Hot Commodity (Banks / Kincaid Family #1)(68)

So, today she’d try Allison’s answer for the ultimate cure-all solution.

A home-cooked meal.

She was determined to get to Cameron one way or another. This strange distance they’d erected between them was freaking her out. It wasn’t the Cameron she knew. The Cameron she knew invaded her personal space and butted his way into her life. This new guy was stepping back and behaving oddly polite, disturbingly distant.

Well, it was going to stop. She had a plan.

She’d never mention the annulment again, act like she’d completely forgotten about it, and then she’d flood Cameron with wifely adoration, feeding him and loving him like he’d never been loved before. After a few years of growing comfortable together and falling into a nice, pleasant rut, she’d one day mention it in passing, saying he didn’t have to worry about the annulment after all. They could stay married if it made no difference to him.

Olivia jumped when she heard the front door open. He was home. Yanking off her apron to reveal the short dress she had on underneath, she quickly smoothed her hands over the fabric.

"Livy?" she heard him call.

"Back here," she answered, sliding her hands through her hair to give it one last fluff before he appeared.

And then, there he was. Rumpled and sexy as hell, Cameron paused when he saw the elegant setting around the table, even pulled back a surprised step.

"Dinner’s ready," she announced needlessly.

He turned at the sound of her voice. She almost went to him, but stopped herself at the last moment. He looked exhausted. Deep grooves bracketed his mouth and eyes.

"Uh, it looks good," he said quietly. Politely.

Olivia’s hands balled into fists behind her back. She didn’t want polite Cameron. Distant Cameron. This wasn’t the sarcastic, witty, vivacious drunk she’d met in Vegas. This wasn’t the man she loved.

"Well, let’s eat," she said uncomfortably, gesturing toward the chairs. He cleared his throat and seated himself across from her. The quiet, tense meal began.

"I have some good news," he said, putting all his attention on the linguini noodle he swirled around the tines of his fork.

"What’s that?" Olivia asked, swallowing a mouthful and dabbing at her lips with a napkin.

"The annulment papers have finally been started." He lifted his face. His eyes were bright, almost glassy, as he added, "So you don’t have to ask again when I’m going to get to that." He sent her a smile. "They are now officially underway."

For a second, Olivia couldn’t speak. Hell, she couldn’t breathe. Even her heart did a double take as if it had heard wrong.

Then her lashes fluttered. "O-oh." Her breath quietly whooshed from her lungs in a rush and her pulse scurried to get back on rhythm. "I, um, thank you," she finally managed to add.

Lowering her head, she focused on her meal, acting like a starving woman as she stuffed food into her mouth with gusto, though frankly,

everything suddenly tasted like sawdust.





Eighteen



That night Olivia had a nightmare. Since Cameron had once again snuck into her room to sleep next to her, he was already there when she began thrashing her arms and legs and tossing her head to the side. He jerked awake, then sat up.

"Livy," he murmured softly. He reached out to touch her cold, damp arm, but she screamed before he reached her. It wasn’t some pathetic little yelp either. No, she opened her lungs and let loose. He nearly leapt out of his skin.

"Get it off me!" she screeched. "GET. IT. OFF."

"Olivia!" he said a little more harshly, anxiety lacing his words as he clutched her shoulders and shook, all the while scanning the sheets for the spider—or whatever—that had bitten her. He turned on the light, but the only thing touching her was the sheets. Still, she shoved them away and clawed at her arms, making red marks appear. He grabbed her fingers to stop her, clutching them tight while she struggled against him.

"The blood," she cried out. "It’s everywhere. Oh, God. Everywhere."

Cameron freaked, thinking she’d just lost her mind. "Livy? Livy honey, there’s no blood on you. There’s no blood. Wake up."

He shook her again, and this time she blinked, finally coming to. When she looked at him with wide eyes, he pulled her close, tucking her head under his chin. She remained stiff a moment. But then her body eased, and she wrapped her arms around him; her entire frame surged as she wilted and wept.

He rocked her slowly, combing her hair with his fingers. "It’s okay," was all he could think to repeat. "It’s okay. Everything’s okay. You’re okay. It was just a dream."

After a while, he stopped rocking and they merely sat there, holding each other.

"I saw him die, you know," she murmured drowsily against his chest. Out of the freaking blue.

He opened his eyes. "Huh? Saw who?"

"My father." Lifting her face, she met his eyes. "I was there when he killed himself, and my mother was too."

Cameron pulled her back into a hug, kissing her hair and tightening his grip, because he couldn’t look into her eyes if she was going to tell this story.

"No one else knows that," Olivia continued. "But Vivian was there. She was reading the morning paper when he walked in. After she finally noticed he had a gun tucked in his mouth, she said...she said, ‘Go ahead and pull the trigger, Roger. With the insurance I have out on your worthless ass, you’re worth more to me dead than alive.’ And he did what she told him to do. He pulled the trigger."