Later, with Baxter snuggled into a mound of blankets in front of the fireplace, his belly full, Chappy sat on the couch with his arm around Carlise. She’d snuggled into him and opened a paperback book from his shelf. They’d been reading like that, cuddled up together under another fluffy blanket, for at least an hour.
It was taking all of Chappy’s self-control not to rip the book out of her hands and throw her down on the cushions to have his wicked way with her. But Bob had been right—he needed to tell her about the cameras.
“I have to tell you something,” Chappy blurted.
She closed her book and looked up at him. “It sounds serious,” she said, her brow furrowed.
“It’s not. I mean, I don’t think it’s a big deal . . . but you might.”
“What is it?”
“I have cameras,” he said bluntly. “For protection.”
Carlise nodded. “That’s probably smart. This cabin isn’t exactly on the beaten path, and if someone wanted to break in, it’s not as if any neighbors would see and call the police.”
“Exactly. There’s nothing here that I’d care too much about if it was stolen. When I’m not here, I don’t leave any firearms or anything else that could be used to hurt someone else. But I don’t like the thought of someone in my space. This cabin is a refuge for me, and if someone were to break in, I would want to know about it.”
“I can understand that.”
“The thing is . . . the cameras aren’t just outside. They’re in here too.” Chappy held his breath as he waited for Carlise to freak out. He could see her processing what he’d just said.
She bit her lip.
“They aren’t connected to any service or anything, just an app on my phone. I’m the only one who can access them. I’ve set up a ton of security protocols, so the likelihood of someone hacking in and watching the footage is slim to none. The app holds recordings for thirty days before they’re deleted.” He was speaking fast, but he wanted her to know that he wasn’t hoarding hundreds of hours of videos or anything.
“Bob said I needed to tell you. That I’d be a dick if I didn’t. So I’m letting you know.”
She lifted her chin at that. “You aren’t a dick,” she said.
Chappy huffed out a breath. “That’s all you have to say?” he asked. “I tell you that your every move for the last week, except when you were in the bathroom, is on video and you’re more concerned about my friend calling me names?”
“Well . . . first, I’m not that surprised about the cameras. You did tell me that you’re protective. I assumed that meant protective about your stuff as well as your friends. If I’m completely honest, I’m not thrilled about being on film. But I trust you, Riggs. If you say that no one will see it but you, I believe you.”
Chappy could only stare at her for a long moment. How the hell had he gotten so lucky?
“Where are they?” she asked, looking around the room.
“One’s there,” he said, pointing to the corner across from them. “And the other’s in the corner of the kitchen, pointing into the room.”
She turned to meet his gaze once more. “Did you watch the ones from when you were sick?”
He wouldn’t lie to her, though he didn’t go into detail about how he was able to download them in order to watch. “I scanned through them. But it was more to make sure I didn’t hurt you in any way than to spy on you.”
“I didn’t take anything. Or look through your stuff.”
“I know.” They stared at each other for a long moment. “I’ll turn them off for the rest of the time you’re here,” he told her, surprising himself with the offer.
She studied him for a moment, then said, “You have them for a reason. To make you feel safe. I’m assuming your need for them is related to what happened to you.”
As usual, her insight was dead on. He shrugged. “Being held captive took away my trust in humankind for a long time. I didn’t trust anyone. The other drivers on the road, people I passed on the street, the hikers along the AT. It ate at me. I wondered who might be out to get me, what they’d take from me. Our captors stole the security I’d always took for granted. I hate them for that,” he admitted quietly.
“Don’t turn them off,” she said firmly.
“What?”
“Leave them on. I’d never want to do anything to make you feel like you did when you were a POW.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you—” he began, but she put her hand over his mouth and shook her head.
“I know. If you need them to feel comfortable here in your safe place, then they stay on.”
Chappy pulled her hand off his mouth and kissed the palm. “I watched us. Sleeping,” he clarified. “You climbing onto the bed when I was sick . . . grabbing you and not letting go. You didn’t freak out, didn’t try to get away. You just talked me down. And when you fell asleep, I couldn’t take my eyes away from the sight of you in my arms.”
Carlise swallowed hard.
“If I don’t turn those cameras off . . . when we make love, it’ll be on film,” he reminded her. “But no one—and I mean no one—will ever see it. That’s between us. I’m not sharing what you give to me with anyone else. If that makes you uncomfortable even a little, I’ll turn them off before we go to bed and turn them back on in the morning.”
“Can I see them?”
“What? The videos?”
“Yeah. Of us sleeping. When you were sick.”
“Of course. They won’t be deleted for another few weeks or so.” When she didn’t respond, he asked, “Oh, you mean now?”
“If that’s okay?”
Chappy nodded. His heart was in his throat. She’d said she didn’t mind the cameras, but that might change once she saw the videos.
He disentangled himself from her and got out from under the blanket, then went to the kitchen where his cell phone was sitting on the counter. He’d charged it earlier, when the generator was running. The phone itself didn’t work for calls, but the satellite internet, when it was working properly, had enough power to run the apps. And since the videos had downloaded onto the hard drive when he’d turned on the generator that first time, they could be viewed.
He went back to the couch and sat next to her. Chappy was relieved when she cuddled into him once again. He pulled up the app on the phone and rewound to when she’d first arrived.
He handed the phone to her and showed her how to scrub through the videos. He watched over her shoulder as she scanned the footage.
Ten full minutes went by before she turned off the phone, reached over him, and placed it on the small table next to the couch.
Then she shocked the shit out of him by straddling his lap. The blanket fell off her shoulders, but Chappy barely noticed. His hands went to her waist as he stared into her eyes.
“Can we save clips from the videos?” she asked.
Chappy frowned and nodded. “Yeah.”
“Good. When you download today’s footage, I want the one of Baxter walking into the cabin for the first time today. And maybe one of you cooking, because you’re hot when you’re holding a spatula, Riggs Chapman,” she teased.
For the first time since he’d brought up the cameras, Chappy’s muscles fully relaxed. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been. “You aren’t freaked out by the cameras?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I didn’t do anything I’m ashamed of. And it’s not like you’ve got one in the bathroom or anything . . . because that would’ve been a completely different thing. I trust you, Riggs. But . . . maybe you could delete the videos of us making love before the thirty days are up?” she asked tentatively.
“They’ll be gone as soon as I can download the footage,” he vowed.
She smiled then. A sexy smile that made his cock twitch in his pants. “Well . . . maybe not immediately. I’ve never been one to watch porn, but this might be a good time to start. I mean, maybe watching us together won’t be so bad.” This time, her smile was shy.
Chappy’s brain felt as if it was going to explode. “Damn, woman,” he sighed.
“Too weird?” she asked with a grimace.
“No! You’re perfect.”
She shook her head. “I’m not. I have flaws, Riggs. Don’t put me on some pedestal.”
“Fine. Then you’re perfect for me,” he told her.