Hidden Past

Even though she’d developed a silly crush on him when she was twelve, Grace knew she was a “late bloomer” when it had come to boys and sex. While her classmates were pining over pop icons and movie stars, she had her head firmly placed in textbooks or a Jane Austen novel. Being a year younger hadn’t helped. She was teased for her bookish ways, her flat chest and seeming lack of interest in any of the boys from the nearby all-male college. By the time her chest arrived she’d already earned the reputation as being stuck-up and closed off from the other girls in her class. And after a while she learned to embrace the isolation from her peers. Making friends lost any appeal and she didn’t waste time thinking about boys or romance.

Until the night of her sixteenth birthday.

“That explains why you don’t look like his usual type,” Emily said and jerked her back to the present. “I mean, they are Gucci jeans you’re wearing, right?”

Grace shifted in her seat and took off her visor. She didn’t like the idea of Cameron having a type. “You know fashion?”

Emily nodded. “I love fashion. Not that I can afford anything better than chain-store clothes these days. Riley keeps growing out of his gear quicker than I can buy them. But I would love to have my own store one day. And maybe study design.”

Grace pressed her hair back and looked at the textbook on the table. “That’s a great ambition. Now, about this makeup exam?”

Emily rolled her eyes. “I’ve missed a lot of school this year. Nan was helping out with Riley until my half brother and sister came to live with us.” The teenager pushed the book toward Grace. “My mother is a screwup. She’s in jail. Her husband died last year. No one knows what happened to my dad.”

Grace hid her surprise. Teenagers with serious family issues weren’t something she had experience dealing with. Unlike Cameron, who she knew spent a lot of time with needy kids like Dylan and Emily. “I’m sorry.”

Emily shrugged. “It happens. We’re lucky we’ve got Nan. But she’s getting old, you know, and can’t do things like she used to. Besides, I have to think about Riley.”

Grace glanced at the toddler, still happily playing in the corner. Adolescence, high school exams and a baby? It seemed like a heavy load. “Which is why Cameron wants you to finish high school?”

“Yeah—so I can get a good job or go to college. He’s cool, you know…he just nags me a bit sometimes.”

Grace smiled. “Well, nagging can be helpful.”

Emily laughed. “That’s what my nan says. And I guess I know that.”

“But?”

The teen shrugged again. “The studying is hard. And I get so tired of being treated differently at school because I’ve got Riley.”

Grace felt the frustration and pain in the girl’s voice. She knew firsthand how it felt to be different and then ostracized. “So, how about you show me what you need to study and maybe I can help.”

“Are you a teacher?”

“Finance broker.”

Emily frowned. “Which means?”

“Which means I’m good with numbers,” Grace replied with a wry smile.

She spent the next hour working with Emily. By the time Cameron and Dylan returned, the books were packed away and Riley was asleep in his mother’s arms. Emily had asked Grace to hold the little boy, but she’d resisted. Babies weren’t her thing. Making money and math and meetings and work lunches were what she was good at.

Not babies.

Grace didn’t have a ticking biological clock. She didn’t have some deep-rooted and instinctive yearning to reproduce. She had her career. And it had always been enough.

Being back in Crystal Point wasn’t going to change that. Being around Cameron wasn’t going to change that either.

“I’ll just drop them home,” Cameron said as they watched Emily collect her knapsack and haul Riley higher in her arms.

“I should get back to the B and B and—”

“I’ll be ten minutes, tops,” he said. “Wait here.”

Before she had a chance to object, Emily and Dylan waved goodbye and they all disappeared through the doorway. Grace lingered by the desk for a few minutes and got herself all worked up about his high-handed demands. She was just about to head home in protest when her cell rang. It was her boss, Jennifer Mullin-Shaw.

“So, are you relaxing?” Jennifer asked.

Grace was pleased the other woman couldn’t see her frown. “Of course.”

“And taking the therapist’s advice?”

“All of it,” Grace assured her. “I’m even watching old movies on cable to relax.”

Jennifer laughed and they chatted for a few minutes about mundane things such as the weather and then she gave a brief rundown of her sister’s wedding. Minus the part about making out with Cameron on the beach in the moonlight.

“So, you’re not dwelling on what happened?”

Grace gripped the phone harder and told a tiny lie. “I haven’t thought about the accident at all. I’m feeling…better.”

“That’s good. I’m pleased you’re taking it easy. Give me a call when you’re ready to come back to work.”

I’m ready now.

But she didn’t say it. Instead she ended the call and slipped the cell in her jeans pocket. Her plan to return to the B and B was forgotten when she turned on her heels and discovered Cameron standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, one shoulder propped against the doorjamb.

He looked her over in that slow, infuriating way she was accustomed to. “So, how did it go with Emily?”

She nodded and placed the visor back on her head. “Good. She’s a smart girl.”

“Yes, she is. Did she tell you about her home life?”

“A little. She told me about her mother and how her two half siblings now live with them and her grandmother.”

“Pat took the kids in when her daughter got locked up. Drugs,” he explained. “It’s been tough for the family. Emily and Dylan’s father disappeared years ago and they’ve lived with their grandmother most of their lives. The father of the two younger kids was killed a few months back. But now they have a chance to start fresh with a new home out near Burdon Creek.” He told her how the town had rallied to help the family purchase the small farm.

Grace thought about what he was doing for Emily’s family. She tried to think of one selfless thing she done the past year and came up with nothing.

No wonder he thinks I’m shallow. Not that I care one hoot what Cameron Jakowski thinks of me.

“It’s good of you to look out for them,” she said in a vague way she suspected sounded like some weak attempt to make conversation.

“Someone has to.”

Knight in shining armor. Hero cop. All-around good guy.

Not the guy for me.

Where did that come from? Grace crossed her arms and stared out of the window. Those mindless minutes on the beach the night before, that’s where.

She pulled on her good sense, determined to not think about his arms, his kisses, or anything else to do with the one person who’d managed to get under her skin and make her feel like she was the most self-absorbed woman on the planet. She’d never really cared what Erik thought of her. Or Dennis. Perhaps because she’d always held herself apart and avoided getting too close. But Cameron…he was different. He saw her. Every flaw.

“So, you said you had something to show me?” she asked.

“I did?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she replied and tried to dismiss the silly way her pulse raced. But he was hard to ignore in low-rise jeans and a pale blue T-shirt that showed the broadness of his chest and shoulders. And suddenly the air in the room grew hotter, thicker, like a tempting force had swept between them. She’d felt it before and always managed to ignore it. But today she couldn’t. He had good looks and charm in bucket loads.

“It’s nothing.”

She turned her head to glance at him. “Did you get me here under false pretenses?”

“Maybe.”

Warmth pushed through her blood. “And now that you have me here, what are your intentions?”

He laughed. “Ah, Grace, you are a confusing and beautiful contradiction.”

The compliment part didn’t help her determination to not be aware of him. “Then maybe I should leave and put you out of your misery.”

“What fun would that be?”

“Who needs fun?” she shot back and managed a tight smile.

“All work and no play, Grace? How’s that worked out for you so far?”

“Well enough,” she replied.

“Liar,” he said softly. “And if I come a little closer you’ll be shaking in those three-hundred-dollar shoes of yours.”

She drew in a breath. “You really do overstate your charm. If I’m shaking, it’s with disbelief that you’re so egotistical.”

He chuckled and perched his behind on the desk. “You know, Grace, I like you this way…fired up and ready for anything.”

Grace raised one brow. “Well, get used to it.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said and crossed his arms. “I also like the woman you were last night.”

Heat crept up her neck. “Well, don’t get too used to that.”

He laughed and then just as quickly looked serious. “So, tell me about the accident?” He’d heard that part of her conversation with Jennifer? Damn. Deny everything.

“It’s nothing.”

He shook his head. “I don’t believe you. I know there’s something wrong with you, Grace. I also know you’re too proud, or too stubborn, to say what it is because you think it will give me some kind of ridiculous advantage. Tell me,” he insisted as his brown-eyed gaze scanned her face. “What accident were you talking about just now?”

She drew in a breath and the truth felt heavy across her shoulders. Grace closed her eyes for a moment. Images jumbled in her head. Lights flashing, brakes screeching, metal crunching…it was over in a flash of a second. And then there had been an eerie quiet, followed by the sound of her own terrified breath.

And suddenly she wanted to tell him everything.

“I was in a crash,” she explained quietly, feeling raw and exposed and more alone than she’d ever dare admit. “I was in a car crash.”

Cameron responded quickly. “What? When?”

“A couple of months ago.”

“Were you hurt?”

She shrugged. Her scars were emotional, not physical. “I dislocated my shoulder and had a few cuts and abrasions. Nothing serious.”

Cameron’s gaze was unwavering. “It wasn’t just a fender bender, though, was it?”

“No.”

“It was a serious crash?”

She shuddered. “Yes.”

“And you haven’t told your family about it, have you?”

“No.”

He pushed himself off the table. “Why not?”

Grace’s throat tightened. She hadn’t spoken of the accident with anyone other than her boss and her therapist. Her work colleagues had stayed off the topic, even when she’d arrived at the office after taking a week off. They knew she didn’t do deep and meaningful discussions. They knew she didn’t want to talk about Richard’s death. “There was no point.”

He shook his head. “No point? They’re your family. You were hurt, Grace, don’t you think they had a right to know?”

The heaviness in her throat increased. “I wasn’t hurt badly,” she said in a defensive tone. Not like Richard. “It wasn’t worth making people worry.”

He frowned. “People? I’m not talking about random strangers, Grace,” he said and grabbed her hand. “I’m talking about your family. Your parents. Your brother and sisters.”

She tried to pull away put he held her firm. “You don’t understand. I can’t be like that. I can’t let out every emotion I have. I don’t have what it takes to…to…”

“To what?” he encouraged so gently the heat in her throat turned into an all-out burn. “To get close to someone?” he asked.

Grace nodded.

He urged her toward him and she jerked as her body pressed against his. “And yet,” he said as he curled one arm around her waist. “You feel close now.”

Her emotions heaved. “Please don’t…don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing,” he said so gently her insides contracted. “I promise. But it might help to talk about it.”

Grace didn’t want his help. She wanted to run back to the B & B. But she didn’t move. And instead, she spoke a truth she hadn’t shared with anyone. “Okay…here’s the truth. After the crash I had a…meltdown,” she admitted. “My boss made me come home. It wasn’t my choice. I wanted to work through it in New York. I didn’t want to come back here. I didn’t want sympathy or pity. I didn’t want to feel anything.”

He looked into her eyes. “Does feeling scare you that much, Grace?”

It scared her. It terrified her. If she let herself really feel then she would be exposed…vulnerable. Weak. “Yes.”

He touched her face. “Then I think you’re exactly where you need to be.”

In his arms? It was the one place she could never be. She shook her head and pulled away. “Promise me you won’t say anything. I don’t want my parents to—”

“I promise,” he said gently and dropped his arms. “For now.”

Chapter Four

Later that afternoon Cameron lingered by the table in his mother’s kitchen while she stacked plastic containers into two separate carry bags.

“You know, I can cook for myself,” he mentioned, and grinned.

“Me, too,” his sister Lauren piped up in agreement.

Irene Jakowski gave a look which said she didn’t believe either of them. “Humor me and take this anyway.”

Which is exactly what they would do. He inhaled the delicious scent of the cabbage rolls. He did love his mother’s golabki.

“Not too much, please, Matka,” Lauren patted her flat stomach and used the Polish word for mother, which his parents preferred. “Or I’ll end up as big as a house.”

“Beef and a little mushroom wrapped in cabbage leaves won’t add any pounds,” Irene said and raised her brows at her youngest child. “Besides, you’re too skinny.”

“True,” Cameron agreed and winced when Lauren’s elbow jabbed him in the ribs.

But he was right. His sister looked too thin. Which wasn’t a surprise, considering she’d endured a messy divorce a year earlier. He was pleased she now seemed to be pulling through the worst of it.

“The wedding was just lovely, don’t you think?” Irene looked at Cameron as she spoke. He knew where it was going. “Evie made a lovely bride.”

He was pretty sure Irene had once hoped he’d hook up with Evie, but he’d never felt that way about her. Grace, on the other hand…his mother knew a little of their failed relationship. It wasn’t something he enjoyed mulling over.

“The dress looked fabulous,” Lauren chimed in to say. His sister and mother owned a bridal store in Bellandale and he knew they’d fitted Evie for her gown. “I knew the off-the-shoulder design was a good—”

Cameron groaned. “If you two are gonna talk dresses I’m outta here.”

His mother chuckled. “I only said she made a lovely bride. But all the Preston girls are quite lovely, aren’t they? Even Grace, once you get past her prickles.”

“Prickles?” Lauren echoed with a frown. “You mean icy barbs. There’s no doubt she’s beautiful, but she doesn’t exactly bring on the warm fuzzies. Not like Evie and M.J.” Lauren grabbed the bag their mother passed her way. “Anyway, enough gossiping, I have to get going.”

Lauren hugged them both and was gone within a minute.

“I should get going, too,” he said, grabbing his keys from the table.

“Your dad won’t be back from golf for another hour,” she said and grabbed the kettle. “Feel like staying for coffee?”

He glanced at his watch. “Sure.”

“Do you also feel like talking about whatever’s on your mind at the moment?”

He had to hand it to his mother—she had the female intuition thing down pat. “Not especially.”

“Grace, I suppose?”

He looked up. “What?”

“You’re always edgy when she’s in town. I saw you talking to her at the wedding so I figured there was some connection to your current mood.”

Cameron pulled out a chair and sat down. “You’re imagining things. And my mood is fine.”

Irene shrugged. “How long is she back for this time?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Barbara is worried about her,” his mother confided. Barbara Preston was Irene’s closest friend. “Know anything?”

Cameron ignored the tightness in his chest. He didn’t like lying but wasn’t about to get drawn into a conversation about Grace, especially when he’d promised to keep her secrets. “Not a thing.”

Irene nodded, gave a wry smile and then switched the subject. “So, you’re coming to the reunion this year?”

The Jakowski family reunion was an annual event that had been tradition for more than thirty years. “I’ll do my best.”

“It will make your father happy if you come.”

“I know,” he said, but doubted he’d attend. He’d missed four of the past five years and this year was shaping up to be no exception. Because even though Franciszek Jakowski treated him like he was his son in every possible way and he loved the other man dearly, when it came to the huge family gathering, Cameron always felt like a fraud.

His mother had married Franciszek when she was just twenty with a three-year-old on her hip. By the time Lauren arrived a few years later he had already been adopted by Franciszek and he was the only father Cameron knew. His biological father had bailed well before he was born, not prepared for teenage parenthood. Irene never talked about him and Cameron never asked. It was only sometimes that he wondered about him, or when faced with the reunion picnic that he felt like he was there by default. Because Jakowski blood didn’t run through his veins. He wasn’t really part of the four generations of Polish ancestry that was celebrated by his parents and grandparents and uncle and aunts and countless cousins. He was the biological son of a seventeen-year-old misfit who had disappeared off the radar once his teenage girlfriend discovered she was pregnant.

“Please try,” he heard his mother say and it quickly got his thoughts back on track.

He drank some of the coffee she’d placed in front of him and smiled. “I will, Matka, I promise.”

A few hours later he was sitting on the wide timber deck of his double story, four bedroom, two living rooms, way too big to be practical house, a drink in front of him that he hadn’t touched. He’d purchased the half-acre block nine years ago and then designed and built the home, of which he only used about one quarter of the rooms.

It was cold out and he heard the sea crashing against the rocks. In the distance he could see the lights from a vessel in the shipping lane, most likely a tanker on its way to collect cargo from the port south of Bellandale. Locally grown sugar cane was shipped out by the ton and the big ships came by weekly during crushing season.

Cattle bellowed in the distance and the sound was oddly comforting. Living in the most northern end of Crystal Point, he had only one close neighbor—an elderly couple who lived in a small house across from his in the quiet cul-de-sac. Cameron liked the solitude and the view. With hundreds of acres of unspoiled pasture behind and the Pacific Ocean to the front, it was an idyllic location.

The dog at his feet yawned and rolled onto its back and it made him smile a bit. The big, goofy mutt had a way of doing that. But the smile on his face didn’t last long. His thoughts were full of Grace.

She’d been in a car crash? She could have died.

Life without Grace in it…

The idea made his bones ache. In just twenty-four hours she’d gotten so deep under his skin he could barely think about anything else. He wanted to call her, hear her voice. He stared at the telephone, then grabbed it and his drink and headed inside. Jed hunkered after him and when Cameron started flicking off lights the dog settled on his big mat by the back door.

Once the house was locked up he took a shower and then dropped into bed. The digital clock on the side table blinked ten-thirty at him. Late enough to sleep, he figured and switched off the lamp before he rolled onto his stomach.

Green eyes haunted him instantly.

He grabbed a pillow and punched it a couple of times.

Green eyes and perfectly straight almost black hair.

Cameron flipped onto his back with a groan, determined to not think about her, and failed miserably. Her unexpected vulnerability distracted him, made him forget she was the world’s number one ice princess. He shouldn’t want her. But he did.

She made him crazy. Still.

And her kisses were like something from out of this world… .

The first time he’d kissed her was on her sixteenth birthday. He’d deliberately arrived late to her party to avoid his growing awareness of her whenever she came near. She was too young. Noah’s—his best friend’s—sister. And despite the odd time he’d catch her watching him when she thought he wasn’t looking, she’d barely give him the time of day. Until that night. A darkened doorway and the heady beat of some old song in the background had shifted her usual reserve. A few minutes alone and the temptation of a birthday kiss and he couldn’t help but claim her lips. If it hadn’t been for a strict voice in his head telling him she was off-limits for at least a couple more years, they might have done more than share a sweet, unforgettable kiss.

A year and a half later he asked her out for real. By then she’d finished school and he was settled into his career as a second-year officer, had wheels and was saving to buy some land where he’d eventually build a house he hoped she’d one day be proud to live in. He’d had plans, ideas, and every one had included Grace Preston. But three months into their relationship she’d said goodbye and headed to New York.

So what the hell am I thinking? Like I want to be on the receiving end of her rejection again.

Was it just sexual frustration that had him feeling like he did? He flipped back onto his stomach. If he kept thinking about how it felt to kiss her, touch her, stroke her beautiful skin, he’d never get to sleep.

Too late.

Cameron rolled again and stared at the ceiling.

He closed his eyes. A busy week loomed ahead. He had a pile of work on his desk, including a few court appearances. One to give evidence against a repeat DUI offender looking to avoid jail time and Cameron doubted the hard-line magistrate would be lenient. The other two involved breaches of domestic violence orders.

He took a deep breath and tried to relax. But when sleep finally came, his dreams were haunted by bright green eyes…

Because she prided herself on being action oriented, Grace had spent most of the afternoon and evening coming up with ways to pull herself from the uncharacteristic funk that had taken hold of her life.

And one thought kept coming back to her.

Cameron.

If he dared breathe a word to her family she would be completely outed.

And one thing Grace knew for certain—once they knew what had happened to her she would be enveloped in their care and compassion and her fraught nerves would surely fracture. She also knew she didn’t have the strength for it. It was easier to stay stoic and in control. Easier to act the role she’d played all her life—the supercool and tough-as-nails Grace who would return to New York without anyone guessing she was broken inside.

All she had to do was make sure Cameron kept his mouth shut.

Grace called him again the following morning and when the call went to voice mail, decided to take more action and see him in person. She took Evie’s Honda and drove past his house and since his car wasn’t there, figured he was at work. So she headed into town.

The police station was easy to find and she scored a parking spot outside. She’d dressed in a black skirt, matching jacket and collared red shirt. The black knee-high boots and patent bag added to the effect she wanted. All business. All control.