Taken: A Kept Novella Read online

  Taken

  A Kept Novella

  Sally Bradley

  Taken

  Copyright © 2016 by Sally Bradley

  Visit Sally Bradley at www.sallybradley.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews and articles, without the prior written consent of the author.

  Cover design by Lynnette Bonner of Indie Cover Design, www.indiecoverdesign.com

  Edited by Christina Tarabochia

  Interior Design and Formatting by Polgarus Studio www.polgarusstudio.com

  Author Photo © 2014 by Janene Snyder, Top Spot Photography

  Published by Salena House Publishers

  This book is a work of fiction. When real establishments, organizations, events, or locales appear, they are used fictitiously. All other elements and all characters in the novel are drawn from the author’s imagination.

  To those who’ve stood for right,

  when right was labeled as wrong.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sample: Homestands

  Books by Sally Bradley

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  “Cameron, it’s… me.”

  Her hushed words on his voicemail still silenced his breathing, even years after hearing her new greeting for the first time. Ever since they’d reunited, those three words and that scared yet bold pause between them always made him stand motionless, hold his breath, and wonder.

  Wonder if she regretted what she’d done.

  Of course not, she’d say.

  If her life might ever be normal.

  Cameron, this is my normal.

  If wrong would someday be made right.

  Cam Winters smiled sadly at his phone, the screen fading to black. He tucked it into his pocket and moved forward with his day.

  That last question? That one he couldn’t quite stomach.

  Because the answer was no. It could never be made right.

  ****

  “Ah. Those two…” Jordan Foster’s voice was wistful, a mix of happiness and melancholy, as her brother’s car drove away.

  Walking beside her away from Chicago’s Buckingham Fountain, Cam turned his gaze from his best friend’s car to study his best friend’s sister. What made her sound so sad?

  She met his gaze, her brown eyes matching the hair that framed her pretty face, and smiled at him. “Dillan and Miska are engaged—finally. But now we’ve got to wait for the wedding.”

  “Won’t be long, by the sounds of it.” Cam stopped at a crosswalk while traffic zoomed by. Dillan getting married. He’d begun to think the guy would be single forever. Which was probably the same thing people thought about him, older than Dillan and still single at thirty-two.

  “I’m glad Dillan asked us to videotape him proposing, you know?” Jordan hugged herself, all wistfulness gone. “Wasn’t that the most romantic thing? Taking her to all the spots by Buckingham Fountain that had connected them? Then him taking her to a new spot to actually propose? Creating a new memory here?”

  Yep. It was romantic. Had to give Dillan credit for that. Cam pretended deep interest in the sun-lit skyline in front of him. “Dillan’s gone soft.”

  “Gone soft?” Jordan’s mouth fell open, and she whacked his shoulder with the back of her fist.

  Cam laughed.

  “Being romantic does not mean a guy’s gone soft. It means… he’s a real man.”

  “Ah, Jordan. You’re cute.”

  “I should have known that’d be news to you.”

  “What? That you’re cute?”

  She rolled her eyes. “That real men are romantic.”

  He snorted, warming up to their banter. “I can be romantic.”

  “That’s not what I hear.”

  “Yeah? From whom?”

  She raised her chin and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

  But now he wanted to know. “Come on, Jordan. Who says that?”

  She faced him again, flirtatiously tilting up her nose. “Everyone.”

  “I have not dated everyone. That’s not even a valid answer.”

  “Puh-lease.”

  “For example. You. I have not dated you.”

  Her teasing look morphed into seriousness.

  She was supposed to laugh at that. Keep the joke going. If she knew the feelings he’d been fighting about her… He swallowed. “I have definitely not dated everyone.” How had this conversation happened? This was Dillan’s sister, after all. His twenty-two-year-old sister. Cam’s best friend’s much younger sister whom he’d wanted to date for a year now. But of course she was off limits because of…

  Yeah. All of that.

  The walk sign flashed—mercifully—and he gestured across the street. “Let’s go.”

  She walked beside him, long legs matching his pace, hand swinging so close to his.

  He made a fist, then spread his fingers. Why did he have to point out that he’d never dated her? And why did she have to react that way?

  And why was Dillan the lucky guy who’d found his girl?

  They headed for his car, parked several car lengths ahead. Cam cleared his throat. “That is some pretty stellar parallel parking there, if you ask me.”

  “Is that why you quit dating girls after a few weeks? Because you don’t know how to be romantic?”

  The highway had better be empty so it wouldn’t take long to get her home. “Seriously. Look at how close those tires are to the curb.”

  “Cam, you seem uncomfortable talking about this.”

  Smart aleck. “I’m totally fine talking about my parallel parking skills.”

  She pulled him to a stop beside a car that wasn’t parked nearly as well. “But not relationships. Which never last with you. Why?”

  He tried to send her a patient, fatherly smile. “Jordan…”

  She sent the smile back. “Cam.”

  All right then. If she wanted to talk about it, he’d talk about it. “First of all, I don’t keep dating someone if it’s not going to work out. I’d call that being a good guy, maybe. Second…”

  She tilted her head and that soft, thick brown hair slid over her shoulder.

  What was his second point?

  “Go on,” she said.

  “Umm…” Had he even had a second point? “I haven’t dated anyone this year.”

  “Five whole months. Wow. What’s your reason?”

  She was teasing him; he could hear it in her voice. But he couldn’t answer, because she was the reason. She’d been about to graduate from college and come home for good.

  No, he definitely couldn’t tell her that over the last few years, as he and Dillan had become good friends, Cam had gotten to know her too, and liked—loved?—everything he’d seen. Time to find a much safer topic of conversation. “You found a job yet?”

  “Still looking. Is five months a record for you?”

  “No. Once I didn’t date for a number of years.”

  Her eyebrows rose in surprise.

  “Yeah, from age zero to thirteen. Didn’t date once.”

  “Oh, Cam.” She closed her
eyes, shook her head. “How you must have suffered.”

  He chuckled as they reached his silver Altima. They slid inside and Cam started the engine, then waited for an opening in traffic.

  They’d left downtown behind them before Jordan spoke again. “What are you going to do, now that Dillan’s getting married?”

  “I am going to drop you off at home, then probably stop at Portillo’s on my way home to pick up a couple hot dogs.”

  “You are so exasperating.”

  Yeah, he kinda was, wasn’t he?

  “Would you ever date a friend’s sister?”

  What? Cam focused on the cop ahead who kept him from being able to speed home and drop this woman off. Why would she ask him that? He wracked his brain for another woman in the church’s singles group who had a brother he was friends with.

  He couldn’t come up with one.

  Was she referring to herself?

  “Cam?”

  “Jordan.”

  She huffed in frustration. “What is up with you? You’ve been shutting down on me ever since Dillan and Miska left.”

  Was this how twenty-two-year-olds were now? This clueless and persistent? “Jordan, has it occurred to you that this might be an awkward conversation?”

  “Why? Because you want to ask me out?”

  He stared at the back of the Escalade in front of him, at the taillights flashing red—

  Cam slammed on his brakes, coming close to rear-ending the SUV.

  A sudden jam of traffic formed around them, everyone sitting on their brakes.

  Of all the times to have no distraction to claim.

  He made himself face her.

  She watched him, vulnerability on her own features, in those big eyes, across her mouth.

  Cam blinked back up at her eyes. Was she really saying that she was interested in him?

  He’d wondered last week, after spending Memorial Day at the zoo with her and Miska and Dillan. Miska and Dillan had hung back, caught up in each other, which gave him hours with Jordan. He’d loved every second with her—but she was off limits. Plus, he was too old for her. He was kidding himself, longing to see interest.

  “Do you?” she asked.

  He squinted. Did he what?

  “Want to ask me out?”

  He wet his lips and looked back at the road. What would Dillan say? To him? To Jordan? “Why would you ask that?”

  “Because we’ve practically been double-dating with Dillan and Miska since I got home from school. We’ve spent a lot of time together, and I thought…”

  Silence fell. Cam glanced at his rearview mirror.

  Traffic piled up behind them. Ahead, no one moved. They were going to be here awhile.

  “Jordan, I find it very ironic that traffic stops the moment you ask that question.”

  She kept her head turned just enough that he couldn’t see past all her dark hair. “Why’s that?”

  Because he did want, so much, to date her. Wanted it more every time he was with her.

  It had driven him crazy all last week.

  “Jordan—” His voice gave out. What should he say?

  A smile crept across her lips. “So I was right—you are interested.”

  Denying it—when it was the truth and evidently way more obvious than he’d meant it to be—would only hurt her. He couldn’t do it. But he couldn’t speak either.

  “Are you worried about Dillan?” she asked.

  “Dillan and Garrett. Your dad. Any other male relatives you have.”

  She laughed and twisted in her seat to face him better. “Dillan’s okay with it.”

  That caught him off guard. “Wait a second. You’ve talked to Dillan about… this?”

  She laughed at him again. “Of course. Why do you think we’ve been together so much lately?”

  Dillan had been setting him up? With his sister? His ten-years-younger sister? “Jordan…” He let his head fall back against the headrest. “I admit it; I’d love to date you. But we’re ten years apart.”

  “Nine years and ten months.”

  “Dillan might be okay with this, but—”

  “And six days.”

  He nodded. Like that made a difference. “Your dad will try to kill me. Then ground you.”

  “I’m twenty-two, Cam.”

  “Again. Exactly.”

  This time she had no comeback, only held his gaze like she really didn’t care that he might die—or lose a limb, neck, head—by asking her out.

  “None of that phases you? You really think your dad’s going to be okay with it?”

  She shrugged. “Sure. He knows you.”

  “Some.”

  “He knows you and Dillan are good friends. That’s a plus on your side.”

  Cam grunted.

  “And as long as you don’t jerk me around like Matt did, he’ll let you live.”

  At the mention of her previous on-again, off-again boyfriend, Cam stilled. “That’s over? For good?”

  “It is.” Her smile vanished, but she didn’t look sorry about the situation. “Cam, I’m a twenty-two-year-old woman—”

  He was very aware of that.

  “—who wants to find the right man. The man God wants for me. I’m not looking for a good time or some guy to fill a boyfriend role. I want real love. Marriage. A family.”

  Family. One of the main reasons he’d kept women at arms’ length for so long. Cam studied her. He knew Jordan. She wasn’t playing him, wasn’t making up some story just to use him. She meant all of that.

  Plus she was safe. Dependable. Smart. In time, he probably could trust her with… everything.

  He let the smallest smile break through. “I don’t know, Jordan. You’re pretty forward. Back in my day, a girl would never—”

  “They would too, and you know it.”

  He laughed.

  She held her lower lip between her teeth, something bright and happy shining in her eyes.

  Cam returned the look, setting her smile free.

  “So?” she finally asked.

  He shifted in his seat, planted his palm on top of her headrest. “So, Miss Foster, if your brothers and your dad let me live, would you be interested in dating an old dude like me?”

  She scrunched her shoulders together, looking like a college co-ed again. “I’d love to, Cam.”

  He leaned a bit over the console between them. “No, this is where you stroke my ego and tell me I’m not old.”

  She leaned a little closer. “Cam?” she whispered.

  Oh, she was beautiful. His gaze roamed her face. “Yeah?”

  “Tell me again what it was like before indoor plumbing.”

  ****

  This was it. Had to be. He knelt in front of the updated, eighties-era, side-split house and tied his shoe. Slowly. Didn’t look like anyone was home, but he’d wait on the street leading into this cul-de-sac and watch. He knew what the guy—this Cameron John Winters—looked like. If he lived here, eventually he’d have to drive by.

  Eventually he’d see who owned this home. See if he’d tracked the right guy. Found the right name.

  And when he was certain and could tell his client that the man he was looking for owned this home, they’d be that much closer to the real target, the one his client had been searching for for years.

  The one who, for so long, Winters had been hiding.

  Chapter Two

  By the time they left the interstate, Jordan had convinced Cam to spend the rest of the day with her and her family, waiting for Dillan and Miska to return to celebrate their engagement.

  Cam needed to stop by his house for some things, so forty minutes later he pulled into the driveway of his home, the front a mix of soft-red brick and white siding. He parked in the driveway and sent her a smile that hinted at timidity. “You ready?”

  She’d never been to his house, which was understandable since it wasn’t close to her parents’ home. She returned his smile, forcing complete confidence into hers. “Let’s get you
r stuff.” Once out of the car, she followed him up the concrete drive and half-dozen steps to his front door.

  He unlocked it and pushed it open for her, letting her go in first.

  Jordan walked into a large, simple living room, stairs on her right going up a half level and down another half level. The hardwood floors boasted a dark stain, and the gray sectional sofa and massive flat screen filled one half of the spacious room. Beyond them sat two overstuffed chairs with an end table and lamp between them.

  She faced him as he locked the door behind them. “This is nice. You remodeled all of this?”

  “Gutted it.” He scanned the room, hands on his hips, then flashed her a grin. “This room is clean, but I don’t remember what state my kitchen’s in. Wait here.”

  “Cam—”

  “Nope.” He held up a hand as he walked past her, laughing. “Got to make sure I’m making a good impression.”

  “Fine.” She drew the word out. “I’ll humor you.”

  He disappeared around the living room wall, and in seconds the sounds of the dishwasher filling reached her.

  Smiling, Jordan shook her head. She wandered toward the sectional. “How long have you lived here?”

  “Uh, four years, I think.”

  She searched the walls and end tables for pictures. Nothing. “Did you decorate this place yourself?”

  “What?” he called over clanking glass.

  She turned to face the wall that held the coat closet and ascending staircase. “I said did you decorate—”

  A teddy bear on the bottom step cut off her words.

  “Did I decorate? Yeah. I guess you’d call it decorating.”

  Jordan took a step closer.

  A well-worn, white bear with black eyes and paws. And beneath it, two Matchbox cars.

  “I mean, I bet it looks pretty sterile to you. But it works for me. What does a guy need more than a big couch and TV, right?”

  Why did he have toys on his stairs? Especially looking like they’d been left there for someone to carry upstairs and put away?

  “Jordan?”

  The running water in the kitchen quieted, and Jordan spun toward the couch, her back to the stairs. If he had toys, well, that was… odd. And if he knew she’d seen them, things could get really, really awkward.