In Too Deep: In This Moment, #4

By A.D. McCammon

When Catelyn Shea's first love walks back into her life, she's conflicted—torn between her heart and head.

 

Until they spend a forbidden night together. She's always played by the rules, but he makes her want to break them all. 

 

Lawrence Grier was never supposed to fall in love with Catelyn. He's spent years trying to let her go—wishing he could turn back time.

 

When tragedy brings them back together, all those buried feelings quickly resurface.

Fate has given him another chance, and this time, he's not holding back. No matter the cost.

 

Once he wagers his heart, it begins to seem as if history is repeating itself.

 

Catelyn is questioning how big of a price she's prepared to pay.

But Lawrence is willing to risk it all for love—

Even if that means being a little selfish.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.D. McCammon
• Release date: Mar 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9781386428824

A.D. McCammon

Amber McCammon is a daughter, sister, wife, mother, and avid reader who also happens to write contemporary romance/women's fiction. She currently has three self-published novels, In This Moment, Crushed, and In the Gray. All of which are part of a standalone series. The fourth is expected to release in late 2018.  Amber lives in Tennessee, born and raised, though she recently left her heart in the PNW. She's a Ravenclaw, fall is her favorite season, and she believes that music is food for the soul.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Lightning strikes across the murky night sky, illuminating the dark interior of my car. My spine straightens against the seat as I wait for the thunder, counting the seconds as they pass.

One. Two. Three. Four.

The loud boom sounds overhead, and I inhale a sharp breath, as if I hadn’t been anticipating it. The truth is, it’s not the storm brewing outside that has me on edge. It merely reflects the chaos inside my head.

My erratic heart beats wildly in my chest as I pull my eyes away from the building I’ve been parked in front of for the past hour, waiting and watching for him. I lean up to check my reflection in the rearview mirror, my hand trembling as I try again to wipe away the black smudges under my eyes. There’s no use. I look as wrecked as I feel. I collapse into the seat, leaning back into the headrest as I close my tired eyes.

This is not how I expected my day to end. When I agreed to go to Spencer’s for dinner tonight, I was certain he was going to propose. He must’ve been planning to, at least at some point. There wouldn’t have been a ring otherwise. Only, instead of getting down on one knee and slipping that diamond on my finger, he ended things. Not that I blame him; he was right to do it.

After I accidentally confessed what I’d done, how I betrayed his love and trust, there was a look of shock and confusion on his face. Realizing my exposed secret had nothing to do with his decision for breaking things off, I lashed out, accusing him of things I knew he’d never do. I was the one who’d done something unforgivable. Not Spencer.

If that hadn’t been awful enough, I left Spencer’s and went straight to my best friend’s house. When she opened her door, I unleashed all my shame, fear, and sorrow onto her. It was like I couldn’t control the words coming out of my mouth, like someone else was standing there saying those horrible things. Through it all, Lori remained calm and collected. But I saw the hurt in her eyes. I don’t see how she can ever forgive me. I know I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

In a matter of hours, my entire life crumbled at my feet, and I’m the only one to blame. I’ve been selfish, stupid, and reckless. Even now, even after I’ve managed to alienate myself from two of the people I care for most in this world, I’m still making poor choices. I should be trying to fix things, to make them right. Instead, I’m here, for him.

My breath is ragged as I draw it in, and it does nothing to ease the tightness in my chest. Another loud rumble in the sky causes my head to shoot up and eyes to pop open, landing back on the building just as he exits through the front door.

An icy panic runs through my veins as he works to lock up the shop. I still have no clue what I’m going to say or why I’m even here. When it comes to him, all thinking and common sense seem to go out the window. My mind and body respond on an odd impulsive instinct to be near him. It’s that driving force giving me the courage to get out of my car.

Lawrence Grier knocked my world off its axis when I met him twenty years ago, and he managed to do it again when he walked back into it a few weeks ago. He was the catalyst to my imploding life.

Still unaware of my presence, he heads toward the parking lot, and I hold my breath as I shut the driver’s side door. When his eyes finally land on me, his steps hesitate before he begins taking quick, angry strides in my direction.

My stomach drops.

By the time he comes to a stop in front of me, my mouth is dry, my brain empty. His teal eyes lock on mine as he folds his arms.

What are you doing here, Cat? His words are clipped, his voice strained.

He isn’t happy to see me. It hurts, but I can’t say I blame him. The last time we saw each other, I hadn’t been kind. It felt like I was drowning, and he was the thing pulling me under. I realize now how wrong I’d been.

I bite into my lip to keep my tears at bay. I’m not sure.

His nostrils flare as he sucks in an agitated breath, his eyes leaving mine and falling to the ground as he shakes his head. It’s been a long day, and I’m pretty sure we said everything that needed to be said the last time we spoke.

He couldn’t be more wrong about that. Everything I said to him that day was a lie. It was all so terrifying. How I feel about him, the things I’d done, and all the ways my life would change if I faced any of it. Like a coward, I’d chosen the safe path and hurt him in the process.

When he lifts his head, the weariness behind his eyes has been replaced with fury. His hard glare locks on mine again, awaiting my response, but words fail me. I shift on my feet as I tuck my hair behind my ear, and his eyes narrow as they flicker over to my left hand.

He snarls, his expression a mixture of disgust and condescension. Still no ring I see.

Sighing, I shake my head. There was a ring, but I walked away without it.

His back straightens, his lashes fluttering as confusion washes over his features. He scratches his head and runs his palm over his face before taking a step toward me, leaving only a sliver of space between us.

What does that mean? Are you saying you aren’t going to marry him? This time, there’s a seductive hopefulness in his tone.

Nodding, I swallow the lump in my throat. It’s over.

No, he breathes. Please don’t do that. Don’t dance around the facts. I need you to be clear. Did you break things off, or did he?

My stomach knots, and I duck my head as my eyes fill with tears, stuffing my hands in the back pockets of my jeans. He did.

His dark laughter echoes through the nearly empty parking lot, and I cringe as I look up at him. He cups his head in his hands, making a circle as he spins away from me then back. His stare is cold as his hands fall back to his sides.

So, what? You thought you could come here and change your mind? Now that he doesn’t want you, I can have you. Is that it?

My eyes widen as I pull in a quick, sharp breath. His words feel like a physical blow, one I know I deserve. Of course not. It’s not like that. His jaw tics, his narrowed eyes unblinking as I take a deep breath to calm my quivering chin. I know you probably hate me after the things I said, but I didn’t mean them. I was just…I couldn’t…

My voice breaks as thunder cracks above us, forcing me to give up my search for the right words. A shiver rocks through my body as a gust of wind blows around me. I wrap myself in a hug, hiccupping a sob.

A tear rolls down my face as he lets out a defeated sigh. My breath stills when he reaches up to brush it away with the pad of his thumb. His hand lingers at my jawline, and he dips his head, as if he’s going to kiss me. He stops just short of touching his lips to mine, looking as if it pains him to do so.

Damn it, Cat. Why did you come here? What do you want?

I don’t know. It’s a lie.

I know. I’ve known all along. But I’ve always been too afraid to admit it.

I still can’t. Not even now.

He loosens a sorrowed breath that brushes across my lips, his eyes closing as he rests his forehead against mine. I remain frozen, fighting the urge to embrace him while relishing in his touch. He pulls away, taking a step back as he removes his hand. When he finds my gaze again, my heart sinks with dread.

I fell in love with you even when I knew I shouldn’t. I continued to be in love with you even when I tried not to. Even after years apart. Even now, I love you. But I can’t stick around while you figure out what you want, hoping it will be me.

I’m here now. Doesn’t that count for anything? I hate the desperation in my voice.

He sighs, shaking his head. You were going to marry a man out of some sense of obligation. For all I know, you’re only here now because it’s what I want. You need to figure out what you want, to think about your own happiness for once. I can’t do this with you until you know for sure. I don’t want to spend my life wondering if you’re with me because it’s really what you want, or if you’re simply trying to right a wrong.

Tears stream down my face as he begins to back away, and I adamantly shake my head. I know what he needs to hear, what I need to say, but all I can manage is a simple plea. Please don’t go.

He freezes, as if reconsidering, his head shaking as he fights internally with himself. Rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks puff as he blows out a long breath. When he shoves his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie, he lifts his eyes, looking through me instead of at me.

Goodbye, Cat.

With that, he turns on his heel and jogs away.

Then, as if on cue, the sky opens, releasing a pounding rain.

Perfect.

1

3 Weeks Earlier

My hands are shaking as I park my car outside Caroline’s childhood home, another bout of emotion hitting me like a tidal wave. The second I saw her name on my cellphone this morning, I knew what was coming. It was the call I’d been dreading for months, the one I’d been trying to prepare myself for, but I suppose there are some things you’ll never be ready for.

One of them being losing the people we love.

Caroline is one of my oldest friends. If I can even call her that. She’s more like family. We don’t see each other or talk very often these days, but I know she’ll always be there for me, just as I will for her. We grew up together, and there was a time when we were inseparable.

When she told me this morning they didn’t expect her father to live through the day, it took all my strength to hold it together. Listening to her sobs as she described how his condition had gone from bad to worse overnight was gut wrenching. Dave has been dealing with cancer for years now, but the past seven months have really taken a toll on him, on everyone in her family.

My contacts feel like sandpaper on my tired eyes. They’re bone dry from all the tears I’ve cried. Still, as I take in my surroundings, more begin to spill. The tiny brick and stucco homes look more worn down than the last time I was here, the trees sprinkled around them seeming less massive than what I remember from my childhood.

This neighborhood holds so many memories for me. My family lived just one street over until we moved across town when I was nine. I rode my bike on these streets, played in these yards, and went trick-or-treating at these houses. Even after my parents moved us away, I’d spent a good portion of my time here. This was my home away from home, where I spent my weekends and summers. But it’s been over a decade since I’ve come here, and I hate that this is what it took to get me back.

As I attempt to dry my face, I notice movement in the front window of the house, the curtains sweeping back in place as someone retreats. They know I’ve arrived, and I can’t put this off any longer. Discarding the used tissue, I take a deep breath and wipe my clammy hands on my jeans, checking my reflection in the rearview mirror. I’d been smart enough not to wear mascara, but my eyes are bloodshot. There’s no fixing the red rims around them, or the puffiness under them. So, I grab another handful of Kleenex and stuff them in my pocket before getting out of the car.

Caroline’s brother-in-law, Jordan, opens the door for me as soon as I approach, giving me a brief hug hello before ushering me inside. Walking into Dave and Sarah’s home feels surreal. All the furniture, flooring, and appliances have been updated, yet everything feels the same. It even smells the same, like years of family dinners and holiday gatherings, like home.

Robbie, Caroline’s younger brother, is sitting at the kitchen table. His elbows are resting on it, his head cradled in his hands and shoulders slumped, making his normally intimidating presence seem almost small.

Caroline told me her brother hasn’t been around much lately, and something tells me that’s haunting him right now.

Hi.

Robbie’s vacant, walnut-brown eyes lift to find me, and he runs his hand through his thick, dark hair as he stands. My eyes widen slightly, giving away my surprise when he opens his arms for me, but I round the table and walk into his embrace without hesitation. My bottled-up emotions knot in my stomach as I wrap my arms around him, his linebacker frame engulfing me.

Robbie has always been like a brother to me, but we have a lot of history. Not all of it good.

His hug is so firm it restricts my breathing, but I don’t complain, squeezing him back just as tightly. I’m not a tiny person myself, not in height or width, but I certainly feel that way in his arms. It brings me comfort, like a child in the protective arms of a loved one. He releases me and meets my gaze with tired, sad eyes.

Care is in the back with Dad. His tone drips with defeat, and it makes me want to hug him again. Instead, he sits back at the table as I move away. Mom and Pam are back there with him too.

I nod and turn toward the hall. It feels as if he’s dismissing me, but I’m not sure I’m ready to face what’s waiting for me behind the last door on the left. My feet reluctantly begin to carry me in that direction, but Dave’s cries of pain echo down the narrow path, stopping me in my tracks as my entire body stiffens with fear.

Before I can retreat, Pam, Caroline’s older sister, comes out of the room, spotting me. She gives me a weak smile that doesn’t reach her wet eyes and walks over. I’m grateful when she doesn’t try to hug me, knowing I’d soak up all her emotions like a sponge until they seeped out of me.

You can go in to see Daddy, if you want. Mom and Care are in there with him.

Moving my eyes past her to his bedroom door, I nod in understanding and continue in that direction. Once I’m inside the room, it takes my mind a moment to process everything.

Dave is lying in the bed with his eyes closed, looking much frailer than the last time I saw him. Even if he wasn’t moaning in agony, you can physically see the toll his cancer is taking on him. His cheeks are sunken in. His round belly now flat. His skin is the color of ash.

Caroline, sitting next to him on the far side of the bed holding his hand, only takes her gaze off him long enough to acknowledge my presence. Her eyes and hair are almost identical to her brother’s, though her short, thin frame makes it hard to believe they’re siblings. She looks more like a little girl than a full-grown woman. The sorrow in her brief glance is pleading, as if she’s begging me to fix him.

Fuck you, cancer.

Caroline’s mother, Sarah, is on the other side of the bed, fussing over his blankets and pillows. Once she finishes, she turns her attention to his nightstand, rearranging pill bottles. When she finally notices me, she gives a mumbled greeting before flurrying out the door with the excuse of needing to call hospice again.

I walk over to stand next to Caroline. Hey. How are you holding up?

She doesn’t bother to look at me as she shakes her head. After listening to her break down this morning, I know it’s taking everything in her to hold herself together. Daddy, Cat is here. Dave attempts to respond, but it’s nothing more than grunting, and my heart seizes in my chest. He’s in so much pain, Caroline whispers, still not taking her focus off her father. Hospice wasn’t scheduled to be here until Monday, but… Her words trail off, though she doesn’t need to finish the thought. He won’t be here by then. We don’t have anything to give him for the pain. Momma has been trying to get someone here all day. I don’t understand what’s taking so long.

I place my hand on her shoulder, giving her a light squeeze. I’m sure someone will be here soon.

Of course, I don’t know if that’s true, but it’s the only thing I know to say. The only way I know to comfort her right now. I’ve been cursing myself all morning; angry I haven’t been there for Caroline during all this. The last time I’d seen any of them was a few weeks after Christmas when Dave was admitted to the hospital for pain. Before that, he seemed to be doing so well. Everyone thought he was in remission, that he would get to be around for many years to come and see his grandchildren grow up. But it was during that stay we learned the cancer had been spreading. It had progressed so much his only option was to try some experimental treatments. Those had only produced negative effects on his body.

Caroline stands, finally meeting my eyes. I should probably go out back to check on the kids. William is out there with them, but he’s a mess. Caroline’s husband and I haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, but my heart goes out to him today too. He and Dave have become so close over the years. Do you mind sitting with Daddy for a minute?

Panic runs through me like a shockwave, but I force a smile and nod, stepping aside so she can leave the room. Once I’m alone with Dave, my heart beats angrily against my ribcage. I know this is the perfect time for me to say my goodbye, but I’m not sure I can handle it.

It may sound morbid, but I practiced what I wanted to say to Dave all morning. It isn’t every day you have to prepare yourself for the last conversation you’ll ever have with someone. I want it to go as smoothly as possible. My plan is to tell him how I love him like a father, and how much I appreciate everything he and Sarah did for me as a kid. I’ve considered even throwing in some humor about how I used to wake them up at night and eat them out of house and home as if I were one of their own. But standing here now, looking at him and knowing he’ll be gone soon, it’s all a jumbled mess in my head.

Dave? It’s Cat. His head moves in my direction, and for the first time since I entered the room, he tries to open his eyes. When his lips curve into a faint smile and he attempts to say my name, I nearly lose my composure.

I manage to keep myself together, only to begin weeping two seconds into my rehearsed speech. My sobs become uncontrollably loud, and I have no clue what I’m saying by the time Sarah comes back in the room, not so subtly leading me right back out of it. Not that I blame her. We may all be aware Dave is dying, but my little performance practically rubbed everyone’s nose in it.

After my mortifying moment, I find a quiet corner in the living room to hide and collect myself. Dave and Sarah’s tiny home is packed with people now. Siblings, cousins, neighbors, and church members, in addition to their three kids, their spouses, and nine grandkids—each kid having three of their own. It’s all too much, and it’s only adding to my anxiety.

I mentally check out, watching people come and go, nodding and smiling on cue. I’m here, but not. It’s what I do, my defense mechanism. Like a turtle retreating into their shell.

Just when I think the house can’t possibly hold another person, I hear the screech of the front door opening, and I feel him before