A Hunted Man (The Men of Halfway House) (7 page)

"Hey, what's this?" he asked, looking over to Bill.

"What?" Bill asked with an
I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about
expression.

Cam grinned. "This," he said, pointing at the machine.

"That thing?" Bill's face scrunched. "It's the devil incarnate."

Cameron laughed. "C'mon, it can't be that bad."

Bill looked at him incredulously. "If you can figure it out, then it's all yours."

"Huh?"

Bill wiped his hands on the towel tucked at his waist and walked over to Cam. "Lucy's got the cookies and baked stuff, I've got the sandwiches, so if you want to handle this"—Bill waved at the machine with a strained expression on his face—"then you can be the coffee guy."

Cameron was taken aback. To the average everyday person it may have sounded boring or menial. Not to Cam. The fact that he would actually be
the
coffee guy actually mattered. It meant he would be responsible for something, take ownership of tasks, and be part of their little duo, contributing something neither one of them took part in.

"Deal," he said enthusiastically.

"Great. Don't come crying later with steam burns. I'll just say I told ya so," Bill yelled over his shoulder as he walked to the back room.

"Don't mind him," Lucy said with a wave of disregard. "We've got all the supplies over in that cabinet and we've got some of those fancy oversized mugs that were supposed to be for this machine."

"Thank you," he said quietly. Sam had mentioned something called YouTube that might be helpful in getting up to speed with learning a few things. Maybe they'd have something on how to do the fancy coffees and work a machine like the steam-hissing demon Bill avoided. He knew better than to dive right in and guess his way through the steps, knowing Bill's sentiments about the machine.

"What the hell? We have a closet back here?" Bill shouted from the back room.

Cameron and Lucy laughed. He'd only been here for a few hours and was comfortable with them. He never let his guard down so easily but there was something parental about them he craved.

He spent the morning working the cash register when needed, moving all the boxes from the front to the back room and making sure the main dining area was spotless. He had called Julian and asked about installing a few shelves in the closet and getting a single or two-step step stool at the store for Lucy and Bill to help reach the upper shelves. Julian arrived less than an hour later and started installing the shelving in the closet. Cam hoped to have most of the boxes cleared out and packed away by the end of the day.

He was happy to be busy. He'd smile whenever he looked up and saw the sunlight stream in from the windows surrounding the diner and the people racing up and down the street. He was finally free.

* * * *

Hunter looked at his watch and decided to take a break from the mountain of casework. He stuffed a few files into his bag and headed out of his office. "Jess, I'm off to lunch," he said as he passed his assistant's desk.

He walked into his favorite diner and breathed a sigh of relief as he got a whiff of freshly baked cookies.

"Afternoon, Hunter. Turkey today?"

He nodded. "Thanks, Bill."

Something was different. Incredibly different than yesterday it seemed. He looked around casually and observed the changes.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but this is probably the cleanest I've ever seen this place. You got rid of the boxes and…wait a minute, is that an espresso machine back there?" Hunter said with a wicked grin.

Bill scowled. "Don't you start with me on that, too. We've got a coffee guy, you can hound him about it," he said then focused on finishing the sandwich.

"Coffee guy?" he asked with piqued interest.

"Yeah, he started today. He's out back with Lucy rearranging her workspace." Bill walked over to the register with the sandwich on a tray and filled a cup with coffee with the usual mix. "I know you hate this stuff."

Hunter feigned offense. "I don't hate your stuff."

Bill laughed. "I don't know how you do it in court because you're a horrible liar. I know you hate my coffee. It's the only explanation for someone having that much cream and sugar with a tiny splash of coffee in it."

Hunter squirmed. "I do love your sandwiches," he said as he bent to view the display of baked goods, hoping to hide his embarrassment in the process.

"Good save. Maybe our coffee guy can figure out how to make a coffee you like that is actually coffee and not some sugar lava. Hey, Cam," Bill yelled.

"Yeah, Bill."

Hunter closed his eyes as the smooth voice unexpectedly weakened him. He felt as if he'd just been punched in the gut…repeatedly, then kicked in the balls a few times for good measure. Those two simple words in that firm yet silky tone attacked every muscle in his body.

He opened his eyes and tried to calm his racing pulse. Thank God for the clear glass that allowed him to peer through and watch the casual gait of the man as he approached, then turned to face the older, obviously shorter man. Hunter was hypnotized, tracing the perfect curve of the ass in profile, showcased for him through the dessert display case.
How appropriate
. Hunter took a deep breath and slowly straightened from his bent position to meet the new hire.

He froze.

Hunter raked his gaze up the man's body, wishing the guy had worn a tighter shirt that would leave less to the imagination. He was young, a hair under six feet and lean with just the right amount of muscle. Hunter's vivid imagination ran wild as he scanned every inch of this man and his pale skin. He glanced upward to see the dark, sandy brown hair hang lazily over the man's eyes. Hunter's gaze halted once it was met with the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen staring back at him.

* * * *

Well, hello there. Now there's a treat.

Cam looked into piercing silver eyes that seemed to burrow through his soul.

Damn that's hot.

He hated being under scrutiny while in prison, but for some reason, the way this man looked at him unleashed a surge of desire he had difficulty reining in. And for once, he loved being the focus of that much intensity.

The guy was a wall of a man, well over six feet tall and broad shoulders to boot. Not beautiful or a pretty boy, but slightly older and ruggedly handsome like a refined tough guy who filled out the suit quite nicely without overdoing it. He was a contradiction. He looked polished in a finely tailored suit and his closely cropped dark hair. Yet, he exuded a vibe that he would clearly get down and dirty if needed to kick ass. He didn't look like he took shit from anyone. The entire package was just sexy as hell.

"Cam, this is Hunter. He's a regular here and will probably get one of those fancy coffees from that demonic machine. I'll get that," Bill added the last when he heard the phone ring.

They stood, immobile, staring at each other. Cam's heart pounded wildly in his chest. He'd learned how to switch off the feelings of desire, want, and any sort of sexual interest that would get someone in some serious trouble while
inside
. Somehow, all that self-control he had managed to master during the last ten years flew out the diner window when he set eyes on this man.

"Hi, Hunter," Lucy said, instantly breaking the trance between them.

"Hi, Lucy," the man responded in a raspy voice that sent another bolt of desire straight to Cam's groin, triggering a moan to escape.

Hunter's vision immediately snapped back to Cam, and his eye color changed from pale silver to a rich, molten gray.

"Cam, Bill is moving things in the closet you just organized. Would you mind stopping him before he messes it up?" she finished with a shy, pleading grin.

Cam half smiled to Lucy then nodded to Hunter. There was no way he could get a single word out of his mouth with the tightness in his chest and throat at the moment. He could barely walk a straight line with the raging hard-on in his pants. He retreated to the back thankful to have escaped any potential embarrassment.

After he recovered and managed to convince Bill to stay out of the storage closet to reorganize everything, he walked back out to the front.

Every hair on his body rose, his skin tingled. He was being watched.

His heart raced and his palms began to sweat.

He looked around frantically until his gaze froze on the silver stare intently focused on him. Hunter sat in a corner, papers scattered in front of him, sipping his coffee as he watched Cam. He couldn't look away. The hypnotic state was broken when Hunter flinched and set the coffee cup down on the table, staring at it with a sneer.

Cameron chuckled as he wrapped his apron on again and immediately welcomed the next customer waiting in line. After he finished with the patrons and their orders, he wiped down the counter. His gaze absently strayed to the man in the corner. Hunter was intently focused on the papers in front of him when his phone rang. He mouthed a few words before he ended the call then stood and started packing his things.

With a short wave good-bye and a quick stride, Hunter exited the diner.

Mr. Hot Guy was a regular, so he'd have eye candy to look at every day while he worked in the diner. The job was good before, and it was starting to get pretty damn amazing.

After spending endless afternoon hours at the diner reading the manual and testing each dial, handle, gauge, and spout, Cam was a little more comfortable at least knowing how each item worked on the machine. He'd figured out what to do to avoid a steam burn and how long the milk needed to steam to get to the right temperature. He had practiced and learned as much as he could until Julian arrived to pick him up. Now he just needed to learn how to actually put it all together to be able to handle working everything with the morning crowd.

"How was your first day," Matt asked as Cam walked in the door of the halfway house.

"Good but weird."

"Why weird?" Matt asked curiously.

Cam shrugged. "I'm not used to interacting with so many people. I tried, and I think I did okay, but it's just a bit…I don't know…weird."

He wasn't ready to openly admit he tried to gauge which people were harmless and which were ones he needed to be careful with. He found it a little easier to interact with women, but the male customers—they were different. He wasn't sure if what he said would be misunderstood or what was the appropriate way to act around them in that type of setting. He kept things as professional as he should be, but always on guard.

He was a little more relaxed around those customers Lucy and Bill declared as regulars, but the others, not so much. He couldn't ignore the feeling that, somehow, the ghosts from his past would find out he was free and try to get him back into prison.

Then there was Hunter. The man just threw him off balance. The way he looked, those eyes, that stare, the slight hint of cologne he wore, and the smooth, deep,
sexy-as-fuck
voice.
Shit.
Just the thought of everything made him light-headed with the blood shifting to other parts of his body.

"It's a big change. I'm sure you did fine," Matt assured him.

Cam remembered what he needed to do. "Do you have a computer I can use?"

Matt nodded. "Anything in particular you need?"

"Do you have that YouTube thing on there? Sam said it was a good place to learn how to do things. I'm going to be doing the non-traditional coffee stuff at the diner and I wanted to see how some other people do it before I start on this stuff tomorrow."

Matt beamed. "Sure, c'mon," he said as he excitedly guided Cam to his office. He sat Cam down at his desk and launched a browser.

"Thanks."

"Just enter whatever you want to search for and there's probably some video on it," he finished then exited.

Cameron searched through videos, watched several, and took notes on tips of things to absolutely avoid. "What…the…hell," he mumbled when he encountered a video on latte art. That elevated plain, boring coffee to something downright extraordinary. He watched video after video on various pouring techniques and designs. Hell, if he could learn how to do this, it would be like creating a piece of art with each coffee he poured.

First, the thought of being responsible for something on his own, and now, the chance to actually create something different. Prison didn't require him to lead, manage, think, decide, or create anything. His pulse began to race and his chest tightened. He looked to his right. He needed to see the sunlight seeping into the window.

It's not a dream. I'm free.

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He wanted to give this new start a chance. He wanted to know what it felt like to laugh openly, to try something new, to just be normal again…even if only for a short time.

He exhaled heavily. He was tired of letting these ghosts get the best of him. However short-lived this chance at freedom was, he was going to try to enjoy it. Savor it for the treat that it was. And if he was able to benefit from a little eye candy, then he would certainly take advantage of that as well.