BLACK CRIMSON (Fairy Tale Quartet #4)

11. Camille

11

Camille

I’d just hung up my work phone with the secretary of some stupid chiropractic clinic who thought she could haggle prices and lowball me for an ad when my personal phone dinged with an incoming text from my purse.

Certain Gran needed something that I’d have to drop by the grocery store to get for her on the way home, I glanced out past my cubicle, hoping no one else had heard the sound because a memo had gone out just this morning, saying too many employees were spending too much time on their cell phones. So they were now banned during work hours.

When I saw that the coast was clear, I opened the bottom drawer of my desk and plunged my hand into my wicker purse that was sitting in there. After I felt around, I got my fingers around my phone and jerked it up to set it flat on the desk, hidden by my keyboard.

Not seeing anyone paying me any kind of attention, I finally dropped my attention to the screen, only to frown. The message was from an unknown number and contained an attachment of one image.

Oh geez, if Dan from Gabby’s party had gotten a hold of my number and sent me a d**k pic, heads were going to roll.

Or maybe it was some kind of virus, and it would infect all my apps if I opened it.

I started to put my phone away, intent to ignore it, when another message came through from the same number.

UNKNOWN: Hey, Mayhem.My jaw dropped. “Oh my God!” He had my number.

Wait a second, I’d freaking given him my number on the card I’d left in the file folder. Of course, he had my number. Duh.

But he’d actually used it! Oh holy wow, did this mean—

Another message came through.

UNKNOWN: Is this you when you were young? Damn, you were an adorable little rug rat even then.So the picture he’d sent was of me? Logging in to my phone, I went to the messages and opened the image file. A second later, the picture of a photograph in a wooden frame filled the screen. It was of me when I was in first grade, I think. I was grinning at the camera, wearing a ladybug Halloween costume for the school parade, and one of my front teeth was missing.

I really had been adorable, hadn’t I?

Except, wait another damn second. I brought the phone closer to my face as I squinted at the shot. Didn’t Gran have a copy of this very picture sitting on her end table next to her couch? In this exact kind of frame?

“Holy s**t!” I yelped, surging to my feet when I saw the arm of the couch in the corner of the shot, bearing the same pattern as Gran’s sofa.

That bastard was in my grandmother’s apartment.

“Blanchette!” the voice of my boss snapped.

I jerked my head up to find Carmen in the opening of my cubicle, hands on her hips and eyes narrowed censoriously.

“Did you not get the office email that went out today, specifically saying no more personal cell phone usage during—”

“I have to go,” I cut in, grabbing my phone, purse, and jacket as I surged to my feet.

“Go?” she sputtered, still blocking my exit. “But you came in late today.”

“I know. I’m sorry, but don’t worry. I already filled my quota. Besides, it’s Gran,” I rushed the explanation, stepping forward and basically forcing her to back up out of my way or get run over. “Someone’s in her apartment.”

“Oh hell,” Carmen muttered, backpedaling to let me out. “It’s not a door-to-door salesman, is it? Damn vipers. My dad had some bastard selling hearing aids catch him home alone last week. Cleared nearly ten grand out of his banking account that I don’t think we’re going to get back.”

Thank God I had a boss who also checked in on an elderly family member. It was the only thing we had in common. Otherwise, I don’t think she would’ve been very understanding right now at all.

“I certainly hope it’s not a crooked salesman,” I told her in a winded voice as I grabbed my jacket, and fibbing just enough to get out of there without any repercussions. “I’ll work extra hours later for this, I swear.”

“I know you will.” She nodded. “You’ve proven yourself good for it. Now, go! Save your grandma.” She even shooed me away to hurry me along. “And if you can nail the swindler’s ass, do it. For all of us.”

With a grateful smile, I nodded. “I will. Thanks.”

Ten minutes later, I was huffing and puffing as I stopped in front of my grandmother’s fourth-floor apartment entrance and pounded on the door. If he’d done a single thing to upset her or get her hopes up about anything at all, I was going to s*******r him.

The handle turned. I held my breath, braced to see Gran in tears, only to blink in surprise when Brick Carmichael appeared before me instead.

“Camy!” he greeted with a wide, wolfish grin. “What a pleasant surprise. Do come in.”

I blinked before swallowing as he opened the door wider. “Why, Gran,” I murmured faintly, trying to keep my cool and not immediately strangle him as I stepped over the threshold to brush past him while he shut the door behind me, only to discover we were alone in the front room. “What a thick five-o’clock shadow you have,” I said, turning back to face off with him.

Brick chuckled and rubbed his hand along his jaw. “The better to tickle the insides of your thighs with, my dear.”

Oh, that rat bastard.

Narrowing my eyes, I stepped toward him and poked a finger into his chest. “What in the hell are you doing here?”

“Me!?” He sounded innocent and surprised by the question. “Hey, I’ve just been introducing myself to your sweet, loveable grandmother. That’s all. Can I take your coat?” Since I’d been too preoccupied to actually put my jacket on, I still had it slumped over the crook of my arm.

I blinked in confusion as Brick casually slipped it off my forearm and turned to hang it on the hanger by the door, playing host.

“And your purse,” he offered in a polite, accommodating kind of way as he took the wicker basket next and hung it from a hook just higher than the jacket.

Then he turned back to me, lifting a curious brow, and I simply gaped at him, still thrown by his pleasant, cooperative behavior. Finally, I glanced around the front room, and when I found nothing out of place, I asked, “Where is my grandmother?”

“Off getting refreshments from the kitchen.” He shrugged and grinned good-naturedly as he slipped his hands casually into his pockets. “Or something. She said she’d be right back, anyway. You know, you didn’t have to come all the way over here simply to answer my question; you could’ve just as easily answered via text. I mean, it wasn’t that imperative. I was ninety-five percent certain it was you in the photo, anyway. But I must say, I am impressed. You made pretty good time. It should’ve taken you, what, at least fifteen minutes to get here all the way from the newspaper. You must’ve broken a few speeding limits, you naughty little—”

“Listen here, asshole.” Stepping ominously closer, I glared him straight in the eye and muttered from between gritted teeth. “This is not cool. If you—”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Setting a hand against his heart, he sent me a sympathetic look full of pity. “Does me coming into your safe space feel intrusive and threatening?” The look dropped as he narrowed his eyes right back at me. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Get out,” I growled, grabbing his arm and trying to drag him toward the door. “Get out of my grandmother’s home right now.”

But the damn man dug his heels in. “What? No. Gran’s getting me a plate of her special chocolate chip cookies. Like hell am I missing out on that.”

“They’re Toll House,” I growled, shoving at his arm in frustration when I couldn’t get him to budge. “Made from frozen store-bought dough. You bake them in the oven for twelve minutes and voilà! The secret’s out. So you should just go home and bake your own.”

I opened the door and then manually pushed on him from the back this time.

“Hey!” Brick caught his hand on the doorjamb, stalling my efforts like a cat refusing to go into a cage. “It’d be rude to leave right now. I didn’t even get to tell her goodbye.”

“I’ll tell her something came up, and you had to—”

“Shh.” He set a finger against my lips and evaded my hands by ducking under them to slip back into the apartment. “She’s coming back,” he warned just as I heard footsteps in the hall and floorboards creaking behind me.

Catching my breath, I whirled around just as Gran entered the living room, carrying a metal cookie sheet that had a plate piled full of her Toll House specials on it with a glass full of milk nestled among them.

“Camy!” she greeted in surprise as the door shut quietly behind me and Brick stepped in close enough to barely touch my waist. “I didn’t know you were going to stop by.”

Her gaze warmed with approval as it flittered to Brick’s fingers that were possessively wrapping around my hip, and a sinking feeling landed in my gut, telling me exactly what kind of story he’d fed her.

Elbowing him away, I turned to glare at him in accusation.

The ass had the gall to flinch with adorable yet totally fake apology before he turned his attention to Gran and announced, “I’m afraid that’s my fault. I let her know I was visiting and introducing myself to you without her permission. I probably should’ve guessed she’d come charging right over.” I sent him a hard scowl. He sent back a wicked grin, then turned to Gran. “But now that I’ve met you, Mabel, I can totally understand her jealous insecurity.”

My mouth dropped open. But jealous insecurity? Really?

As I folded my arms over my chest, he added, “With all that allure you have, I bet Camy here can’t leave any of her men alone with you for too long, can she?”

Her men? So he’d honestly told Gran he was my man?

That’s it; I was going to kill him.

The worst thing he could’ve told her was that I had a freaking boyfriend.

And Gran had fallen for it, too, hook, line, and sinker. I could tell from the color blooming across her face as she laughed and set the tray down before picking up the glass of milk. “Oh, you cute, adorable tease, you. I might’ve stolen a boyfriend or two in my day from some undeserving gal, but I’d never do that to my own grandbaby. Here you go, sweetness.”

“Thanks, love,” he told her, his voice deepening as he took the cup and then drank from it deeply. Keeping his gaze fixed on her as he swallowed, he finally lowered the glass to murmur an appreciative, “Mmm. Perfect. You sure know how to hit the spot, don’t you, Mabel?”

Gran giggled—the bastard made her freaking giggle—before she lifted the plate. “Make sure to get a cookie too.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He wiggled his fingers, taking his time to decide which cookie to snatch, when I reached out to grab my own.

Only to get it slapped down by Gran. “Those are for Broderick,” she told me with a stern, reprimanding glance. “I didn’t make enough for you.”

My mouth fell open as I gaped back at her. And next to me, Brick chuckled while he took the biggest cookie from the plate.

After he stuffed a bite into his mouth and was busy chewing and moaning dramatically, I leaned toward my grandmother and murmured, “Milk and cookies, Gran? Really?”

She shrugged and flushed. “What? It seemed like the grandmotherly thing to do.” She nudged my arm with her elbow. “He’s gorgeous; I got flustered. Don’t judge.”

I rolled my eyes. “Haven’t I warned you repeatedly not to let strangers into the apartment?”

She huffed out an exhausted sigh. “But he said he knew you.”

So I lifted my brows and added, “No matter what they tell you.”

“Oh yeah...” Her gaze strayed to Brick and she flushed again, unable to stop grinning when their gazes met. “You did say that, didn’t you? Hmm, I must’ve gotten distracted, and it slipped my mind.”

Brick grinned and said, “Best distraction I’ve had in a long time.” Then he nudged my other arm with his elbow. “Stop being such a worrywart, Mayhem.” And he took another bite, closing his eyes to moan some more. “Oh, damn. Or maybe you should worry. Because I think I’m going to have to throw you over for Mabel after these cookies.”

The two continued to gaze at each other with a deep affection that was frankly beginning to freak me out.

I rolled my eyes and ground my teeth, then muttered, “Can I talk to you a minute? In private.”

“Not now, baby,” my grandmother murmured dazedly as she continued to make babies with her eyes at the younger man. “Gran has company.”

I sighed. “Not you. Him.”

Spell broken, they both blinked and turned to me. “You want to talk to Brick? Whatever for?” Gran asked in surprise. “You know he’s not being serious, right? He and I aren’t really going to fool around behind your back. This is all just in good fun.”

“Yeah, Mayhem.” Brick nudged my arm. Again. “You’re being a fun hater.”

Oh, good God. I couldn’t believe he was playing her so hard right now. Gran was usually so much less gullible than this. She’d been the one to teach me to never trust anything so easily, especially when that person appeared too good to be true. So what the hell was happening here?

“Of course, I know that,” I muttered with an impatient sigh. “Besides, he’s not my b—”

“Well, good,” she cut in firmly and reached past me to grip his arm. “Now, let’s sit, and I can tell you all kinds of embarrassing stories about Camy when she was little.”

“Really? Yes! My favorite kind of story.” Brick snagged another cookie and followed her to the couch, where they sat together. When they looked up expectantly, and Brick even patted a bare section of cushion for me to sit next to him, I narrowed my eyes.

But Gran said, “Camy, be a doll and fetch your baby album, will you?”

I folded my arms over my chest stubbornly. “Gran. This man is a liar. He is not who he told you he was.”

Both people on the couch blinked at me in surprise. Finally, Gran sniffed out an impatient sound while Brick glanced between us and took a bite of his cookie, merely watching the show.

“And just who do you think he told me he was?” my grandmother countered, arching her eyebrows sternly.

“Well, he…” When I realized I could be totally wrong and, in fact, had no idea what he’d actually told her, I glanced his way.

He lifted his brows as well, waiting for me to somehow guess the wrong thing and completely stick my foot in my mouth.

Damn. I couldn’t accurately guess what kind of story he’d fed her, so I gnashed my teeth and spun away to march toward a bookcase, where I pulled down a family album.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this. But what the hell else was I supposed to do? Admit to Gran that I was blackmailing this man into giving me something I wanted. She hadn’t raised me like that. She’d be horrified, and I couldn’t handle her disappointment. But I couldn’t just let this wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing prance in here and hoodwink her into thinking he and I were—

Well, whatever it was that he’d told her we were.

Except that’s exactly what I did as I obediently carried the family album over to the couch and handed it to my grandmother before seating myself next to Brick, who grinned at me and murmured, “Be good, Mayhem, and I might actually share a cookie with you.”

I glared at him and snagged a cookie from his plate before he could stop me. Gran was too busy opening the family album to notice. He shook his head and tsked sadly but didn’t attempt to take it back.

I took a big bite to defy him, but instead of growing vexed, his eyes flared with heat, and his gaze dropped to my mouth as I chewed.

“Crumb,” he whispered as he reached out to swipe his finger gently over my bottom lip, which somehow made my entire body jones for an immediate o****m. I pressed my thighs together and swallowed before I was even finished chewing.

Grinning over the way my eyes watered when chunks of cookie scraped their way down my throat, Brick promptly stuck his crumbed finger between his teeth.

Dear God. I wasn’t going to make it off this couch without making an embarrassing mess of myself, was I?

“Here’s the day Camille was born,” Gran announced on the other side of him, forcing him to tear his attention away from my mouth so he could turn her way.

Studying the shot, he pointed to my parents. “And who’re these two?”

“That’s my i***t louse of a son,” Gran answered with a distracted wave of her hand. “And his first b***h of a wife.”

Brick blinked once before he glanced my way for clarification. I shrugged, letting him know Gran had gotten the description of my parents correct.

“And here she is, taking her first step,” my grandmother went on. “She was only eight months old, the bright little jellybean.”

As she went on, Brick paid rapt attention to everything Gran told him, constantly interrupting to ask questions and learn way more about me than I was comfortable with him knowing.

“This one’s from the day her parents finally split, and she was able to come live with me permanently.”

Great. Now he was going to see that neither my mother nor my father was in any other picture, and he was going to know I’d been abandoned like an old chair they’d taken to the landfill and dropped off forever before forgetting about completely.

As if he already knew that was what had happened, Brick sent me a glance that was full of both sympathy and admiration.

“She’d just broken her arm in this one. In the fifth grade…” Gran was rattling on. “Damn monkey bars at school.”

But he was still looking at me. Slowly he reached up, murmuring, “Wow, when you eat a cookie, you really eat it. You’ve got some chocolate now. Right here.” And he wiped his thumb across my top lip this time before once again bringing it to his own mouth.

I should’ve been prepared, but instead of popping the digit between his teeth, he licked it slowly, making my tummy tighten at the sight of his tongue in action, lapping…repeatedly.

“Her first school dance in seventh grade…”

Brick leaned toward me and whispered, “Don’t worry if that made you wet; it was supposed to.”

I lurched to my feet, unable to take a second more of this.

He lifted his eyebrows innocently and picked up another cookie to take a bite.

“I want to talk to you alone,” I growled from between gritted teeth. “Right now.”

He whistled low in warning before shaking his head and glancing at Gran. “Uh-oh. It sounds like I’m in trouble, Mabel. But what did I do wrong?”

“Maybe she’s worried that I really could stand a chance of stealing you away from her after all.”

“Of course you stand a chance,” he encouraged. “All you gotta do is up your game a little, and I’ll be grandma’s boy for the rest of my life.”

“Well, in that case…” Gran was already pushing up from the couch, her knees creaking as she did. “I’ll go see if any of my old showgirl costumes from when I was a dancer in Vegas still fit.”

As she passed me to hobble from the room, she leaned in to murmur, “You’ve got five minutes, dear.”

Brick laughed huskily, calling, “Can’t wait, darling.” Then he slapped his thigh and shook his head, grinning like mad as he turned to me. “Damn, I like her.”

I grabbed his ear and twisted. Hard. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

“Hey, hey.” He lifted his hands in surrender and tipped his head, following the pressure of my grip before he managed to slip loose and pop to his feet so he could back away warily. “Maybe you should find out if I’m actually into S&M first.” Then the corners of his lips curved up. “I mean, I’m always willing to give it a try. But it’d be nice to be asked first.”

“What…” I pointed at him sternly. “Are you doing inside my grandmother’s home?”

He shrugged, looking all too pleased with himself. “Why do you think I’m here, sweetheart? I’m here to make you sweat.” His gaze turned heated before he added, “I do like to make women sweat, you know.”