Page 8 of Unstoppable Love

It was gorgeous, at the top of a hill. The infinity pool and backyard faced west, and he had the most glorious view of the mountains.

I didn’t spend time enjoying it.

I went out to my Honda Civic and hauled my suitcases upstairs to the first guest bedroom I came across, then went back to my car and grabbed the box I’d carried out of Kip’s apartment. It held the last of my cold food items and two bottles of wine. After unloading everything into his refrigerator and tossing the box into the garage to deal with later, I opened one of the bottles of wine.

I spent the night in the living room, drinking my wine, staring at a blank television screen larger than any I’d ever seen outside a movie theater, and I did it, swearing that starting tomorrow, I was truly moving on from Cameron Kelley.

I had to, before I destroyed everything good in my life and the rest of me with it.

In the morning, I woke up on the same couch, with a throbbing headache, a dead cell phone, and Cameron Kelley standing over me, hands on his hips, glaring.

“What the hell are you doing here, Sunshine?”

Chapter 3

Cameron

Ava Decker was still the prettiest girl I’d ever laid eyes on. The fact she wasn’t a girl anymore, but a woman, hadn’t escaped my notice over the years either. She was no longer that pretty girl, but she was all woman. With breasts that had grown since that night and legs that had turned even more shapely while still being toned. Her hair was longer, brighter even. She was still that woman who’d bake cupcakes with her mom, ride a horse, and work a farm, and then during the week she’d kick ass at her job doing social media stuff. It might not have been the most incredible job, but every time her name came up around her family they made it clear how proud they were of her.

Yeah, she’d grown a lot since she was sixteen and I broke her heart. Caused a pain so deep inside of her that I knew I’d done my job.

I’d been an ass about it, but I’d done it, but what I didn’t know then was that it’d mark her that deep. So deep that all these years later, she still couldn’t be in my presence for longer than thirty seconds without screaming at me.

Maybe that was my fault for acting like I never knew what we’d done. What she’d given me. But enough time had gone by, and I wasn’t sure the right thing to do was to tell her either. So she branded me the asshole who didn’t care about her, and I played my role to perfection.

None of that explained why I walked into my house after taking the red-eye back from Miami after fleeing a storm headed straight to where I was golfing in Barbados, only to find her passed out on my couch, wearing nothing more than a tank and shorts and a blanket she’d had to find from some closet with an empty bottle of wine in front of her and a half-filled glass.

But there she was, eyes flickering open, a soft smile on her face. And in three… two… one…

“What the hell are you doing here, Cameron?”

She jumped off the couch and grabbed the blanket like I hadn’t already had a peek at what she had beneath it. I’d do it again, too. I’d long since taken to perfecting my asshole role around her, and that was definitely something an asshole would do.

The only thing I regretted about it was the fact I’d had to go to the bathroom, take a shower, and take care of me before I calmed down enough to come back and wake her up.

The pain I was so used to seeing on her face evaporated as she fought it back.

I smirked and rocked on my heels. “It’s my house, Sunshine.”

She leaned in, a storm brewing in those bright blue eyes, and hissed, “Don’t call me that. I’m not that. Not to you.”

God, I hated that I hurt her. Hurt her so bad that all these years later this was the only way she looked at me, but damn, she was sexy all fired up, too. So damn sexy sometimes it took massive efforts not to throw her over my shoulder, smack her plump and perfect ass, and haul her off to any flat surface—either vertical or horizontal.

Massive efforts like it was taking right now because, despite the fact I’d just gotten off to thoughts of her, I was already fighting going hard again. She drove me insane. All that panted breath, her heaving chest.

“You weren’t supposed to be here. You’re supposed to be in the Caribbean.”

“Storm coming. Took the last plane out. Now tell me why you’re here.”

“Isaiah said—” Her mouth clamped shut, and her lips pressed together. She turned her head, stared out my back windows, working her jaw before she cursed. “Isaiah never asked you if I could stay here, did he?”

Hell no. And also, “Why do you need a place to stay?”

She was living with Kip Jones. The most boring man on the planet. The kind of guy who didn’t know the difference between a flathead and a Phillips screwdriver. They’d also been together for three years and had lived together for over one.

“Did he hurt you?” I asked. “I’ll kill him.”

Her eyes narrowed on me all over again. “You don’t get to do anything to him. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find another place to stay because my brother’s a complete moron.”

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