Tiny Dancer(Divine Creek Ranch 13)(7)

Quinten’s heart lurched as he imagined all the ways she could react. It made him heartsick to think she might reject them. Maybe her standing rule that business was business and pleasure was pleasure had really been her way of saying she felt nothing but friendship for them. He had a hunch that her feelings ran deeper than that, though, and it was high time they had a talk with her about it.

Two years of playacting has worn me out. If she didn’t want them as much as they wanted her, it was really going to hurt. He needed to know one way or the other.

He felt angry and out of control that those men could just walk back into her life and so easily capture all her attention.

“Get a grip. You’re just jealous,” he whispered to himself as he applied the paint roller to the wall. “You’re overreacting. Camilla is approachable. And likeable. And sweet. And fucking hot as hell. Shit! Shut up!” Pale ivory paint sloshed onto the plastic drop cloth as he refilled the roller pan.

Two hours later, he heard the front door open and close. Ben joined him a few minutes later, barefoot and dressed in faded jeans and an old T-shirt.

“Gimme a damned roller.”

Quinten grunted. “I take it you met the Wonder Triplets? They still there?”

“Fuck no. I wouldn’t leave until I was sure they were gone. Freaking huge bears making goo-goo eyes at her. I’m calling Wes Garner in the morning and asking if there’s any way we can get the furniture sooner.”

“Welcome to my world. Misery loves company.” He handed him a brush and pointed at the trim.



* * * *



The following night, Ben refilled Beck O’Malley’s pilsner glass at the beer tap and slid it back in front of him. Beck nodded his thanks and went back to his political conversation with Patrick Owen.

Ben had noticed a marked change in Beck over the last few months since the woman he loved, Chloe Rhodes, had moved on. He looked older, and his hair had grown out. If he didn’t shave soon, he was going to look like the member of a ZZ Top cover band. He looked sadder, too, which showed in his tired eyes.

Camilla zipped behind the bar, past Ben, and stowed her purse and coat in his office then came back. Her delicate scent, a mixture of vanilla and some sort of fruit, lingered deliciously in the air. He couldn’t help but smile when she returned and he saw that she was dressed in an I Dream of Jeannie costume, with her long, strawberry-blonde ringlets up in a high, swinging ponytail. She caught him looking at her and struck a sassy pose then bounced over and did her best Barbara Eden impersonation.

“Hello, my handsome Master! How are you today?”

She squeezed his arm, and though it was torture to feel her soft, supple body pressed up against his, he couldn’t help but smile at her happy demeanor. Being around her did this to him…when he wasn’t being pissy and territorial.

“I’m fine, Camilla. And you?” Heat rushed through him, making his cock tingle as her feminine scent drifted through his nostrils.

“I’m awesome. Hey, lonely hearts! How are you?” Beck and Patrick looked up at her and both grinned. They’d both joked one night about forming a lonely hearts club, since both of them had been left by the women they loved, and the name had stuck. In Patrick’s case, it was more a case of his now-ex-wife going to prison, leaving him to raise his son by himself. Camilla seemed to be the only person who could draw a real smile from either of them.

“Pathetic bastards is more like it,” Beck replied with a chuckle before sipping his beer, coating his moustache with foam.

Camilla stepped up on the ledge created just for her and patted both their arms affectionately where they rested on the bar. “So who’s getting roasted tonight?” she asked, referring to whatever politician they were discussing.

They chatted with her for a moment before Ben nudged her and motioned with his jaw for her to move down the bar with him.

She followed after refilling their peanut bowl and said, “What’s up?” She leaned against the cooler right next to him, nearly touching, and moved so close he could sense her body heat through the diaphanous fabric she wore. He noticed that she broke into gooseflesh as she tilted her head down, averting her gaze for a moment, and then looked up at him. He nearly forgot what he was going to say as he looked into the hypnotic green depths of her eyes.

“I was just curious. Quinten said that you mentioned leaving to open your own club in San Antonio or Austin. Are you seriously looking into that right now?”

Camilla nodded. “It’s still in the ‘just dreaming’ phase, but yes. I’ve been saving money, looking at getting financial backing. I swear I won’t leave you shorthanded, if that’s what you’re worried about.”