Page 41 of Pretty Desperate (Pine Village #6)

KAMERON

S eeing her cry has shaken me to the core.

I didn’t even get a chance to finish telling her about Lilly, because I witnessed the weight of our lie suffocate her.

She’s been slowly sinking, our fake relationship tied around her ankle, and I’m done.

I can’t watch it consume and change her, and that’s what’s happening.

She said she can’t do this anymore, and I’m the asshole who made her do this in the first place.

Well, I can fix this.

I can fix us.

Because that’s what I want to do. I don’t want a “fake” relationship with her. I want a real one. I just hope it’s not too late, that the damage isn’t irreversible. I pray there’s an us to salvage.

Pulling out my cell phone, I pull up the contact I’m searching for.

“Hello?” the older voice comes through the device, a grandmotherly, friendly sound.

“Mrs. Krokus, it’s Kameron Markley,” I offer.

“Oh, Kameron, what a lovely surprise. How are you?”

My heart is pounding in my chest, and it has nothing to do with the clipped pace I walk as I head back home to get my vehicle. “I’ve been better,” I answer honestly. “Listen, Mrs. Krokus?—”

“Dorothy, please,” she interrupts.

“Dorothy,” I reply. “I was hoping I could stop by and steal a few minutes of your time. There’s something I need to discuss with you. Are you available right now?” I refuse to do this over the phone. Face-to-face is the only way to say what I have to say.

“Actually, I’m not. I just left to meet a few ladies at the diner for a late dinner.”

My heart falls.

I really wanted to do this now.

“Why don’t we meet at the building? I can steal a few minutes with you. We’re so close to the signing date, and I’m getting anxious. I can’t wait to see your vision come to life. Well, yours and Jillian’s.”

And there it goes. My heart sinks lower than ever before. It’s like it dropped to the ground and everyone is walking all over it with high heels and track cleats. Clearing my throat, I agree, “I can be there in a few minutes.”

“Great!” she bellows, obviously pleased by my offer. “I’ll see you there, Kameron. Can’t wait.”

I reply something that sounds like goodbye, but my mind is already three steps ahead, the plan forming in my head.

I make it home rather quickly, and instead of running inside and changing my clothes, since I’m dressed so casually, I opt to just go as is.

The quicker I get to the building, the faster I can fix this mess I’ve created.

My drive back to downtown is swift, since it’s only a few blocks.

I probably could have just walked to the opposite end where my restaurant and the building I was planning to purchase are located, but I want my car there so I can go find Jillian afterward.

Instead of driving around back where I’d generally leave my car while at work, I pull beside the one I know to be Mrs. Krokus’s along the roadway.

She offers me a quick smile as I climb from my vehicle, and she slowly does the same.

“Here,” she says when I approach, handing me the key to the front door.

I take it, and even though I’d love to run up and get the door open right away—move this whole thing along—I hang back and offer my arm to the older woman.

She graciously takes it and together, we make our way to the front door.

Unlocking the old wood-framed glass door, a wave of sadness washes over me.

I’m about to walk away from the expansion I always wanted.

But I’m walking toward something greater.

That sadness quickly transforms into calmness.

I know I’m making the right decision.

Dorothy reaches over with a shaky hand and flips the switch, bathing the dusty, old space in light. She smiles at the space, taking it all in. “I love it here,” she whispers before closing her eyes. “I feel his presence.”

My throat is thick as I try to swallow over the lump. I know she’s referring to her late husband, and the guilt I feel sours my stomach.

Taking a deep breath, I turn and face Mrs. Krokus. “I have a confession to make. I can’t buy your building.”

If she’s surprised by my statement, she shows no indication, just continues to watch me.

Knowing the only way to move forward is to walk through the shit-mess I created, I lay my confession at her feet, right here in the middle of her empty space. “I lied to you. I’m not in a relationship with Jillian. I told you that to get the building.”

She finally reacts, cocking her head a bit to the side. “Why?”

“Why did I lie? Because I was selfish and I wanted this building. I didn’t want you to sell to that other couple.”

“There was no other couple, Kameron,” she replies with a hint of a grin on her lips.

“What?”

She shrugs and releases my arm, taking a few hesitant steps forward. “You’re not the only one who can lie, young man.”

I’m completely flabbergasted, my feet rooted in place. “Why?”

“Why did I lie?” she asks, looking at me over her shoulder. “Same reason as you. I wanted something.”

“What did you want?” I ask, trying to understand.

“I wanted you to see what was directly in front of you all along.”

I look around the vast room.

“Not that, Kameron. Jillian.”

My mouth falls open, but no words come out.

Dorothy chuckles and spins around, surprisingly agile for a woman of her age. “I was there that night, you know.”

“What night?” I ask, confused.

“The night you prepared tacos for her and her friends.”

I think back on that night not too long ago when Jillian asked me to return a favor.

She had made a few last-minute desserts for me, and I told her I’d be happy to reciprocate at some point down the road.

When she made that call, it was for something quick and easy she could take to a girls’ night over at Blair’s house.

She didn’t care what it was, just wanted finger foods.

I agonized over what to make all day, until it hit me.

I prepared a huge taco bar spread, something I had never really done before, at least not since college.

And when it came time to deliver the food, I wouldn’t let her pick it up.

I drove it all over to Blair’s house myself, refusing to send one of my employees to do it.

Veronica gave me a hard time over it. I remember catching some flack when I went up front to tell her I was leaving for a few minutes to deliver the food.

There were a few customers in the restaurant. Was one of them Mrs. Krokus?

“I saw the look in your eye when you said you were taking it all over to the Rhodes’s house. It wasn’t anticipation for seeing Gabe or Blair. It was to see Jillian.”

My throat is thick as I try to swallow.

I remember the way my heart kicked up a few beats when I saw her standing in Gabe’s kitchen, waiting. She seemed thrilled by what I came up with, knowing the tacos would be a huge hit amongst her friends. But I was more enthralled with her eagerness and happiness over something as simple as tacos.

I smiled the whole way back to my restaurant.

Closing my eyes, I recall exactly how she looked standing there, helping me set up the feast I delivered.

The soft curls in her hair, the pretty sundress she was wearing, the way her scent seemed to reach around me and squeeze.

I remember every detail as if it had happened moments ago and not a few months back.

Same goes for the night I showed up on her doorstep and told her I needed a pretend girlfriend.

And every moment we’ve spent together since.

“You realize it now, right? There has always been something lingering between you two. I just helped push it along.”

I gape at the older woman, who now wears a pleased smile on her face. “You set me up?”

She shrugs. “Perhaps.”

I run my hand over my face in annoyance and shock. I can’t believe she did this. “So, now what?” I find myself asking, desperate for a little bit of direction here.

“Well, now you go get the girl, Kameron. She needs tacos.”

That makes me pause. “Excuse me?”

“She needs the man you were the night you came over with tacos. The one who dropped what he was doing to help her out.” She gives me her full attention and reaches for my hand. “You love her, right?”

I want to nod, to confirm what we both already know, but when I finally say those words, it’ll be her ears hearing them.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. I can see it in your eyes.”

I shake my head, doing all I can to wrap my brain around the last few minutes. Hell, the last hour or so. “What does this mean?” I find myself asking, desperately looking for a little guidance right now.

“It means I know you lied, and I understand why you did it. I could have called you out, but chose to let it ride. Why? Because I was secretly hoping you’d realize your true feelings for Jillian.”

Damn, I wish I had a chair right now, because the floor seems to be falling out from under me. I slip my hands through my hair and listen as she continues.

“Have you? Realized your true feelings?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“Good,” she replies proudly, a satisfied grin on her face. “Now, what are you going to do to win her over? There was a reason you came clean, right?”

“Yes. Not only was it wrong to continue the charade, but it’s created unnecessary stress for her. She hasn’t been feeling well lately, and this lie and the anguish it was creating isn’t worth it.”

She waves off my comment. “Jillian is fine, I promise.”

I don’t exactly share her blasé attitude where Jillian is concerned. She was anything but fine a little bit ago. The tears were very real, and I felt every single one of them as they slid down her cheeks.

“I’m afraid,” I find myself confessing, the words just sliding from my mouth.

“Of?”

“Of messing this up again.”

“Oh, Kameron, we all make mistakes. I’ve made plenty. But something tells me you’re referring to a very specific one, right? I know about your marriage back in your twenties.”

My eyes widen in shock. “What? You do?”

“Oh, yes,” she says, placing her hand on my arm and walking farther into the room.

I have no choice but to follow. “Your mom mentioned it to me once. She was so excited for your upcoming wedding but understood and respected your need for privacy. She told only a couple of people, me and her friend, Helen, included.”

“You never said a word,” I reply, trying to wrap my head around the fact she knew.

“I do indulge a bit in the occasional gossip, but that wasn’t mine to tell.”

I exhale slowly. “My ex, Lilly, left me because I wasn’t ready to start a family.”

She nods.

“She’s happily married, with three kids,” I add, smiling. I’m truly delighted Lilly found her happily ever after.

“As you should. It led you to yours.”

My heart does this weird skippy beat in my chest. “Jillian’s divorce sort of mirrors mine,” I state, realizing how it must have sounded to hear about my former marriage and the cause of the demise of it.

“Sometimes it takes losing what you thought you wanted to gain what you truly needed.”

Her words hit hard and when I realize we’ve stopped moving, we’re standing at the back of the large space.

“This is going to make a beautiful restaurant, Kameron. I know you talked about adding more kitchen and storage space, which I’m sure you need, but I think you should add a little extra office space here,” she informs me, indicating to the spot at the very back of the building I was just planning to use for more storage.

She turns and holds my gaze as she adds, “This way, you can raise your family here too.”

A mixture of longing and hope bursts in my chest like a Fourth of July firework. She paints a beautiful picture; one I want nothing more than to grab on to and hold close.

Clearing my throat, I ask, “You’re still selling me the building? Despite everything?”

She smiles and brings her aging hand up to cup my jaw. “Of course I am. This space was destined for you. I’m certain it will again be filled with the sights and sounds of a growing family. Your family, Kameron.”

I admit, I have to blink a few times to keep the sudden rush of moisture at bay. The vision of walking into my office and seeing Jillian and a baby or two is vivid. It’s like a beautiful painting hanging in a museum, one I could stand and stare at all day long and never tire of the scene.

“I have to go,” I blurt out, turning panicked eyes her way.

Dorothy smiles. “Yes, you do. Go get your girl, Kameron. I’ll see you Monday morning at the title company. We have a transaction to complete.”

I throw my arms around her, giving the older woman a firm, warm hug. “Thank you,” I whisper.

“Of course.”

I turn and head for the door but stop in my tracks.

“Go. I can lock up. I want to spend a few more minutes taking this all in.”

A smile stretches across my lips. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me—for us, Dorothy.”

She grins the sweetest motherly smile, and I swear, I see my mom reflecting back at me. “You’re very welcome, young man. The next time that door opens, it’ll be to welcome new life within these walls. A new family. I can’t wait to watch it thrive again.”

I’m moving before I even realize my legs are carrying me back to Mrs. Krokus. I throw my arms around her once more and place a gentle kiss on her cheek. “I promise to make you proud.”

She grins, her eyes reflecting moisture. “You already have. Now, go get the girl, tiger.”

Just as I reach the door, I holler, “On opening night, you get seated first.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d be,” she informs me.

“You sure you’re okay here to lock up and get down to the diner?” I’ll gladly stay an extra five minutes to help the older woman.

“Of course,” she confirms. “I might be old, but I’m not dead yet.” She throws me a wink and turns her attention back to the large, empty room that once housed her own business. I witness love and joy washing over her as she closes her eyes, reliving the past.

Maybe someday that’ll be me. When I’m ready to turn the keys of Prime Steak House over to the next owner.

The person who will love and care for it, helping it grow and thrive just as I’ve been doing for the last decade.

Then maybe I’ll be this person, the one standing in the middle of the room, taking it all in one last time.

Hopefully, I’ll be doing it with a certain woman by my side.

What started out as a fake relationship, a desperate plea for help, turned into something bigger than I ever could have imagined.

It turned into love.

Now it’s time to go get my girl, as Mrs. Krokus instructed. I’m ready. I just pray she will hear me out. I have a lot to say, and it’s time I said it.

Hold on, Jilly.

Ready or not, I’m coming for you.

I’m coming for us.