Not important, he told himself, especially when she was living in a house a ten-year-old could break into. He’d need to get his security guy out here, to put a decent lock on all the doors and install an alarm. If he didn’t, he’d never sleep again. Or he’d be bunking down on her couch every night.
Cam followed Vivi into a small living room containing two brightly covered sofas. A small TV sat on a wooden box and a bunch of bright flowers stood on a small table next to a bookcase. Cam narrowed his eyes and read the titles: a little romance, a lot of cookbooks, some true crime. He turned around slowly, saw the small dining table and, beyond it, a galley kitchen. A tiny pink handprint on a sheet of white paper was attached to the door of the fridge with a daisy magnet. He looked but he couldn’t find any photos of her daughter—his daughter—anywhere.
“I was hoping to see a photo of Clementine.”
“I normally have a bunch out but I’m having them reframed.” Vivi’s deep brown eyes, exhausted and full of pain, met his. “I have some on my phone.” Then Cam caught the sheen of tears and watched as she swiped angrily at them. “Crap, no phone! My life is on my phone. My banking apps, my photos, my contacts, recipes... Everything.”
Cam knew that the experiences of the day were coming back to pummel her, and she was fast running out of steam. She needed to shower and get some rest. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ask him to buy her another phone, to lend her money to tide her over until she managed to get new bank cards. He wouldn’t be surprised if she asked him to rent her a car or, hell, buy her one. He’d had girlfriends who thought sex gave them immediate access to his credit cards, so Vivi asking him for help wouldn’t surprise him. But in this case, he’d give it. Clem was his daughter and there was no way he’d watch Vivi struggle when he could make her life easier.
And if he were the oil rigger he’d been years ago, if he’d been eating at The Rollin’ Smoke as a normal guy at a normal table, drinking water instead of craft beer, would she still have tracked him down, found out who he was? How much of a factor was his money in Vivi’s decision to name him as Clem’s father, to list him as her go-to person? Would he be half so attractive without his money?
He didn’t think so.
But instead of making demands, asking for help, Vivi walked into the kitchen and filled a glass with tap water. After drinking it down, she gripped the sink and gazed at the wall of her neighbor’s house with a thousand-yard stare and panic-filled eyes.
To hell with it. She ought to be done with this day, with trying to remain strong, with attempting to keep it all together. He was taking over. Cam dumped his phone and wallet on the dining table and walked toward her. When he reached her, he bent his knees and scooped her up against his chest.
“What the hell, McNeal?”
Cam glared down at her. “Just for a second, stop thinking. Is Clem safe for a few hours?”
Vivi nodded. “Yes.”
“Okay then.” He walked into the hallway and nudged open the first door with his foot. A small bed, stuffed toys on the pillow, little girl shoes on the floor. Clementine’s room and not what he was looking for.
“What are you doing?” Vivi demanded, her body stiff in his arms.
The bathroom was the next room and Cam walked inside and dropped Vivi onto the toilet seat. Ignoring her squawk, he flipped on the taps to the shower and met her angry glare. “Again, what the hell are you doing?” she demanded.
Cam squatted down in front of her, balancing on his toes. He rested his arm on his knee and met her eyes. “Vivianne, you’ve had a hell of a day. You had a close call, you are banged up and bruised. You’re dealing with me, the father of your child, someone you didn’t expect in your life. You have things to do and are facing a few uncomfortable days.”
Vivi stared down at her hands and he saw her shoulders shake. Dammit, he was saying this wrong. He placed his hands on her thighs and tapped her thigh with his index finger.
“Look at me, Viv.”
He waited until all that brown met his blue. “I’m here and as much as you want me to, I’m not going away. Not today.”