Page 89 of Be Mine Forever

“Keep telling me.” Jo slid her hand into his hair, scraping her nails across his scalp. “We can do this. Just let me help.”

Cam looked at her, neither confirming nor denying. He led her to the bathroom. In the shower, he didn’t leave an inch of her unattended. The last traces of the blue paint slid off her skin and down the drain. Jo wanted to chase the color. She wanted to wear his love as a stain over her skin, over her heart.

“Are you cold?” Cam asked, going to the drawers he’d cleared for the nightgowns she never wore.

“No, I don’t want anything between us.” She ran her eyes over the sculpted lines of his lean body. “Just us.”

He nodded, pulling back the covers and climbing in, opening his arms. She snuggled close, relishing the feel of his warm flesh. She placed her hand over his heart.

“Is this still mine? Is your heart still in my hands?”

“Don’t doubt it.” They’d turned off the lamps, and he left it to the moon to show her the truth on his face. “No matter what happens, promise me you won’t doubt it.”

She tried to stay awake, not wanting to lose a minute with him and afraid the demons in his dreams would return. She fought fatigue as long as she could, waiting for his breath to even into sleep. It never did, but she fell asleep in his arms, and she felt safe.

Chapter Thirty

Sometimes the heart knows first. Before the mind can formulate thoughts or the senses grasp, the heart immediately apprehends. A senseless intuition. Jo woke up the next morning with an ache in her chest. It wasn’t unusual to wake up alone. If anything, waking up with Cam hard and warm at her back was rare. This felt different. An electric storm crackled around Cam. His energy, sometimes dark and sometimes bright, but always inexorable, drew you in. They had magnetized each other, and when she awoke, she knew something was missing. Someone was missing.

She took her time sitting up in bed, her senses poking around in the quiet of the cottage for any signs of him. Cam was often painting by the time she woke up, so she slipped on her robe and padded barefoot to the studio. No sign of him. Sometimes he’d catch the sunrise by the river, taking photos he’d use later. Jo headed out to the patio, eyeing the patch of riverbank Cam usually claimed, but it stood empty. Even in his artistic throes, he would always have a pot of coffee brewed for her by the time she woke up, but no aroma drifted from the kitchen.

The October mornings were just getting cool, but a slow freeze started in Jo’s belly and circulated through her veins, sludging toward her heart. She stepped into the kitchen like it was a cemetery, heart heavy, feet tentative. Almost immediately she spotted the folded note propped against the coffeepot. With shaking hands she opened it, and with panic suffusing every cell, she read.

Jo,

You know I have to go. I’m haunted by a dead man in my dreams every night, but he’s not my greatest fear. My greatest fear is hurting you. Last night was too close. I know you trust me, but I don’t trust myself with you right now. Not after what happened. I won’t risk you. This isn’t up for debate or negotiation, because you’re better at both of those than I am. You’ve wanted me to talk to someone, to get help—well, you’re getting your wish. I’ve never wanted to talk about what happened, but if there’s a chance it will help me make some kind of peace, I’ll do it. And it may not feel like it right now, but I love you too much to stay.

I don’t know how long it will be before I come back, but I hope when I do, I’ll be better. I hope when I do, you’re still here. If I were selfless, I’d tell you not to wait for me. But I’m not selfless, and I’m telling you that if you move on, it will gut me. I know you’ve waited years. Can you give me a little more time? I want to love you in the light, without the shadow of a monster hovering over us. Let me do this.

Don’t doubt my love.

Cam

The paper fluttered to the floor, falling from Jo’s numb fingers. For a moment, she felt unmoored. Uncertain, but then her natural instincts kicked in. He wasn’t thinking clearly. He thought this was best, but he was wrong. She would track him down and convince him. Jo was already plotting her next steps. Bennett Enterprises had a private investigator on retainer. She’d call Walsh and check all the flights. If Cam had left the country, he would have used his passport. That was a red flag she could track right away. She had pulled on yoga pants and her Duke sweatshirt, ready to start the manhunt when the doorbell rang. Maybe it was the cleaning lady.

“Daddy?” Jo stepped back, pulling the door open wider and pushing her surprise aside. “Come on in.”

Her father stepped into the living room, dressed casually in one of his Harvard sweatshirts and jeans.

“I didn’t even know you were in town.” She pointed a thumb toward the kitchen. “Want some coffee?”

“I just got in from Boston an hour ago.” Her father settled onto the leather couch, leaning his elbows on his knees and glancing up at her. “I flew back early to check on you.”

“On me? Why would you…?”

That dirty, rotten, low-down lover of hers.

“Cam called you, didn’t he?” Jo perched on the arm of the nearby love seat. “He told you he’s gone.”

“He told me everything, Jo.” Concern weighted her father’s brows. “He asked me to make sure you don’t try to find him.”

“Of course I’ll find him.” Jo bounced her foot, so ready to be done with this and under way. “Can we talk about this later, Daddy? I need to get on this.”

“You will not.” Jo had heard that kind of iron in her father’s voice before, but rarely directed at her.

Jo stood up and placed her hands on her hips, a stance the men in her family knew meant not to mess with her.

“You said yourself I’m a grown woman.”

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