Return To Passion. Carla Buchanan
to complain to or get advice from. He was one of the main reasons she’d quit her teaching job and had gone after her dream. He was behind her all the way and had even paid her rent for a couple months when she didn’t renew her teaching contract so she could focus on writing full-time.
He had accompanied her when she visited her father the second time that day, and had returned home with her. Charlie had then left to run an errand and she’d fallen asleep after a shower, only to be woken up now by a pounding on the door. She had no idea who it was until she remembered that Charlie was supposed to come by after he was done with his errand. Waking up in her old living room had thrown her off and she had no idea he’d return so soon.
He came in with his commanding presence, protective attitude and a six-pack of beer, fussing at her for not asking who was at the door. He pushed past her like he owned the place, heading straight to the kitchen. “Thanks for letting me read those pages,” he said and she looked at him as he returned with a bottle of water. “I think they worked.”
“Eww...you’re using my stories as a guidebook? That’s nasty, Charlie.”
Charlie plopped down on the couch and put his feet on the ottoman. “Hey, you shouldn’t be so good. And it’s not the first time...and it won’t be the last.”
“Eww... Do I know this person?”
“Doubtful, but she kinda puts me in mind of my career rival here in town—your best friend.”
Best friend? She knew what that meant. He meant her one and only enemy, Sonya Brandt. Last Camille had heard she was the lawyer for Krane Foods, which was the most Camille had allowed Charlie to tell her about Fairdell when they talked. He’d informed her that Sonya had been hired with the blessing of Frederick Krane, and their two families had been closer than ever since she’d been working there. That was perfect since Sonya always wanted and felt she was entitled to have Remington anyway. Now she was probably having him anytime she wanted.
Camille wasn’t sure why that thought didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t even want to begin to guess why her mind had gone there.
Camille hated having negative thoughts about anyone, but Sonya was a special case. Camille had often wondered how the woman ever got through law school because during high school she’d never done any schoolwork. It was possible that she’d had others do it for her and that trend probably continued through college. Camille wouldn’t put anything past her. Sonya Brandt was spoiled and stuck up and thought she was God’s gift to men because her father was white and her mother was black. She thought that made her exotic and irresistible.
“Hey, babe, I’m going to go get a beer. I thought I could wait for the food, but I can’t,” Charlie declared once the conversation hit a lull. She’d missed him and often felt guilty that he had to keep her secret. He was her best friend and was often the one answering the questions people asked about her because he lived in Fairdell. He was more like an overprotective big brother than a best friend most times.
The brief silence gave way to thoughts of Remi.
She hadn’t been able to get away from those ever since she’d arrived in town. She couldn’t help thinking about him even when she didn’t want to. But now was not the time. She had other things to worry about, like her father and his return home. She had to make sure the house was clean and there was food in the fridge. She had to—
“I think I hear a car in the driveway,” Charlie hollered from the kitchen. “It’s probably the pizza guy. I left some money on the coffee table.”
She rolled her eyes. Sometimes Charlie forgot about what she now did for a living. She could afford a lot more than a pizza, though she tried to live modestly. She bought the things she desired and she lived the lifestyle she wanted—within limits. Her only splurge was paying off her father’s mortgage. It was the least she could do for the man who’d raised her by himself.
She fished the bills off the table, not having time to go get her purse from the room upstairs. She flung the door open and giggled—the wine she’d been sipping was kicking in. She probably shouldn’t have drunk it on an empty stomach but she’d needed the stress reliever after her flight and visit to the hospital.
She might just guzzle the whole bottle on the next go ’round...or maybe not, because she was hallucinating. How else could she explain seeing Remington Krane standing at the door of her home?
* * *
“Long time.”
Camille was speechless. She’d heard him speak but was still so much in shock that nothing came out except for an embarrassing hiccup courtesy of the wine. And then she took him in. His height, strong facial features, the shaved head and slight beard, the smoothness of his caramel skin, and the very manly scent emanating from his direction made her drift closer to him.
The man was sexy and the sight of him made her libido spring to life.
Camille’s mouth opened and closed until finally she took a step back and said, “Why are you here, Remi?” Her voice trembled and she got angry with herself for becoming a blubbering idiot at the mere sight of her former sweetheart.
“That should be obvious. I came here to see you, Camille.”
“You wha... Why? I don’t unders—”
He didn’t wait for her to finish whatever it was she was going to say. He closed the distance between them and didn’t hesitate to place his large, warm hands on either side of her neck, using the pads of his thumbs to gently stroke her cheeks as if coaxing her to comply with his unspoken demand.
Shock, lust, confusion and longing snaked into every crevice of Camille’s body. The overwhelming sensations made her dizzy. She was so busy trying to figure out what was going on that she had not even realized that it was already happening. His lips had found hers and he indulged in helping her remember times past.
When she started to respond with soft moans, his fingers curled tightly into the hair at the nape of her neck. Remi pulled back, but only a fraction, leaving their lips achingly close.
“Hey, babe, did the pizza get here?” Charlie said as he walked back into the room, obviously not realizing they had a visitor. “I had a hell of a time trying to find the bottle opener. You know you could’ve just left it on the counter.”
Camille couldn’t believe that she’d forgotten Charlie was in the house. She jerked back and when she nearly lost her footing, both men came to her aid before she ended up with her body parts intermingled with the wood of a nearby table.
A large, strong hand landed under each elbow. She was practically lifted from the floor when they righted her. Camille yelped a little and then stepped away from the men. They glared at one another before Charlie spoke first.
“I knew it wouldn’t be long before you showed up.” Charlie took a protective stance next to Camille, folding his arms over his bulky chest. Giving a welcoming look to Remi wasn’t an option for Charlie. He didn’t really care for Remi’s more conservative, good-guy nature. He felt a man who was so loyal and “perfect” had something to hide, though Camille did not agree. Remington Krane was exactly who everyone believed him to be. He was that nice.
She had not even considered that Remi would seek her out. He had not done so in all these years and there was no doubt he had the means and time to do it. She figured he’d gotten over her pretty quickly and had moved on without much thought to what had happened. But, if that kiss and the look on his face was any indication, she was completely wrong. Not that she’d had much time to think clearly in the past few moments. Her brain was still trying to catch up to Remington Krane actually being here and on top of that, acting as if no time had passed between them. His behavior suggested that he was no longer angry with her for the way she left, but now Camille was left to decipher what it all meant. However, her traitorous body was telling her it didn’t care about any of that.
Reeling in her libido, Camille stood tall and mimicked Charlie’s stance. “Why are you here, Remi?” she asked again. She desperately wanted to have