Prescription For Love (The Kingsley Series) (28 page)

"And?"
Mac texted back.

"I think I'm in. I'm ready. I wanna do it."

"... um, I just choked on my tongue. What?"

The room erupted in laughter, and Cameron shook her head. "Men," she grumbled. Bending over the counter again, she typed,
"You knucklehead, I meant I want to meet Logan. I'm ready."
She clicked send and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, he answered.
"OMG, REALLY?!? YES!"

***

Walking into the gloom of the pizza joint Mac had given her directions to, Cameron breathed in the smells of grease and meat, melted cheese and garlic butter. Justin Bieber was on the sound system, and as he crooned the lyrics to "As Long As You Love Me," Cameron gave her eyes time to adjust to the lack of light.

"How the heck do they cook in here?" she muttered to herself, catching sight of Mac's wide shoulders at a table in the back of the room. He saw her; leaning forward to say something to the boy in front of him, Mac stood and approached her.

"Hey, you found it!" He said, laughing as he took her hand.

"Found it," she said weakly. "Do I look okay? Cool enough to not, like, cramp his style or whatever?"

Standing back, Mac looked Cameron over, his blue eyes taking in the wild length of her curly brown hair, the nervous expression on her face as she bit her lip. Traveling lower, he took in the blue t-shirt that stopped a few inches above her waist, accented across the chest in white with the phrase "hey you". She was accented, too, around her hips by the white tank she wore underneath, adding length to her top and extending down to cover the waist of her jeans. Simple black boots completed the casual but fashionable look.

"You look good to me," Mac said.

"Okay, good, because he's already seen me," Cameron breathed, frozen in place with her eyes over Mac's shoulder. She lifted a hand and waved; Mac turned in time to see his son grin and wave back. His smile was short-lived, shy in appearance. As Cameron and Mac approached the scarred table, she took him in; his hair was cropped close to his head, dark with ends that were nearly blonde. His eyes were just as entrancing as his father’s, though they were nearly black in the dim light of the room. She'd seen photos of him, with his mother's dark brown eyes, flecked throughout with green and gold. He was a beautiful boy.

"Hey, Logan," Cameron said, forcing more cheer into her voice than she was feeling. She was determined not to show him how uneasy she was, hoping that if she could manufacture some confidence with him, he might have genuine confidence in her. "I'm Cameron."

He looked up, quietly inspecting her, his mouth thin, his face thoughtful. "I'm Logan," he said, "but you know my name already. I knew yours, too. You're very pretty." He ducked his head, lifting a garlic breadstick from his plate and biting into it. Grinning, he glanced at her from under a fringe of dark lashes.

"So," she said, easing into the booth opposite the boy. She was temporarily annoyed with Mac for leaving her alone with Logan in order to go get her a drink, but determined to stick it out and make it work. "You want to tell me about you? Your dad wants us to get to know each other, and he's showed me lots of pictures of you. But I'd like to hear about you from you, I think."

Logan laughed. "What do you want to know?" he asked.

Approaching the table, Mac halted. Cameron hadn't seen him returning to the table yet, and he stood back to watch her interact with his boy. Her face had relaxed, and Logan must be in his comedy mode; she'd just thrown her head back to laugh at something the kid had said. A smile played at his lips; he'd been able to pretend for years that he didn't long for a wife again, that he didn't fantasize about a mother for his son. But watching Cameron sit and laugh with his little boy, Mac couldn't deny it. He missed the feeling of completeness that a woman brought to his life.

She looked up, still smiling, and as her eyes met his, her smile froze. Her face softened; she nodded slightly, and Mac released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He left the empty booth he'd stopped behind, walking back to the table. Sliding in next to his son, he placed Cameron's soda in front of her.

"And now," he said, nudging Logan's ribs with his elbow, "we have to convince her to eat real food instead of salad."

"Convince me?" Cameron taunted. "Convince me! I don't know about your dad, but I bet I can out-pizza you any day, small fry." She winked at Logan, snagging a breadstick from the platter in the center of the table. Taking a giant bite of the soft, buttery garlic bread gave her a reason not to talk, and helped her distract herself from how unsettling it was to sit across from Mac and his son together. They were a family, he and his boy. Could she fit into the easy relationship they appeared to have? Would she survive the heartache if it didn’t work out?

"I can do it faster," Logan challenged, his eyes glinting devilishly as he stuffed half of a breadstick in his own mouth, mumbling around the mouth full of bread.

Mac shook his head, covering Logan’s overflowing mouth with his hand. "I swear he does have table manners," he said.

Cameron laughed, swallowing the bite of bread she'd been chewing. "I think he's charming. It's you who needs practice, daddy Mac." She winked again, waving a hand at Logan. "He just stuffed half a breadstick in that trap of his. And you haven't eaten anything. You holding out for salad?"

Mac's eyes widened, twinkling at Cameron's unusually teasing mood. She tipped her head in challenge, and he laughed as Logan dissolved into giggles beside him. "Salad," he muttered, watching Logan reach for a piece of the pizza that had already been delivered. "I'm just waiting for them to deliver the man pizza I ordered. This pepperoni stuff is for shrimps."

"Br-arrgh!" Logan exclaimed around the bite of pizza he'd just taken.

"What exactly is a 'man pizza?'" Cameron asked, mocking playfully. Propping her chin on her hand, Cameron gave Mac her full attention, hoping the sexual heat she was feeling wasn't apparent to his son. There was just something extra sexy about watching him with Logan, the easy way they laughed together, the way they exchanged looks or smiles with each other. It was apparent that Logan loved and respected his father, which only served to add to Mac's appeal.

"'Man pizza,'" Mac said, leaning forward to meet her gaze, "is hot and meaty, and gooey, but has added benefits. It's also highly nutritious." His gaze told her that he could see where her thoughts had gone, and that his thoughts were as much in the gutter as hers were. Heat flowed over her, down her shoulders and arms, tingling over her breasts and down her stomach. Clenching her thighs against the sudden tingle in her panties, Cameron cleared her throat.

"Yeah and highly disgusting," Logan said, breaking the moment. "He orders peppers and onions on his!"

"Hmm, you're right," Cameron said, shifting her gaze reluctantly to wink at Logan. "That is disgusting."

***

Later that night, Mac glanced over at Logan. The boy was quiet, his eyes fastened on the current round of Angry Birds. His eyebrows were wrinkled together, his jaw tight, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. "Who's winning?" he asked, leaning over on the couch to muss the boy’s hair.

"No one wins, Dad," Logan said quietly, flicking his finger over the game screen. A crash resounded from the device clutched in the boy's fingers, and he glanced up, triumphant. "If you don't make it, you try again. You just try to beat the levels."

"Mmhmm. So, how was dinner?" Mac asked.

"Good," Logan answered. "The bread was really soft and buttery this time."

"Logan," Mac said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, you mean your woman," Logan teased, a devious twinkle in his eyes when he looked up at his father.

"Har har. I'm serious, dude."

Logan sighed, holding the power button to turn the screen off on his game. Setting it aside, he folded his hands in his lap and looked up. "I think she's really pretty, Dad. When you left her with me and went to get her a drink, she sat down and just started talking to me, so it wasn't weird. And she's funny; she told me this joke and I almost choked, I was laughing so hard."

"What was the joke?" Mac asked.

"She said, 'What did Geronimo say when he jumped out of a plane?'" Logan said, leaning back on the couch, a devious grin on his face as he anticipated telling the punch line of the joke.

"I have no idea, kid, what did he say?"

Logan laughed. "He yelled, 'ME!' Isn't that the funniest thing you ever heard? 'Me?' 'Cause he's already Geronimo?"

"Pretty funny," Mac answered, watching as his son lit up with glee. "Yeah, that's pretty funny." He sat back, watching silently as Logan picked up his game and happily went back to shooting little birds at pig towers, or whatever it was he was doing in that game.

He kept remembering the blatant joy on her face, how thrilled she'd been to sit down with Logan and have an unexpectedly easy time getting to know him. He'd been pretty thrilled himself, watching Logan smile up into a woman's face again. Cameron's face, with those eyes that made him a little drunk. Cameron, with lips that made him sink into fantasies, legs that wrapped around his waist like --

"Dad?"

"Yeah, what's up bud?" Mac focused on the worried look Logan was throwing him. Had he groaned or something? Taking stock of himself, he realized how hard he'd gotten, thinking of her.

"You were just, I don't know, phased out. And you kind of did a little wiggle thing."

"Nah, I'm good. Just, uh, getting comfortable. So you really liked her? Cameron?"

"I did. I'm not sure why you wanted me to go on a date with you though."

"Well, you know if I keep dating her, and it gets into this long relationship kind of thing, then --"

"Are you gonna marry her, Dad?"

Mac choked on his breath. He took a huge breath, filling himself with air in an effort to force his chest to relax. He wasn't ready for this conversation ... was he? "I don't know, Logan," he said honestly. Running his hands through his hair, he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees, bringing himself closer to his son without getting into his space. "What if I wanted to marry her? How would you feel about that?" he asked.

Logan's eyes grew large, his mouth working silently for a moment before he realized what he was doing and clamped his lips together. "I don't know. What if she changes her mind and doesn't like me anymore? Or you? Mom used to say stuff about your work all the time and she’d get mad. What if Cameron gets mad? Or, you know, if she gets sick? Like my mom got sick?"

"Well son, there isn't any guarantee that she will or won't get sick. Anyone can get sick, you know that. With little things like simple colds, or big things like heart trouble. Or cancer, like mom. But everyone doesn't always get sick. My mom didn't get sick. And Cameron's mom isn't sick."

"Is she pretty old like Grandma? Cameron's mom?"

Mac laughed, imagining the exasperated look his mother would wear if she could hear Logan now. "Yeah, son, but don't say that to Grandma, okay?"

"Do you really think she would want to marry to us?" Logan asked quietly. "Sometimes I don't clean my room. Or do my homework. And I get in trouble sometimes at school, too. She wouldn’t like that, would she?"

"She wouldn’t like if you get in trouble, or any of those things, but I'm pretty sure Cameron will like you anyway. You can do your best to always do your best though, by cleaning your room and watching yourself at school. Doing your homework is important, too. But someday when you want your own wife, she's going to expect you to clean up after yourself. And she’ll probably give you homework sometimes, too, like fixing the dishwasher."

"Yeah, I know," Logan said, a blush creeping up from the neck of his t-shirt. He burrowed deeper into the couch as the flush of pink crept over the curve of his jaw and slowly covered his cheeks. "Would she be like a mom?"