“Wow, that is a lot,” I said, my tone sympathetic. "If you're ever feeling overwhelmed, you can come talk to me. I'm always happy to listen."

  She sniffled, casting me a grateful look. "Thanks. I’ll tell Rory to quit being so harsh on you.”

  I gave a wry smile. “I’m not sure he’ll listen, but I appreciate you trying.”

  When I returned to my desk after lunch, my stomach twisted with guilt. I’d more or less told Jenny that Cameron and I were no more than work colleagues, and yet I planned to attend his brother’s birthday party this weekend. The guilt expanded and grew until I found myself sending a text message.

  Me: I can’t come to Nick’s party this weekend. Please give him my apologies.

  Cameron wasn’t in his office today and instead was out working on a case. Still, it didn’t take long for him to reply.

  Cameron: Any particular reason why you can’t come?

  Me: Yes. Silly, childish reasons, but reasons nonetheless.

  Cameron: Please stop talking in vagaries and explain.

  Me: Rory’s been telling everyone at work that I stole you away from Jenny. Today she confronted me and it was so uncomfortable. SO UNCOMFY, CAMERON. So I may or may not have assured her there was nothing between us.

  Cameron: Didn’t I tell you that you don’t owe anyone an explanation?

  Me: Well, you’re not the one being bullied and gossiped about!!!

  I was about to hit send when I reconsidered, deleted my text, and typed another.

  Me: That’s easy to say when you’re not being confronted by teary-eyed co-workers.

  Cameron: She was teary-eyed?

  Me: Believe it or not, rejection hurts people’s feelings.

  Cameron: You’ve already taught me this lesson, Maisie.

  Me: Just tell Nick I can’t come to his birthday, please.

  Cameron: Tell him yourself.

  Oh my God, he was so infuriating sometimes.

  I was about to throw my phone across the office in annoyance when I realised that would only result in a reprimand from Georgia, and also me having to purchase a new phone. Therefore, I restrained myself.

  “You look…tense,” Damien commented as he came to sit next to me at the desk.

  We were almost done with his training. Next week I’d hand him the reins, and I would become a full-fledged trainee investigator. I was excited about the fact that I’d be getting a whole new desk right next to Lilah’s. I’d always hated that we sat on opposite ends of the office from one another.

  “I’ve just been having a bit of a stressful day,” I replied.

  “Gotcha. Well, I was planning on going for a drink after work. You’re welcome to join me. A nice cold beer always takes the edge off.”

  “Oh, that’s kind of you to offer, but I can’t. I have plans.” Plans that involved a personal pizza, a bottle of wine, and several hours of sleuthing on my laptop. What with all of this Cameron-Jenny-Rory drama, I was looking forward to settling into a long research session to try to discover as much as I could about Edward Harrington and the treasure hunt. In truth, it had become something of a fun little side project. It was also a way to get my mind off all the personal stuff that was happening.

  “No worries. Let me know if your plans change,” Damien said, friendly smile in place.

  Cameron and I didn’t speak again after our heated text exchange. I also didn’t have the nerve to go to the coffee shop and tell Nick I couldn’t attend his party. That would be like telling a puppy they couldn’t play with their favourite sock. Instead, I was determined to show my face at the party, at least for a little while.

  ***

  Saturday was a dry but chilly day, so I opted to wear jeans and a nice jumper. It had a lace detail on the front that made it suitable for a party, while the cashmere knit made it warm and cosy. I wore my hair down and put on some makeup.

  When I arrived at the marina, it took me a while to find Cameron’s boat, mainly because he’d described it as small. In my opinion, a forty-foot sailboat wasn’t particularly small. Then again, I wasn’t a boatie type. I had no idea what was considered large.

  I spotted Nick, Ellen, Julian, and a few others having drinks around the seating area as I approached. On the side of the boat, there was a name in pretty, cursive font: Elizabeth.

  “Hi, Maisie!” Nick greeted and came to help me climb aboard.

  He re-introduced me to Ellen and Julian. Next were his parents, Ben and Shayla, who were both, well, really good-looking, actually. I could see how they had such attractive kids. Then there were three of Nick’s friends; Pete, Greg, and Sally, who all seemed cool and friendly.

  “I thought you were only allowed to invite six people,” I said teasingly to Nick

  “I made an exception,” a voice interrupted.

  I turned and found Cameron emerging from the cabin part of the boat. He wore a thick knitted jumper and jeans. Were these his sailing clothes? I was so used to seeing him all suited up at the office that it was always a little jarring when he dressed casually. Without the shirt collar and tie, his neck seemed rather…naked, almost indecently so. Who knew the absence of a necktie could be so pornographic? And don’t even get me started on how the sleeves of his jumper were rolled up to reveal captivatingly masculine forearms.

  Was waxing poetic about forearms the first sign of obsession?

  Probably.

  “Hi,” I said, wishing my voice was less breathy.

  “Hello, Maisie,” Cameron replied. “I see you’ve met everyone. Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

  Nick smirked and winked at me, as though “grand tour” was some kind of euphemism. I endeavoured to act natural while Cameron led me down into the boat.

  “So, you decided to come,” he said once we were alone.

  “I didn’t want to disappoint Nick,” I replied, swallowing tightly. Though the boat seemed relatively big from the outside, it was a bit of a tight squeeze down here.

  “Right. I forgot how lovely you think my brother is,” Cameron commented gruffly.

  “He is lovely,” I replied, refusing to be embarrassed because it was the truth. “And he invited me personally, so it would be rude not to turn up. I try not to hurt people’s feelings as a general rule.”

  “A rule like that will have you walking on eggshells your entire life,” Cameron pointed out. It was a talent of his to say things that held meaning while being devoid of a meaningful tone.

  “I don’t walk on eggshells,” I said defensively.

  Cameron cast me an assessing glance. “You weren’t going to come here today because of Jenny, a woman you work with who means absolutely nothing to you.”

  “I wouldn’t say she means nothing—”

  “Are you friends?” Cameron questioned. “Does she add value to your life?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Well, then you don’t owe her anything.”

  “I never claimed to owe her something,” I said, suddenly frustrated. “She accused me of trying to steal you away from her. All I did was convince her that wasn’t the case, which is the truth.”

  “So, you’re going to let a co-worker’s feelings dictate how you live your life? You’re going to stay away from me just because of a woman who’ll never mean anything to you?”

  I blinked at him, taken aback, my voice barely audible. “Obviously not forever.”

  “How long then? A few months? Years? You can’t live your entire life trying to please everyone, Maisie. Somebody’s always going to have a problem with you. That’s just how the world works.”

  “I just don’t want people thinking I went behind her back to steal you,” I said, embarrassed.

  His finger came to my chin, tilting my head up so that my eyes met his. His voice was low and husky, “You don’t need to steal something you already have.”

  His eyes softened and I struggled not to melt at his tenderly spoken words. I didn’t know what to say. Thankfully Cameron broke the silence.

  “Seriously though, you should think about it. Trying to please everyone is an impossible task, and a thankless one at that.” He paused for a second, eyeing me. “I’m sorry. Am I being an arsehole?”

  I shook my head. “Not at all. I guess it’s just hard to hear these things because I know they’re true. I also hate having drama at work. I hate the idea of people talking about me.”

  He gazed down at me empathetically. “If it makes you comfortable to keep what’s between us a secret at work, then I’ll do that for you. For as long as you need. You set the pace, okay?”

  I inhaled sharply, his husky promise washing over me. His kind understanding meant a lot, and it was a relief to know he was okay with not rushing into anything. Not that I didn’t want to be with him. I did. Too much, probably. We might not be together officially, but emotionally, the connection was definitely there. It was something I was constantly aware of, and it only grew stronger by the day.

  “Thank you,” I said quietly and he led me into a lounge and kitchen area, then showed me the bathroom and two bedrooms.

  “You could go on a pretty long trip on this thing,” I said. “Where’s the furthest you’ve ever gone?”

  “I’ve sailed to France a couple of times, and I often visit the Isle of Wight.”

  “That sounds like fun,” I said, absently admiring the woodwork.

  Cameron went silent.

  I glanced at him. His attention was on my outfit. I ran my hands over my jeans. “Is there something wrong? Oh no, did a bird poop on me? There are a million sea gulls flying around outside. And I know they say it’s good luck, but I’ve only ever experienced the bad side of that arrangement.”

  Cameron shook his head. “I’m just not used to seeing you dressed like this.”

  “Ah, right. I had the same thought about you. You’re normally in your suits.”

  “I like the jeans,” he said, then frowned and cleared his throat. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Sure,” I answered, feeling flushed at the idea of him admiring my jeans. More specifically, how I looked wearing them.

  Cameron pulled a bottle of beer from a cooler box and handed it to me. I thanked him and took a sip. “I hope this isn’t a weird thing to say, but your parents are really good-looking.”

  His expression was perplexed, his dark brows drawing together. “My parents?”

  “Yes, I met them upstairs.”

  “Shayla’s not my mum,” he said, like the very idea was offensive.

  I blinked. “Oh, I thought…”

  “She and Dad married about two years ago. My mum died when I was six.” There was a stillness to him now.

  I struggled to think of what to say.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, voice quiet. “I didn’t know your mum had passed.”

  “It was a very long time ago.” His voice was devoid of emotion, which I was starting to learn meant he was trying to hide his feelings.

  “Do you mind if I ask what happened to her?”

  Cameron’s shoulders tensed, his expression shuttering. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

  I nodded, knowing I shouldn’t pry but at the same time desperate for him to open up to me. I wanted to know everything about him, but he could be so closed off.

  “I was very close to my grandmother on my dad’s side when I was little,” I said, feeling like if I revealed something of my own he’d be more inclined to share too. “Since I’m an only child, she was more like a best friend than a grandma. I loved hearing all her stories about her life from when she was young. She was such a cheerful spirit, always with a smile on her face. Mum and Dad said I took after her. They used to call me Happy-Go-Lucky. It was my childhood nickname.”

  Cameron gave me a fond look. “It suits you. Is your grandma still alive?”

  I shook my head. “I was eleven when she passed away from ovarian cancer.” I paused, thinking about her. She seemed almost angelic in my memories. I didn’t have a single bad recollection of her. Bringing my attention back to Cameron, I continued, “Grief at that age is such a strange thing. Sometimes I think it might be worse to lose someone when you’re young because there’s still so much you don’t understand. It feels like the end of the world, like nothing will ever be right again.”

  His eyes rose to meet mine. He appeared to be having some kind of inner struggle, then suddenly he said, “Our house was broken into one day while my dad and Nick were out. The intruders happened upon Mum and there was a struggle…”

  He trailed off, like it was too painful to recount the rest. My gut sank. His mum had been murdered by home invaders? That was the last thing I expected. It was the sort of story you read about in the papers. You just never expected it to happen to someone you knew.

  I reached out and took his hand in mine. “My goodness, Cameron, I’m so sorry.”

  He glanced down at our interlocked fingers, his eyes unfocused. He was quiet for a long time before he spoke again.

  “Ellen and I were in the house when it happened,” he went on, eyes on the table. “Ellen was just a baby at the time, but I was old enough to remember everything. They locked me in the bathroom.” He lifted his beer and took a long swig, his jaw tight as he swallowed, like the memory was still fresh in his mind.

  “That’s awful,” I said, squeezing his hand before letting go. I couldn’t stop staring at him though. He was giving me a glimpse into his inner self, a little hint of the formation of his character, and I felt his pain intensely, still so visceral even after all these years.

  “I’m not telling you this for sympathy,” he replied, voice gruff, still not looking at me.

  “Why did you tell me?”

  “I don’t know. You said all that stuff about your grandma and I just…”

  He appeared to be struggling for words, so I spoke instead, “It’s okay. I get it. I’m glad you told me.”

  He sat back, his features drawn in thought. “I named this boat after her.”

  “Your mum’s name was Elizabeth?”

  “Yes, I only have a handful of memories of her, so I thought naming the boat would help keep them alive.” His expression turned introspective when he went on, “Something changed in all of us after she died. Ellen hardly spoke for years, she was so painfully shy. Nick was the opposite, loud and hyperactive. He was always getting into trouble for it at school. And I…”

  I leaned closer, eager to hear what he might reveal next. “And you?”

  “I went into myself, lost my confidence. I got bullied at school a lot.”

  My eyebrows jumped. “You did?”

  His expression was wry. “Not what you expected?”

  “You’re too intimidating to be bullied.”

  “I wasn’t always how I am now. One day I decided enough was enough. I wasn’t going to let people push me around anymore. I decided that when people pushed me, I’d push back.”

  I frowned now. “That’s good, but…you know you don’t always have to be on the defensive, right? Not everyone wants to bully you, some people just want to get to know you.”

  Cameron finally lifted his attention to me, his eyes burning bright. “Like you?”

  I averted my gaze, suddenly shy. “Maybe.”

  He nudged me with his shoulder then reached out to lift my chin so that we were making eye contact. “You know what I think?” he asked, expression intense.

  “What do you think?” I whispered, my breaths growing choppy from how focused he was on me.

  “I think we both have a lot to learn from each other.”

  My mouth ran dry at the husky quality of his voice, my heart racing when I heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

  “Are you two going to hide down here all day, or are we taking this thing out for a spin?” Nick asked.

  “We’ll be up in a minute,” Cameron answered.

  Nick grinned and turned to go back up the steps. “Aye, aye, Cap’n.”

  Cameron’s attention returned to me, his mouth so close to mine. For a second I thought he was going to kiss me and my nerves kicked into overdrive.

  “W-we should go back up,” I said, stammering because the heated look he gave me awoke every last one of my nerve endings.

  His gaze darkened with lust. “After you.”

  I climbed the steps up to the deck area with Cameron behind me, and I sensed him checking out my arse, but I didn’t turn around to check. Cameron’s dad and his wife Shayla stayed for a few more drinks and some party food before saying their goodbyes. Apparently, Shayla got seasick, so she couldn’t come out on the water.

  I watched Cameron as he stood by the helm, moving the boat from its spot in the marina, and was struck by how incredibly sexy he looked. If Cameron Grant private investigator was a ten on the attractiveness scale, then Cameron Grant sailboat captain was a fifteen. Possibly sixteen.

  The breeze blew my hair back from my face as I inhaled a deep breath of the salty sea air. I sat in between Ellen and Nick’s friend Greg, who was currently smoking a joint. He was lucky Cameron was busy sailing the boat, otherwise I was pretty sure he’d have something to say. Cameron definitely didn’t strike me as someone who approved of recreational drugs.

  Nick handed out more drinks, then plugged his phone into the sound system to play some music. The Monkees’ theme song came on first, and he shot me a teasing grin.

  “This one’s for you, Maisie.”

  I immediately looked to Cameron, whose attention was dead ahead as he pretended not to be listening.

  “I see your brother’s been talking about me again,” I said loudly so Cameron would hear.

  “Hey, no judgement,” Nick said. “Davy Jones was admittedly dreamy.”

  If I wasn’t mistaken, Cameron’s shoulders moved in a way that made me suspect he was trying not to laugh.

  “Oh, he was dreamy all right,” Julian agreed. “And if what I’ve heard is true, short men make for fantastic lovers. A friend of mine once told me the best sex of her life was with a man who was five foot two.”