The Closer You Get (13 page)

Applause rang out, jolting Cammie back to reality and sending
her away from Brett. Clearly they’d gotten totally carried away, and she
suspected they might live to regret it.

“Hot damn, Brett,” Bull shouted. “That was some singing.”

Rusty patted Cammie’s cheek. “Gal, you were definitely
inspiring to the man here.”

Brett seemed unusually distant, not even bothering with any
comebacks to the band’s ribbing. “Can you guys leave Cammie and me alone for a
while?” he asked quietly.

“They want to be alone to take up where they left off,” Jeremy
said with an elbow in Bull’s side. “Can’t imagine why.”

After everyone left the stage, laughing and tossing out
innuendo, Cammie took a seat on the stool and waited. Brett stood without
moving, hand to chin, as if contemplating what he wanted to say. She didn’t
understand his motive for asking the boys to leave, and she didn’t care to
speculate. “What is it?”

“This is all wrong,” he said.

“What’s all wrong?”

“What we’re doing. It’s not good.”

His words pierced her confidence like verbal shards of glass.
It was going to be over before it had truly begun. She should be relieved
because she didn’t need this responsibility or relationship. They didn’t need
it. But her heart fell when she thought of what could have been, followed by an
internal indictment of her foolishness.

Cammie reached out and took both of his hands, prepared to bow
out gracefully. “You’re right, Brett. This isn’t good.”

He moved between her knees and bent to kiss the top of her
head. “I don’t think you understand what I’m saying, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? She pulled away and searched his eyes. “Yes, I
understand. You’re talking about what’s happening between us and how it’s really
gotten out of hand. I understand why—”

“I’m talking about your singing, this way of life. You’re too
good for it, Cammie.”

Now she was really confused. “You mean my singing with you
tomorrow? It’s only temporary.”

“Maybe not. You’re damn good. This might be your big break. And
it might mean you’ll be so popular with the crowd that Tim’s going to want you
to continue with us. I don’t want you to feel pressured. Or maybe I don’t want
you to be seduced by it. There’s a lot of power in performing. And a lot of
sacrifice.”

Cammie was relieved that her future warranted his concern. She
could handle that. He seemed very serious about what he’d said, but she was also
determined to do right by Pat. “Look, I’m only a temporary addition. Nothing
will come of it beyond my filling in for two performances. I’m not easily
seduced.” She felt the color rise to her face. “Not in the musical sense,
anyway.”

Brett laughed and pulled her from the chair, straight into his
strong arms. “So you can handle it, can you?”

“I can handle it.”

“What about me?”

“That remains to be seen.”

“Do you trust me, Cammie?”

She paused while she considered saying words she never believed
she’d say to any man ever again. “I do trust you, Brett. I put my voice in your
hands, at least for the time being.”

He softly kissed her. “I put my life in yours every night
you’re driving my bus. Now I can return the favor.”

He kissed her again, his lips playing passionately against
hers, his breath coming hard and heavy. Weary with relief, with desire, she
wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and fall into bed with him. But at the
moment, Pat’s welfare was number one on the list.

She ended the kiss and rested her face against his shoulder.
“Before we dissolve into the stage, I think we should go pay Pat a visit.”

“Pat and his damn timing again. But you’re right, we have to go
tell him how well it went.”

“He’ll be very pleased.”

“I’m very pleased.”

And Cammie believed nothing could ruin her good mood.

* * *

“I’
M
SORRY
,
M
R
. T
AYLOR
,
but
we’ve suspended visitors for the time being. He’s had a few setbacks this
afternoon. We’re having trouble keeping his blood pressure stable and he’s been
fairly agitated.”

The doctor’s words were body blows to Brett. Pat had done so
well that morning, no one believed they’d still be facing a crisis. “Is there
something you’re not telling us about his condition?”

The man removed his glasses and slipped them in his lab coat
pocket. “We only know that he’s had some arrhythmia, but it could be from
dehydration due to food poisoning. Or it could be his heart. We’re going to run
a few more tests and then we’ll know more. I’ll keep you posted.” Then he turned
on his heels like a drill sergeant and strode down the corridor.

After the doctor disappeared out of sight, Brett crumpled onto
the couch feeling like a deflated balloon. Cammie had gone for sandwiches,
taking Jeremy along with her. Rusty and Bull claimed the chairs across from the
sofa where they stared at various focal points throughout the room, avoiding eye
contact.

“Think we should cancel the concert, Brett?” Rusty finally
asked.

“I don’t know. I can’t think right now.”

Bull tossed a candy wrapper into a nearby wastebasket. “I’m
sure they’d understand.”

“The promoters will be royally pissed,” Rusty said. “We
could’ve told them this morning. It would’ve given them some time to find
someone else.”

But this morning Brett hadn’t known Pat could be worse off than
anyone had thought. If something happened to Pat, nothing would be the same. He
would be losing another person partially responsible for his success and
sanity.

Cammie entered a few moments later carrying a large sack of
hamburgers and fries. Brett took a whiff of the food and knew instantly he
wouldn’t be able to force one bite into his churning stomach.

“Here,” she said, handing him a paper-wrapped bundle. “One
bacon-cheeseburger, cut the onions, with mayo.”

Brett took the package and tossed it aside. “I can’t eat until
I know he’s okay.”

She sat beside him. “Have they said what’s wrong yet?”

“No. They’re running more tests to see if something’s going on
with his heart. Hopefully we’ll find out more later. In the meantime, we can’t
see him.”

She smiled and laid a hand on his arm. “He’s going to be okay.
He’s getting the care he needs and he’s tough as nails. Are sure you don’t want
anything to eat?”

“Not now.”

She dropped the sandwich back into the bag. “All right. You
know what you can manage.”

Cammie wasn’t the kind to push him to do things he didn’t feel
like doing, something Brett was beginning to appreciate. Many people, including
his manager, had taken on the role of nursemaid. If they weren’t reminding him
he needed more rest, they nagged him about getting too thin or needing a
haircut. The nights he’d joined Cammie at the helm of the bus, she’d never
scolded him about sleeping.

The thought brought a smile to his face and one to hers in
return.

“What is it now, Taylor?” she asked. “Do I have mascara under
my eyes and look like a raccoon, or maybe something’s dribbling down my
chin?”

He gently touched her cheek. Just having her there was the one
positive in this entire nightmare. “You look as pretty as you always do.”

“Thank you, Mr. Taylor. You’re certainly a good liar.” She
smiled and went back to her sandwich.

He decided to use her as a sounding board. “Bull and Rusty
think we might want to cancel the show.”

Cammie’s eyes grew wide. “No way. Pat’s counting on us. How do
you think that would make him feel if he knew we were canceling on his
account?”

“She’s right, guys,” Bull admitted.

Rusty sighed. “Yeah, she is. Pat would skin us alive if he knew
we canceled.”

Brett nodded in agreement. “Then it’s settled. Walker’s coming
in tonight.” He checked his watch. “He’ll be here by nine so we’ll have to
rehearse late. We’ll stay until then. I’ll give the hospital my cell number in
case anything changes.”

“Do you want me to stay here, Brett?” Cammie asked. “I think
I’ve done enough damage for one day.”

His first instinct was to keep her nearby for his own sake, but
that would be selfish. “Do you mind? At least until rehearsal’s over.”

“Of course not. You’ll all feel better knowing someone’s here
with him. I can rehearse again in the morning.”

Bull leaned over and laid his bulky hand on top of hers.
“You’re a real asset to this group, Cammie.”

Rusty and Jeremy did likewise, hands stacked one on top of the
other where Brett placed his on top. “Tomorrow’s for Pat,” Bull said.

“Yeah, for Pat,” Brett repeated, silently hoping Pat would make
another tomorrow.

* * *

A
T
2:00
A
.
M
., B
RETT
came for her. Cammie felt as though she’d been
put through the wringer, her body longing for sleep in a real bed. Brett spoke
with the doctor before leading her out of the hospital and into the warm night.
At least the news had been favorable—Pat was doing better, although the test
results had yet to be revealed.

He stopped and placed his arms around her when they reached the
Hummer he’d rented for the duration. “It’s nice out here,” he said with a sigh.
“You know what I’d like to do?”

“Pass out?”

“Take you to some remote place in the desert with no
distractions or interruptions where we could just be together all night.”

She wasn’t exactly sure how she should respond, even if she did
like the plan. A lot. “That sounds wonderful, but honestly, with Pat’s issues,
and the fact we’re sleep-deprived, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Brett tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’re right. We have to
stay close by in case Pat needs us, and you definitely need some sleep.”

“I could probably sleep right here, right now, in the parking
lot. But you need to rest, too. You still have back-to-back shows tomorrow
night.”

“True,” he said. “But if you need me for anything during the
night, I’m just a room away.”

Sometimes she believed she was beginning to need him too
much.

* * *

A
FTER
THEY
ARRIVED
at
the hotel room, Cammie and Brett parted at their appointed rooms without even a
brief kiss, only a polite goodbye. She chalked up Brett’s sudden distance to
fatigue. She wanted to try out the jetted tub but took a hot shower instead.
Then she quickly dried her hair, dressed in a plain cotton gown and settled into
bed. But try as she might, she could only toss and turn and contemplate her
complicated relationship with the sometimes-mysterious man on the other side of
the door.

She rolled to her side, fluffed the pillow and attempted to
coax herself asleep by reciting the lyrics she had to remember tomorrow night.
By the time she made it to the second song, she began to drift off, only to be
awakened by the sound of an opening door.

She remained still as stone when she felt the mattress bend
beside her. “Cammie?”

She rolled over to find Brett seated on the edge of the bed,
his features unclear in the limited light, but she could see he was shirtless.
“Yes?”

“Did I wake you up?”

“No.” One more minute and he would have. “Is something
wrong?”

“I can’t sleep. I’m having a hard time shutting off my
brain.”

“I know what you mean.”

“I was just wondering if you mind if I sleep in here with you.
Just to sleep. I don’t expect anything else.”

He sounded so unsure, she couldn’t help but smile. “Can you
really do that, Brett? Sleep with a woman without wanting to
sleep
with her in the figurative sense?”

“It’s been a long time, but I’m willing to try if you are,” he
said. “I’ll stay on my side of the bed.”

When cows sprouted wings. “I guess since it’s a king, it’s big
enough for both of us.”

“Are you sure?”

She flipped back the covers and patted the mattress. “Climb in
before I change my mind.”

“I can’t sleep in my jeans.”

She might not sleep at all if he wasn’t wearing them. “Then
take them off.”

After he complied, Cammie rolled away from him again and tried
to ignore the fact he was basically down to the bare minimum when it came to
clothes. Although she’d only had a few hours’ sleep in the past forty-eight, she
would gladly make love with him all night. Instead, she decided to put him—and
herself—to the ultimate test.

“Brett.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to stay on your side of the bed. I wouldn’t
mind having you a little closer.”

“Not a problem.” He fitted himself to her back and draped his
arm over her hip, his bare legs molded to the backs of her thighs. Having him so
near gave her an odd sense of comfort, and a deep-seated longing.

If they could make it through one night without giving in to
temptation, then maybe chemistry wasn’t their only common ground. However, she’d
wager her last dollar that one of them wouldn’t last more than a few hours, and
it could very well be her.

CHAPTER NINE

B
Y
THE
TIME
THIS
WAS
OVER
, he’d deserve
some kind of a medal of honor for uncommon valor in the face of temptation.

As Brett continued to hold her through the night, Cammie’s
breathing came steady and slow, while his sounded like he’d just run a marathon.
He’d been so exhausted he’d mistakenly thought that once he’d found the right
position with her in his arms, he’d pass out. Not a chance.

Every time Cammie moved against him, his body sprang to life.
Her hair smelled great, and so did her skin, like his mother’s favorite
gardenias. He tried counting concert dates and his number-one songs, and when
that didn’t work he tried counting all the reasons why he was no good for a
woman like Cammie. Why he shouldn’t even consider making love to her.

Hell, who was he trying to fool? He wanted to sleep with her in
every sense of the word. He wanted to touch and taste every inch of her, all the
soft satiny feminine parts. He’d already sampled some of the finer points. Now
he wanted more. He wanted it all.

But he’d be damned if he made the first move after all their
talk about trust. So he found a semicomfortable position, gave her a gentle
squeeze and closed his eyes....

He came awake to kisses on his neck and fingertips trailing
over his side. He slowly opened his eyes to find Cammie curled against his
chest, soft and warm and obviously willing. He figured it was some sleep-induced
response, but when she lifted her face and grazed his lips with hers, he wasn’t
so sure. “Cammie, are you awake?”

“Very.” She rubbed her sweet little body against his and nearly
sent him over the edge. “Apparently so are you.”

Oh, yeah, he was. Cocked and loaded and ready to fire. He’d be
playing with fire if he kept going since the one missing item that had
previously halted their lovemaking could end it now. He’d just make this all
about her for the moment and worry about the damn condoms later.

He began by kissing her slowly, deliberately, just a light
exploration before he turned up the heat. She responded by leisurely rubbing her
hands down his back and working her way to his butt.

This was the way it should be. Not some hurried act performed
with the sole intent of sexual gratification. He cared a hell of a lot for the
woman in his arms, something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. The
realization was unexpected, but he’d have to take it out and examine it later.
He had more important things to consider at the moment, namely making her feel
real good.

Brett took the hem of Cammie’s gown, pulled it up over her head
and tossed it away, leaving not a whole lot left between them except a pair of
her skimpy panties and his boxer shorts. Just a lot of bare flesh that he
intended to take his time exploring, beginning with her breasts. Cammie had
other ideas. That became clear when she guided his palm to her belly, right
above the thin lace band. Suddenly nothing seemed more important than pleasing
her, even if it meant skipping a few steps.

He slid his hand beneath her panties and discovered she was
soft and warm and wet. He began to gently tease and stroke her, inside and out,
intending to bring her to the brink until she couldn’t take it anymore. But he’d
barely implemented the plan before she went off like a rocket.

She buried her face into his neck and muttered, “I’m sorry.”
She sounded innocent and apprehensive and maybe even guilty.

He brushed her hair back from her face and tipped her chin up,
encouraging her to look at him. “Why are you sorry?”

“I just didn’t expect that kind of reaction.”

He kind of liked her reaction. “I’m hoping it meant I was doing
something right.”

She sent him a shaky smile. “Oh, yes. You could say that. Maybe
even too right.”

No such thing, in his opinion. Something else was going on with
her, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. “Are you having second
thoughts?”

“No. I’m just overwhelmed.”

Overwhelmed? He’d barely touched her. “Are you worried about
where we go from here?”

“I’m worried about what you’re going to say when I tell you
something I should’ve told you before now.”

He was almost afraid to ask. “What is it?”

“I’ve never made love with anyone.”

He couldn’t have been more stunned if the entire hotel staff
had walked in on them. “No one?”

“No one.”

The concept was unbelievable. Cammie was beautiful, sensuous,
desirable―all the things that men instantly found attractive. And for some
reason he was the first man she’d allowed to get this close to her. The thought
of being her first disturbed him.

“How is that possible?” The only thing he could manage at the
moment.

“If you mean
why
did I save my
virtue, it wasn’t exactly planned. I spent so much time around men at the
business, I thought guys were all the same―crude and interested in only one
thing. Not to mention my grandfather and Bud were like a couple of mother hens.
And then there was that little prom-night incident.”

This he had to hear. “Prom night?”

After covering up to her chin, she leaned over and snapped on
the bedside lamp. “I know what you’re thinking—Cammie is a living cliché—and
you’re right. It’s that age-old story of studious girl goes to the senior prom
with popular boy, minus the unplanned pregnancy. I thought, Everyone else is
doing it, so why not? Let’s just say Rocky had been drinking and he passed out
before we got to the ‘doing it’ part.”

He tried to stifle a laugh, without success. “His name was
Rocky?”

She frowned. “Yes, and he was about as bright as a briefcase,
and a liar to boot. He was so mortified over what he’d done that he told
everyone in school that we did do the deed. I spent the two weeks until
graduation trying to live it down.”

“Rocky was an idiot.”

“Yes, and a few years later, I met Mark, who had many of those
same qualifications, and we know how wonderful that turned out to be. I didn’t
feel I was ready to take the next step until now.”

Until now
. Brett rolled onto his
back. “Damn, Cammie, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“So sorry I forgot to pack my I’m a Virgin button along with
the condoms and the zebra panties.”

He took her hand into his. “I’m sorry I acted so shocked. I
mean, hell, it’s not that common. Not anymore.”

“Is this going to make a difference where we’re concerned? If
it is, I want you to leave.”

Should he leave? He sure as hell didn’t want to leave. He
wanted her more than anything he’d wanted in a long time. “No way.”

“Then where do we go from here?”

“Right where we left off.”

He brought her back into his arms and kissed her again. He
didn’t know what would happen and right then he didn’t care. He knew he might
regret the decision. Like Pat had said, Cammie was special and he didn’t want to
hurt her. But they were good together. Destined to be even better.

When Cammie went for the waistband on his boxer-briefs, he
caught her wrist. “If you go anywhere near Joe right now, it might be all over
before we get started.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You named it Joe?”

“Yeah. Joe knows how to please a woman.”

“That’s rather cocky,” she said, then added, “No pun
intended.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. Loud enough to cause Cammie to slap
her hand over his mouth. “You’re going to wake everyone up.”

She had a point, and so did he. “You’re right. I don’t want to
run into anyone when I go get the condoms.”

Cammie let out an exasperated breath. “Next time, please tie
the things around your neck.”

He liked that “next time” thing. “You got it.”

“Maybe I should go get it.”

He kissed her chin and climbed out of bed. “You think I’d send
you into a room full of barracudas to retrieve condoms?”

She pretended to pout. “You’re not going to disappear and not
come back?”

“Not a chance.” Not this time, come hell or high water.

* * *

S
HE
’
D
ALWAYS
KNOWN
that if she took that final step, it would have to
be with someone special. At one time she was willing to give herself to Mark.
She’d made a mistake in thinking he was the right one. Maybe she’d made the same
mistake by choosing Brett.

To heck with her doubts, she was sick of them. More than
anything, she wanted Brett to make love to her. She was beyond the childish
dreams of forever. She needed to discover what it felt like to be a woman, not
the faithful granddaughter or someone’s surrogate sister or just one of the
guys.

He should be back by now. Maybe he’d reconsidered. Maybe she
should have let him find out after the fact instead of confessing her
inexperience. No. Honesty was the best policy no matter what happened from this
point forward.

She sat up when she heard the phone, then the voices. The crew
was up and about. Cammie plopped back onto the bed and with a frustrated yank
pulled the sheet over her face. Someone was trying to tell her something, and
she suspected it was that bitch named Karma.

Brett opened the door and asked, “Are you dressed?”

Cammie laughed and removed the covers from her face. “What do
you think?”

He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her sheet-covered leg.
“The boys are up and the hospital called.”

Fear grabbed her and wouldn’t let go. “Pat?”

“Good news. He’s asking for us. As a matter of fact, he’s
giving the nurses hell.”

“Thank goodness,” Cammie said. “Guess this means we have to get
ready to go.”

“Guess it does.” He leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss.
“After the show tonight, we’ll have the whole night to spend together.
Alone.”

“Promise?”

“Lady, I guarantee it.” He took her hand. “But I can’t
guarantee I’ll do my best tonight when you’re all I’ll be thinking about.”

Cammie smiled. “Just think of something else.” When she sat up
and placed a kiss on the charming cleft in his chin, the sheet slipped down,
revealing her bare breasts.

Brett hopped off the bed like he’d been shot. “Cover yourself,
woman. Otherwise, I’m calling Pat and telling him he’s going to have to
wait.”

* * *

“I’
VE
HEARD
I’
VE
BEEN
REPLACED
,” Pat said through a weak
smile.

Cammie realized he might look gaunt and tired, but he was still
as feisty as ever. “No one could ever replace you,” she said. “But I am singing
on key most the time.”

Brett placed his hands on her shoulders. “She’s doing better
than that. She’s got me singing on key.”

“Praise be!” Pat said with more energy than she’d expected.

“So what’s the verdict on your condition?” Brett asked.

Pat rubbed his stubbly chin. “Well, I ate some bad food, but my
liver’s good, which means I gave up the whiskey none too soon. And my
cholesterol’s a bit high. Other than that, I’ll live.”

Cammie worried he wasn’t being completely truthful. “And your
heart?”

“I’ve got a little bit of blockage,” he said. “The doc told me
I need to see a cardiologist when I get back home.”

Brett frowned. “That’s still a couple months away. Are you sure
you’re cleared to travel?”

“Yep.” He turned his attention to Brett. “Do you mind stepping
out, son, so I can give this gal here a few words of encouragement?”

Brett pointed at him. “That better be all you’re intending to
do. We don’t want you to have another setback.”

When Brett backed out of the room, Cammie claimed a seat on the
edge of the bed. “What do you really want to tell me?”

Pat took her hand and looked at her seriously. “Something’s
going on between you and Brett. Something more than singing.”

The truth came alive in Pat’s words, catching Cammie off guard.
Pat was an honest man, and very perceptive, so she didn’t dare lie. “I suppose
you could say that.”

“Some advice then. Brett’s a hard one to figure. I love him
like a son, but that don’t mean I always understand him. All I want to say—at
the risk of sounding like your dad―is be careful. Brett has a lot more to give
than he realizes. It’s going to take someone real special to convince him of
that. But don’t let him hurt you in the process.”

Pat echoed the conflicting thoughts she’d been having for the
past few days. Brett could hurt her and she knew it. She also knew how happy
he’d made her in the brief time they’d been together. “I’m a tough girl, Pat.
I’m not sure what it is that Brett and I feel for each other―or will feel. I
only know that he needs me right now. I’m prepared for whatever happens.”

“Good,” he said, patting her hand. “Now you go knock ’em dead
tonight and remember I’ll be with you in spirit.”

Cammie gave him a hug. “See you later. And stop giving the
nurses grief.”

Pat laid a hand on his heart. “You really know how to spoil an
old codger’s good time.”

She left his room, taking with her his sage wisdom and kind
smile, exactly what she would remember tonight before she took the stage. And
she had little time to prepare for the first 6:00 p.m. performance. Very little
time to make certain she looked her best.

* * *

C
AMMIE
HAD
LEFT
REHEARSAL
, caught a cab to the mall
on the strip and went on a frantic search for just the right look. She was now
dressed in a new pair of dark-wash jeans and a black silky sleeveless top with a
little silver embellishment right above her cleavage, which was a bit more
exposed than she would’ve liked. She’d also chosen a pair of platform shoes so
she wouldn’t seem quite as short.