“Hey,” Cameron said, his voice deep and as charged as I felt. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I thought I whispered. I looked into his eyes. Almost as green as the canopy of trees at his back. “I… I was a little jealous.” My words fell in the small space between our bodies. So small it could be breached in a single breath. “I was jealous of Diane. I didn’t like that she was flirting with you. But now I feel bad for running like that. Now—”
His free hand came to my jaw, his palm warm and fingers stretching to cup my face. “I know,” he said, chin dipped down. His jaw was clenched with an emotion I couldn’t read. “We’ll apologize later, if it makes you feel better.” A muscle jumped there. “I’ll tell her I’m not interested. That I asked you to come up with something stupid to avoid an awkward conversation.”
My throat dried at his words, the closeness, the awareness rushing up and down my body at the feel of his touch. “My excuse wasn’t that stupid.”
Cameron’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. Instead, his lips parted and he expelled a soft gulp of air. The green in his eyes darkened and he moved closer, stepping into me until my back fell against the side of the truck.
My heart halted, and I was pretty sure a sound might have escaped at the sensation. The way his chest, hips, thighs, were now against mine. The way every point where our bodies touched tingled and burned. Every nerve ending turned into a live wire. I was ablaze.
Cameron hummed, that large hand that had been latched on to my face and neck climbing down my neck, shoulder, side, until reaching my waist. He squeezed. “It’s been driving me so mad.”
“What?” I whispered.
“Wondering if this was something you wanted,” he answered with a frown. I opened my mouth, as if to tell him of course, how could I not want this, you, it’s wanting it that makes me scared, but his hand moved. He clutched the fabric of my jacket. “That tiny whimper you’ve just made,” Cameron said, voice rocky. “You made it that first night. When I put you to bed.”
I closed my eyes. “I did?”
I felt him release my jacket. Then, his hand was at my back. His fingers splayed, climbing to my shoulder blades, reaching the nape of my neck. “You pulled me to bed, too, do you know that?”
I thought I managed a shake of my head. I couldn’t know. I was too distracted, overpowered, by the sensation of his fingers grazing the bottom of my scalp, tangling in my hair, pulling me to him, my body into his.
“You let out that exact sound and pulled me by the shirt,” he rasped out, the words right against my cheek. “And I had to settle with stroking your hair until you were asleep.”
My free hand shot up on its own and latched on to his forearm. I didn’t have words, I couldn’t even think. So I let myself be. I gave myself a chance. Just like Josie had said.
I pulled at his sleeve, hard, like I imagined I’d done that night. Cameron’s body came over me. Eyes still closed, I felt him, his weight, his warmth, the inside of his thighs coming over the sides of mine. I heard something drop to the ground. And then, both his hands on my face.
“Adalyn,” I heard, the word falling right on my lips. “Open your eyes, love.”
I opened them and for the first time I let myself really look at him. He was so devastatingly handsome, so fierce, so absolutely determined that I felt short of breath.
“I like your eyes on me,” he said, his thumb trailing along my jaw, gently, softly, leaving a trail of tingles behind. He grazed the corner of my lips, and I watched his tongue come out and wet his. “What do you want from me?”
I tightened the grip on his arm. “A chance.”
Cameron’s nostrils flared, but he seemed to hesitate.
“You make me feel,” I heard myself whisper. And I didn’t know if something coherent could come out of me, but God, I wanted to try. “You make me feel like I’ve never felt with anyone before, Cameron. You make me want things I never wanted.”
A groan left Cameron’s mouth. His grasp of my face turned desperate, softer, if that could ever happen at the same time. Hips pressed against mine, and twin sighs escaped our lips. He felt so… big, hard, all over me. And he looked in pain. His eyes dipped to my mouth, frantically, his thumb traveling to my bottom lip.
God, I wanted to feel him. Against my lips. I turned my head. Kissed the pad of his thumb.
“Fuck,” he grunted, something behind his eyes lighting up, breaking out, something powerful and dark.
I leaned forward, my patience done. Cameron did the same.
The sound of an engine coming to life sliced right through the moment.
We blinked at each other for an instant, chests heaving with heavy breaths, making sense of our surroundings.
“It’s the truck,” he finally whispered, his forehead falling against my shoulder. He groaned a curse.
Oh. Right. I’d forgotten all about that.
Cameron lifted his head and pulled me away from the side of the vehicle.
The sight of my hands in his made my heart skip a beat. It also reminded me of something. “I think we dropped both our drinks,” I said, looking at the ground and finding them there. I glanced back at Cameron. I flushed. “I… You’re smiling really big.” Something took flight in my chest, and I made myself ask. “Why?”
“Because you’ve just given me a reason.”
“A reason for what?”
“To play the longest game I ever have.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Cameron
The lasagna had five minutes left in the oven and Adalyn wasn’t here.
I went to my phone and picked it up off the counter. I opened my contacts but… my finger halted in the air. I could already see her face. Her brown eyes rolling back and her mouth formulating some smart remark about how impatient I was. Maybe she’d call me a nonna again, just like she had the other day when I shoved more food on her plate without asking her first.
The corners of my lips tipped up and with a shake of my head I dropped the phone.
I really was an impatient bastard. But I didn’t care. I was too old and too set in my ways to change that. I didn’t think I could, either. Just like I couldn’t help the need to… take care of her. Especially when she didn’t herself. Or worse yet, when she didn’t expect anybody else to.
Willow and Pierogi dashing in the direction of the front door was the only sign I needed to know that Adalyn was home. Home. Warmth spread in my chest.
I faced the entrance of the kitchen, much like my cats had just done, and waited silently for her to materialize. A trail of sweet mewing reached my ears, followed by the sound of Adalyn’s soft voice. Her voice always did that when she talked to them, and it fascinated me. I loved how close she was with them, and Willow in particular. Every time I found them curled up on the couch, I had to stop myself from… jumping in and begging her to pet me instead.
I was fucking ridiculous.
Her form popped up at the end of the hall, cheeks pink from the increasingly cold air. I watched her unzip the jacket I’d gotten for her, probably unaware I was there, gawking, all my attention captured by those hands I wanted on me. The jacket opened, revealing one of those silky, thin button-downs she loved so much. She was wearing it with jeans and boots. I’d bought every item of clothing on her except for that shirt and her underwear. And a part of me rebelled at the fact. I wanted to pamper Adalyn. Bury her in nice things I knew she could probably afford herself. I didn’t care.
“Hi,” she said, finally noticing me. Her cheeks filled with a different shade of pink, and her eyes trailed down my body. She did that a lot lately. Openly checked me out. And I fucking loved it. “Cameron?”
I swallowed. “I love your hair today.” I really did. It was down, wavy, free, not straightened or tight in some bun.