“What’s up?” he asked when Fontana reached them.
What’s up?What was he, in high school?
Her eyes sparked, the tiny gold pinpricks at the outer edges glittering. A delicate gust carried the scent of honeysuckle his way, scrambling his plan to escape this confrontation unscathed. “Oh, you know,nothing special.”
He exhaled, raking his fingers through his hair.Yep. Mad as hell.
Jessica chose that moment to step into the fray, because women, after all, were sadistic creatures. “Jessica Waters,” she said, thrusting out a hand, “a friend of Campbell’s.”
Fontana’s expression was as pointed as barbed wire when it swung away from him. “Fontana Quinn. Campbell’s…tenant.”
Tenant? he mouthed to her.
The conversation between the women was brief and almost painless. As he’d told Fontana more than once, Jessica wasn’t in this for a fight. She cared more about her nude pumps than she did about him. Excusing herself to find Dix—who’d thought it was a good idea to invite an Atlanta gallery owner to Promise in the first place, the jerk—she left them standing in awkward silence.
They stared for a full minute, locked in battle, the silence so charged he was afraid it would shatter the afternoon into a million pieces. Two stubborn fools did not make for an easy relationship.
“Are you testing yourself, Cam? Is that it?”
Not about to go there, he wedged his shoulder against the column, crossing one boot over the other in a move he hoped looked relaxed, even as his stomach knotted. “Does this seem like a test?”
She pressed her lips together and looked toward the cottage;hercottage, he’d come to think of it. No longer his mother’s studio, and there was some peace in that.
Alotof peace in that.
When her gaze traveled back to him, it was filled with hard purpose, and a sizzle of dread curled in his belly. “I’m not suited to your world. Maybe my dreams are simple, but Promise is enough for me. Landscaping, the children’s center, Jaime, Hannah. Your dreams are larger than life. Grand. Irespect that, I do. And you need”—she gestured to the house, to Jessica—“well, not me. I can’t be someone I’m not. I refuse to after finally finding myself again. And I guess, if I’m honest, in the bargain only accepting a small part of you.”
He shoved off the cool marble so swiftly she took a stumbling step back. “Who said anything about the part you own beingsmall?”
“So I own something, do I?” She stalked him, closing the space until their knees brushed, until her gaze crisped his blood and his thoughts. The urge to kiss her gripped him but he forced it back. Dragging her to his bedroom wasn’t going to repair the foundation crumbling beneath them. “Are you leaving? Taking Kit and John Nelson with you? I know I’m insane because I keep asking thesame damn question.”
Swallowing, he pressed his back against the column, suddenly craving distance. “Fon?—”
She cut him off. “You are. No change in plans.”
She was grinding him down, smoothing his rough edges, uncovering things he didn’t want exposed. Getting angry wasn’t going to help him think clearly, but the emotion pulsed beneath his skin. Hot and getting hotter.
He was so fucking distracted lately, trying to imagine what life would be like without her—what he had to give up to keep her. What he wanted versus what heneeded. How to quit running when running was all he knew. How to take care of everyone and keep the balls in the air. “Can you slow down a sec, Hellcat? I want to talk to you, but you’re pissed off, and I’m getting there pretty quickly myself.”
“I know why you want to sell me the art studio. Soothing of the soul, less guilt when you leave.” Her lips parted like she might say more, but instead, she bit the inside of her cheek and squared her shoulders. “Congratulations, I’ve decided to accept your offer. Because I love the house, and the land, and if you’re going to flush your heritage down the toiletanyway, I want it. It’s my home, and I suppose that’s more than you can say about anything.”
“Fon,” he whispered, trying to draw her out of this.
She lifted her chin, eyes flashing. “Go.Run. Back to ‘Nothing Special’. And the next. And so on.”
Campbell grasped her shoulders and shook her, gently, but with fury driving it. Her hair fluttered, bringing to mind the mahogany spill over his sheets, his skin. “You don’t understand what I’d have to give up, goddammit. What’d I have to allow back in!”
Yanking her hair from her eyes, Fontana caught his gaze. He expected to see fear. After what her father had done to her, how could he touch her like this and get anything else?
His stomach sank. He was pushing her away, feet at a time, and he knew it.
Yet, it wasn’t panic hardening her features, it was courage.
“What you’d have to give up?” She frowned, and he saw the moment understanding hit, a realization he feared he’d led her to. “A relationship is only as good as what you put into it. And you’re not sure this one is worth it.” She crossed her arms over her chest, a defensive move that lifted her breasts. And because he was weak, his mind went straight to her nipples. How much he loved them, how he was working himself into a corner where she’d never let him touch them again. “Interesting.”
“You’re mixing this?—”
“No, Campbell, I’m actually quite clear. The pieces are falling solidly into place. Don’t ruin everything by pushing us where we can’t go.”
