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  Remington liked to think he didn’t need such schemes to get him where he wanted, though he was sure his grandfather would disagree vehemently. He’d say Remington needed to think about the bigger picture and focus on happiness later. But there was a chance happiness had flown into town already and was walking around somewhere close. He doubted Frederick Krane would agree with that assessment of Camille’s arrival, but Remi was an adult and no longer a child trying to get the approval of his family. He had a feeling his grandfather would one day realize that what he wanted for Remi wasn’t necessarily what Remi needed.

  Why he thought it would somehow all work out in the end was beyond him, but Remington was an optimist.

  Chapter 2

  Camille had finally negotiated the busy airport, found her luggage and gotten a rental car. She’d driven the hour to her hometown, going straight to the hospital and not bothering to stop by home. She’d been told her father had collapsed, flatlined and had to be revived. He’d been through a lengthy surgery to clear a blockage in his arteries overnight and couldn’t do much on his own right now.

  The scene before her was so much worse and Camille now realized why her father had tried to keep her away on his previous trips to the hospital. Seeing him so helpless and defeated was something her mind couldn’t process fully. She only knew him as the man who rarely sat still because he loved being out and around his community and his landscaping business allowed him to do that.

  Would he be able to continue at the pace he’d been going?

  The easy answer to that was no.

  And Camille would be around to make sure he took care of himself.

  She only hoped he would allow her to take care of him.

  Her cousin Augusta had told her over the phone that her father had been working long hours. The weather was too hot for even the healthiest, youngest person, let alone an almost fifty-year-old who’d suffered various ailments off and on over the years. Camille didn’t know why her father chose to push himself so hard. She’d offered to make his life easier by taking care of some of the bills, but he wouldn’t hear of such a thing. He’d told her that he was the one who was supposed to look after her, no matter her age, and she’d allowed him to do that for the most part. He didn’t know about her career and the comfortable life she’d been able to have since she’d started writing so he probably thought she was overextending herself on what he thought was a teacher’s salary. She’d had to go behind his back and pay off the mortgage on her childhood home, explaining away the money by saying she’d been doing some extra work outside the school. It had hurt her heart to lie to him, being that she was so proud of her writing career, but that’s the way it had to be for his sake.

  Camille had left town for Reese Ryan just as much as she had for Remi. She had not wanted them to deal with the fallout once people in town found out about the erotic books she wrote. She had not wanted to ruin her father’s reputation or derail Remi’s future. Her father’s landscaping business was his life, just as Krane Foods and political aspirations were Remington’s. Her career as a writer of erotica hadn’t fit into normal, honorable, politically correct lifestyles ten years ago and it certainly did not now with all the success she’d acquired thus far.

  But who knew... Maybe Remington was no longer the person she’d known—smart and loyal, with giant goals and a staunch moral compass. Maybe he was more like his grandfather, Frederick Krane. Maybe he’d changed and had let ambition and the need to be on top make him lax in his beliefs.

  However, Camille couldn’t believe that at all.

  Besides, now wasn’t the time to focus on Remington. Shaking away her thoughts, she gave all of her attention to her sick father and his recovery.

  * * *

  “Camille?”

  She heard her name being called and turned to see her father attempting to sit up. She scrambled from her chair to fluff his pillows but he shooed her away with a scratchy, mumbled gripe. He muttered something about people not listening to him when he said not to call, but she ignored him and continued to help.

  Camille stood next to her father’s bed and took his hand in hers. He looked a little ashen but okay otherwise now that he was sitting up. He was a tough man so she expected nothing less.

  “How are you feelin’, Daddy?”

  “Like I’ve been walking through the desert for days with no water, but I’ll be fine, Bug,” her father said using the nickname he’d given her as a girl. He’d not called her that in a long time and she smiled at the nostalgic feeling that warmed her upon hearing it.

  “I’m so sorry, Daddy. I should’ve—”

  “You should’ve what? There was nothing you could do. You think you being here would’ve stopped my heart from giving out? No, it wouldn’t have,” he said sharply and coughed. Camille gave him water and he drank greedily. She didn’t want him getting upset and she knew talk of what she should’ve or could’ve done would do just that.

  “Daddy... I—”

  “No. Listen to me.” The struggle it took him to talk was making Camille uncomfortable. She wanted to urge him to rest but she doubted he’d listen. “I did this to myself. I admit I haven’t been taking care of myself like I should. I could eat better and rest more. From now on I’ll do that. You don’t have to uproot your life for your old man, Bug.” Once those words left his lips, he started to cough again. A nurse finally came in and presented him with the Popsicle she said she’d promised him earlier. Camille laughed because it was clear that the woman was flirting with her father and he was flirting back.

  After her father ate a little and had fallen asleep again, Camille went out to call her agent. She updated Anna Vinson on her father’s condition and gave her a rough estimate of when she expected to return. Anna wished her well and encouraged her to take a meeting or two while she was there, though Camille wasn’t sure if she’d be able to do so without hiring someone to help with her father. She often took meetings as a “representative” of Reese Elaine, her pen name, so no one would know she was the person behind the books. It was her way of keeping everyone protected and safe from her secret career.

  Twenty minutes after her call, Camille sat in the cafeteria waiting for the home health nurse to meet her. Camille’s cousin Augusta had arranged the meeting because the woman was a friend of hers. Camille was sure this would be a formality since her cousin didn’t deal with unsavory, unreliable or un-Christian-like individuals. It was how most people in this town were, which was what had kept Camille at a distance over the years. A small Southern town where the Bible was law and any deviation was blasphemous was not somewhere she could see herself living out her dream.

  A short talk with the nurse was all she needed to feel reassured about her suitability. Now she had the rest of her day ahead of her. She decided to call Augusta, tell her she’d hired the nurse and go get a nap in before she returned to the hospital that evening.

  As Camille walked into the lobby, she heard the women at the desk talking. They weren’t trying to whisper and Camille was sure she heard her name followed by a couple insults. When she turned, one of the women she recognized as an ex-classmate gave her a sneer. Shrugging it off, Camille put the barbs behind her, knowing they were something she’d have to deal with because of her history with Remington Krane.

  That was a name she tried not to think about, but she had to admit it was him every other thought had gone to since she’d found out about her father. She wondered if she’d see him while she was in town, if he even wanted to see her. She wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. She’d left him all those years ago and had not looked back. She’d done what she thought was best for herself and Remi, as well as her family and the town in general.

  * * *

  Remington knew Camille was in town. He knew because he’d heard the gossips talking about her when he’d gone to visit Reese Ryan. They’d been hard on he
r, which in turn had been hard for him to listen to despite his own need for answers about her departure.

  The good news was that Reese Ryan was doing fine and would make a full recovery in a couple weeks. That was all that mattered to Remington because he was sure it was what mattered to Camille.

  Now it was time to find the man’s daughter. But first he had to see his grandfather, who’d summoned him to his large estate.

  “Have you moved on that property?” That was the first thing that passed Frederick Krane’s lips when Remi walked through the doors of the old man’s sitting room. Remington wanted to curse the man for being so insensitive, but you couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks, and his grandfather was the oldest dog of them all. He was set in his ways and didn’t much like Remi’s way of doing things. He said Remi wasn’t cutthroat enough and that would be his downfall. But the man had not hesitated to hand over the business to Remi when he became ill, knowing that despite his constant gripes, Remi had the right skills to run Krane Gourmet Snack Foods. In addition to that, Remi knew the old man loved him dearly, despite his disapproval.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me how Reese Ryan is doing? He is a respected business owner in this town, Granddad.” Remington walked over to the chair facing his grandfather and sat down. “He is also a member of your church, a deacon and assistant superintendent of Sunday school. He’s a perfect representative of what Fairdell is about, plus he’s Camille’s father and—”

  “It always comes back to her, doesn’t it? Boy, didn’t you get enough of her abuse when she left you here with your tail between your legs? You know that was the best thing that happened to you, right? The Kranes did not need to have any familial associations with the likes of the Ryans. They aren’t worthy of our time. God forgive me saying it but the Ryan girl is probably more suited for a good roll in the hay, maybe, but never more than that. You know where your future lies and it’s not with Camille Ryan.” He wiped his nose with a tissue but didn’t skip a beat. “And speaking of church, it’s about time for Krane to make its back-to-school donation. The mothers of the church have agreed to help give out supplies. I’ve volunteered you to help Sonya with making sure it gets done. Now Sonya, that is a hot little number and her family has the right connections. She’s the one you need in your life and for your future. Judge Brandt is a moral, God-fearing man who’s taught his daughter and son what it means to be successful. Long ago, her father and yours said you’d be together and I plan to honor your dad’s dying wish.”

  Remington had heard this argument time and time again. He knew his grandfather didn’t like Camille because he thought her father’s job was beneath them. However, though Remi did not agree, he didn’t argue. His grandfather would surely have another heart attack if he got him too riled up. But one thing he would not let his grandfather do was tarnish his father’s memory.

  “Granddad, you know that was not my father’s dying wish.”

  “You may be right about that, but it’s mine. And you don’t have to wait ’til I’m dead to make that happen. They say, give them their flowers while they live and Sonya is one stunningly gorgeous flower. But about that land—” His statement was cut off by a sudden coughing fit.

  The home nurse ran into the room and Remington took that as his opportunity to leave. This had happened many times during his visits so he felt no guilt in leaving. The old man would hardly recognize that he was gone now that his nurse’s ample cleavage was in his face.

  Chapter 3

  Speaking with Charleston “Charlie” Cobb was nothing new. Camille spoke to him often. He was not only her lawyer, he was her best friend, and she loved him. She had no idea where she’d be without having him 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.”