Page 9 of Knotted Laces

What the actual fuck?

I nearly bite my fingers off again.

The cookie in my mouth turns to sawdust.

Was I actually thinking about little Cam Jackson like?—

My stomach starts churning.

Nope. Cam is littleCam. Abjectly handsome and good-looking like all the Jacksons, but definitely not sexy, definitely not in possession of a gorgeous ass I get a glimpse of as he wrestles with Lex?—

Holy hell.

His ass is just an ass.

That’s it.

And that’s why I turn away from the sight of the youngest Jackson, searching out my coat and purse—it’s just an ass. One that has no effect on me.

Nope.

No effect whatsoever.

“You okay, honey?”

I still, my arms halfway into my jacket, and look up at the only woman who’s ever called mehoney.“Yeah, Martha,” I tell her. “I just have an early morning tomorrow.”

“Early morning on vacation?”

I still at the voice that trails like fingers down my spine and turn to see Cam, looking a little disheveled from his scuffle with his brothers, but whole as he strides toward us. His smile is sexy and confident and?—

Stop.

“Early morning at work,” I quietly correct. “Not vacation.”

His brows drag together. “Work?” He glances over his shoulder at Lex. “Are you guys working a case?”

“Didn’t I tell you, baby?” Martha says, moving toward him and looping her arm around his waist. “Ats”—because Martha always calls me by my nickname of choice, becauseof courseshe does—“transferred to the Oakland office a couple of months ago.”

Now his brows shoot up. “Months?”

I don’t miss the hint of accusation in his tone or in his gorgeous Jackson-hazel eyes—nor the confusion because if anyone else in this family I’ve been folded into had moved to the same city as the team he plays for, he would know about it.

But…I’m me.

I keep my distance. It’s the only way I know how to live.

“I’m just now getting settled in,” I prevaricate, trying to shove down another blip of guilt. “I had a case I was wrapping up that required a lot of travel and then the move and?—”

The accusation doesn’t disappear like I hope.

In fact, it seems to grow.

As does the guilt.

You’ll never be part of them. Not really.

The voice in my mind slices deep and it takes everything in me to not close my eyes, to not hold myself still, to not waituntil the pain fades. Instead, I just keep my shields in place and press on. “I’m settled in now, though, so the timing worked out perfectly when your mom invited me to watch the game and surprise you tonight. I got to see you play some hockey in person—which was impressive by the way—andI got baked goods. Win-win.”

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