Deep in the Heart: An Austin After Dark Book Page 23

  Another round of pounding, followed by curses.

  No one knew where I was.

  I wanted Cam. I needed him right now.

  Nessa screamed my name again. She sobbed for me to pick up, but I simply grunted as the next wave of agony ripped through my abdomen.

  The pounding on the door stopped. I gasped for breath as the tears threatened to choke me. My arms tightened around my waist as I pulled my knees up even tighter to my chest.

  “Dane’s calling 9-1-1, Jen. Can you hear me? Talk to me. Please,” she begged, nearly as hysterical as I was.

  “Someone’s trying to break into my room,” I whispered.

  “What the hell, girl! Can’t you have one crisis at a time!” Nessa’s shriek was drowned out by the crashing wood of the frame. Nessa’s scream was louder than mine because the pain cut mine off mid-holler.

  Cam tripped into the room, cradling his right hand to his heaving chest. His damp hair stuck up in crazy whorls. His eyes roamed wild around the room before settling on me.

  “What have you done to yourself?” he whispered, eyes wide with disbelief.

  “I didn’t do this on purpose.”

  He picked me up, grunting as I jostled into his arms. I writhed as another stabbing pain lanced through my middle. “Stopping wiggling, sugar. My hand’s broke and hurts like the devil. My shoulder’s not much better since I used it on the door.”

  “Put me down. Stop it, Camden! I can’t go anywhere with you.”

  “Cam’s there?” Nessa’s voice blared through the speaker. “I can’t keep up with the drama.” She sounded exhausted, maybe winded.

  “I don’t want to go with him!” I yelled at the phone. “Don’t let him take me!”

  “How am I supposed to stop him?” Nes yelled back. “I’m in Seattle!”

  “We’re going to the hospital, you loon. You’re obviously hemorrhaging.”

  He hoisted me into his truck, grunting either because of his hand or his calf.

  Another spasm hit and I bit my lip, whimpering. “I’ll mess up your truck.”

  “Christ and all the saints, woman! I don’t care about the upholstery. I care about you.”

  The pain that hit this time caused lights to flash in front of my eyes and my ears to ring.

  I must have passed out because next thing I knew I was in a hospital bed, two IVs in my arm. I turned my aching head to see Cam sitting beside the bed, his dark head bowed and his right hand splinted and wrapped in gauze.

  He lifted his head and stared at me, his face haggard and his eyes red.

  “Before you say one damn thing, hear me: I love you, Jenna Marie Olsen. I. Love. You.”

  I bit my lip. “I lost the baby.”

  Cam shook his head, his eyes never leaving mine. “Didn’t.”

  I scowled. “I hemorrhaged.” I shifted my legs. “I still have blood on my thighs.”

  “True, but you had a cyst pop. You didn’t lose the baby.” He closed those beautiful eyes, his lashes brushing his cheek. “You were never pregnant. And that’s a damn shame.”

  “I wasn’t pregnant?” That loss hit me as hard as the thought of miscarrying.

  Cam shook his head. “Why am I so sad over a baby we never even created?” He opened his eyes and stared hard at me. “I want that with you. Babies. The ring, wedding, whole white-and-lace enchilada.”

  “Wait.” My breathing escalated. “I’m still on the not-pregnant-but-hemorrhaging part.”

  His lip flipped up for a millisecond. “Only you, sugar. Damn good thing I’m so good in pressure situations. Because a lifetime with you would kill an average man. In his grave by forty.”

  “You love me. I’m not pregnant. I hemorrhaged. You broke your hand.”

  Cam looked down at his bandaged wrist. “Yep. Hurts like a son of a gun.”

  “So, I’m not the only one who had trauma tonight?”

  “You’re almost always the only one with trauma. And I love you.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Neither of us is broken?”

  Cam shook his head. “Not too bad, anyway.”

  “And you love me?”

  He nodded.

  “Anything else to add to that?”

  “Yep. I laid out the issue to my fans at the ACL performance last night. Told ‘em I planned to retire completely if they didn’t accept us, together.”

  “Cam—”

  “I’ll show you the clip later. It’s got over five million views on YouTube. Not bad for less than four hours.”

  “Cam, you can’t give up your career. I don’t want you to do that.”

  He leaned in again, his fingertips lingering on my cheek. “I don’t have to. My fans have been snatching up songs, albums, merch, you name it. I’m hotter than I was yesterday, mainly thanks to you.”

  “Me?”

  Maybe I was still dehydrated or low on blood or whatever. But I was struggling to keep up with Cam’s revelations.

  “Yes, you. My fans love how much I love you—what I’m willing to give up for you. And they think you make one helluva guitar.”

  “Um.”

  “But they’re also willing to forgive now that the rest of Ben’s crazy came out. Jesus, Jenna. You have to keep me in the loop.”

  “What are you talking about?” I whispered.

  “Right. It’s been all over the news the past couple of hours. Ben was walking toward your parents’ house just as your dad was driving home. Ben had a gun.”

  I nodded. The police had told us before he had a concealed-carry permit.

  “Anyway, Ben and your dad got in an argument. Ben shot at the car or your dad—it’s unclear—and your dad mowed Ben down. Stopped the vehicle soon as he hit him, took his gun, and called the cops.”

  “Wow.” I stared up at Cam, stunned. “What does that mean?”

  “Means your dad isn’t going to be charged with attempted murder. It was clearly self-defense. And Ben is being charged with hitting your Pop-pop with his car and with assault with a deadly weapon. He’s going to jail, sugar. For a long time.”

  “Really?” I asked. “But…I don’t understand. Why did they hold me all day, then?”

  “Because your father didn’t stick around to wait for the ambulance. Based on Ben’s injuries, they assumed a hit-and-run. But Ben’s story matched your father’s.”

  I did my best to wrap my head around all this new information. “Ben admitted it?”

  Cam nodded.

  “And Dad’s not in trouble?” I asked.

  Cam hesitated. “Not as much trouble, anyway. Him leaving’s a sticking point with the police.”

  I swallowed, trying to process the situation. “What did my dad mean, he did it for me?”

  Cam’s face contorted with rage. “Seems like Ben was still planning something nasty.”

  “He wanted to kill me,” I said on a sigh.

  “Yeah.”

  “What caused him to lose it like that?” I asked.

  Cam pressed his lips together. “Don’t know. Not really. Seems like his getting cut from the ball club and his wife cheating with another player—the star player—didn’t sit too well. Maybe you were just the target of all that rage.”

  “That’s…” Words failed me because this whole situation was messed up. “Shit on sugar toast.”

  Cam cracked a smile at my muttered words. “Enough about him. Your dad’s got some more legal stuff to work through, but I’ve got my people on it now, too. And just so we’re clear: I plan to marry you, Jenna Marie. Soon’s I can. I need to take care of you, see.”

  My mouth fell open. “What? But you said…” I slammed my lips together. “I’m not a good bet.”

  Cam chuckled. “Sugar, you are many, many things, and a good bet has never been one of them. And still I love you. So much I couldn’t breathe when you disappeared on me.” He tilted his head forward and stared straight into my eyes. “Don’t pull that stunt again.”

  “But your label…”

  “Doesn’t get to te
ll me what to do. And while I can still make music without a label contract, there’s only one you. Now, I’ll tell you one more time. I love you, Jenna. Got anything to say back?”

  I stared into his eyes for a long minute. “I love you, Camden Grace.”

  This time, his smile lit up his eyes. “’Bout time you got with the show.” He gestured to my left hand. “Ring’s already on and I posted pictures to Instagram and Facebook. The world gave us their blessing. And that was before the whole story with Ben came out.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Were you planning to actually ask me?”

  “I did ask you. And you said yes.”

  “Was I drugged?”

  “Heavily,” he said in a cheerful voice.

  “Cam. I cannot deal with joking. I’m in a hospital bed. Again.”

  He sat up straight. “All right. I didn’t ask you yet. But I will, and I plan to do it properly.” His fingers shook as he touched the ring. “I bought this ring weeks ago.” His voice softened to a near-whisper.

  Galloping cane toads. This man.

  “You did?” I stuttered.

  “Before I met you in Seattle.”

  I was surprised the machines didn’t start beeping a warning because my heart melted into goo.

  “I put the ring on your finger to remind us both of permanence. Of accepting each other’s best and worst. You’re grieving and I… I love you. So damn much you make my teeth ache and my guts crawl. I love you so much I can’t think of anything but keeping you happy and safe. I love you, sugar, because you’re kind and thoughtful, sensitive and hardworking. I love you because you always think about my feelings first.”

  He paused for breath. “I didn’t want you to make that choice, Cam.” I raised a shaky hand and laid it against his cheek. “I never wanted you to be forced into something. Not because of me.”

  He pressed a kiss to my palm before he clasped it in his good one, lowering both our hands to the bed.

  “I want to marry you and raise some hell-raising, crazy kids with you. Many as you want. I want to see your hands nicked and scarred from your work. I want to hold you all night, every night. I want to kiss you at five a.m. and five p.m. I just plain need you much as I need air. Jenna, will you marry me?”

  I nodded because the words wouldn’t come. Then I launched myself at him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders with a gasp as the tears streamed down my face.

  “You sure I didn’t miscarry?” I said into his shoulder.

  “I’m sure. The doctor said you’re just fine. Healthy as a horse and ten times as pretty.”

  “I love you, Cam. I…I thought the best thing I could do was get out of your life, and that hurt.”

  He rocked me back and forth. “I need to do a better job showing you that you don’t need to worry.” He dropped a kiss on my forehead. “You going to look at your ring?”

  “Later.” I pressed my lips to his. Cam growled, his tongue stroking mine in long, leisurely swipes that said we had all day, all year—a lifetime.

  I answered him, clung to him. Loved him.

  Until the nurse came into the room and yelped, “What do you think you’re doing?”

  32

  Cam

  I pulled back just enough to look in Jenna’s red, puffy, luminous eyes. “Kissing my bride-to-be.”

  “Oh,” the nurse whispered, her voice all breathy. “That’s so sweet.” She turned to Jenna, and as she checked Jenna’s vitals, the nurse leaned in closer to whisper, “What he did for you was real romantic.”

  “I haven’t seen it,” Jenna whispered back.

  “If I were you, I’d keep it on repeat,” the nurse said, her cheeks staining bright red as she peeked at me.

  I leaned back and winked at the petite brunette. I chuckled when Jenna’s grip tightened. Like I was ever going to get anything better from another gal. Nope, this one here—even as sickly as she was with that rat’s nest hair—was my everything.

  I settled into the chair and let Jenna chat with her nurse. She had a lot of questions, some of which the nurse couldn’t answer. That was all right. I understood her prognosis—best as a non-medical person could, I expect.

  Her mama would be here soon to talk it all over, and we’d visit with Jenna’s dad once she was able to travel.

  “Nessa’s called at least five hundred times.”

  “Okay,” Jenna said.

  “She’s happy you agreed to marry me. Said it should cut back on the drama.”

  Jenna settled back into her pillows.

  “I talked to my manager. We’re going to take a trip up to Seattle soon as you’re ready. I’ll have to do the shows he’s lined up. That’ll take us through the fall. But then we’re going to do something nice and relaxing. Just us. And I talked to Katie Rose. She’s already put it on your schedule in red indelible marker.”

  “You two okay?” Jenna asked with a yawn. “How’s she taking her dad’s changed role?”

  “We’re working on it. Just like you and I need to work on some details.”

  Jenna smiled—that bright, white, All-American cheerleader grin I’d missed. “Promise?”

  “Yep.”

  I cupped her hand gently, my thumb resting on her pulse, steadying my own heart rate as I ticked off each beat of hers.

  I loved the comfort of her skin against mine. Of us, taking on the world.

  Of knowing, this time, I’d chosen a woman who would love me as I loved her: with all my heart and every bit of my broken, piecemeal soul.

  “I’m still a lava-monster mess, Cam.”

  “So am I. A right hot one that almost lost you forever because of it. Not a lesson I’ll forget. Ever.”

  “Because you love me.”

  “I do.” I bent down to press my lips to hers again.

  “So, we’ll be okay.”

  “We will.”

  I clasped her hand tighter in mine, admiring the sparkle of the large diamond I’d shoved unceremoniously on her finger earlier. No way I wasn’t getting all the information I could from the hospital staff and only way to do that was as her fiancé. Good thing I’d taken to carrying the damn thing with me.

  I rubbed my fingers over her knuckles, loving her white, rough hands. I turned her palm over and pressed a kiss there.

  I’d propose again—with tons of romance to knock Jenna on her butt. I’d hold her and help her, just as I wanted, not as I’d fought with myself to do before. I kissed her soft, red lips before staring into her blue eyes.

  “We’ll be okay,” I murmured. “That I can promise you.”

  Acknowledgments

  Daqri Bernardo of Covers by Combs created the delightful cover for this book and this series. You made something special, Daqri, and I thank you!

  Thank you, Sarah Allan, for your military expertise as well as your detailed comments in the manuscript. I really enjoy working with you.

  To Deborah Nemeth, thank you for helping me take this manuscript from a decent premise to a novel I’m proud to have written.

  Thanks to Charity Chimni for her time and amazing proofreading skills.

  And, as always, to Chris. You help me in so many ways. Thank you for all that you do (and for putting up with my crazy all these years).

  About the Author

  With a degree in international marketing and a varied career path that includes content management for a web firm, marketing direction for a high-profile sports agency, and a two-year stint with a renowned literary agency, Alexa Padgett has returned to her first love: writing fiction.

  Alexa spent a good part of her youth traveling. From Budapest to Belize, Calgary to Coober Pedy, she soaked in the myriad smells, sounds, and feels of these gorgeous places, wishing she could live in them all—at least for a while. And she does in her books.

  She lives in New Mexico with her husband, children, and Great Pyrenees pup, Ash. When not writing, schlepping, or volunteering, she can be found in her tiny kitchen, channeling her inner Barefoot Contessa.

  Al
so by Alexa Padgett

  Like free books? Sign up for my newsletter to get freebies, excerpts and first dibs on other great writerly stuff.

  http://www.alexapadgett.com

  Here’s an excerpt of Broken Rose of Texas, An Austin After Dark Book #2, which will be available in Spring 2019.

  Chapter One

  Regan

  I glared at the shimmering neon rocket with building trepidation. My body hummed with a restless energy that shimmied through my nerve-endings, making me jumpy.

  “You sure about this?” I asked.

  I mean, I’d heard of The Blue Bar and wanted to attend a live show here for ages, but the crowded parking lot and long entrance line worried me. So did the clench low in my gut.

  That feeling I hadn’t been able to shake since my father’s message two days earlier. The one I ignored—just like the message before and the message before that.

  “You said you wanted to kick back with some great tunes. This is the place to do that in Denver.”

  I turned my head to study Mindy. Her short, dark ringlets rioted around her head in that sexy, I-just-got-out-of-bed look men adored. Her large hazel eyes popped more than usual, thanks to the smoky shadow, and her glossed lips turned up in happiness.

  Mindy deserved happy. I sighed, knowing I was going to end up wishing I’d stayed in the hotel room. Not even the lure of fantastic music could allay the fear that something…something terrible would happen tonight.

  We walked in, getting the typical VIP treatment that made me cringe even as it made Mindy preen. Sometimes I wondered why she couldn’t be the performer and I the assistant.

  But Mindy didn’t have the compulsion to lay all her pain out in lyrics, set to throbbing beats. No, that was my way of handling my formative years.

  Not sure my form of therapy was healthy, but there you go. And lots of people were willing to pay to hear more about my pre-pop-queen life.

  I smiled and posed for about twenty selfies before we made it into the actual bar. A waitress met us and led the way to a nice table stationed off to one side. Yeah, The Blue Bar staff were professionals when it came to the glitterati.