There hadn’t been phone calls in the past three weeks from her less-than-admiring “blocked” caller. Evidently he’d either considered her a lost cause, or he hadn’t realized Rafer had been at the house for that last one. Whichever it was, there had been relative silence where the calls were concerned.
That didn’t ease her nerves, if anything, it made them worse. It also made the walk to the bar one filled with trepidation and the knowledge that Jaymi hadn’t been taken from her home the night she had been killed. She had been caught on the street going after Cami’s medicine.
That fact was something her father reminded her of often. That if it hadn’t been for her, Jaymi would have never been killed.
Cami knew better. The killer had been focused on Jaymi, because she knew something about him. She had finally realized his identity.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t told anyone else her secret, neither had she written it in the journal she kept.
Turning the corner to the city square, it was to the sight of a larger than normal crowd.
Customers were definitely spilling out of the bar, sitting on the cement benches across the street in the well-lit square, or at the bistro tables that sat scattered around the wide sidewalk, and in the well-manicured area of the festively lit inner courtyard that sat inside the four sidewalks that comprised the city square.
“Cami!” Loud and boisterous, a feminine voice lifted amid the music and the chatter as a slender figure detached herself and all but skipped across the street to meet her. “It’s about time your fine ass showed up.”
Green eyes sparkling, her freckled face filled with laughter, the kindergarten teacher, Emma Walker, threw her arms around Cami’s shoulders for a boisterous hug.
“Geeze, Emma, you’d think it’s been years since you’ve seen me instead of days,” Cami laughed as she hugged the shorter girl back.
“It’s been forever since you’ve come out to play.” Emma stepped back, almost bouncing, laughter bubbling from her lips and gleaming in the gem-bright green of her eyes.
“Well, I’m definitely coming out to play tonight,” she informed the other girl.
“And just in time for some juicy, juicy gossip.” Emma rolled her eyes expressively as she linked her arm with Cami and began pulling her down the block. “Tell me you were not at the Ramsey Ranch just after the blizzard wrapped around Rafe Callahan like a vine?”
“Like a vine?” Her brows arched as she glanced over at her friend. “I don’t remember being wrapped at all. Locked against that wide manly chest, definitely.”
Regardless of what Rafer thought, there was no shame in what she had done, or in having others know she had done it. What terrified her was losing him.
Emma came to a hard stop, staring up at her in shock.
The chill evening air almost brought a chill to Cami’s spine. That, or the fact that Emma was staring at her as though she had just admitted she had the plague, or was some alien creature from another planet.
“Close your mouth, Em,” Cami advised her ruefully. “I didn’t kill anyone, I just kissed him.”
“Oh my God, and wasn’t it just so good?” Emma breathed out in awe now. “Tell me all about it. No one in this county will even admit to speaking to one of the Forbidden Triplets.”
“Forbidden Triplets?” Cami didn’t know about that one. “They’re cousins, not triplets.”
“But they look enough alike to be triplets,” Emma protested. “And don’t change the subject. Tell me about that kiss. It had to have been simply divine.”
It was all Cami could do to hold back her laughter. Strawberry-red curls fell to Emma’s shoulders and framed a delicate, heart-shaped face.
“Why did it have to be? It could have been wet and slobbery,” she suggested as they began walking toward the crowd once again.
Emma snorted. “I rather doubt it. But if it was, then I still want to know. Now tell me.”
“It was okay.” She shrugged. “It wasn’t slobbery or anything.”
“Just okay?” Disappointment rang in the other woman’s voice. “It wasn’t earth-shattering or ground-shaking, or made your toes delicious?”
It was all those things and so very much more.
Cami assumed a thoughtful look to her expression. “It was okay.” She nodded decisively as though that were the final word on the Callahan kiss.
“Oh, wow.” There was a definite pout on Emma’s lips now. “I think I’ve just been crushed.”
Cami laughed again as they joined the crowd gathered on the sidewalk just outside the bar.
The waitress, a young woman Cami had gone to school with, took her drink order, as well as an order for hot wings.
She wasn’t particularly hungry, but neither had she eaten that day. She was more nervous than anything and eating wasn’t any higher on her list of priorities than it had been the day before.
As the first drink hit her system though, Cami felt the softening haze of relaxation begin to ease through her. At the first offer to dance, she was in the middle of the street with Dean Meyers, the Phys. Ed. teacher at the high school, and several dozen other couples, as a rousing beat filled the night.
The music faded and a round of applause for the band filled the street. Turning away from her dance partner, she was unaware of the large body that had eased in behind her.
She became more than aware of it though as his hard arms wrapped around her, and the once-rousing music turned slow and seductive as the bar lights strung across the streets dimmed to match the slower beat.
“Rafer,” she whispered, her finger clenching on the hard biceps that tensed beneath her touch.
She was aware of not just the couples in the street, but also those along the sidewalk watching. She could feel all eyes on her, watching, dissecting the dance.
“You can slap me and stalk away if you want,” he suggested, his expression hard, lashes lowered over the sapphire of his eyes.
“I told you, Rafer, I wasn’t ashamed of you,” she told him. “It’s not shame.”
“In three weeks you haven’t called,” he told her coolly.
“Neither have you.”
“You don’t answer the phone when I call,” he growled, his head lowering until he was nearly nose to nose with her.
“You would have to actually call to find out, now, wouldn’t you?” she said with a heavy, false sweetness.
His gaze narrowed on her as his hands dropped from her waist to her hips, drawing her closer to him as he placed his hand at the back of her head and pressed it to his chest.
She couldn’t resist letting him hold her.
It had been three weeks. Three long, lonely weeks.
“Any more phone calls?” he asked her as they moved and swayed to the seductive rhythm of the music.
She shook her head, loathe to allow anything to intrude on the magical moment they were sharing.
She expected him to say something more. Some kind of I-told-you-so. A reminder that he had warned her there was nothing to it. Marshal Roberts messing with her head and nothing more.