

“He’s making a huge assumption that I actually want a singing
career. I don’t.” She couldn’t let herself want it. “I have to consider the
family business. My grandfather’s not getting any younger, which he mentioned on
the phone yesterday. He’s terrified I’m going to get caught up in the jaws of
the music-industry machine.”

Brett looked totally perplexed. “Do you plan to drive buses the
rest of your life?”

Not willingly. “I owe my grandparents that much.”

“And you don’t owe yourself a chance to have a shot at a music
career.” He posed the statement as a comment, not a question.

She realized how it all sounded—that she was willing to settle,
at least when it came to a career. As far as her personal life went, just the
opposite. “Call me old-fashioned, but I eventually want marriage and kids,
hopefully before I turn thirty in three years.” When she noticed the alarm in
his eyes, she added, “Don’t worry, Brett. I know we don’t want the same
things.”

He seemed to consider that for a moment before he stared at her
dead-on. “You’d really ignore once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for an ordinary
life?”

She surely wasn’t surprised he’d feel that way. “Maybe it’s
hard for you to fathom, but having a family means a lot to me. Fame and fortune
doesn’t.”

“I get that,” he said, although Cammie doubted he did. “Why
don’t you come to Nashville and at least tour the studio, see what it’s all
about?”

She sighed. “It wouldn’t matter, Brett. Songwriting is the only
part of the music scene I’d be interested in pursuing. But everyone knows how
hard it is to break in.”

“Not if you have connections.”

She refused to use those connections—namely him. “I want to do
it on my own, if I do it at all. At the moment I don’t have anything
that would interest anyone
.”

“You have that song you’ve been working on.”

The song hadn’t come up since the day he’d heard her sing it.
“Why on earth would you believe someone would want to record it?”

“Because it’s good,” he said. “Real good.”

“I think you’re crazy.”

He smiled and touched her face lightly, yet it weighed heavy on
her heart. “You know I am, but that doesn’t mean your song’s dead in the water.
If you’ll let me see it again and maybe make a few suggestions, I’ll give you an
honest opinion.”

She saw no real harm in letting him take a look. “Okay. But I’m
warning you, it’s a hopeless cause.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Go get it.”

“Now?”

“Yep.”

After unfolding her legs, she slid off the sofa to retrieve the
weathered spiral from the cabinet above the flat-panel TV. When she turned
around, she discovered Brett sporting an amused expression. She’d been caught
red-handed engaging in covert activity with a ring binder.

“Have you been hiding it from me?” he asked.

He was too intuitive for her own good. “Hiding it from me,
actually. There are a lot of memories in these pages. I think I just wanted to
forget everything for the time being. But if you have anything to contribute,
have at it.”

She leaned back against the counter and watched him open the
notebook to the dog-eared page containing her most recent effort. When he
scanned the text, closed the book and fell silent, Cammie collapsed onto the
sofa. “Don’t just sit there and leave me in suspense.”

“I was right,” he said. “It’s good.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I’ve been lying to you,” he said, again failing to make eye
contact.

Figured. “The song sucks.”

He refused to look at her directly. “This isn’t about the song.
It’s about me. About us.”

She feared she knew what that might entail. “Just spill it,
Brett. I can take it, whatever it is.”

“Tim isn’t the only one who wants you to come to Nashville,” he
said. “I want you there, and I want you to stay with me.”

She hadn’t let herself hope that he’d propose seeing each other
after the tour was over. Granted, she could be reading too much into it. “Define
‘stay with you.’”

Brett finally made eye contact, yet his expression didn’t
provide one clue as to what he was thinking. “I have a big house and a big pool
and a big bed. Or you could have your own room. I have three more.”

Maybe he just wanted his temporary bus driver to fill in as a
temporary bed buddy. “I still don’t understand your motives.”

“I’m ready to try and see how we work outside of this
atmosphere, Cammie,” he said. “I really like being around you. Hell, I like
being around me. I couldn’t say that before we met.”

She was flattered by his comments, thrilled that he wanted to
pursue a relationship, but not too stupid to stay cautious. “Yes, things have
changed with you and between us, in a good way. It’s pretty remarkable. But I
wonder how long that would last and how much time you’re going to give us. Do I
plan to stay a few days or weeks, or until you decide you’re done with me
because you’re afraid to get too close?”

“I want you there for as long as it takes to explore what we
have together. I want us to be a...you know.”

She almost laughed at his obvious discomfort, but she didn’t
find his hesitancy all that funny. “A couple?”

“Yeah. We can do things normal couples do. Go out on dates,
that kind of thing. Get to know each other better.”

“I assume you mean inside and out of bed.”

She could swear he was starting to sweat. “Well, yeah. I figure
if we’re going to do it, we should go all in.”

Cammie would love to go all in—emotionally and intimately—but
she feared the possible repercussions to her heart. “Can you really give up your
freedom and your other female
friends?
”

That brought about his frown. “There hasn’t been anyone else
but you since you came on board.”

“Not that I’m aware of.” She sounded like a suspicious
girlfriend.

He left the couch and leaned back against the counter as she
had. “I was with you almost every day until at least midnight.”

“That still leaves seven or eight hours during the day.”

“So what do you want from me exactly, Cammie? A promise
ring?”

“A promise that you can be faithful to one woman.”

“As long as that woman’s you.”

“And you’ll talk to me if we hit a rough patch instead of
running away?”

He looked a little hesitant, the ever-present uncertainty in
his eyes. “I’m pretty screwed up in that department. Truth is, I used Pat’s
departure as an excuse to stay away from you. I figured if I gave you a tough
time, you’d eventually realize I’m not worth the effort.”

She smiled at his insight. “You’ve been subconsciously putting
me through a test to see if I’m going to give up on you. And guess what?”

“You’re still here, taking what I throw at you. But from this
point forward, I promise I’ll do whatever it takes not to disappoint you.”

Soul-baring was so unlike Brett, and so, so welcome. Still...
“To be perfectly honest, I’m scared.” Scared of shattering into a million little
pieces if he rejected her again and then never being able to put her heart back
together.

“I’m willing to take the chance. Question is, are you?”

Was she? “It’s a huge step, Brett. I’ve never lived with anyone
aside from family, but I know it’s not always a picnic.”

“I know,” he said. “But we won’t know until we try.”

“True.”

He pushed away from the counter and rejoined her on the sofa.
“You don’t have to decide right now. We still have a couple of days and a few
hundred miles to go.”

Even that didn’t seem like nearly enough time to make such a
monumental decision. “Okay. I’ll definitely give it some serious thought. Right
now I’m going to finish cleaning the kitchen.”

She returned to the sink and began to wash and weigh the pros
and cons. She had so many things to consider—namely her grandparents’ reaction.
She couldn’t just leave them high and dry to pursue a relationship that might
not last. But she couldn’t keep letting their needs take precedence over her own
unless she wanted to remain at a stalemate. And she thought about Bud’s reaction
if he learned she’d been lying to him about her real relationship with
Brett—that was unthinkable.

When Brett’s arm came around her, a mug gripped in one hand,
his other resting on her hip, she momentarily stopped thinking. “You forgot
this.”

She hadn’t forgotten how good it felt to have him so close.
“Thanks.”

“Can I do anything else for you?”

She thought of several things, none involving dishwashing. “Not
that I can think of at the moment.”

When she felt him push her hair aside, she froze. When Brett’s
warm lips drifted over the back of her neck, she darn near quit breathing. “What
are you doing?”

“Just trying to show you what you’d be missing if you turn me
down.”

A little more of that, and she’d probably agree to anything—to
a point. “Are you having some sort of domestic goddess fantasy? Because if
that’s the case, and you want me to come home with you to do your dishes, the
answer is no.”

“I have a housekeeper.” He traced his tongue along the shell of
her ear, sending a series of chills down her spine and a surge of heat
elsewhere. “But I have to admit, watching you do the dishes turns me on.
Watching you do anything turns me on.”

Pretending to ignore him, she took another glass from the
counter and began to wash it. “Do you plan to seduce me senseless until I
agree?”

“Is that a problem?”

“If that’s the only reason you want me to come home with you,
then yes, it is.”

He took her by the shoulders and turned her around, a hint of
anger in his eyes. “I live in a world where sex is as readily available as cell
phones. If I wanted to screw a different girl every night, I only have to tell a
roadie to scour the crowd and find me a willing woman, and there are plenty out
there. I don’t have to give her roses or tell her the details of my sorry past
to get her into bed, only the promise of a good time. I sure as hell don’t have
to invite her to my house. So if you think that’s all I want from you, think
again.”

He’d definitely put it in perspective, and she felt somewhat
ashamed over her assumption. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t owe me an apology, but I do owe you an explanation.
I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t been killing me not to touch you. Sometimes I
want you so bad it hurts like hell, and it’s not just about sex. So I’m sorry if
you still feel that way. I just wish I knew how to convince you that what I want
from you is something I haven’t wanted since my marriage ended.”

She reached up and rested her hand on his jaw. “I’m convinced.
Now kiss me.”

The minute his lips touched hers, she ignored the warring
emotions, the fleeting fear of being totally powerless in his arms. She didn’t
notice the lights of passing vehicles filtering through the shades, or the
occasional jolt beneath their feet. She was too lost in wanting him, too keyed
up with anticipation. She was only mildly aware that the counter’s edge bit into
her lower back, and very aware of the proof that Brett wanted her when he
pressed against her.

He broke the kiss and framed her face in his palms. “Every
night when I go to bed alone, all I can think about is you. I think about making
love to you, and only you, every minute of every day. I swear, Cammie, I’d lay
you down right here, but...”

“But what?” It sounded like a fantastic idea to her.

Brett released her and stepped back. “You’re going to have to
come to me this time. That’s the only way I’ll know you’re sure.”