Personal Assets (Texas Nights) (34 page)

It was a double-life-sized Cameron Wright, with his pocket and pink undies flapping in the wind. And right between his two still drool-worthy butt cheeks, she had pinned a long furry donkey tail.

And darned if she didn’t love that jackass.

Chapter Thirty

With a muted click of the lock, Cameron entered Personal Assets through Red Light’s connecting door. Roxanne had taken pity on him when he showed up at her place begging for help. As he crept across the foyer, he compared tonight with the first time he’d walked through the door. Then, he’d been intent on swaying Allie to his way of thinking. Tonight, he also planned to convince her to see the situation from his point of view. This time, though, he wasn’t so damned confident. He had no assurance she’d listen to him, but he wouldn’t walk away without putting it all on the line.

All he needed was a second chance—okay, a third chance—with the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

From the conference room, Allie said, “Ladies, welcome to this evening’s seminar, Tug of War: When Winning Isn’t Winning.”

He sat in the foyer for almost an hour, listening to Allie talk about compromise and love before she opened the session for Q&A.

A voice drifted from the meeting room. “Let’s say my husband acts like a real horse’s patootie when I’m trying to talk to him about something important and he up and changes the subject?”

Allie responded, “It’s important to remember men are, by nature, fixers and problem solvers. He may have a couple of reasons for behaving that way. One, he’s trying to deflect the importance of the problem, not because he thinks
you
are unimportant, but because he’s trying to convince you not to be upset about it.” She paused and then said, “Another possibility is that he doesn’t know how to solve your problem and feels impotent—”

Laughter broke out.

“Not that kind of impotent. Men and women communicate for different reasons. Women communicate to create a sense of solidarity, togetherness. We like to hear ‘I know how you feel.’ We want empathy. Men, however, are offended by that same response.”

“Why?”

“Because they see everything as a one-up, one-down situation. If someone tells a guy she understands how he feels, he sees that as a denial of his unique situation. He’s lost status. There is literally a winner and a loser in every scenario. Ladies, life is a zero sum game for guys.”

“You’re saying we shouldn’t expect our husbands, boyfriends or lovers to talk to us?”

“No, but you need to go into those conversations with your eyes wide open. If you want someone to console you, sympathize with you and mull over the issue again and again and again, call your girlfriends.” He could hear the squeak of her chair as she shifted in it. “When I was having both family and man problems, I needed Roxanne and Eden to help me create a plan. Not because I needed their permission to act, but because I wanted their feedback and support. A man, though, might’ve tried to force-feed me a solution. That’s not what I wanted, not what I needed. I just needed someone to listen so I could create my own plan and carry it out.”

A burning meteor landed right in Cameron’s gut. Man, had she nailed it. That was exactly what he’d done. She’d been hurting and he’d wanted to do whatever he could to cure the symptoms, stop the pain.

“You’re telling me if I need my toilet unclogged, my husband is the guy. But if I want someone to listen I’m out of luck?”

“Talk to him but explain you’re not asking him to solve your problem, that you just need to get it off your chest. But don’t expect him to sit there while you talk for hours. His frustration level will rival yours when he’s left the toilet seat up for the fortieth time in a week.”

One woman gave a gusty sigh. “Why do we even bother?”

“Multiple orgasms?” another answered.

“Oh yeah, I forgot.”

“Not the way Carl does them. I don’t ever forget.”

“If everything is a competition with men,” someone who sounded a lot like his mom said, “how do we ever come out on top?”

Groans came from the room. “Emmalee, you made yourself a target with that question.”

“Oh, you know what I meant.”

A prickle of heat crept up Cameron’s neck.

“Sometimes it’s a matter of patience,” Allie said. “He’ll often do what you want, but you have to give him time to decide it was his own idea.”

Was that what she’d been doing? Waiting for him to get his head out of his ass?

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

“I never told you it was fair, but each of us has to make the decision about how far we’re willing to go without losing ourselves. How important it is to make a relationship work. You may not always like it or agree with it, but if you understand what’s going on inside his head, you have a much better chance of making it for the long haul.”

“What if you’re only in it for the sex?”

There was no answer for several seconds, but finally Allie said, “You know I’m all for getting yours, but I’m now a firm believer that relationships should be based on something besides the physical alone. People have the need to love and be loved, and if you’re just in it for the sex, the odds are good one of you will feel you’ve been shortchanged in the end because the relationship was never balanced in the first place.” Her voice dwindled off.

Cameron wrapped the bit of cord he held around his fist, let it bite into his palm. If he was going to do this, he might as well do it right, show Allie how she saw him was a thousand times more important than other people’s regard for him. He filled his lungs. Would she think they still had a chance, that they wanted the same thing?

He knew what he wanted—a house, couple of kids down the road, maybe a dog, her in his bed and his heart.

Before any of the women could file out, he strode into the conference room. All the chitchat stopped as if someone had suddenly muted the volume on a radio. Allie’s back was to him. He tried to think of something to say, but was only able to croak out one word. “Allie.”

She swung around in her chair. He soaked her in—hair wisping in fine strands around her face, mascara a little smudged under her eyes, mouth drawn. Had she suffered at much as he had? Her eyes widened and then narrowed. “How long were you out there?”

“Long enough.”

* * *

He’d heard her entire session. Had he recognized the two of them in any of her answers? After all, it was her stupid mistakes that had inspired this particular workshop.

Cameron looked tired but as delicious as ever, clean shaven, khakis and button-down instead of his normal jeans and T-shirt, and he’d ruthlessly tamed his wild hair. Made her want to run her fingers through it and ruffle him back into
her
Cameron.

Which meant she needed, once again, to take a spoonful of her own medicine and communicate with the most important man in her life, even if the outcome wasn’t what she hoped for.

But, oh Lord, the last thing she wanted was to humiliate him in front of another group of people, even if she trusted these women implicitly. “Ladies, thanks for a great session this evening, but if you wouldn’t mind leaving us alone—”

“No, they should stay for this.” Cameron blocked the door.

In the corner, Emmalee wore a wide grin and gave her son two thumbs up.

“First, I want to apologize to you ladies.” He nodded toward her clients. “You showed loyalty and caring, not to mention creativity, in trying to help Allie save Personal Assets with your bake sale.”

Laughter waved through the room, and Suzanne said, “We’re thinking of making it a yearly tradition.”

Cameron only winced a little. Then he turned back to Allie, and his forehead was creased with lines of uncertainty. “You were right. I behaved like an idiot, plain and simple. Not just at the ball field when I arrogantly thought it was appropriate to give you thousands of dollars in front of the whole town, but got pissed when you mentioned my...uh...” he kept his focus directly on her, but a flush crept up his throat, “...penis.”

Allie’s heart expanded with hope.

“So I brought a little something with me, hoping you’ll do me the honor of making my status as a complete jackass official.” He dug in his front pocket and produced a jumbo-sized safety pin. Along with the pin, he held out the gray tail she’d so carefully duct-taped to her pin-the-tail-on-Cameron at his garage.

She leaned back and covered her mouth to try to suppress a laugh. “I’m not going to—”

“Oh, honey, yes, you are,” Suzanne insisted. “When in the world are you ever gonna get this chance again?”

Cameron pressed both items into Allie’s hand and turned around. Her clients were smiling and waving her on, so she knelt down and skimmed her fingers up the back seam of his pants. His butt muscles tightened under her touch, and the ladies whooped. When she pinched the fabric, he flinched a little.

“Worried I’m going to do more than pin the tail?”

“You have to admit this requires more than a little trust.”

“All things worth fighting for do.”

His exhale was audible even over the laughter and chatter in the room.

She slid the pin carefully through the ratty bit of gray fur and Cameron’s pants and made sure to close it securely. The tail swung there, halfway down the backs of his thighs, and Allie couldn’t hold in her laughter any longer. It welled up from her belly, from her heart. She laughed so hard she had to brace her forehead against Cameron’s legs to keep from falling over.

“All right, gals. I think it’s time we let these two finish this on their own,” Emmalee said. “You’re a good man, Cameron Kyle Wright.” She gave him a quick hug and hustled all the women out of the room.

Cameron pulled Allie to her feet, wiped the tears—of laughter and hope—from her cheeks with his thumbs. “Wanna take a drive with me?”

“This was all very noble and sweet, but we need to talk seriously about—”

“You’re driving.” He pulled out his keys and dangled them before her.

“Your truck?”

“BB.”

Relief streamed through Allie like cool, cleansing water. “You got her back.” She grabbed the keys from him and headed out the door. BB was parked in front, and Allie soaked her in. “Are you sure?”

He opened the driver’s side door and nudged her inside. “Circle the square and take a right on Main.”

When they neared the turnoff for farm-to-market road 3669 and Cameron told her to take a left, Allie had a hunch as to their destination. Sure enough, he led her to the drive-in entrance, hopped out and unlocked the gate. Her entire body warmed from her heart out. He’d gone to the trouble of asking Suzanne for the keys.

He pointed to a speaker. “Park by that one.”

The same spot they’d parked before. Allie clenched her hands around the steering wheel to keep BB steady. No way was she going to wreck this car when she had a feeling something momentous might be about to happen in it. She slid into the spot, cut the engine and blew out a breath of pure relief.

“Cameron, I—”

He held up a hand. “I promise you can say whatever you want, but will you let me get a few things out first?”

Allie sat back.

“I’m willing to try not to solve your problems.” He smiled, making those eye crinkles she loved so much. “Unless you specifically ask me to unclog the toilet.”

She wouldn’t mind handing over the plunger.

He scooted closer to her. “I want to wake up every single day with my arms wrapped around you.”

Oh, God, she wanted that too.

“I want a house, kids, dog. The whole nine yards.”

Allie’s breath clogged somewhere between her lungs and her nose.

“Although if you insist on a cat, we might have to get counseling.” He took her face in his hands. “Most of all, what I want is to love you. And I want you to love me back.”

“What happens the next time I don’t fall in line with whatever you think is best for me? When I won’t let you swat away all those pesky little problems like mosquitoes?”

“I’m not going to promise you I won’t backslide. Hell, it’s a hard habit to break. I can promise I’ll listen to you when you tell me I’m being overbearing. When I’m being a...what was it? A horse’s patootie?”

“I prefer the term
jackass.
”

“Speaking of, you wouldn’t happen to know how that picture ended up on my bay door, would you?”

Allie pressed her lips together to keep from grinning. “Bitsy was the one with the camera.”

“Uh-huh.” His own smile faded a bit, and he reached into the glove box. “I brought you something.”

He pulled out a velvet-covered box, obviously a jewelry box. Oh God, he wouldn’t have. It was too big for a ring. But her traitorous heart beat like a sprinter making the last push for the finish line.

“This is yours even if you tell me we’re over, that you never want to see me again.” Cameron flipped back the lid, and Allie struggled for breath. There, lying on a piece of ecru satin, was her mother’s emerald and diamond jewelry.

“How did you—?”

“Find it? Sometimes it’s handy having a little brother who knows people who know people.” He held it out to her. “Afford it? Well, you need to thank that antique place in Houston for selling it to a guy who likes Chevys more than emeralds. I’m giving him a damn good deal on his restoration.”

She reached for the ring, but he got there first and slipped it on her finger. The familiar weight soothed part of the ache inside her. “I can’t believe you did this.”

Cameron rubbed his hand across his eyes. “Listen, princess. I have a whole list of things I’m willing to apologize for, but this isn’t one of them. This wasn’t about solving your problem and controlling your life. I wanted you to have these back.”

She slipped her arms around his neck. “I don’t even know how to thank you.”

“That’s a pretty good start.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into the heat of his body. “I’ve missed you.”

He needed to know she felt way more than gratitude. “When we started this relationship, I thought I was looking for one thing, a way to prove myself to my clients without putting myself at risk. All bodies, no feelings. That was crazy because caring for someone involves inherent risk. You’ve taught me the reward is worth the risk, as long as you’re the reward.” She shifted back and held his face in her palms. “I love you.”