My latest contemporary romance releases today :)
How to Love a Best Friend is the 2nd book in my How to Love series. These romances are light and humorous, even while sometimes dealing with tragedy.
The How to Love series are different stories, different lives, each a standalone book connected by a common theme... sometimes it takes a special kind of loving to break down the walls we build around our hearts.
When a tragedy leaves her
best friend alone with newborn twins, Cami doesn’t think twice about stepping
in to help out. But before long, she’s
moved in with Mark and so, apparently, has the crush she thought she’d left
behind with her teens.
The attraction between them is undeniable, but can their
friendship take the heat?
Because Mark’s never been more off limits than he is
right now and the one night of passion that dragged on for a week doesn’t
change a thing.
Please enjoy an excerpt...
Prologue
The evening
traffic out of Hammersmith was still buzzing despite the late hour. Blue neon
advertising trendy wine bars, cars stopping abruptly to negotiate parking
spaces, pedestrians zigzagging in front of her as if they had right of way.
Her fifteen-minute
journey turned into twenty, thirty, and each minute ticked inside her like a
bomb.
Everything
would be fine had become
her makeshift mantra.
It had to be.
But Cami
couldn’t shake the feeling that every traffic light delaying her, every jaywalking
obstacle in her path, was slowly eating away at her mantra, somehow nullifying
it more and more by the minute.
It was half
eleven when she finally swung through the doors of Brendall, the private
Chiswick hospital Julie had decided on. Her heart pumping double-time, her mind
as blank as she could keep it, Cami strode to the reception desk and asked for
Mark or Julie Petersham.
The young
woman’s bright smile faded and her expression closed.
“Mr. Petersham
is in Lounge B, straight down the corridor, second left, first door on your
right.” The woman made to stand, her voice kind, too kind, “Would you like me
to take you?”
Cami was
already marching, ignoring the doctor-nurse couple bearing down on her,
ignoring the pounding inside her head that refused to let up. She pushed
through the door to Lounge B and her frantic gaze immediately found Mark.
He sat rigidly
upright in the caramel upholstered chair, hands slotted between his knees, his
face drawn, ghostly grey.
As her mind
clocked the details, she couldn’t suppress the tremble and nightmare visions
that had been threatening to overtake her since his phone call.
Something was
wrong with one of the babies. Maybe both. She’d known it was bad from the sound
of his voice.
But seeing
him... a simple word like bad didn’t do justice to whatever had broken Mark.
She jabbed her
fist into her mouth to stop the cry. The pain in her heart was physical, a
chisel steadily chipping away and she didn’t even attempt to sedate it with her
abandoned mantra.
Julie had had
an emergency caesarean four days ago, almost seven weeks early. Not wholly
unusual for twins, apparently. Even though the babies had been rushed to
neonatal intensive care, the specialist had been optimistic. They all had.
But now...?
She took a
shaky step toward Mark, then another, and then he stirred, looking up at her
with dull shock clouding his sunken eyes.
She stopped
short. Of course, whatever she felt, it was quadruple, more, a hundred times
more, for Mark. And Julie.
“Cami,” he croaked,
then cleared his throat. He stood up and covered the distance between them.
“Thanks for coming.”
He sounded
stronger than he had on the phone, but the wretched sight of him more than made
up the difference.
“Oh, Mark.”
What was there to say?
Tears brimmed
her eyes, reflected in his. He was standing so close she could easily pull him
against her, wrap her arms around him and console without words. But she’d been
denied that for so long, she wasn’t sure how to any more.
“What
happened?” she finally asked, her arms hanging limp at her side. “Are the
babies all right?”
“The twins are
holding their own.”
A wave of
relief rolled through Cami, dissolving the tension knotted at the base of her
skull and all the way down her spine.
“It’s Julie.”
Mark spoke so quietly, she had to lean in to hear. “Julie is gone.”
Cami frowned.
What had his wife done now?
Julie had
promised her that affair was over, that it hadn’t meant a thing. She’d sworn it
was the biggest mistake of her life, the first and last mistake, begged Cami to
spare
Mark the
truth.
Cami hadn’t
needed begging.
She’d do
anything within her power to save Mark from that kind of hurt.
Her lips
thinned in anger. “Gone where?”
Mark looked at
her in silence. He seemed to have run out of words, or maybe just the energy to
express them. Bone chilling weariness sucked at his jaw. Grief haunted his
eyes.
The air
whooshed from her lungs, leaving behind an empty chalice that nevertheless
weighed a ton.
Not even Julie
would abandon her babies to run off with a lover.
“Gone?” Cami
whispered hoarsely.
His hands
fisted at his sides. He took a deep breath. Released it.
“A cerebral
aneurysm. The doctors haven’t—” He cleared his throat. Took another breath.
“The doctors suspect delayed trauma from the general anaesthesia. An autopsy
will be performed.”
Then, as if
the only thing holding him together was the task of delivering those official
details, tears spilled from his eyes.
Without
thinking, Cami held open her arms and gathered him close. His daughters were
fighting for their lives in neonatal and the woman he loved, his wife, their
mother, was gone. The combination was enough to test the devil.
They stood
there, clinging to each other. His chin rested on her shoulder, his chest
hiccupping against hers as he allowed himself to break down. Cami gave him as
long as he needed. She would have stood there all night.
When he
finally pulled back, though, and asked in a scratchy voice, “What am I going to
do?” Cami knew she had to do more than comfort him. She had to be strong.
“You’re going
to survive, Mark.” She gripped his upper arms firmly, forcing him to maintain
eye contact.
“You’re going
to survive for the sake of your children.” Her gaze softened. “You know I’ll be
there for you and the twins. Every step of the way.”
Strength
flowed into Mark.
Cami was his
rock.
Always had
been.
Tomorrow he’d
fight the shock of losing his wife and find the courage to raise the girls on
his own.
But for
tonight, he couldn’t believe Jasmine and Carmen would be fine without their
mother, that he’d find a semblance of peace within himself, that his family
would survive.
He wrapped his
arms about Cami, pulling her close again, holding on tightly.
Just holding.
Tonight, he
needed Cami to help him believe.
Chapter
1
May 20th
Mark kissed
me today!!
On the
cheek.
Oh, it felt
as if my heart grew instant wings and I don’t think it will ever come down to
earth again. He told me to take care and says he will write. Will he have time
to? He will be very busy at Oxford, doing very important things. He looked deep
into my eyes for the longest time when he said goodbye and I just know a part
of him will miss me almost as much as I’ll miss him. It’s only been a few
hours, and already I’m counting down the minutes until his first half term.
Cami smiled to
herself, rolling her eyes at the childish enthusiasm that had carried her away.
She didn’t need to check the date in her diary or perform any quick
calculations to place her age.
She remembered
that day very well.
She’d felt as
if she were dancing on the clouds. Teenage hormones did that to a person. You
were either shooting for the stratosphere or drilling toward the earth’s core,
never simply walking on the ground alongside everyone else.
That diary entry
had been two days after her thirteenth birthday. She still kept the silver
charm bracelet Mark had given her in the Mandarin jewellery box on her vanity.
He had
written.
His monthly
letter had arrived religiously, throughout the first two years anyway.
Cami tossed
the glossy pink book onto the growing heap at her feet, then reached for her
wine glass on the pedestal table beside her.
She took a
healthy sip before delving into the chest again, checking the dates on the
spines until she found the year she was looking for.
When she
pulled the diary out and started flipping through it, a page doodled with red
hearts and arrows stopped her.
June 2nd
Mark just
called to find out how my tests are going and to make sure I’m studying hard. I
told him I’m quite aware of how important A Levels are and I have every
intention of acing them. He’s coming up from London next week. I can’t wait!
Oh, how on earth am I going to concentrate on my studies now? There’s so much
to plan and rehearse.
I’m going
to tell him. Sarah thinks I should. She says he likes me. Really, really likes
me. She says everyone can tell from the way he smiles at me. She says I’ll
regret it for the rest of my life if I never let him know how I feel.
The spiky
handwriting reflected her wired-up nerves from that time of the school year,
the secret love she was about to unlock from her swollen heart, the fear she
needed to overcome in order to do just that.
Cami reached
for her wine again and took a large sip without taking her eyes off the page.
June 3rd
I broke it
off with Harry today. He wanted to know why, but I couldn’t tell him the truth.
I’ll feel enough of a dolt if Mark laughs me off without the rest of the world
knowing why I have to be free and single next week.
Cami turned
the page, sucking in a deep breath. She knew what was coming and still it had
the power to rock her heart off-centre. But she needed to read the last entry
in the last diary she’d ever kept.
She needed to
know.
The last time
she’d spent this much time with Mark was when she’d been at school and he’d
lived next door.
She needed to
crosscheck and cross reference, then and now, and calibrate the risk.
June 11th
Mark came
home today. His taxi pulled up next-door and I leaned out of my bedroom window
to shout hello. My knees were trembling and my pulse raced so fast I thought it
might take off and fly away. He climbed out of the taxi, looking so very smart
in the dark suit he has to wear at Link & Crowle. He’s a lawyer now! It’s
crazy. My heart kept missing beats and I could barely breathe and I thought I
was going to die of absolute adoration. But then he dipped back in, to help her
out.
Her name is
Julie and apparently they’re in love. I suppose they must be. They’re engaged.
She’d sulked,
plotted, fumed, researched and rallied for eight months. After all, the stats
on broken engagements left divorces in the shade, and that was saying
something.
And then
everything had changed.
She could even
say she was happy for the newly married couple when she’d run into them in Long
Fenwick two Christmases later. Mark and Julie were spending the weekend at his
mum’s and Cami was down for the Christmas break.
Julie was
vivacious and dynamic, beautiful and graceful.
If Mark had to
be with anyone else, Cami couldn’t have chosen better for him herself.
Or so she’d
nobly thought, until she’d moved to London and started spending time with Mark
again. Mark and Julie.
Cami closed
the diary, her fingers drumming mindlessly on the hard cover. A surge of guilt
hit her, then sank to the bottom of her tummy and anchored.
She hadn’t
been fond of Julie, had quickly discovered a hard layer of selfishness beneath
all that grace and beauty. And the dislike had definitely been mutual.
Mark had never
had a clue.
She’d never do
that to him.
And anyway, it
wasn’t as if she’d hated the woman. She’d supported Mark’s marriage. How could
she not? He loved Julie. Getting on with your best friend’s wife was not a
preordained fact of life.
So long as
they made each other happy... and by then, Cami had known she could never make
Mark happy, even were he free.
She could
never give him the one thing he desired above all else.
Julie had
given it to him, though, had given him the twins, a proper family, and in
Cami’s eyes
that was the woman’s one redeeming quality.
Cami stopped
the drumming to strum her thumb through the diary pages, suddenly overwhelmed
by the youthful memories they contained. How much simpler life had been back
then, no matter that it hadn’t felt like it at the time.
She did mourn
Julie’s death. No husband deserved to lose a wife, no child deserved to lose a
mother, no woman deserved to die so young.
But the wave
of guilt kept returning.
Maybe it
wasn’t really guilt, but whatever it was, the remnant feeling that always remained
in its wake was unease. Maybe it was natural to feel guilty when something
terrible happened to someone you didn’t particularly like. As if you’d jinxed
that person with bad karma.
“Which is
simply ridiculous,” she muttered crossly, tossing the diary onto the stack as
she stood and stretched her cramped legs.
She’d learnt
all she needed to know.
She could
honestly say there’d been no heart soaring and/or skipping and definitely no
death by adoration this time round.
She loved
Mark.
As a friend.
That silly
childhood crush had not returned.
Seeing Mark
and the twins almost every day these last four months hadn’t changed a thing.
The relief was
enough to make her dizzy.
The twins were
finally being discharged and she was perfectly capable of helping Mark adjust
to his new family in an Aunt May kind of way.
Chapter
2
Mark was at
the reception desk, signing the discharge papers, when Cami arrived. His jeans
and ribbed sweater hung loose on his lanky frame. He’d lost too much weight,
stopped working out in favour of spending every free moment at the hospital,
but his slightly gaunt form was somehow more endearing to Cami than the lean,
muscular triangle of broad shoulders, narrow hips and just-so solid thighs.
He turned,
caught her eye, and beckoned her closer with a smile. “We’re almost ready.”
He wore his
chestnut hair longer now, just touching the neckline of his sweater and falling
across his high cheekbones in thick waves. The look suited him, softened the
newly sharpened angles of his face.
“Excited?” she
asked, mainly to distract her thoughts from just how well that look did indeed
suit him.
Great time to
notice how divine Mark Petersham was.
Second time
around.
“Nervous.” He
winked, then chuckled. “And excited.”
“Same here,”
Cami said, thinking how good it was to hear his laugh again.
Today they
were closing at least one half of a hard read chapter. The cloud that dulled
their world was lifting and she sensed that they both knew it would be gone by
the time they walked the twins out of Brendall.
It was time to
look to the future, to Jasmine and Carmen.
She touched
Mark’s arm lightly and gazed into his eyes, her smile filled with hope.
Now that his
face was thinner, Cami noted, the dimple on his left cheek was more pronounced
when he grinned like that.
And since
when do you notice tiny details like that?
She gave
herself a mental shaking and stepped back, leaving her hand to slide from his
arm. “Where are the twins?”
“Greta and
Carol took them to the nursing station for a final goodbye. We’re to join them
there in a minute.” His gaze travelled down the outsized cotton shirt she’d
buttoned over a strappy T-Shirt, down the black stretch pants she usually
jogged in, and to her trainers.
He flicked
amused eyes up, his lips curling around suppressed laughter. “Super mom
outfit?”
Cami shrugged.
“I wasn’t sure—”
“They can’t
sit up yet,” he teased unmercifully. “And crawling is a good three to four
months away.”
“I know, you
dolt. We read the same books.” Cami glanced down at her ready-steady-go outfit
and laughed. “You know my motto.”
“Always be
prepared?”
“It doesn’t
hurt.”
Brown eyes lit
up with long forgotten humour. “Oh God, you’ve drawn up a business plan,
haven’t you?”
She ignored
him and took to studying the pale cream walls of the reception area, admiring
the oil landscapes that broke the monotony and which, she decided, had an
amazingly calming effect.
“You’re going
to insist Betty takes minutes at the end of each day and prepares a bi-monthly
presentation on their actual-over-target development.”
So much for
calm.
Her chin
jutted up as she shot him a dark look. But couldn’t hold it.
She had, in
fact, drawn up a pretty comprehensive schedule for Betty, the registered nurse
turned nanny who would be living with Mark and providing around the clock
childcare.
Cami had
interviewed her, done the reference checks, but even so, one could never be too
careful. Caring For Baby had emphasised the importance of a strict
routine and
Cami had to
admit it made good business sense.
Life just
worked better with structure.
Mark was
grinning like an idiot now. “There’s going to be pie charts. Broken down into
physical, mental and social. Are you going to suggest cutbacks if they
under-perform? Because I’m telling you, I’ve grown rather fond of both Jazzie
and Carmen and wouldn’t like to see either one getting laid off.”
“Don’t be
ridiculous.” Cami slapped his arm, but a bubble of laughter escaped to betray
her crossed brows.
Mark continued
with his ludicrous predictions as they walked down the stark corridor, until a
vaguely familiar, slightly tinny melody drifted from the nursing station. “Dare
I ask?”
Cami smiled.
“It sounds like Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star unplugged.”
It was, in
fact, a five-foot singing Teddy Bear being presented to Jasmine and Carmen as a
farewell gift by what appeared to be Brendall’s entire maternity staff
compliment.
Mark and Cami
waited at the long counter just inside the doorway until the tune came to an
end.
“Morning,”
Marsha, the senior ward matron, whispered, signalling them to come closer.
“Bruno seems to have put the babes to sleep.”
Cami’s gaze
went to the twins, already strapped into their infant car seats and tucked in
with pink receiving blankets. Their wrinkled eyes, button noses and sweetly
puckered lips were enough to spin her heart afresh each time.
“Bruno?” Mark
mouthed, one eyebrow shooting high the way it did when amusement battled with
his belief system.
Marsha pointed
to the giant woolly Teddy Bear dressed to the nines (in the Teddy Bear
catalogue of style) with candy-striped shorts held up by red suspenders.
“Bruno’s
travelling with you,” Mark firmly told Cami.
It was her
turn to grin stupidly. “I came by tube. I thought it might be better to catch a
ride with you. Just in case things got out of control on the road, you know.”
“Out of
control?” Mark bent over the twins, adjusting blankets that were already
perfectly
snug. “As in two gurgles instead of the regulatory one.”
She punched
his arm. “A simple thank you will suffice.”
He slanted a
look her way. She could see the barbed retort collecting on his lips, and was a
little surprised when he offered her a genuine smile instead.
A flurry of
activity followed as goodbyes were said and promises to visit were made.
All too soon
they were on their own in the car park, the support structure they’d relied on
since the twins were born instantly cut off.
Mark clicked
the remote to open his car and gave her a typically male “what now?” look.
A quick glance
up at the darkening clouds and Cami took charge. “Let’s get the girls belted
in.”
They each took
a baby and went to opposite sides of the car. Cami lifted Jasmine’s carrier
onto the back seat and pulled out from the car again to rummage through her
bag.
“You made
notes?” Mark quipped, watching her unfold the paper she’d retrieved.
“The
manufacturer’s installation instructions,” she told him smartly, propping it up
on the seat. “Petra warned me these things could be tricky.”
Her eyes came
up, met his, and hooked onto the warmth she saw there. The moment stretched,
then broke as Mark murmured, “Thanks.”
“There’s
nothing to thank me for. The instructions came with the packaging.” She leant
over Jasmine, dropping her gaze to the diagram as she pulled the rear seat belt
completely slack and rested one hand between the two infant seats to support
herself.
Mark’s hand
came over hers. The merest flutter of awareness took her by surprise.
She peered up
and found him looking deep into her eyes again. But differently. It was the
same look he’d had that day so very long ago, the day he’d left for Oxford.
Kind, concerned, nostalgic, sad. For a split second her pulse paused, time
stopped, and an illogical message flitted through her brain. Was this another
goodbye?
“I mean for
everything,” he said softly. “Thank you for the last four months. For today.
I—we couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You needn’t
thank me,” she returned, more abruptly than she’d intended.
She couldn’t
help it. Her memory was playing tricks with her head and raising alarms where
none should be.
None of this,
however, was Mark’s fault, and when she saw the question forming on his brow
she added in a soothing tone, “It’s what friends do for each other.”
His frown
cleared. Keeping her locked down with those emotion rich eyes, he moved his
hand to briefly trail a thumb down her cheek.
That flutter
didn’t seem so mere anymore, building in intensity as it wobbled through her.
His eyes were so dark, the colour of melted chocolate. His pure male scent
invaded the confined space and infiltrated all her senses for the longest
uninterrupted moment. If only...
Cami forced
her eyes from his and bit down hard on her lower lip. What was happening to
her? For goodness sake, she was acting as if a passing fairy had suddenly
decided to shower her with potent pheromones bagged from the past.
She felt his
eyes still on her, and knew she had to look up again and pretend everything was
normal. No, not pretend. Everything was normal.
Mark was
smiling. A broad flash of white across his angular jaw, still smooth from his
morning shave. She knew that in a couple of hours a shadow would fall in the
valley of his cheeks and edge further definition to the granite curves of his
jaw; she knew he’d shave again later in the day if he had a formal evening
affair. Sometimes it felt as if she knew too much, and not nearly enough.
She’d released
him from her heart, hadn’t she?
Then why did
it feel as if parts of him were still inside right now, chipping and chopping
and demanding attention?
“You’ve always
been there for me,” Mark continued, “and I might take that for granted most
times, but I do appreciate it. Appreciate you.” His expression remained
serious. He looked older than his twenty-nine years; the last three months had
staked worry lines above his brow, cut crowfeet into his temples, added a
lifetime of knowledge to his eyes. “For being there.”
“I’ll always
be there for you,” she assured him.
“And I for
you.” Their eyes held for a few seconds longer, then the moment passed and Mark
ruffled his hand over the top of her hair with a low chuckle before turning to
strap Carmen in.
Cami felt as
if she needed a break, a cup of tea and a good few hours to analyse the tremor
that had passed through her at his touch, the fuzzy awareness still warming
her, but obviously now was not the time or the place. Instead, she concentrated
on fitting the seatbelt into the infant seat and reached a quick conclusion:
this was all one big misunderstanding.
She should
never had read those diaries last night, should never have churned up emotions
dead and buried. She should never have been so smug.
Too much had
changed.
Mark had his
own children now.
He was free.
For the first
time since Julie had passed away, they were both relaxed, happy and even
eagerly looking toward tomorrow.
Cami pulled
and plucked at the seat belt, and finally achieved something that looked close
enough to the diagram. Leaving Mark to fight his own battle, she slid from the
car and rested her elbows on the roof.
She wouldn’t
allow her past to sneak up on her and hijack her future. Because if her past
thought itself so clever at having resolved all those little problems, Cami
knew better. Mark had never been more out of bounds. Julie had made sure of
that when she’d persistently and maliciously sown those seeds of doubt.
“Oxford should
offer degrees on ‘The Hidden Tortures of Parenting’,” Mark muttered irritably
as he shut the back door softly, adding when he caught sight of her face,
“Why so glum?”
“Speak for
yourself,” she said. “Grab Bruno and let’s go.”
Mark’s head
dipped from sight. He came back up. “I don’t think he’ll fit in the back.”
Cami dipped
down. She could just about squeeze between the infant seats, but Bruno was,
even for a bear, on the pudgy side. A smile lit her mood. “He’ll have to sit up
front with you.”
“You are
kidding.” Mark lugged the bear to the back of the car and flipped open the
boot.
Cami followed,
her humour improving rapidly when she saw the packets of disposable nappies
stacked from one side to the other. Men! “A bit last moment, wouldn’t you say?”
He grimaced.
“Betty thought it might be wise to pick up a little extra on my way over this
morning.”
“A little?”
Mark shrugged,
and continued staring at the nappies as if he could mentally teleport them to
Long Fenwick and get his boot space back.
“Well, the way
I see it, you get Bruno or Bruno. Take your pick.” She gave him her best sad
face, just in case he had any doubts as to how much she was enjoying herself.
A few minutes
later they were on their way, Cami wedged in between the twins and Bruno
strapped into the passenger seat.
Mark’s gaze
met hers in the rear view mirror. “No need to look so cheery. Your turn will
come.”
And it did.
Theoretically,
Long Fenwick was less than half an hour from Chiswick, up the M25 to exit 16
and then onto the M40 for just a couple of miles. At nine thirty on a Monday
morning, however, they were still stuck on the M25 an hour later and not going
anywhere fast.
Carmen stirred
first. She opened her eyes, pale blue and watery, and Cami was just about to
stroke her plump cheek when the little cherub let out a piercing scream.
“Lift her
out,” Mark barked after fifteen minutes of non-stop wailing.
Cami glared at
his image in the rear view mirror, but Mark’s eyes were back on the road as the
traffic stop-started once again. She unzipped the bag at her feet and pulled
out the emergency supplies, then reached forward between the front seats to
plug the bottle warmer into the car lighter.
Mark frowned
down at her as she looked up from her awkward angle.
“Hi,” she
said, smiling comically, hoping to ease some of the building stress. Babies
picked up on these things, apparently.
His warm
breath, however, fanned her cheeks, and a different kind of stress began to
mount the walls of her chest, making it almost impossible to breathe. Long
black lashes dipped across sensually brown eyes. Healthy, golden skin mapped
valleys and ridges in all the right places, and if there were a few extra
roads, it somehow worked for rather than against.
When had he
become so totally, impossibly, male? Good looking was one thing. He’d always
had that. Charm another. That had been her downfall all those years ago. But
this...?
Cami gritted
her teeth.
“Is this
legal?”
He was referring
to the fact that she’d unbelted herself in order to push forward, but her mind
took it one step further and the answer was a resounding ‘No!’ It would take a
jury less than a minute to condemn her. With a desperate, silent groan, she
jiggled her brows and put on a brave grin. “I dare the cop that stops us.”
His scowling
expression melted as his lips picked up a slow quiver that fed fresh tingles
through her. She couldn’t help it. She very nearly groaned aloud from pure
frustration.
What could she
do? His lips were just there... hers were just there... heat coiled in the
depths of her tummy... she’d always wondered... the slightest movement on
either side...
Yeah,
right. Like that’s gonna happen.
She turned her head and fixed her eyes on the dashboard, promptly removing her
lips from all that temptation. She’d be fine. She just needed to grab a couple
of hours alone and figure out what was happening. Then she could work on a plan
to put a stop to it.
She plugged
the warmer in, balanced it between Bruno’s legs, and shot back determinedly
into her seat.
Had Julie been
right?
Was I the
thorn in their otherwise perfect marriage?
A rock of
panic lodged in her throat. Cami sucked in a deep breath, struggling for
balance. She hadn’t wanted Mark for herself. She’d already dealt with all the
issues. Had even prayed thanks to God that nothing had ever happened between
Mark and herself. That she’d never know the pain of having to leave him.
Cami exhaled
slowly. The panic receded. There wasn’t a bone in her body that had resented
that marriage.
When Julie had
hinted at their friendship being inappropriate, she’d made an effort to never
see Mark alone. He’d still phoned every couple of days, but she’d drawn the
line at asking him not to.
Then Julie had
started on the wishy-washy barbs that nevertheless held clear warnings:
You’ll
never take Mark from me.
Unfair and unwarranted.
He made his
choice years ago and it wasn’t you.
True, but irrelevant.
That Julie had
even felt the threat necessary, however, had caused Cami to withdraw from the
friendship even more. But how could she give him up completely? She’d known
Mark most of her life.
Feeling the
pain shooting up her wrists, Cami unfurled her hands, which had fisted tight
enough to crush bone. She’d done her best to address Julie’s concerns. She knew
she was innocent of trying to steal Julie’s husband, of even wanting Mark in
that way, married or single.
And she sure
as hell had no intention of proving Julie right from the grave.
Thankfully, if
that’s what one could call it, Jasmine decided to join the fun. Two screaming
babies were the perfect antidote to manic self-analysis. Cami adjusted blankets
to aid the feeding position, then grabbed a bottle in each hand.
The poor mites
latched on. They must have been starving. She exhaled long and slow into the
heavenly silence and rested her head on the back of the seat.
“Go ahead,”
Mark said, meeting her eyes fleetingly in the rear-view mirror. “Say it.”
“Say what?”
He laughed.
“There must be at least one “I told you so” on the horizon.”
Cami sighed
for effect. “Gimme a minute to catch my breath and then I might even do the
dance.”
The clouds had
finally stopped threatening and what had begun as a drizzle was rapidly working
its way up into a slashing downpour. Sated, the twins nodded off again and the
journey progressed smoothly until Mark was stopped by Long Fenwick’s only set
of traffic lights.
“Isn’t that
Mrs Brampton?” The elderly postmistress, and local gossipmonger, was crossing
the street, staring unashamedly from Mark to Bruno and back again from beneath
her umbrella.
Make swore
under his breath. “The entire village will think I’m an unstable half-wit by
nightfall.”
“Nonsense.”
Cami waved at Mrs Brampton, who was now standing on the opposite side of the
street, still gawking, braving the rain to make her disapproval clear with a
far-reaching scowl. “Hmm... Maybe.”
Mark turned
into Vicarage Street, taking them past the once-familiar houses. Cami stared
out the window, mesmerised by the giant elms lining the street, by the neat
two-storeys with their pruned hedges and three-foot wrought iron fences, by the
sense of déjà vu building a forbidden image in the recesses of her mind.
Her parents
had moved down to Cornwall shortly after she’d graduated from Cambridge and she
hadn’t been back to the village since. Now, here she was, with
Mark, turning
into his driveway with a pair of babies in the backseat.
Time had
certainly not prepared her for this.
As Mark cut
the engine, she looked across the front garden to the house next door, corner
window on the top floor, and shivered as a blast of emotion, so strong she felt
it might sweep her away, took temporary control.
She was
seventeen again, her upper body hanging out the window, bursting from
excitement as she watched Mark’s taxi pulling up.
She was
seventeen again, slumping down against the wall onto her butt, too numb to move
until well into the night.
“We’re home,”
Mark called out from the front.
Cami turned her attention from the window and gazed first at
Carmen, then at Jasmine. “Yes,” she murmured, “you’re home.”