Prescription For Love (The Kingsley Series) (23 page)

"They do," Mac laughed, loving the sparkle in her eyes, the silly grin that took over her when she watched her brother with Cass. She might be a tough girl to get close to, but Mac was thinking more and more every time he saw her that she was definitely worth it. It had come to the point where she took over his thoughts even when he wasn't with her, and Logan had dubbed him "lovey-face-man" at home.

Studying Mac as he watched Cass and Drew together, Cameron's dark eyes followed the straight line of his jaw, the curve of the lower lip. She watched as his deep blue eyes swept the room, the heat of his hand warming hers.

Shame on me,
she thought, giggling to herself in her mind.
I'm at my brother's wedding, surrounded by my other brothers, my parents and all of our family friends. And all I can think about is what this man's chest probably looks like when he's naked?! Jeez, I’ve never been so glad in my life that people can't really read minds.

That thought made her giggle out loud, and Mac turned back to her, surprised. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm just really glad you could come," she answered, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, reminding herself that this would not be a good time to let her dress slink to the floor.

"Okay. You want to go dance some more? Or are you hungry?"

"Actually," Cameron said, "I have to go check on the party and everything, make sure all is well. You know, work stuff."
Before I jump you right here in the middle of all these people. What the heck is wrong with me?!

"No problem, I think I’m gonna go chat with the guys, then," Mac answered, pointing over to where Cameron's father Adam was telling something to her brothers that was making them all laugh like loons.

"Oh I'm sure that'll be a blast," Cameron laughed. Turning to walk away from Mac, she nearly bumped into Tabitha. Slipping an arm around Tabitha's waist, Cameron said, "Hey, I was just looking for you!"

Tabitha laughed, lifting her camera to snap a photo of Mac as he wandered over toward Cameron's brothers. "What were you looking for me for? Everything in order?"

"Well, everyone seems to be having a good time," Cameron said.
Especially me; what is wrong with my head tonight? Wedding high, I guess ...

"Yep, we've pulled off another spectacular shindig," Tabitha laughed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm good; why does everyone keep asking me that?" Cameron asked, her eyebrows lowering and coming together. She frowned. "Is it so unusual for me to be having a good time?" Reaching out toward a server that was walking by, Cameron lifted another glass of punch from the serving tray.

"Cameron, have you been drinking that all night?" Tabitha asked. "The pink punch?"

"Yeah, you said the pink was the one without alcohol, didn't you?" Cameron asked, lifting the glass to her lips.

Tabitha reached out, quickly pulling the glass from Cameron's fingers. "No, Cam; oh my God, I said the red was the one without alcohol. How many of these have you had? And when?"

"I'm not sure, two or three maybe, in the last couple of hours. I just had one a little while ago. You really said it was the red?"

"Yeah," Tabitha answered, gripping Cameron around the waist and steering her away from the party. "I really said it was the red that was okay to drink."

"Well that explains a lot then," Cameron muttered. "What the heck did they put in that stuff then? It doesn't smell like alcohol, so I thought it was fine. If that's the spiked punch, I don't even know how I'm still walking!"

"I know. And since you don't drink, I'd say you're going to be pretty hammered here in a while when all that kicks in. Come on; let's find you something to eat."

"You know, I think I'm okay for just now," Cameron said, edging away from Tabitha. "Really, I'm good. I'm just gonna go find my mom and tell her I'm not feeling well, and I'll go sleep it off in one of the cabins or something. Can you handle the rest of the party though? Make sure it all goes okay for my brother and Cass?"

"Yeah, I got it," Tabitha said. "Want me to walk you?"

Cameron held her hands up in front of her, blinking away the slight fuzz that had settled into her peripheral vision. "No I'm okay. It's not far to the low deck, and if I'm feeling off by the time I find my mom, I can have her walk me. You watch the party."

Walking away from Tabitha, Cameron was shocked. How had she ended up spending the entire evening drinking the wrong punch? No wonder she couldn't stop thinking sexy thoughts about Mac! Not that she wasn't usually thinking them anyway, but - hey, maybe tonight would be a good night to let go and take things to the next level! She'd wanted to ever since she'd ridden with him on his motorcycle, but had been too afraid to reach out in that way.

But tonight, the alcohol could help her; with it, she could drop a decade of fear and inhibition. Maybe with a little liquid courage, she could finally let go of her past and embrace a real future. She could take a little more pleasure for herself, giving Mac a little more of what she'd started that night after the carnival. Following her thought processes, her body warmed; her face flushed and heat pooled in the space between her thighs.

"Thanks," she said, tilting her head at the unfamiliar server who had stopped for her. He smiled, holding his tray steady so that she could choose a drink. To her surprise, there were red and pink drinks together on the tray. Choosing a spiked drink, Cameron gave the server a stern lecture about mixing alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks on the same tray. Feeling her face flush with heat from alcohol and anger, Cameron sent the boy away, giving him a stern message to be more careful of his serving habits in the future.

"Last time I take a risk on a new catering company," she muttered. Holding the glass to her nose, she sniffed again for the scent of booze; finding it absent, she made a mental note to have a talk with the caterer about training their new hires. Fortunately, there were no known alcoholics present to be accidentally knocked off the wagon.

Looking around for her tall and handsome date, Cameron sipped her drink, suddenly noticing the slight burn in her stomach from the alcohol.
Why didn't I notice that before?
she thought.
Well, maybe it really will be liquid courage for me. Maybe I'll finally be able to reach out and take something for my own; maybe I'll finally be able to at least act like I'm not scared.

Finally, her roving eyes settled on broad shoulders, dark hair. He turned, his blue eyes met hers, and he smiled.
Oh, Mac. I really, really, want to let go with you.
Taking another drink from her glass, she took the step that would lead her into his arms.

***

"You get everything checked out okay?" Mac asked, reaching out to pull Cameron close to him. She curled into his side, surprising him, and took a sip of her drink.

"Not really," she answered. "Can we talk?"

Raising an eyebrow, Mac cocked his head to the side. He pulled back slightly, raising a hand to lift Cameron's chin. "Sure. Is everything okay?"

Cameron nodded, dipping her face to drop a quick kiss into his palm, smiling to herself as his eyes widened. "It will be," she said. Placing her half-empty glass on the table beside them, she took his hand and tugged, forcing him to follow her. Leaving the sounds of the party on the upper deck, Cameron led Mac down a flight of stairs to a lower deck, walking around the outer railing in the starlight.

"Cameron?" Mac asked, stopping and pulling her close to him again. "Are you sure everything's okay?" His eyes were dark as night, warm on her face against the cool of the evening breeze. Her body heated, looking up into his face and seeing the flicker of insecurity there.

"Mac?" she asked him, reaching out to cup his cheeks, her thumbs dipping into the spaces that dimpled when he smiled.

"I'd rather if you didn't take me to a wedding to break up with me," he said quietly.

Confusion darkened her gaze, tightened her hands on his face. The alcohol was still working in her, softening her fears, nurturing her courage. Still, it fuzzed her thoughts, dulled her typical clarity. "Break up with you?" she asked. "Why would I break up with you?"

"You, uh, you said you wanted to talk. Women don’t usually mean good things when they say that," he answered, taking her hands from his face, holding them together between their chests. Taking a deep breath, he flicked his tongue out to moisten his lips. Cameron's eyes dropped to the full curve of his lower lip, her own lips remembering the feel of him, her tongue remembering and craving the taste of him. She stepped closer, removing her hands from his and pressing them flat to his chest.

"I wanted to tell you that I'd checked out the party stuff, and all is well. Except for one thing. Tabitha told me the wrong color."

"The wrong color of what?"

"Drinks. I don't drink, Mac. Because of, well, you know. I was drinking then, and I --"

He glanced around, bringing his gaze back to settle on her face, his eyes flashing as understanding dawned on his face. "You drank the wrong drinks tonight. Alcohol. How are you not falling over then?" he asked.

"I don't know. Maybe because I ate here and there, maybe because of all the dancing. I don't know. And I didn't know what I was drinking until I saw Tabitha, and she told me."

He tilted his head. "But you had the same kind of drink when you came to me, just now," he said. "Why did you bring me down here, then? After what happened? We're very alone, Cameron."

"I know," she said. "I have been afraid of so much in the last few years, Mac. I've hardly dated, and when I did, I didn't let them pick me up. I didn't let them drive me home. And for the most part, I didn't let them touch me. I'd watch them get frustrated, and some were outright angry."

"And me?"

"I didn't let you pick me up for a while either, didn't tell you where I lived. Remember?"

He closed his eyes, sighing. Turning away, he leaned on the railing of the yacht, bracing himself on his forearms. He looked over his shoulder at her, watching her quietly as she stood there alone and insecure, her hands gripped together in front of her. "And what about now?" he asked.

"Now I'm tired of being afraid, Mac. I'm tired of being imprisoned by what happened to me." She stepped forward, approaching him cautiously. Her hands feathered up his back and down again, but he caught her as she went to circle his waist.

"Is this because you've been drinking, Cameron?" He turned in her arms, finally releasing her hands and allowing her to run her arms around him. Pulling her into his grasp, he guided her head to his chest, and the pounding of his heart sounded in her ear as he rested his chin in her hair.

"Not for the reason you think," she muttered into his chest. Bitterness was clawing at her; she'd spent the better part of her womanhood rejecting men who wanted her, who wanted to kiss her and hold her and touch her. Now, for the first time she was offering herself to a man, and he questioned her, doubted her.

And she loved him for it, for looking out for her, for caring enough about her as a woman to care whether or not she was intoxicated. "The only thing I'm intoxicated with these days, punch or not, is you, Mac. Maybe drinking gives me more courage than I usually have, but I know what I'm offering you. I know what I want, and I know that it has nothing to do with punch."

"What is it that you want, then?" he asked. "Here we are, alone. The deck is quiet and we're surrounded by emergency rowboats. What do you want from me, Cameron?"

Pulling back from his chest, Cameron lifted her eyes to his. "I want you," she answered. "I want to know what it's like to let go. The last man who touched me was the one who robbed me of my innocence, and I want to make new memories. I want to reach out of my little world and bring something new in. I want to feel your mouth on mine, your hands on my --"

"Shh, stop, just stop," he groaned, placing two fingertips gently on her lips, stopping her speech. "You've been drinking, Cam, and even if you did want me before, you didn't reach out before. You didn't tell me these things, you --"