“Well, we are now,” he said and snapped the ring box closed. “So what about us? You’re just going to throw us away?”
Stunned, she gaped at him. “There is no us. Not like that, at least. The sex, as amazing as it is between us, was always meant to be just sex, remember? You’re the one that said it’s not a permanent situation.”
He held up the ring box. “But this is?”
“Maybe…?” Groaning, she dropped her head into her arms.
“Does Preston make you happy?” His voice sounded strained, and she lifted her head. Pain—real, stark pain—etched itself into his expression.
“Oh, fuck. I don’t know,” she confessed. “I need you to be my best friend right now, okay? You always give me the best advice.”
“Yeah, well, you want some friendly advice?” He flipped up the top of the box again and shoved it across the bar until it was right under her nose. “If a man really loves you, he’d never buy this ring. He’d know it’s too big for your taste. He’d know that you’ll never wear it because it’ll rip right through latex gloves and get caught on everything at work. He’d know you’re not a diamond kind of woman. He’d know your favorite color is red and get you a simple band of white-gold studded with rubies.” He slapped a hand down in front of her and something metal clinked against the bar. He didn’t lift his hand right away, but he didn’t have to. She had a good idea what was under there.
Without another word, Cam grabbed his coat from the back of his seat, stuffed his arms in, and walked away. She watched him go, then stared down at the ring he’d left on the bar next to Preston’s. It was just as he described, a thin white-gold band set with little princess-cut rubies.
Sick to her stomach, she picked up the two rings. Oh, no. He wasn’t going to drop this goddamn grenade in front of her and walk away. She shoved away from the bar and ran out onto the street, the cold air stinging her eyes and lungs. She spotted Cam getting into his 4Runner, parked at the curb several cars down.
“Wilde.” She chased after him and planted herself in front of the SUV, hands on her hips as she squinted at the headlights. The engine revved twice, but she stood her ground. “Vehicular homicide gets you three to fifteen years, buddy.”
He shut off the headlights, leaving her seeing spots. With the engine still rumbling softly, he stood on the runner to glare at her over the top of the door.
“Cardoso,” he said in the same frustrated tone she’d used. “Get outta the way.”
She held up the ring. “What the hell is this?”
“Exactly what it looks like.”
His grim expression took the air out of her lungs like a punch to the sternum. “Cam—” At a loss, she stared at him and struggled to find her voice. “But—but you can’t seriously want to marry me. You’re not the marrying type.”
“No, I’m not, which should tell you everything you need to know about how fucking serious I am.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?” He jumped down from the SUV and shut the door with a bang that echoed between the buildings lining the street. As snowflakes swirled in the air, he stalked toward her. This wasn’t the easygoing, roll-with-the-punches Cam she was used to. Honestly, the intensity in him right now kind of frightened her, and part of her wanted to run—but, no, she’d done enough running from him.
She braced her shoulders, lifted her chin, and met his predatory gaze with a glare. “Yes. Ridiculous. How long have you had this thing?”
“About two hours.” His arm snaked around her waist and dragged her toward his body. Hot, cinnamon scented breath fanned her cheek as he traced the line of her jaw with his lips.
Her hands flattened against his chest. She should push him away. She absolutely should, but the heat coming off him made her that much more aware of the cold air at her back, and she wanted to burrow into him, luxuriate in his warmth, breathe in the cinnamon and dark spice scent that always shot straight to her libido and was unique to Camden Wilde. His hard lips followed the curve of her ear, brushed over her closed eyes, down her nose. She shuddered, her fingers curling into the front of his coat of their own volition.
He hesitated over her mouth, their breaths mingling into a single cloud. His gaze lifted from its hungry perusal of her lips and met hers. She expected lust, heat, hunger. Instead, his blue eyes were resigned. Maybe even a little sad.
Groaning, he rested his forehead against hers. “I kept thinking if I was patient long enough, you’d see us for what we are.”
Eva pushed against his chest and he released her without protest. Stepping back, she hugged herself to fend off the cold that suddenly pierced her to her core. “What do you think we are?”
“We’re soul mates. The real deal.”
Silence stretched between them as he waited for her to respond. But she couldn’t come up with anything coherent. Cam, her soul mate? Not possible…