Blackstone Ranger Scrooge: Blackstone Rangers Book 6 Page 8
Heading back inside her house, she walked over to the corner spot where her—or rather, her and Cam’s—tree stood. The blue spruce was the perfect size and shape for the living room, and while the timing had been terrible when she spotted it, she just had to have it. The boxes of decorations taken out of storage now sat on her coffee table, and the hot chocolate made from scratch was ready. Now she only needed a sexy, brainy doctor to come knocking on her door, and everything would be perfect.
The familiar sound of her ringtone sent her scrambling for her phone. A thrill shot up her spine when she saw Cam’s name on the caller ID. “Hey, Cam,” she greeted, trying to sound casual. “Are you on the way? What breakfast didja get me?”
“Good morning, love.” His voice made her all tingly, especially when he called her with that pet name. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
“Oh? Did you have trouble finding restaurants that were open today?” Many businesses in Blackstone would be closed over the long weekend so people could spend time with their families. Cam, not being from around here, wouldn’t have known that. “I should have realized and told you—”
“No, it’s not that.” He let out a breath. “Something’s come up. I’m afraid I can’t make it over.”
“Can’t make it over?” Disappointment coursed through her. “What’s wrong? Are you all right? What happened?” Surely if Cam couldn’t make it, there was something really wrong.
“I just … I have to deal with something.”
“What thing? Is it an emergency?”
“A … family matter.”
She waited for him to explain. For a second, she even thought the line went dead as the silence stretched on. “Cam?”
“Yes?”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes.”
Then why was he bailing out? She couldn’t understand. But then again, surely she didn’t imagine what happened yesterday and last night. I should give him the benefit of the doubt. Though she and Cam were mates, if something happened to Gabriel or Damon, she would drop everything in an instant to be with them. “All right.” She plopped down on the couch. “If you change your mind …”
“I’ll let you know. Goodbye, J.D.”
“Bye, Cam.” And the line went dead.
Her cat dug its claws into her stomach, making her feel even more uneasy. You’re being silly, she told herself. Besides she and Cam didn’t really know each other. This was the time they were supposed to use to do that, and this was part of it. Also, a day or two away from each other would slow things down and let them figure out how they were going to do this.
Her animal, however, disagreed and sank its claws deeper into her, as if telling her that something was wrong.
“Silly cat,” she said, brushing her inner animal’s protest away. Getting up from the couch, she decided to drink her hot chocolate for breakfast and then see what movies were on the television. She looked at the boxes of decorations sadly, but maybe Cam would finish early with his family emergency and they could still make something of today.
The rest of the day passed and there was no call or even text from Cam. And J.D. was sure she didn’t miss any because she constantly glanced at her phone. Every notification made her jump, but none of them were from him. She ordered pizza for lunch, had leftovers for dinner, and then went to bed. He’ll call tomorrow, she told herself.
But Cam didn’t call the next day or the day after that. The diner had opened on Sunday, at least, so she was able to get out of the house and go somewhere for a meal instead of eating day-old pizza and Chinese food again. She didn’t want to call any of her friends to hang out because they were all busy, and inevitably, they would ask her where Cam was. She couldn’t bear to tell them that she didn’t know. When she got home, the sight of the bare tree and the decorations in their boxes made her stomach clench. Her cat sniffed and flicked its short tail in a motion that she read as I told you so.
By the time she went into the garage the next day, her disappointment had turned to irritation. Contrary to what most people thought, if J.D. was having an off day, she was never irrationally angry at her employees. No, Pop would never have stood for anyone taking out their frustration on loyal people. She really only got mad when they did shoddy work or treated customers badly.
However, everyone in the garage knew to never cross her, and today, it was as if they could sense the simmering anger bubbling inside her, and they steered clear. For most of the morning and the rest of the day, she was quiet and sullen, giving them only one-word answers and mumbles when they asked her anything.
The afternoon rolled around, and there was not even a peep from Cam. Well, now J.D. was furious. Her cat spurred her on, vexed at her for not seeking their mate out earlier and very much pissed at him for not coming to see them.
It wasn’t even quitting time when, in a fit of indignation, she grabbed her keys and left the garage. As she drove up to the Blackstone Rangers headquarters, that simmering anger had slowly turned into full-blown rage.
She arrived at HQ, fit to be tied, bursting through the doors. “Where can I find Dr. Spenser?” she asked the ranger guarding the front desk.
The young man looked up at her, eyeing her warily, probably sensing her and her animal’s mood. “Uh, maybe I can help you, ma’am?”
“You can help by telling me where Dr. Spenser is.”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down nervously. “Who?”
“Cam. Spenser.” She slammed her palm on the desk, emphasizing each word. “You know. Tall, blond, broody polar bear? Wears gold-rimmed glasses?”
“I—”
“Hey, J.D., how’s it going?”
Whirling her head, she saw Daniel Rogers coming up to them. “Daniel, thank God you’re here.”
“Yeah? What’s up?” He lifted his chin at the other ranger. “Hey, Dune, how’s it going?”
Dune’s eyes widened. “Um, hey, Daniel. Maybe you can help out Miss … Miss … uh …”
“It’s McNamara,” she snapped.
“M-Miss McNamara is looking for someone.”
“Oh yeah? Who?” Daniel asked.
She gritted her teeth. “Cam.”
“Cam?” His brows drew together.
“Yeah, Cam. Do you know where he is?”
“Sure. At this time, he’s probably in his office. Second floor—hey, wait!”
But she didn’t bother to let him finish, and instead, stomped toward the elevators to take her to the second floor. Of course, she realized she should have asked Daniel which room, but it only took her three tries before finding the correct one.
“Cam Spenser, where the hell are you?” she announced as she burst through the third door.
Someone shot up from where they had their head down on a desk piled with papers and envelopes. “What the—” Cam stopped, rubbed his eyes, and grabbed his glasses to put them on. “J-J.D.?” He blinked. “What are you doing here?”
She clenched her jaw. “What am I doing here? What am I doing here?”
He harrumphed. “You don’t have to repeat it to me, I asked you the question.”
“I thought you said you had a family emergency.”
“I said I had to deal with a family matter,” he pointed out. “It was you who concluded it was an emergency.”
Was he for real? “Seriously? You’re playing semantics with me right now?”
Getting up to his feet, he combed his fingers through his loose hair, then tugged down at his rumpled shirt. “I don’t understand why you’re in a snit. I told you I had to deal with something and that I would call you once it was all sorted out.” He rubbed a hand across his jaw, which was normally clean-shaven but now sported a stubble.
“But why are you here?” she asked.
“Why not?” he shrugged. “Work helps me think. And I wasn’t really planning on having any days off after Thanksgiving, so I thought I’d drive back here and do some cleaning up and work so I can start afresh on Mon
day.”
“Start afresh on … Cam, it’s Monday.”
He blinked. “Excuse me?”
“It’s. Monday. Today,” she fumed. “You haven’t called me in days.” The way her voice trembled uncontrollably and her heart twinged made her even more furious. The only man who ever made her cry was her father, and that was because he had left her when he died.
He stared at her, mouth gaping open. “I … I didn’t mean to. But this … this is how I am, I’m afraid. My work sometimes consumes me, and I don’t always know which way is up. There was this time I was in the bogs of Stirling,…”
She waited for him to explain further. To tell her what his family emergency—matter—was and to ask for her forgiveness. But he only went on and on about bogs and fens and other shit she didn’t know or care about. “Cam!”
“I—yes?”
“What’s the real deal here?”
“Real … deal?”
Oh, he tried to sound innocent. He probably droned on and on about mires and moss to distract her. But, looking into those blue-violet eyes, she could tell he was hiding something. “Yes. What’s really going on? If you didn’t want to decorate our—the tree with me, then you should have just said so.”
“You and that damned tree,” he grumbled. “And bloody fucking Christmas.”
A pain slashed at her chest, and her cat reached out wanting to swipe at him. “You … Scrooge!”
“Why is it always about this damned season? I can’t fucking wait for it to be over and—wait.” Panic struck his face. “That’s not what I—”
“You know why this means so much to me!”
“J.D., please!” He rounded the table. “Please, I didn’t mean that … I’m just so goddamned exhausted … I know your mum …”
“Don’t!” she hissed. “Don’t you dare even think about her!” Motherfucker, she was going to lose her shit if she didn’t get out of here. Spinning on her heel, she raced out of the office and down the hallway, heading toward the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator.
If he did call her or chase after her, she didn’t know, and she didn’t care. She raced to her truck like fucking Satan was on her heels, then peeled out of the parking lot as fast as she could.
Her body felt numb throughout the entire drive home, her mind refusing to accept what had happened. If he needed a few days to figure things out or if he just didn’t want to decorate with her, she would have understood. But he fucking lied to her and that, she couldn’t forgive. Her cat, too, seethed with displeasure.
Her phone was blowing up the entire drive down, but she ignored it. But it kept ringing and ringing, and so as soon as she got off the mountain roads and stopped at a light, she picked it up. “Get bent, Spenser!” she screamed, then tossed the phone at the passenger seat. “Asshole.” It was immature, but it sure made her feel a helluva whole lot better.
When she reached home, she swerved into her driveway and slammed on the brakes. As she was about to grab the door handle, her phone started ringing again. Damn it. Gritting her teeth, she picked it up. “In case we’re having a cross-cultural miscommunication here, get bent means fuck off!”
“J-J.D.?”
Crap. It wasn’t Cam. “Uh, who is this?”
“It’s me. Roy.”
Fucking Roy Jorrell. Just what she needed now. Her inner cat spat and swiped its claws out. “Sorry. Prank callers. What’s up?”
“I was just … you know. Checking in on you. You didn’t answer my text the other day, but then I thought you’re probably busy with the holiday weekend.”
“Yeah, I was,” she snapped impatiently. “Was there something you needed?”
“Me? Nah. I stopped by your garage, and they said you left earlier than usual.”
“And?” She rolled her eyes. “Listen, I can’t really talk right now. If you need stuff taken care of with your truck, just drop it by the garage, okay?”
“No, I was wondering if you had a chance to think—”
“Bye, Roy.” She tossed the phone back into the passenger seat. Ugh, she didn’t want to talk to him. Or anyone right now.
As she stomped into her living room, she considered tossing out that fucking tree and returning the decorations back into the attic.
However, when her gaze landed on the picture above her mantle, her stomach twisted. It was of her, Pop, and Mom when she was about four years old, on Christmas morning, of course. They were sitting in front of a tree, a pile of toys and scattered gift-wrapping paper around them.
“I’m sorry, Ma,” she sniffed. “I would never throw out a perfectly good Christmas tree.” And yes, it was her tree. “Don’t worry, I’ll make her pretty, just like you would have wanted.”
With a determined grunt, she reached for the first box and opened it up. Mate or not, she would feel the fucking Christmas spirit this year, even if it killed her.
Chapter Seven
If she was disappointed that Cam hadn’t tried to contact her since their blow up, J.D. didn’t show it. She just went about her life over the last few days as she always did. With the holidays in full swing and the weather starting to get colder, it was as busy as ever in the garage.
Her cat, however, turned into a moody little bitch. More than usual, anyway. Its emotions swung from anger at Cam for lying to them, and dejection at the fact that he had stayed away all this time.
But we don’t want to see him, she told her animal.
It planted its chin on its front paws and pouted at her.
“Ugh.”
Ignoring her cat, she continued on with her work. She had a bunch of cars that needed oil, antifreeze, and tire changes, not to mention heating system repairs and cleaning. Normally, she would leave basic stuff like this to her guys, but they were backed up. Besides, it was good to keep her hands busy, and frankly, she loved the work. It gave her a sense of purpose and reminded her a lot of growing up here, learning from and eventually working with her father.
When she finished the last car for the day, she went around, checking if her guys needed anything. Her last stop was on the east end of the compound which was separate from the car repair area. Entering the covered garage, she greeted the lone occupant inside. “Hey, Mason, what’s up?”
The tall, burly bearded man looked up from where he was working on a dirt bike. “J.D,” Mason Grimes greeted. “What’s up? How was your Thanksgiving?”
Mason was her partner in the motorcycle shop she had on-site. Aside from doing repair work, he also did his custom bikes here. She counted herself lucky that Mason came along at the right time last year, as she nearly lost her investment when her previous partner had pulled out. Now, they were making money hand over fist as she could accept repairs from Blackstone residents rather than sending them to the next shop over in Verona Mills.
“You know, same old, same old.” She ignored her cat’s meowing protests. “How about you? How are the little ones?”
“They’re great.” His eyes always lit up when anyone mentioned his kids. “Tomorrow’s the start of the Christmas Carnival at Lennox Park. Cassie’s pretty excited to go. Amelia might stay home with James if it gets too nippy.”
She chuckled. “Awesome, I’m sure she’ll love it.” Mason’s little girl Cassie was hilarious, and J.D. loved the spunky four-year-old.
“And you? You’re heading over, right? I know you never miss the first night when they turn on all the lights.”
“Maybe.” Stupid Cam, she thought. Frankly, she’d thrown herself into work so much that she’d forgotten, and for probably the first time in, well, ever, she wasn’t feeling the Christmas spirit. “I got a lot to take care of. You know, the usual holiday rush. Anyway, just wanted to catch up with you on a few things.”
They chatted for a few minutes about work, then J.D. bid him goodbye. As she headed back to the office, she saw one of her guys, Junior, coming out of the trailer. “Were you looking for me?”
Junior nodded. “You got a delivery, boss. Placed it on your
desk.”
“Delivery? I’m not expecting anything? What is it?”
A smile tugged up his mouth. “You’ll see.” The smile turned into a grin and then scampered away, as if he was trying to hide some juicy secret.
Shrugging, she pushed the door to the trailer open. “What the—” To her surprise, a large teddy bear sat on her desk. “Where the hell …”
Cam.
Her heart soared, and she giggled like an idiot as she closed the door behind her, looking around as if someone might catch her doing something bad. Dashing over to the table, she took the white card clutched between the bear’s paws. Thinking of you, my mate. It was printed out and not signed, but who else could it be from?
Her cat, however, let out a mee-reow and wrinkled its delicate little nose, like it smelled something distasteful, then flicked its tail.
“Oh, who asked you?” She held the card to her chest. Oh, Cam …
Despite the excitement bubbling up in her, she knew a cute gift wasn’t enough to make up for what he did. It was a nice thought, but she needed an explanation. Checking her phone, she frowned as her notifications tab sat empty. No missed calls, no text messages. Hmmm.
Cam didn’t call that day or the next day. However, another delivery came. This time it was a huge—no, gigantic—arrangement of flowers. She took a whiff of the red and white roses—two dozen of them, each the size of a child’s fist, arranged beautifully with other decorative leaves in a beautiful crystal vase. Plucking the card sticking out from the top, she opened it and read it aloud.
“You’re my dream come true, my one and only mate.”
Huh.
Not that she didn’t like the sentiment behind it, but it just didn’t sound like Cam. Plus, once again, the note wasn’t signed.
A knock on the door made her jump. “Come in!” she said automatically without realizing whoever it was would see the flowers. Of course, Junior would probably have spread the word around about the boss getting gifts two days in a row now, and they were going to rib her hard for sure. “I—” Her heart smashed into her rib cage as the force of blue-violet eyes collided with her own. “Cam?”