A Time to Embrace (Love's Time Book 3) Page 3

  And she never worried that he’d try to put the move on her. He hadn’t, and he’d had plenty of opportunities. She trusted him and enjoyed their friendship. But that’s all it would ever be because the last thing she wanted was a man to complicate her life. Ever again. She blew out a breath, lifting the hair shading her eyes.

  “The same could be said about you, but I’m glad you don’t talk like that at work. I’d never be able to keep a straight face.” His amused tone rumbled close to her head, bringing her back from her thoughts.

  Huh? Oh, Violet’s retro phrases. “Yeah. But if I did, it would be payback for stepping into your office.”

  He grinned, and she slipped through the door his elbow held open. Once again, the subtle scent of his cologne reached out and grabbed her. She really needed to get a grip. She gave her head a little shake and picked up her pace, her shoulder brushing his chest as she hustled outside.

  She stepped over to the rail and gazed up at the now dark sky. It was so beautiful. Almost as if God had held the stars in his palm and blew them to scatter like moon dust sparkling against an inky blanket, just for them to be in awe of His handiwork tonight.

  But that would mean God would have to care about what she thought, right? And she wasn’t so sure that He did.

  A cool breeze tousled her hair. She brushed it away from her eyes, thankful that now all she smelled was pine and burning wood, evidence of fireplaces burning all over the neighborhood.

  There. That was better. Safer than Camdon’s fresh, spicy scent.

  She tugged her sweater tighter around her chest and settled on one end of the outdoor wicker sofa. Camdon set the mugs of hot chocolate down on the coffee table and sank down on the other side with a groan.

  “This is nice. The perfect way to end the week.” He rolled his neck and relaxed into the couch. With his toe, he nudged the coffee table over a few inches and stretched those ridiculously long legs out.

  “Well, technically, there is one more day.” Her tone came out dry. Not everyone had the luxury of a weekend day off.

  He chuckled. “Leave it to you to be technical.”

  “True. But that’s because I usually work on Saturdays.” Sure, she’d like to be home to share a lazy day with Violet, but she’d worked almost every Saturday for as long as she could remember. For her, it was just another workday.

  “Yeah. Me, too.”

  “You work every day, don’t you?”

  “I try not to pull out my laptop on Sundays, but sometimes even that’s unavoidable.” His chest heaved with his displeasure about that.

  “Taking care of an entire city is a never-ending job, I’ll bet.”

  He straightened, his sudden movement rocking the whole couch, and rammed his fingers through his hair. The little section sticking straight up in the front made him look like a boy after a tough week at school. His arm snaked out to rest along the top of the couch again, just barely grazing the back of her neck. His other hand scraped the whiskers shadowing his jaw, the scratchy noise breaking the stillness of the night. He angled his body to face her, his green-eyed gaze doing a slow skim from the top of her head to hold steady on her mouth.

  Oh. She licked her dry lips. Then again, maybe “boy” wasn’t an apt way to describe him. Nope. He was all man. Especially when those long arms reached down to scoop her feet up onto his lap, just like every other time they sat outside to chat.

  She propped a cushion behind her back and repositioned herself sideways. His fingers did a little dance on her feet, tingling her toes all the way through the thick socks she wore.

  “Mmmm…that feels wonderful.” She closed her eyes and treasured Camdon’s tender touch, his kindness. Always the gentleman, never the rogue. “Long week?

  “Not so much long. Just a lot to think about.”

  She focused her attention on his face. “Like what?” He probably wouldn’t tell her. Sometimes he couldn’t, but that never stopped her from asking.

  “The City Manager finally announced his retirement date.”

  Well that was news. The guy had been sounding off for ages that he was going to retire. “When?”

  “The end of the year. December 31st.”

  “Finally. After all that talk, I thought it was just that. Empty promises,” she said.

  “Buddy’s a good guy.” His fingers worked their way up and down her feet then massaged each toe.

  She tamped down the moan of pleasure that threatened to bubble right out of her chest. Why were they discussing Buddy Johnson? She thought Camdon did most of the work for the guy, anyway. “Yeah. I’m sure he is, but I think it’s probably time he retired. How old is he anyway?”

  Mr. Johnson had always offered a friendly smile when she’d passed him in the hallway, but she didn’t know him that well, even though he’d been the city manager for as long as she’d been working for the city, going on thirteen…or was it fourteen years now? And the man looked to be about eighty. The stooping of his shoulders had grown progressively worse and don’t get her started on the memory loss. She’d heard him floundering lately during their afternoon council meetings, scratching the few coarse hairs left on his balding head, trying to remember specific details for the inquisitive council members. Camdon had always stepped in with a delicate interruption, saving the man from further embarrassment.

  “It’s time, Camdon. He should be hanging out with my seniors, enjoying the rest of his life, not working himself into a grave. Besides, the city could use new blood in that position. Someone younger with more energy. Someone who has fresh ideas.” Like Camdon. He was the perfect man for the job.

  His fingers stilled around her foot. “He asked me to consider putting my resume in for the job.”

  She smiled.

  “You’re not surprised?”

  “Of course not. You’ve worked hard. You deserve the promotion. But how do you feel about it?”

  “It’s the next step on the ladder for me, but I’m not sure if I’m ready. Or that my family would ever be ready for something like that.”

  How could he not see how perfect he was for the job? And she was certain his family would recognize and accept that, too. “With your family’s history, I can understand why you’d want to consider them. But ultimately, you know they’ll leave that decision to you. Have you talked with your mom? Or Remi and Carson?”

  “Not in depth. But they’ve all heard the rumors about Johnson’s retirement.” He switched legs, and his fingers started kneading her other foot. Heaven!

  “You would make a wonderful city manager.”

  “Thanks. I have a few weeks still to think about it. I can devote some time to praying about it while we’re in the mountains.”

  Praying about it? She didn’t know if that would work too well for him. In her experience, it hadn’t. Maybe Camdon had more pull with the Almighty.

  But the time away would be good for him. The man hadn’t taken a vacation since…she couldn’t remember. “How long has it been since you took some time off?”

  His dark eyebrows arched then narrowed. He rubbed his jaw. “It’s been a while.”

  “So long you can’t even remember.” She shook her head. “For shame.”

  “Oh yeah? What about you, missy?” Challenge twinkled from his eyes. “You’re all talk. You may be escaping Harrison next week, but you’re not getting away from work, either.”

  “True.” She’d never taken an actual vacation, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. Knowing Camdon, he’d want to start planning one for her, and she couldn’t afford it. Not after Violet’s orthodontist appointment this afternoon.

  “If you could go on a dream vacation, where would it be?”

  ****

  “Vacations are highly overrated. And really, that’s all it would be for me anyway. A dream.” Her chest lifted with a heavy sigh.

  He continued massaging her foot, but maybe he should be working on the kinks he knew he’d find in her shoulders instead.

  “What’s going on?
” He tried hard not to sound overly concerned. He’d move heaven and earth to grant her dreams. If she’d only let him.

  “Violet needs braces. I should have seen that one coming.”

  “Ouch. How much is that going to set you back?”

  “Most of my house fund.”

  He put her foot down, gently, and rose from the couch. He walked to the rail and set his elbows on the frigid wood, staring out at the darkness. He could offer her a loan, but knowing Sierra, she wouldn’t take it. She could be so stubborn sometimes, especially when it came to accepting help. Not just from him, but anyone who’d ever offered.

  Lord, she works so hard for her little family. She’s raising Violet by herself. She contributes to most of Wilma’s mortgage now that Wilma only works part time. She never complains about the long hours she puts in at work, or how ornery some of the seniors are to deal with. She always treats Wilma and Violet, and those cantankerous seniors, with such kindness and grace. How long before she can do something for herself? And what can I do to help?

  A creak in the wicker sounded behind him, then soft pads scuffled across the wood deck. She planted an elbow next to his on the rail with a slight huff.

  “Guess we both have plenty to think about next week.” It wasn’t what he wanted to say. No, what he wanted to say was “marry me,” but she wasn’t ready to hear those words, yet. He still had quite a ways to go. How could he help her see that dating and marriage wasn't as bad as she believed it to be? Or would he ever convince her of that?

  3

  Hunched over his bed, Camdon stuffed some jeans in a bag, grinding them all the way to the bottom of the pack. He rolled up a few long-sleeved cotton shirts and added them to the duffle, followed by a couple sweaters. He wore a neutral colored sports jacket, so he wouldn’t need to pack another.

  He scooped up the bag and headed down the dark hallway of his condo, disappointment over yesterday’s council meeting seeping into his spirit and settling in his gut.

  Not only had the council voted to slash the budget again, for the fifth consecutive year, but they’d also demanded deeper cuts for the remainder of this year. He’d hoped that the uptick in the economy might have inspired them to vote differently. But apparently, they were still a little gun shy.

  Much like Sierra.

  Someone had really hurt her. It was going to take a lot of wooing on his part, and many prayers, to help overcome the damage that some jerk had inflicted. If ever.

  He poured water into the coffeemaker and hit the brew button, then meandered to the window and pulled the curtain back. Water gurgled and dripped through the machine, the only noise in the small kitchen. He missed his twin’s deep morning rumble as he prepared breakfast for the two of them. The condo was entirely too quiet now.

  A door banged closed, and two neighbor kids appeared out front, along with their dad who loaded them in the car for the trip to school. The tykes were about six and eight, if he remembered correctly. They were so cute, the big brother helping the younger one with his book bag, the younger gazing up at his brother with impressionable eyes.

  What would that be like? Children to love and treasure, to make a house come alive with their constant chatter. A wife to warm his bed and to chase away the loneliness that settled in every evening as soon as he walked in the door to the empty condo.

  Maybe it was time to put the condo on the market and look for something more permanent. Something more homey.

  He waved at his neighbor and dropped the curtain back in place. It wasn’t the condo. It was the lack of life inside. He dragged a bagel out of the freezer and slid it in the toaster.

  Still…with his Romance Sierra plan already implemented, it wouldn’t hurt to contact his realtor. Get the ball in motion. But was Sierra ready to consider something more permanent? Because, really, if she didn’t like the house, it wouldn’t matter.

  She needs to pick it out. The idea hit him in the chest with the force of a sledgehammer. Yeah. If she helped pick it out, that was half the battle won. His heart lifted, the dismal budget vote fading into the past.

  Sierra was his future. It was time he did something about her. About them.

  ****

  “Grab your book bag, Violet. It’s time to go.” Sierra dumped the remnants of her coffee in the sink, rinsed out the cup and added it to the dishwasher. She did the same with the morning’s cereal bowls.

  “Okie dokie.” Violet scooted back from the table, scooped up her papers and stuffed them in the book bag on Wilma’s hutch. The hutch that didn’t contain good china, like most people’s hutches, but mostly consisted of junk. Useless items that collected dust and piles of mail that Wilma had yet to sort through. And a small tv that constantly droned in the background.

  Sierra shook her head, a smile curving her lips. Why did Wilma feel the need for background noise when Violet was around?

  “Bye, Grandma.” Violet leaned over and gave her great grandmother a peck on the cheek.

  “You leaving already?” Wilma’s head bobbed up from the book she’d been reading during breakfast, her poofy silver hair sticking out in all directions. She said the same words every morning, as if they’d all not just shared breakfast, sitting at the same table without a dozen words passing between them.

  “It’s that time.” And Sierra always uttered the same words back. She closed the dishwasher and dried her hands on the towel.

  “So we’re supposed to meet at the Rec Center at one o’clock, right?”

  Sierra turned to face her grandmother. “Yep. The bus is pulling out at one thirty sharp. I want to make it to Deer Mountain before it gets too dark. It’s a wicked ride through those mountains.”

  Violet dragged her bag on the floor behind her as she headed for the coat hook by the back door. Sierra followed, helping Violet slide her arms through the sleeves of a lightweight jacket, and then pulling her own sweater over her arms.

  “You know you won’t be waiting on me.” Faded blue eyes regarded her, grey eyebrows arched in semi-defiance. “Now that young man of yours…”

  “He’s not my man, young or old. But, yes, I know.” Wilma would be there with plenty of time to spare. Camdon, on the other hand, would squeal into the parking lot with one minute to spare. But she trusted him to be there because he said he would. And if there was anything she knew about Camdon, he kept his word. “Can I put your suitcase in the car yet, Grandma?”

  Wilma scooted back from the kitchen table and stood, her bony arms flailing through the air as she stretched. “No thanks. I haven’t packed, yet.”

  “What’s taking so long?” What was so hard about tossing a few pairs of sweatpants in a bag?

  Wilma didn’t respond, but a shy look flitted across her grandmother’s face as she padded quietly to the sink in wool crew socks, turning her back to them.

  What was that all about? “Okay, then. I’ll see you later.” Sierra held the door open for her daughter then scooped up both overnight bags, hers and Violet’s.

  “Later, Gator.” Violet waved at Wilma. When she turned and stepped through the opening, her bag banged into Sierra, knocking the breath from her lungs.

  “Sheesh. What do you have in that thing?”

  “All my books.”

  “Why? You have a locker now.”

  “I know. But I have forgotten a book in my locker before, when I had homework in that class. It wasn’t a pretty sight when the teacher called on me to answer the problem. It’s just best if I carry them all.” Vertical lines marred her daughter’s smooth forehead as they made their way across the yard to Sierra’s ancient car.

  “Ahh. I could see how that would be a problem,” Sierra sympathized.

  Violet worked hard for good grades. The few times her daughter had brought home a less than stellar report card, she’d been physically ill.

  Sierra dropped the bags on the ground and hit the fob to unlock the car. Violet slid into the passenger seat, and Sierra flung the bags in the back. Shivering, she squeezed into the dr
iver seat and cranked the engine, which took a couple tries, before turning the heat on full blast. Wrapping arms around her chest, she rubbed her arms, waiting for the car to warm.

  “I don’t want you to worry about me while you’re gone, Mom.”

  Since when had her daughter become the responsible one of their tiny family unit?

  “Of course, I’ll worry about you. That’s my job.” Smiling, Sierra put the car in reverse, angling over her shoulder to back out of the driveway.

  “Well, don’t. Jillian will take good care of me. I want you to enjoy yourself. For once.”

  Once on the street, she mashed the accelerator and made her way to the corner, sparing a quick glance over at Violet, who was staring at her with a serious expression. “Okay.”

  What was going through her daughter’s pretty head? She quickly processed their conversations over the last few days but came up with nothing. No reason for Violet to be saying such strange things. “Are you upset about me being gone over Halloween?”

  “Not even.” Violet wrinkled her nose. “I’m too old for Halloween.”

  Sierra arched her eyebrows as she made a right turn. “Since when?”

  “Since this year.”

  That was news. Up until a month ago, Violet had still been throwing out possible costume ideas. Ouch. Her little girl was growing up. And at the rate Sierra was saving for their dream home, it would just be Wilma and Sierra left to putter around together.

  Sierra smiled at the thought, but inside her dream was shattering into a zillion little pieces. Tiny fragments to a complicated puzzle she had no idea how to put back together.

  “Mom…”

  “Yeah?” She cleared her throat and shook her head. Glanced sideways at Violet. Something was on her mind.

  “Aurora’s parents are getting divorced. She’s really upset about it.” Aurora was Violet’s best friend. She’d been over to the house many times over the last few years.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “She’s going to live with her mom, and she doesn’t think she’ll be able to see her dad anymore.”