Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5)(43)

Vanessa turned to look at Cameron. She lifted her chin. There it was, in her eyes. All of it.

“It wasn’t your husband’s memory that made you cry,” he said, suddenly understanding so much more than he wanted to. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because,” she said, tears threatening to fill her eyes. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” he asked, indicating Paul.

“I have no idea why he’s here. He has someone.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“I’m pretty sure.”

“But you love him.”

She gave a hiccup of emotion. “I’m just very confused. We were so close. Matt, the baby, everything…”

“Vanessa,” he said sincerely. “You were never honest about that.”

“I didn’t know what to be honest about! I’m trying to move on. Really.”

“All right,” he said, shaking his head. “All right, don’t cry. Please.”

“I told you I didn’t want to mislead you,” she said, but then she lifted her chin, sniffed back her tears and said, “I mean nothing to him. We’re just good friends.”

“Well, that’s obviously not true.” He glanced at Paul, who was waiting for them to stop talking and pull up. “He’s here. He’s waiting for me to bring you back. You might’ve told me you had feelings for him. I’ve been straight with you. You know I’d like to get something started between us. You should have been clear—you’re not available.”

“Cameron, please, I tried to warn you about expectations. Please, don’t make this worse. I don’t want you to think I just used you.”

“You certainly didn’t do that. You could have. I would have welcomed that, but no—you weren’t ready. Now I understand why.” He laughed without humor. “God, I’ve made a classic fool of myself.” He took a breath. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to check back with you later—much later. See where you are. Maybe you’ll be free. Maybe not. But I’m out of this triangle.”

“It’s not—”

“It is,” he said. “I could handle what I thought I was up against. I didn’t know you were in love with someone else.” He took his foot off the brake and coasted forward. When he stopped in front of Paul, he jumped out, went to the passenger side of the SUV and opened the door for Vanni. He then went into the back, pulled out her small suitcase and the stroller, taking them to Paul. “Hey, buddy,” he said. “Make yourself useful.”

“Sure,” Paul said, taking them to the front door.

Cameron got Mattie out of the car seat and before passing him to Vanessa, took a long slow moment to put a little kiss on his head. Then as he passed the baby to Vanni, he placed a soft kiss on her lips. Against them he said, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out better.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered back.

“Here’s your good boy,” Cameron said, passing the baby.

“I had a lovely time,” she said softly. “Thank you for everything.”

He couldn’t resist. He touched her hair, gazed into her eyes. Out of Paul’s earshot he said, “I hope I get a chance to show you I’m a better deal. I can be there for you through all this crap. I’d never let you down, never leave you to wonder how I felt. Never.” He took a breath. “I hope the son of a bitch disappoints you.”

She laughed hollowly. “I’m sure that’s exactly what’s going to happen.” She held her son against her chest and put her palm against his cheek. “Thank you for being so understanding. You’ve been very decent.”

He laughed. “That wasn’t my original idea.” He became serious. “You know my number, in case you’re ever ready to move on. I mean, really move on.”



Paul stood near the front door with Vanessa’s suitcase in one hand and the stroller in the other, watching as they said goodbye. It was sheer torture. The soft kiss, the whispers, the hand against his face. It was all so sweet, so tender. Oh God, he thought. I’ve lost her forever. Again.

When Cameron got back in his car and drove away, Vanessa walked briskly up to the front door. Paul stood there wearing a hangdog look and rather than making her long for him, it set her on edge. Everything in her life would be different right now if he’d leveled with her from the start, if he’d made himself clear—he was committed elsewhere and she was merely a good friend. He opened the door for her and she walked right past him. “Hello, Paul. Have a nice weekend?”

“Not so much. You?”

“Lovely, thanks.”

“I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

“What can be so important?” she asked, breezing through the foyer. “Hi, Dad,” she called as she passed by him en route to her bedroom. Paul followed her with her luggage and the stroller.

“If you could just give me a few minutes. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have waited,” she said, laying little Matt in the crib, busying herself with his diaper. “You could have just as easily returned my calls. Or maybe made a few calls of your own.” She looked at him and said, “You keep saying we have things to talk about, then I don’t hear from you.”