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received the message. Hell of a time for his internal voice mail to go on the blink.
    “Great, then I’ll stop by your garage later this week and we can finish working out the sex thing.” She started to swing her legs off the end of the truck bed, but Cameron gripped one ankle to hold her in place.
    How could she be so cool about this conversation when his skin was blistering? It was time to take back some control.
    “I never said yes, princess.”
    “But you didn’t say no.”
    Hell, looked like she had his number.

Chapter Four
    On Thursday morning, having Allie run him over with her SUV sounded like a better time to Cameron than this Chamber of Commerce breakfast meeting.
    Christ, he hated crap like this. As an employee back in Austin, he’d been exempt from this hand-shaking, ass-kissing thing. Why had he assumed he could open his garage’s doors, hunker down inside and play with his cars like a four-year-old with his Hot Wheels?
    It took money to buy cars. It took business to get money. So here he was, at a round banquet table topped with a white cloth and decorated with tiny hay bales and cowboy hats that might fit a Ken doll. If Ken had the cojones to be a cowboy, which he didn’t. Cameron had discovered that the summer Beck’s sister played nudist colony with her huge collection of dolls.
    He needed a helluva lot more sleep if he was thinking about kids’ toys when he should be drumming up business.
    AKA, hell on earth.
    But if he wanted both business and the respect that went with success, he needed to suck it up. He swallowed the lump of reluctance stuck in his throat and stood to shake hands with the local entrepreneurs. His uncomfortable schmoozing earned him a few slaps on the back and questions about the status of college football these days. No one seemed to be talking business. God, how did his hotshot lawyer brother stand to gab at people all day?
    “Try not to look so miserable and it’ll get better.”
    Cameron turned to find a tall redheaded woman grinning at him. She wore skinny jeans, needle-heeled boots and a shirt embroidered with what looked a lot like a penis.
    “I’m Roxanne, owner of Red Light Lingerie.” She stuck out her hand. “And you’re Cameron Wright.”
    “Last time I checked.”
    She caught him staring at the logo above her left breast and tapped the spot. “Promise Keeper vibrators.”
    He closed his eyes. God, give him an alternator any day.
    Her laugh was husky, but it didn’t heat his blood like Allie’s did. Roxanne hooked her arm through his and steered him toward the buffet. “See, not all men can keep their big promises. But the PK XL? That one always keeps his promises.”
    No wonder Allie wasn’t a Goody Two-shoes anymore if this was who she hung out with.
    “Here’s the 411,” Roxanne said. “The real business usually happens after the meeting.” She opened a food warmer and winced at the scrambled eggs inside. At least he thought they were eggs. Either that or week-old yellow oatmeal. “So relax and enjoy yourself.”
    “Thanks for rescuing me.” Cameron dropped a biscuit on his plate and it bounced. “At least I know the food’s not the attraction.”
    “You’ll get the hang of it. Believe me, if a girl from Houston can finally navigate Shelbyville’s politics and traditions, a hometown boy like you should have no problem.” Roxanne pointed to the far side of the room. “I see an open table over there.”
    On their way to the table, Charlie Pfeiffer stopped Cameron and asked about his plans to officially open for business. He also mentioned he’d bought a 1964 Pontiac GTO from one of his clients after his insurance company settled a collision claim. Charlie knew the car still had potential, but didn’t have a clue what to do about it.
    Looked like Cameron had snagged his first job. Maybe this business development stuff wasn’t so hard after all.
    He took a seat next to Roxanne and was chipping away at his biscuit brick when someone