Page 5 of All Mine

“Surely you have some interest in where it takes you, right?” Could I do a one-night stand? He would certainly be the prime candidate.

Camden laughed. “Yeah, but I’m flexible.”

“You don’t strike me as the flexible type Camden Carter.”

“What type do I strike you as?”

My answer could go a couple of different ways. I roll the glass between my palms, then use the straw to stir the chunk of ice left at the bottom. Boaters come into the bakery all day with their self-important narrow worldview and think they can treat us like servants. But Camden stopped me from falling on my face, so possibly he’s not that bad. Well, that and those biceps were distracting.

“You’re a Type-A personality—always planning, working, and on the go. And you’re very impatient when things don’t go to plan.”

He leaned in close. “I’m used to getting what I want, I’ll give you that, but I have patience when it suits me.”

His fingers grazed my arm, and a zing of awareness zipped through me straight to my nether region at his touch. I shook it off. Damn, I shouldn’t play with this dude. He’s a cheesy douche, but what else was I expecting?

“So it suits you to be flexible tonight?” I asked.

“I think it’s important.”

A laugh escaped. Who was this guy? Was he confident or crazy? Definitely sexy. And he knew it.

“What’s so funny?” He grinned, and his features morphed from dark and brooding into amiable. But it didn’t fool me. He was a bit too much like my ex, and he was working to break down my barriers, which was probably why I shouldn’t sleep with him. Ultimately, I’m not a one-night stand with a stranger kind of woman. But I also don’t want another relationship, either. And those two truths created a paradox in my existence. My vagina resigned herself to another night with my vibrator.

“Are you serious right now?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I just came in for a look around, and a lovely lady fell right into my arms. If that’s not a reason to see where the evening takes us, I don’t know what is.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. If Camden thought I was just some ignorant hick who couldn’t see right through him, think again, buddy.

“Sometimes tripping over a chair is just that and nothing more. And my evening takes me back to my bakery for cleanup.” Taking the last sip from my drink, I slid from the barstool. “Goodnight, Camden,” I said and strolled across the bar before he could respond.

“Check, please,” Camden called out. But, two things were certain, Finn and Adrian kept tabs on me, and they’d never let him follow. But would Camden try to follow me, anyway? Sometimes their protectiveness was annoying. At other times, I appreciated it, like tonight. It wouldn’t take much for him to break my resolve, but I needed to steer clear of this Camden Carter.

Three

Camden

Lauren’s cute little ass sashayed across the room and out the door. And I could only watch her go since no one would bring me the damn check. If I tossed cash onto the bar and tried to leave, I bet they’d stop me. That Finn guy made it clear that she was off-limits for me. Did he have a thing for her? Probably. But, if they weren’t an item, then she was fair game. The prick.

“Check, please,” I called again, tapping my fingers against the woodgrain bar. Sure, Lauren owned the bakery on the land I needed to buy, and she might take some issue with that. But with the state the landlord had left those buildings in, she might welcome the change. At any rate, I could handle the Cupcake Princess. She was just a small-town baker, after all.

It was the unease over my mystery client that bothered me. I was going through the longest dry-spell in company history, so I pushed aside the gnawing in the pit of my stomach and made the deal. But the land wasn’t even up for sale.

“In a minute,” Finn called, pouring someone else a pint.

The place had filled with people, some of them off the boat for the day, still in swimwear cover-ups. It was an odd mix of dress styles. And for me, still way too cold for swimming. Surrounded by drinking and boisterous conversations, I wish Lauren had stayed. Talking to her took the monotony out of my day. I spent my life moving from town to town, conducting business, and never forming any attachments. My life was great. Would she return? If not, maybe there was someone else here I could entertain myself with. A band warmed up on an unseen stage outside. How’d I miss that?

I slid from the barstool and thumbed through my wallet, tossing some cash on the bar.

“Hey, wait a sec,” Finn yelled.

“Relax, I’m just going to watch the band.”

The wood plank stage was low to the ground in a grassy spot to the right outside the building. I’d overlooked the nondescript structure my first time through. As I crossed the bridge onto the walkway, the band began playing a country music cover. There wasn’t an open seat near the stage. So, I wandered over to the outdoor Tiki Hut and grabbed a seat at the bar. Several older men with thin hair and potbellies occupied most of the stools. The Tiki Hut wasn’t the hip place to be at the moment, but the evening was still young. The sun hung barely above the horizon in the spring sky. Longer days meant plenty of opportunities left.

I signaled the bartender, a woman somewhere in her early thirties with a pixie haircut and a gold hoop nose ring, and ordered a beer. Unlike the others working here, she wore a plain black tank top that accentuated her assets that landed on the bar in front of me as she bent to take my order. No doubt this increased her tips from the clientele out here.

The breeze came in off the lake and whipped cooler temperatures through the outdoor seating area. For a while, I nursed another beer, listened to the band, and observed people milling about. The other men at the bar next to me talked of fishing.

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