Page 30 of Best Laid Plans (Rock Harbor #1)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ELLE
I t had been years since Elle had played a real tennis match. Not that this was billed as one. But whatever Chelsea thought she’d been getting into, it wasn’t this.
Elle nailed a backhand down the line, and even with her racket extended, Chelsea missed it by at least three feet.
Elle was already walking back to the baseline. “Game.”
Chelsea, winded, lined up to receive Elle’s serve. “Jesus, Elle. I thought this was supposed to be a friendly match. You almost hit me two volleys ago.”
It was hard for Elle to work up any sort of sympathy. Chelsea had betrayed her. Cheated with her boyfriend. And had managed to do it all while they’d been sharing an apartment. The fact that Chelsea couldn’t see that spoke to either her stupidity or her narcissism. Maybe both.
Elle forced a smile. “Just excited to be back on the court.” Why she’d even agreed to this was a question she’d been asking herself since she’d run into Chelsea. There were no answers to be given. No explanation that would make everything that had happened okay.
But Elle needed this. Needed to let out the frenetic energy that had been building inside of her. She stood at the baseline, nothing to do but focus on her serve.
Her dad had finally come home from the hospital this morning, and she had a sinking suspicion that the brand of energy she was bringing into her parents’ house was not exactly welcome.
Evidenced by the fact that after they’d gotten her dad deposited in bed, her mom had gently but insistently encouraged her to leave. Repeatedly. “I’m staying over again,” Elle had said on her way out the door. “Just in case you both need anything for his first night at home.”
“You really don’t need to do that honey.”
“Shouldn’t have been such good parents if you didn’t want us smothering you with love,” she’d yelled from the driveway just as her mom had closed the door.
Elle tossed up the ball, and she could feel that it was going to be a perfect serve when the ball connected with her racket directly in the middle before whizzing right down the center line.
“Ace.” She walked over to the other side of the baseline, ready to go again.
Maybe Elle was never going to get into a fist fight, but this was the next best thing.
Running Chelsea ragged, watching the blonde hairs around her temples frizz with sweat, her cheeks growing splotchy.
Elle was puppeting her like a marionette, and for once, she felt in control of her life, which had started to feel like nothing more than a spectator sport lately.
“So are you going to tell me about your broody new boyfriend?” Chelsea asked at the same time Elle hit her next serve, the ball not even coming close to being inbounds.
Chelsea’s smug smile was all the indication that she needed that Chelsea wasn’t above using her own specific talents to even the playing field.
Elle should have seen that coming. But she wasn’t going to explain that the more she tried to push Cam out of her mind, the more he rooted in, twisting and wrapping around her every thought.
She slowed down the pace of her serve and tried again, making sure to keep the ball in play. “Not much to tell.”
Elle let the volley play out, giving Chelsea a chance to return her shots. A quick end to the point would only start the questions from Chelsea again.
And what could she really say about Cam?
That his helpfulness was becoming like an aphrodisiac?
She’d never been one for the savior-type, and somehow, every time she saw him, her heart had started to feel a little lighter.
That his mere presence had started to make her feel safer, calmer?
That she’d started to crave any chance to wrap herself up in his arms and burrow into his solid, warm chest?
And that’s not even getting into the incredible chef aspect of it all!
He’d stopped by the hospital every night this week to drop off dinner, creations that he’d whipped up in the Pierce’s Lobster Co.
kitchen. Salmon with a creamy garlic lemon and herb sauce that had made Elle moan in appreciation.
Linguini with clams, the pasta perfectly al dente.
Chicken marinated in a medley of flavors that had danced across Elle’s tongue.
And of course, all were cooked to perfection and better than any restaurant she’d ever eaten at.
A man like Cam was dangerous and likely to burn her whole world down. But she couldn’t seem to stop playing with fire.
Elle pushed the thoughts of Cam away. She had more pressing matters to deal with.
She stood at the baseline, running Chelsea back-and-forth across the court like a cat playing with a mouse.
She was going to go for the kill shot and put Chelsea out of her misery when a broad figure appeared at the doorway to the outdoor courts.
Elle misjudged her shot, and the ball soared past the baseline.
“Out,” Chelsea yelled unnecessarily .
Well, bully for Chelsea and her first point of the game.
God, it was embarrassing to have the idea that she wanted Cam to be impressed by her as she squared up for her next serve. She tried to forget his presence, but she couldn’t. He stood quietly about twenty feet away, leaning casually against the fence.
He wore a pair of sunglasses that hid those unfairly sexy green eyes that Elle loved to stare at in different lights, but they perfectly framed his angular face, making his jawline even more impressive.
His outfit was more casual than the last time they’d been at the country club together, a black Pierce’s Lobster Co.
t-shirt doing little to hide a body that Elle remembered so clearly that her nerve endings thrummed with awareness.
For four years, she’d played collegiate tennis against some of the best players in the country, some of them who’d gone on to play pro.
A hot guy should not be rattling her focus this much.
Except that this hot guy knew just how to touch her.
Knew exactly where to put those big hands and give her what she’d so desperately needed.
And then, had kept showing up for her and her family.
Continually being so fucking considerate that she didn’t know what to do with him.
Why was he trying to torture her?
And then she caught his sly smile, and heat rolled through her body at the idea that Cam knew exactly the effect he was having on her.
“Um… are you going to serve, or are you just going to keep eye-fucking your boyfriend?”
Elle aced her serve quickly, waiting until Chelsea missed the return to say, “He’s wearing sunglasses. How would that even work?”
She could see Cam hiding his laughter, his hand covering his mouth as he turned away from them. And she loved that, too. The more relaxed, open version that he’d started to let her see. It was magnetic, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to fight it.
“Time out,” Elle said, already walking across the court to where Cam stood, looking far too pleased with himself. “If you can’t tell, I’m trying to do a thing here.”
Cam twisted his fingers into the chainlink fence. “I was just making sure that neither of you were bloody and bruised yet.”
Elle glanced over her shoulder. “Only Chelsea’s pride. Hopefully.”
“That’s my girl,” Cam said, and Elle felt it through her whole body. She leaned forward instinctively, into the warmth permeating through Cam’s shirt.
“Your girl?” Elle pushed Cam’s sunglasses up onto his forehead, bright green eyes flecked with gold looking back at her.
Surprising her, Cam used his free hand to wrap it around Elle’s torso and pull her even closer “To Chelsea, at least. I figured I’d come down here and play the doting boyfriend that just can’t seem to stay away.”
His words should have been a dose of reality, but they weren’t. Because being touched by Cam just felt too damn good, regardless of the reason. Elle ran her fingers down his bicep. “Really a jack-of-all-trades lately. Savior of restaurants. Defender of wronged women.”
Cam cocked his head to the side and gave her an easy, charming grin. “What can I say, I like to be helpful.”
Elle pressed her palms into his chest, solid and encompassing. But she was holding him close, not pushing him away. “And what does all this help get you?”
“A chance to do this.” She didn’t have time to think before Cam’s lips were on her, soft and making the electricity crackle through her with the simple contact. She stifled a groan, which Cam swallowed, his tongue ghosting along her bottom lip.
“Time-outs are actually timed,” Chelsea yelled from her side of the court, the obvious frustration in her voice only making Elle lean into the kiss more.
The thought that they shouldn’t be kissing dimly flitted through her mind, but she didn’t want to stop.
And Cam, for all his ideas about them being a ‘one time thing,’ and keeping their relationship platonic, had surely found himself in the role of a lifetime if he actually believed that was the case.
She could feel his hunger building, as his soft nips turned more pressing, his tongue begging for entry in a way she desperately wanted to give him.
The hand that had been wrapped through the fence came down and pressed into her other hip, and he spun her so quickly that she didn’t realize it was happening until she felt the criss-crossed metal digging into her back.
“Cam,” she breathed, as his lips traveled down to her neck.
“We’re on a tennis court. In the middle of a country club.
Where you are the celebrity guest for an event tomorrow.
” She was naming all the reasons this was getting wildly out of control in the hopes that this would slow Cam down, because she couldn’t do it for them.