CAMERON WOKE UP disoriented the next morning. It took her a moment to shake off her bad dreams, to reassure herself that they were, in fact, just dreams.
She sat up, listening for any sounds in the quiet house. She heard nothing, but then again she never heard Jack unless he wanted her to. For a split second she wondered whether she should be worried about him, then realized (a) he was Jack, and (b) if anything had happened to him, she wouldn’t be sitting in her bed wondering anything, seeing how she’d be dead and all.
Feeling strange still being in bed, knowing he was awake somewhere in her house, Cameron got up and padded into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and turned on the shower, letting the water warm up as she undressed. Her injured shoulder yelled out tiny screams of protest as she stretched her arm over her head to take off her T-shirt. She peeled back the bandage and checked in the mirror to make sure everything looked okay.
It was hardly a fun task, trying to shower and wash her hair while keeping her stitches as dry as possible. Per the doctor’s orders, she was supposed to avoid getting them wet for the first twenty-four hours. She certainly could’ve used some help in the shower—an arrangement that would’ve been possible if a certain someone hadn’t decided it was time to be all gentlemanly.
Much grumbling about Jack ensued.
After showering, she did a quick job with her makeup before heading downstairs. She left her hair to air-dry, figuring it wasn’t worth bothering with since she’d likely just have to do it again before Amy’s rehearsal dinner. She walked into the kitchen and found Jack seated at the counter, working.
He glanced at her over his computer. “Good morning.”
He looked again. Longer this time. She may have “forgotten” to put a bra on that morning. Another oops.
“Are you kidding me with that?” he asked.
“Deal with it. I had a really fun time getting all the conditioner out of my hair, buddy.”
Jack chewed on this for a moment. “Nope. No clue what that means.”
Figured. She noticed there was a freshly brewed pot of coffee waiting for her. She sighed. Impossible man—he made it more and more difficult for her to stay cranky with him. She used to be so good at that.
She grabbed her Michigan mug out of the cabinet and poured herself a cup. She took a sip of the deliciously hot beverage and slowly began to feel human again. “You look busy.”
“Got a full day ahead of us,” Jack said.
With his short-sleeve gray T-shirt, jeans, and damp hair, he looked casually gorgeous and far too alert. Cameron figured he must’ve slept well enough in the guest bed.
Jack frowned at his computer. “You have a weak Internet signal.”
Cameron came around the counter and took the seat next to him. “I’ve never had a problem with it before.” As she glanced at his computer, she caught sight of the scar on his forearm—in short sleeves it was hard to miss: jagged, ugly, and several inches long. She knew from reading the files on Jack’s capture that there was a scar on the other side of his arm as well, where the knife had come out the other side.
She said nothing about the scar, not wanting to make Jack uncomfortable.
“Not pretty, is it?”
Cameron silently chastised herself for being so unsubtle. Then again, Jack caught everything. “I can’t imagine how much that must’ve hurt.” She looked up and saw him watching her.
“A bit more than a point two.” He switched the subject. “So we’ve got about a five-hour drive ahead of us today. That means we’ll want to get on the road no later than eleven in order to get you there in time for the rehearsal.”
“I need to call Collin,” Cameron said, suddenly remembering. “After Richard bailed on him, we decided to drive together.”
“I’ve already talked to Collin—he called earlier this morning to see how you were doing. He’s going to take his own car.”
“You answered my phone?”
Jack seemed to find the question amusing. “Is that a problem?”
“You just seem to be on a roll, taking charge with everything this morning.”
“Perhaps we need to set the record straight, then. No matter what happened last night—”
“Oh, but nothing happened last night, remember?”
“—when it comes to your safety, this works like any other protective surveillance situation. Which means that I’m in charge, this entire weekend and for however long it takes