Ruining Mr. Perfect (The McCauley Brothers) Read online

“Fine. We broke up because… Because…”

  “Because you won’t admit to being wrong,” he said quietly, no longer amused.

  “No.”

  “Yes. Being right is everything to you. I was upset with you, not because you spoke to my mother. Okay, maybe a little. I got over that quickly. The fact that you didn’t seem to trust me hurt. Why didn’t you just tell me you’d talked to my mom? Why keep it a secret?”

  “You make no sense.”

  “I make a lot of sense, and that has you scared. You’re afraid to be wrong, afraid to share all of yourself.” He shook his head. “I feel sorry for you.”

  “Fuck you.” She scowled. “I don’t need your pity or your platitudes. I just…” To her horror, her eyes filled. Uncontrollable tears coursed down her cheeks. “You’re such an a-asshole.”

  “Oh, baby.” He scooped her into his arms for a big hug before she could shove him away. His arms felt so good around her. She needed his warmth, his care. Vanessa Campbell, a woman who’d grown to know she could count on no one but herself, wanted Cameron to hold her up. He scared and unnerved her, and her heart bled like a sieve without him.

  “I don’t need you.” She sounded pitiful, even to herself.

  “Shh. It’s okay.” He hugged her tighter, rocking her against him.

  And she let him, loving his comfort. “I don’t,” she whispered, wondering what the hell was wrong with her.

  After a few moments, Cameron pulled back and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Vanessa, answer me one question. Okay?”

  “Fine.” She felt like a fool. Tears? Really, girl? She could almost see her parents frowning at her, shaking their heads at her needless—useless—display of emotion.

  “Would you rather be right, or would you rather have me in your life?”

  An odd question. But put that way… “Couldn’t I have both?”

  He smiled and kissed her softly on the lips. “Pick one.”

  She knew he’d made a huge concession coming here. That he could have taken her immature parting and never looked back.

  “You. I’d rather have you,” she whispered, half ashamed to admit the truth.

  “Oh, Vanessa. You’re so stubborn. It’s no wonder…” She didn’t catch the trail end of what he said, because his lips found hers again.

  Instead of a carnal kiss, the tender caress soothed her. She’d been on pins and needles for days, unsure about herself, angry that she couldn’t cut the ties she needed to. Then to just succumb because he was hugging her right now… She’d put off their inevitable separation yet again, confirming to herself she was as weak as she’d suspected.

  “I won’t get better, you know. I’ll always be like this.” He had no idea what she was really like.

  “I know.” He sounded more than satisfied. “Vanessa, you get me. And I get you. We’re alike yet different just enough to complement each other. That’s a rare thing, don’t you think?”

  “I guess.” She cupped his cheek, taken with the stubble she could feel but couldn’t yet see. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “Was that so hard to admit?”

  She blew out a breath. “God, yes.”

  He laughed.

  “Cameron, I’m not used to you. I like being alone. But I also enjoy spending time with you—us, together.”

  “So do I, honey. But can you understand why I was upset?”

  She thought about it and nodded. “I guess. You wanted me to share my thoughts and feelings, not just ignore everything in my mission to fix what your parents broke. Which I might have done anyway, thank you very much.”

  He frowned. “What’s that?”

  “I felt bad, I admit. So I kind of spied on your mom’s coffee date. Your dad sat with me while we watched.”

  “He did?”

  “Yeah. I also kind of let him have it with both barrels. Told him what an ass he was for not appreciating your mom, and that maybe if he’d told her about his issues and problems a long time ago, none of this mess would have had to happen.”

  Cameron just stared at her.

  “What?”

  “Seems like maybe you should take your own advice, hmm?”

  She flushed. “Maybe.”

  “Vanessa, I like our discussions and the fact that we argue about things. But sometimes we’ll really fight, like we have been. Breaking up at every turn isn’t the answer.”

  “Okay already. You’re right.”

  He stepped back and put a hand over his heart. Then he flopped back on the bed. “My…heart…can’t take…the shock.”

  “Idiot.” She joined him on her bed, rested her head on his chest, and closed her eyes.

  He stroked her hair. “Your idiot. So you’d better keep a close eye on me.”

  God, he was warm. And so strong. His heart beat steadily under her ear, and before she knew it, the rhythm lulled her into sleep.

  She woke to a dark room, fully dressed and under her covers. She still wore her sweaty workout clothes, now dried and nasty. Cam wore his suit trousers and undershirt and cuddled up with her under her comforter.

  For the first time in two weeks they had talked and hadn’t made love. Had sex, she automatically corrected, feeling wary. Yet she’d had the best night’s sleep she could remember, feeling utterly secure as he held her.

  Man, I’m falling for you, Cameron McCauley. And just this once, I don’t want to be right about being so wrong for you.

  She turned over and leaned up to look down at him. Sliding his hair out of his eyes, she stared into his relaxed features, her heart warm, her thoughts fuzzy as she let herself just feel. The light from her alarm clock bathed his face in a soft blue, and the shadows over his cheeks encouraged her to stroke and memorize him by touch.

  He blinked his eyes open, his focus sharpening as he stared up at her and smiled. “Hey, blondie. You’re looking good, even with that hair from hell.”

  “Back at ya, morning breath.” They sneered at each other, and she laughed, feeling amazingly refreshed and…happy.

  After a pause, Cameron said, “No more phone breakups.”

  “No. Next time I’ll do it to your ugly face.”

  “Thank you so much, Miss Charming.” He sighed. “Good thing I canceled my eight o’clock.”

  The clock had just turned to seven-thirty. Dear God, she’d slept the night away.

  “Shit.” She tried to scramble out of bed, but he wouldn’t let her.

  “Vanessa, relax. If you left early yesterday, chances are they think you went home sick. You never leave early.”

  “True.”

  “So take the morning off. Be with me.”

  She stared at him, looking into his eyes and feeling as if she saw so much more than his features. “Play hookey?”

  He gave a fake cough. “No, take care of me. I’m sick.”

  “Bull.”

  He pulled her hand over his chest. “My heart hurt at the thought of losing you.”

  She flushed. “Don’t be melodramatic.”

  “I’m not,” he said quietly. “I don’t want us to be over.”

  She wanted to ask, “Ever?” but didn’t want to hear his answer, scared he might mean forever. Dating was one thing. Permanence? Marriage? Kids? She could just see herself turning into a carbon copy of her mother and froze.

  “Come on, Vanessa. Soothe me.” He ran a hand over her back. “I’m male and I’m needy. But I’m not stupid. You should nurture me, in hopes that someday my good sense will pass on to future generations and spawn a gender of males who aren’t complete fuckheads twenty-four-seven.”

  Her lips twitched at his fake earnestness. “Well, when you put it that way…” She squealed with laughter when he tickled her. Then his caresses moved lower, and her laughs became moans. And sighs, and pleas for more.

  ***
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  By noon, Cam sat dressed in his wrinkled suit at her kitchen table while she prepared them an organic tofu lunch.

  He couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I told you so.”

  According to Vanessa, Josh had spread the word she was feeling sick yesterday, so when Peterman took her call earlier, he’d ordered her to stay home until tomorrow. Panicked at the thought of losing her during tax season, the man wanted to take no chances.

  She frowned at him over her shoulder. “So you were right. Do you have to keep rubbing that in my face?”

  “When’s the last time you took a sick day?” The look she gave him said volumes. “And there’s your answer. Slow down, eager beaver. You’ll make partner. Just don’t burn yourself out in the process.”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “Shut up.” He grinned at her. “Now admit something else. You like missionary. Sometimes being on the bottom is damn good.”

  “He who feels the need to brag hath something to prove.” At his raised brow, she continued with a waspish, “Yeah, yeah. You’re a stud in bed too. Happy now?”

  She brought two plates to the table, and they ate in companionable silence.

  “Are you going to ask me or what?” Cameron said as he finished his sandwich. “You’re a wizard with tofu, you know that?”

  “I know. Ask what?”

  “I saw that note from your parents. The one you spent a good half an hour frowning over this morning.”

  She sighed. “My parents just received two major grants to continue their research at the university. I’m supposed to come home to celebrate the accomplishment. Put in the dutiful appearance as the proud and moderately successful progeny to make them look good.”

  “And?”

  “And I need a date.” She batted her lashes. “Pretty please, Cam? Won’t you come with me?” she begged in a breathy voice.

  “Yes, I’ll go with you.” He was more than curious to meet her stick-in-the-mud parents. The timing of the invitation and Vanessa’s attempt to break up with him felt like too much coincidence. It would do him well to see the people who’d so influenced their daughter. “Is this going to stress you out? Me going along?”

  “Oh no. Just the opposite. You might give me the buffer I need to stay somewhat human during my trip.” She groaned. “I tried to tell you what I’m really like, but maybe if you meet my parents, you’ll understand. If you just want to be fuck-buddies after that, I’m game.”

  He sighed, long and loud. “I thought we’d discussed this. I prefer the term fuck-friends. Not fuck-buddies. That’s so…crass.”

  She smirked. “You’re not crass, are you, Mr. Walk of Shame?” She snickered. “You’re lucky your brothers aren’t here to make fun of you.”

  “Nope. Just my leering girlfriend. My fuck-friend.”

  They continued to tease each other until he left to make a quick stop home. Except after darting upstairs to hurry and change for his appointment, he found his father and Mike arguing inside.

  “Damn it, Dad. Enough is enough. Either shit or get off the pot.”

  “Nice way to talk about your mother.” His father snorted.

  “You know what I’m talking about.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you? This isn’t your fight.”

  “Yeah? Well someone has to stick up for Mom. You’re too busy playing footsie with the coffee chick.”

  “Whoa.” Cam walked between his brother and father, shocked to see the pair truly angry. “What the hell’s this about?”

  Mike pointed at their father. “James has been harassing Mom.”

  “Harassing?” Cam frowned at his father. “Dad?”

  “It’s not like that.” James’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes dark with anger. “Your mother and I need to talk, but she’s not letting me anywhere near her. Do you know she changed the locks at home?”

  Cam bit back a smile. Go, Mom. Whatever had happened between the pair, Cam was all for it. Once disinterested in fixing things with their mother, his dad now seemed to be frothing at the mouth to see her again. “Dad, I thought it was over. Why not just move on? Let her go.”

  “Are you fucking insane?” Mike asked him, breathing fire. “We want them back together. We just don’t want him making her cry every five seconds.” Mike glared at James again. “Meet with a moderator, like she asked. A therapist can settle your differences down at the—”

  “I’m not seeing a fucking shrink to talk to your mother.”

  “Yeah, because all that other great communicating you guys do has helped you so much ’til now,” Cam said drily.

  Next to him, Mike nodded.

  “Jesus. You two are a real pair, you know? Why the hell am I suddenly the bad guy?”

  “Maybe because you’re dating the coffee chick?” Cam offered.

  “Your mother is seeing some guy with no neck! A greasy mechanic who had his hands all over her,” his father yelled.

  “Greasy mechanic?” Cam frowned. “Isn’t it a little hypocritical to call a brother in trade by demeaning names?”

  His father’s scowl turned ugly, and Cam took a step back.

  “Dad.” Mike stepped between them. “If you’re serious about making things right with Mom, why not meet her halfway? She loses the mechanic, you lose the coffee lady, and you two focus on each other.”

  “For the last fucking time, there is no coffee lady! We flirted a few times. I got a free muffin or two. End of fucking story. Your mother’s the one going out on dates.”

  “Dates?” Cam frowned. “Has there been more than one?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean Liam Webster won’t—”

  “Webster? Liam Webster?” Mike frowned.

  “What? You know the guy?” Cam asked.

  “Dad said he’s a mechanic. Del’s a mechanic. Her last name is Webster.”

  Cam had a bad feeling. “I never did get the name of the guy, or how exactly he and Mom met.”

  Mike clenched and unclenched his fists. “Yeah? Well, I think it’s time I asked Mom how she met her new boyfriend.”

  “See? Now you’re thinking like a McCauley.” His father slapped Mike on the back.

  Mike turned on him. “You stay away from her. I’ll find out what’s up. Just… Cam, talk to him. Because acting like he’s forgotten how to think will push her away even more.”

  Mike left and slammed the door behind him. Cam cringed. Then he looked at his dad and saw not a failure as a husband, but a man torn by pain and past mistakes. A future he might one day have if he forgot what was important and focused too much on the day-to-day.

  With a sigh, he moved to the refrigerator and pulled out one of his father’s generic beers. He handed it to his dad and nodded at the couch. Then he called Hope. “Tell Mrs. Foxxe I’ll be there by two. I promise. And that we’re not charging her for the consult.”

  “Good plan, because she was fine changing her schedule once. Twice? Now you’re pushing it.”

  “Thanks for telling me something I already know.” Cam disconnected and turned to his father, who sat holding his beer, staring out the window. “Okay, Dad. You want Mom back? This is how you need to play it…”

  Chapter 15

  Vanessa felt queasy. She hated flying, almost more than she hated crying. But it was her own fault. She never should have tried that new goat cheese the night before her cross-country flight.

  After a third trip to the lavatory, which thankfully had only produced dry heaves, she took the Dramamine tablets Cameron handed her.

  “If you say ‘I told you so,’ I will forcibly stick my fingers down my throat and vomit all over you,” she told him.

  In the aisle next to them, an older man looked up at her in alarm.

  Cameron chuckled and patted the seat. “Yes, dear.”

  She groaned, sat, and swallowed the pills.
“I hate medication of any kind.”

  “Me too, but I took the pills. Notice I’m not having any issues.”

  “Oh, shut up. Are we there yet?”

  “Just another three hours and we’ll change over in Philadelphia.” Cameron sounded way too cheerful. “I haven’t been north of Philly before. Not in Pennsylvania, at least, so this will be fun.”

  “If you say so.” She returned to her story. She managed to hold down the airplane peanuts and hot tea and dozed for a bit, enjoying that she could lean on Cameron’s solid shoulder.

  She also appreciated that he’d upgraded their seats from economy to business class. He’d been so cute when he scoffed at the notion of sitting in the “sardine seats.”

  Loretta and Scott Campbell hadn’t met them at the tiny airport, but they had arranged for a taxi. Cameron and she rode for a while in silence. He had his arm around her shoulder, and she snuggled beside him, confident things had mostly returned to normal between them. She didn’t know if this trip would push him away, or if he’d last a few months longer until he became angry over something else that wasn’t her fault. That, or he’d simply grow bored with her. Either way, she refused to stress about it. She was pragmatic enough to realize she could do nothing to postpone the inevitable. Why not enjoy this time with him while she had it?

  She let him hold her hand and gripped it tighter.

  “You okay?” he asked and kissed the top of her head.

  Those affectionate gestures that were unnecessary yet so fulfilling always amazed her. “Fine. Gotta love the snow.”

  The cabbie nodded and glanced in her rearview mirror. “Can you believe it? I know it’s still March and all, but damn, we just hit spring! And then a snowfall. I think that groundhog was full of crap.”

  Cameron snorted. “Never trust a rodent. And especially not one named Phil.”

  They passed the rest of the short ride in a comfortable banter, and before she knew it, they’d arrived at her parents’ home.

  “Nice digs.” Cameron eyed the palatial home on four acres of land. Her parents had done phenomenally well investing their earned income, as well as the money they’d inherited when Vanessa’s grandfather, on her father’s side, had died.