her hair on one of its decorative buttons.
Without a word he stepped forward and freed her hair. Her head surfaced, and one of the metal buttons clinked to the tile floor, rolling under the rack she'd been foraging through for the last fifteen minutes while she waited for Ellie. Now she'd have to buy the darn thing.
"What are you doing, Cameron?"
She coughed to calm the swell of fluttery butterflies and deranged sparrows in her belly. She'd been gone for days, but still, just looking at him turned her brain to aspic. "I'm shopping."
He gave her a quizzical scan. "And what in hell is that?" He nodded at her mesh encased torso, silver spandexed legs, and metal-studded calf-hugging boots. "You look like a piece of space junk."
"Really," she said, her voice nicely icy. "Thank you. I like it, too."
"I didn't say I liked it."
"No, you didn't, but that doesn't necessarily mean you don't, does it? Seems to me you have a talent for saying one thing and doing another." She stepped to the other side of the rack, careful to keep it between them. She needed all the protection she could get. If he touched her she was a goner. As added insurance she took a hanger from the rack, held it up and made a pretense of considering it. It was an off-shoulder white tee, with the words Love Me splashed across the front.
Cal eyed the shirt. "Now that I like," he said, adding, "We need to talk, Ginger."
She studied the tee rather than study Cal. She kinda liked it. It had attitude. "So talk. I've got all the time in the world to listen. I'm not the one who's leaving town."
"Neither am I."
He said it so softly, the words were registering just as she added, "I'm not the one who sold a business—a life—I loved because somebody opened a wallet and"—she lifted her eyes to meet his—"you're not?"
"No, I'm not." He walked around the rack to stand facing her.
"Not what?"
"I'm not leaving and I'm definitely not selling Cinema Neo."
"You aren't?"
"No. Selling was my brother's idea—and a lousy one—and when he laid it on me, I had to move fast or lose everything. Which meant getting to L.A. pronto." He paused. "The good news is that I've got a new partner. Hud."
"Hudson Blaine?"
"Uh-huh. He took Ian's position, and he's given me three years to buy him out. It's a good deal for him and a good deal for me." He took the tee from her and laid it over the rack, then took her hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. "But not calling you was a mistake. I'm sorry." He lifted his eyes to hers. "Really."
Ginger wasn't quite ready to concede. "I'm not getting this sudden change of heart, Beaumann." She tried to back off, but her boot-encased feet refused to move.
He shook his dark head. "There's been no change of heart, Ginger. Mine's belonged to you since you walked into my office wearing a burlap suit and nun's shoes."
She couldn't take her eyes off him. And that soft buttery sensation in the middle of her chest told her she was falling again, toppling like one of those duck silhouettes in a shooting gallery. "I'm not sure I believe you," she said.
"Yes, you do," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and dipping his head to look into her eyes. "I'm in love with you, Ginger. Always will be."
"You will?" Oh, goddess, she was squeaking like a mouse trapped in a cornflake box. Cal loved her.
"Which means I want this relationship to go exclusive." His voice was quiet. "You okay with that?"
The world stopped and Ginger's lungs imploded. Fortunately, she managed a tiny intake of breath and a bit of oxygen filtered into her numbed brain. She hoped he didn't see her swallow. She picked up the Love-me tee and slipped it off the hanger and over her arm. "I should say no," she mumbled, not doing so well with the hard-to-get act.
He grinned. "Any sane woman would."
"I'm still mad at you."
"I figured that."
"You have a lot of explaining to do."
"Probably take a lifetime to do it." His grin was devilish.
She gave him as level a gaze as she
Without a word he stepped forward and freed her hair. Her head surfaced, and one of the metal buttons clinked to the tile floor, rolling under the rack she'd been foraging through for the last fifteen minutes while she waited for Ellie. Now she'd have to buy the darn thing.
"What are you doing, Cameron?"
She coughed to calm the swell of fluttery butterflies and deranged sparrows in her belly. She'd been gone for days, but still, just looking at him turned her brain to aspic. "I'm shopping."
He gave her a quizzical scan. "And what in hell is that?" He nodded at her mesh encased torso, silver spandexed legs, and metal-studded calf-hugging boots. "You look like a piece of space junk."
"Really," she said, her voice nicely icy. "Thank you. I like it, too."
"I didn't say I liked it."
"No, you didn't, but that doesn't necessarily mean you don't, does it? Seems to me you have a talent for saying one thing and doing another." She stepped to the other side of the rack, careful to keep it between them. She needed all the protection she could get. If he touched her she was a goner. As added insurance she took a hanger from the rack, held it up and made a pretense of considering it. It was an off-shoulder white tee, with the words Love Me splashed across the front.
Cal eyed the shirt. "Now that I like," he said, adding, "We need to talk, Ginger."
She studied the tee rather than study Cal. She kinda liked it. It had attitude. "So talk. I've got all the time in the world to listen. I'm not the one who's leaving town."
"Neither am I."
He said it so softly, the words were registering just as she added, "I'm not the one who sold a business—a life—I loved because somebody opened a wallet and"—she lifted her eyes to meet his—"you're not?"
"No, I'm not." He walked around the rack to stand facing her.
"Not what?"
"I'm not leaving and I'm definitely not selling Cinema Neo."
"You aren't?"
"No. Selling was my brother's idea—and a lousy one—and when he laid it on me, I had to move fast or lose everything. Which meant getting to L.A. pronto." He paused. "The good news is that I've got a new partner. Hud."
"Hudson Blaine?"
"Uh-huh. He took Ian's position, and he's given me three years to buy him out. It's a good deal for him and a good deal for me." He took the tee from her and laid it over the rack, then took her hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. "But not calling you was a mistake. I'm sorry." He lifted his eyes to hers. "Really."
Ginger wasn't quite ready to concede. "I'm not getting this sudden change of heart, Beaumann." She tried to back off, but her boot-encased feet refused to move.
He shook his dark head. "There's been no change of heart, Ginger. Mine's belonged to you since you walked into my office wearing a burlap suit and nun's shoes."
She couldn't take her eyes off him. And that soft buttery sensation in the middle of her chest told her she was falling again, toppling like one of those duck silhouettes in a shooting gallery. "I'm not sure I believe you," she said.
"Yes, you do," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and dipping his head to look into her eyes. "I'm in love with you, Ginger. Always will be."
"You will?" Oh, goddess, she was squeaking like a mouse trapped in a cornflake box. Cal loved her.
"Which means I want this relationship to go exclusive." His voice was quiet. "You okay with that?"
The world stopped and Ginger's lungs imploded. Fortunately, she managed a tiny intake of breath and a bit of oxygen filtered into her numbed brain. She hoped he didn't see her swallow. She picked up the Love-me tee and slipped it off the hanger and over her arm. "I should say no," she mumbled, not doing so well with the hard-to-get act.
He grinned. "Any sane woman would."
"I'm still mad at you."
"I figured that."
"You have a lot of explaining to do."
"Probably take a lifetime to do it." His grin was devilish.
She gave him as level a gaze as she
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