Capturing You (Maple Grove Romance Book 1) Read online

  She pushed away from him, a blush forming on her apple cheeks. “Dad, stop.” She widened her eyes at him, and Cam couldn’t help but smile at how much his baby had grown.

  He took his seat. “Sorry, Mouse.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Dad!”

  He pressed his lips together, smothering a laugh. “Right, sorry. Maddie.”

  He stole a look at Lydia. He remembered her as though it was yesterday. He had been dropping his little brother at the studio in the West Village. Before catching the bus home, he stopped to get a coffee in the building’s lobby and there she’d been—running smack into him on his way out of the restroom.

  He knew he had recognized her back at the Inn; but then seeing her crouched next to Troy, it all came slamming back to him like a truck careening full speed down a highway.

  That day—hell, that moment was one he never forgot. She was the first woman in ages he had felt a sexual attraction to. The first woman he found beautiful since Hannah. And now, after months, that face had a name… Lydia.

  She stood before him ramrod straight, shoulders squared off, and hands rigid against her sides. Her expression was just too good to miss. Those pouty, full lips of hers were puckered open like some sort of fish. Did he just compare this woman to a fish?Cam stifled a groan. He clearly had been away from the dating scene for too long. Not that Ms. Ryder was anything near his type. The fact that she was a journalist was bad enough. A kid-hating journalist was even worse. Even still, she was certainly something to look at.

  Her chestnut brown hair hung past her collarbone, with caramel-gold streaks dusted through. The way she swung her hips with a natural grace while walking—it made him want to curl his hands around her ass and pull her close. He’d done his best to remain aloof, but on the inside, his libido was burning. Boiling to almost record highs. His body was springing to life once again, and he forced himself to push the reaction aside.

  He hadn’t experienced that sort of stir in ages—in seven months to be exact. And this wasn’t a good time for it to begin again. In fact, it was a terrible time for it to begin—the week that he was celebrating his late wife’s life and raising money with his daughter? His body couldn’t have chosen a worse time to wake from hibernation. Besides, Lydia Ryder was the exact opposite of what he should need or want. He knew that back in the coffee shop, and he knew it now. Yet—his body thought differently.

  After he yanked her out of the street, for all of a second, he thought there could potentially be something between them. Despite her high maintenance luggage, she was easy to chat with. Intelligent and talented as hell, he thought, his eyes drifting to the portfolio. And the walk to the school was—

  No. He shook the thought from his mind. She was a reporter, a job description that lent itself to deceit. She lived hours away. And she didn’t like kids. He couldn’t allow himself to even entertain the thought of being with a woman who didn’t want children. It would only spell heartbreak for everyone involved.

  He looked back over at Maddie. Not that he was entertaining thoughts of being with any woman, for that matter. For some, two years might be plenty of time to move on… but how did anyone really know when it was time?

  Maddie’s dark hair was glossy, and her brown eyes sparkled in the same way Hannah’s did when she was nervous and excited. The lump formed in his throat faster than he had time to react to it and he quickly averted his eyes to the window, blinking away the pain. He swallowed it down, as he’d done so many times in the past.

  Maddie walked up to Lydia, a smile spreading like butter from ear to ear, and stuck out her hand. “I’m Maddie.”

  Lydia’s mouth snapped shut, and she cleared her throat before wearing that strained smile he had seen out in the hall with Troy. And damn if it wasn’t pleasing on the eyes to see that body of hers wriggle under pressure.

  “Er—I’m Ms. Ryder.” She stuck out her hand awkwardly as if she wasn’t sure how to greet a miniature human. Maddie confidently took hold of it and gave it a firm, jerky shake. “You’re the charity coordinator?”

  Maddie smiled proudly. “Yep.”

  “I see.” Lydia cleared her throat and took a seat. “Well, shall we start, then?” When Maddie didn’t sit, Lydia slid another glance over at Cam, her grey eyes lowered into just the slightest scowl.

  He gave her a smile—the kind of smile that was a touch more than friendly and just shy of cavalier. She breathed in deeply through her nose and on the exhale, her scowl lifted and she sent him back an even sweeter smile. Damn. Her smile was like a sock in the gut. It transformed her whole face. And if Cam thought she was beautiful before—he hadn’t seen the half of it. There was a tightness in her jaw; the smile was brittle and forced, yet still a night and day difference from the scowling woman he had been staring at for the past fifteen minutes.

  She looked back to Maddie, who was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. “Please,” Lydia said, “sit and join me.”

  Maddie slid into the seat beside Lydia and both squirmed nervously beside each other. Cam almost couldn’t tell who was more nervous: his ten-year-old, or the adult sitting next to her. Lydia flopped the portfolio between them as Maddie’s eyes widened. She trailed a finger over the leather binding and Lydia’s name embossed on the front.

  “Whoa,” Maddie said. “That’s cool.”

  Lydia stiffened even more beside Maddie. “Is it?”

  “Yeah.” Maddie seemed transfixed on the leather portfolio rather than the photos inside.

  Lydia chuckled, relaxing just the slightest bit, and Cam, in turn, released his white knuckled grip on the armrests of his chair. “It’s important to me that the outside of the portfolio be a reflection of what’s to come on the inside.”

  Maddie’s face twisted in confusion, but she nodded as though she was hanging onto every word.

  “This is some of my work. I think it would be great for you to have a sense of what my style is. I’m a documentary photographer, so unless I specifically set up a shot and tell you to look at me, I don’t want you even noticing me and my lens.”

  Maddie’s eyebrows were knitted together, concentrating as though there might be a test. She opened the book to the first photograph—a full-frontal nude image of an African woman with tribal paint and piercings all over her face. Giggling, she darted a wide-eyed look at her father.

  Cam lunged for the portfolio and lifted the heavy thing from her lap. He stood above Lydia where she sat with her legs crossed, sucking the side of her cheek defiantly. Her puckered mouth was right near his zipper fly and the image of her looking up at him from that angle—shit—he stepped back.

  He took a deep breath before pointing a finger in her face. “I have no problem with my daughter seeing a wide variety of art and documentaries. However, I do prefer to talk to her about what she will be seeing first.”

  Lydia stood, taking the portfolio from him. “You just saw what was in this portfolio. You could have stopped me.” That was damn true, he thought. But he was too distracted watching her squirm. Her forefinger brushed across his flesh as she slid the leather away, stirring his hibernating libido to life. “Even still,” she continued, “I apologize. I knew I’d be working with children this week, but no one told me that the ‘director’”—she used air quotes around the word—“of this event was a child. That’s the sort of misrepresentation that would make a lot of journalists walk out on a story.”

  Fists clenched by his sides. “Look, it’s not our fault if you can’t do your job right.” This here was exactly why he tried to convince Tucker and his mother that inviting the press was a bad idea. No matter how upfront you were with them, they would always find ways to screw you. What happened to the smart, sexy, and slightly clumsy woman he met outside? The one who brushed her hand against his while walking and sent him eyelash flutters through the snowfall? She was replaced with the shrew from the coffee shop seven months ago, that’s what happened. She showed her true colors.

  “I can only do my job rig
ht if you’re honest with what the story even is. Look, I’m sorry. I’ll have to call my editor. We don’t typically focus on children in our magazine unless it’s a celebrity birth. I have to see how she wants to proceed.”

  “You’re backing out on the story? Now? Days before the auction?” Cam glanced down at Maddie. Her head was down and her hands were laced together in her lap. Anger seethed inside of him, and he stepped even closer into Lydia’s personal space.

  The principal slipped between the two using his hands to separate their bodies. “Madelynn, why don’t you go ahead back to class. We’ll figure out a good time for your first interview with Ms. Ryder soon.”

  She nodded, her eyes shifting between the three adults, lingering for a moment on Lydia. “Can I use the bathroom first?”

  Mr. Tucker nodded. “Of course. Just ask Ms. Daveda for a pass when you leave.”

  Cam knelt, pulling Maddie in for a hug. And for the first time in a while, she let him do so in the company of others. He rubbed her back and kissed just above her ear. Flicking a glance at Lydia, he saw a flash of something—regret maybe?—register on her face. Not that he cared. She should regret it. She should feel bad. After a few more seconds, Maddie pushed away from his hold. More than anything, he wanted to squeeze her close again. She turned with a quick wave over her shoulder and bolted from the room.

  The men looked over at Lydia, standing with her chin held high. “I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to make the little girl cry. But I really do have to check in with Mara about this confusion. I have to make sure this is a story she wants to continue with.”

  “The little girl’s name is Maddie. And are you seriously blaming us for this?” Cam moved to get in her face again, but Mike grabbed his arm, silencing him with a look.

  “Lydia—we did alert your office to the fact that it was being organized by a child. In fact, as we were sending out the press releases, that was one of our main marketing points. The fact that a child is putting together this amazing event is what we hope is the most beautiful part about it. And with the artist residency program here in town, we were certain we could get a handful of well-known artists to come. Some even contributed art.” He walked over to his desk and pulled a sheet of paper out of a folder marked “Auction”. He slipped on a pair of reading glasses—the kind you buy at Walgreens—and held the paper up to the light. “In fact, here is the e-mail I sent to your boss, Mara Stein, stating such.”

  Lydia pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers. “Of course,” she said to no one particular. She read the message, then after another moment, collected herself and looked up at them. “I apologize. My editor didn’t brief me on my assignment’s age. Just an honest oversight, I’m sure. It’s been a crazy month of going straight from one story into the next and the information likely got lost in the shuffle. I promise you that I’ll be better prepared for my next meeting with Maddie.”

  “If you think I’m going to let you near my daughter after today…” Cam stood, frozen like an ice statue and his insides nearly as cold. He never should have let Tucker, Maddie, and his mother talk him into making this auction a media storm. They never should have sent out those press releases. “Mike, we need to cut our losses here. The local papers can cover this. We know they’ll handle it with grace—”

  “Cameron. I don’t think Ms. Ryder meant any harm. She was just thrown off. Isn’t that right?”

  She nodded, the corners of her mouth tilted down in the tiniest frown. “I was. But I’ve worked with plenty of children before. I assure you, I can do this.” Her voice quivered as she stated the strong words. She seemed sincere, but there was a gnawing feeling in Cam’s gut. He didn’t give people more than one chance to disappoint him and Lydia already had one strike against her. “Again, I am truly sorry,” she reiterated.

  Though his scowl remained, the fists clenched at his sides softened. “It’s not Mike and me who need the apology.”

  She nodded and pressed her lips together, smoothing them over themselves like how Hannah used to do when she rubbed in lipstick. “I realize that. I will certainly apologize to Miss Tripp—Maddie—as well when I see her next.”

  “Great.” Mike’s voice boomed through the office. “Why don’t you two schedule your first—well, uh, second meeting as it is now, I suppose—for after school today? No point in putting it off.”

  Lydia nodded. “That works for me. Mr. Tripp?”

  He grunted a response that sounded sort of like yes. “We’ll meet you at Elsa’s Cafe. It’s attached to the inn. Four o’clock.”

  Cam swallowed, his throat drying faster than the Sahara as Lydia bent at the waist to gather all items in her arms. It wasn’t an intentional sexy bend. No cocked hip or subtle bedroom eyes thrown at him over her shoulder. Just a woman in a too-tight skirt trying to pick up all her things. And damn if that didn’t work better. Her hair spilled over a shoulder, getting caught in her lip gloss, and she spat, shoving it away from her face clumsily. Gone was the sensual woman flirting with him. In its place was a flustered woman, fearful of losing an assignment. For all of a moment, sympathy seeped in for this her. He inwardly rolled his eyes. Sympathy? For a reporter? Yeah, that’ll be the day.

  ‡

  Chapter Four

  Lydia pressed the redial button with all her might, slamming her finger into it. She tapped her foot as the phone on the other end rang and rang. She looked around the small, but sweet cafe. Even though it was too early to be dinner time, it was buzzing with life and customers.

  Hello, you’ve reached the desk of Mara Walker, Story Editor at—

  “Goddamn it.” Lydia threw her cell phone down onto the table, barely caring that it slammed into her coffee cup. A gnawing guilt tugged at the base of her stomach. She hadn’t meant to be rude when the kid walked into the meeting. She had just been thrown off—admittedly, way off. And then when Maddie stood so straight and shook her hand… it just reminded her so much of her own attitude as a child. Like she was trying so hard to be grown-up.

  Which was essentially what Lydia had to do as a kid—practically parent herself through her childhood. No one had been there to pack her lunches. Or tuck her in for bed at night. Or take her temperature when she was sick. And as a result, she’d always longed to be an adult. So Lydia had simply attempted to treat the little girl the same way she would have liked when she was younger. In the moment, she had forgotten about some of the content in her portfolio. That’s just simply how she began every meeting, to give her subjects a better sense of what she did.

  She lifted the cup of now cold coffee to her lips and drank.

  The waitress, a plump older woman came rushing over, steaming pot of freshly brewed coffee in hand. “Now, now, no drinking the cold stuff. Not in my store,” she said with a wink.

  Lydia smiled at the woman. “Does that make you Elsa?”

  “It sure does. And that lovely little thing over there is my daughter, Lila.”

  Lydia nodded hello at the redhead across the room. “It’s nice to meet you both. I have to tell you… this is pretty good coffee. And I consider myself somewhat of an expert. You’ll probably see me here a lot this week.” Lydia tapped at her now steaming mug of coffee. “By the way, do you know if there’s any word yet on my room?” Lydia asked.

  Elsa offered her a sympathetic smile. “I’ll check for you,” she said, “but I wouldn’t get my hopes up too high. You’d be surprised at how quick our little town fills up for events.”

  Lydia’s phone buzzed and she scrambled to grab it, frowning at the name glowing on the screen. Jason. Steam rose in her chest at the thought of him, an anger burning from deep within. When was he going to give up? They broke up months ago—after hardly any dates. And yet, he continued calling, checking in. Usually at least once a month. As if anything could make up for those horrible things he said.

  Pushing Jason from her mind, she thought again of Maddie. She wasn’t being entirely honest with herself. Sure, she thought the little girl w
anted to be taken seriously, but Lydia had also been pretty pissed. She was certain that Cam and Tucker had tried to hide the fact that the coordinator was just a kid… and she responded by coming on a little too strong. Threatening to back out of the story, making Maddie cry. That wasn’t her intention, but nonetheless, she didn’t want to be that woman.

  Lydia couldn’t help but eye the rotating glass plate of pie atop the counter. Her mouth watered as she found the lemon meringue. Should she…? She turned back to her notes. Maybe after. It could be her reward for apologizing and getting started on the story.

  Her phone buzzed once more and she rolled her eyes, fully expecting to see Jason’s name illuminating the screen again. The phone nearly slipped from her hands when she recognized the number to her office building. “Yes, hello?”

  “Lydia, it’s Mara. What could possibly be so important that you felt the need to leave me eight messages in two hours?”

  Lydia took a deep breath. For as much as she disliked Mara, the woman was still her boss and could doom her career by giving her only the worst stories—stories like this one—for however long she decided to stay at the City Star. Which, God willing, would not be much longer.

  “I just had no idea that this story was about a child coordinator.” Lydia lowered her voice, scanning the nearly empty cafe for prying ears. “You told me to focus on Noah Blue and do a follow up about him. You said to look for scandal, intrigue. You said nothing about a ten-year-old organizer.”

  “So?” Lydia could hear the smirk on Mara’s face.

  “Well, I hate to tell you this, but according Noah’s family, he isn’t coming.”

  Mara hissed a curse from the other end of the phone. Then, with a resolute sigh, she said, “It doesn’t matter. You’re there, so we need to find a new angle. Still look for scandal. The fact that this coordinator is only ten doesn’t change the direction I want the story to take.”

  Lydia closed her eyes. “Mara—this town… it’s… it’s not a scandal kind of town. I think I could create a really great human interest story here—”