Great and Precious Things

by Rebecca Yarros

  I lost myself in her, drawing out every sigh, every demand for more, fighting the primal need to have her in every possible way. She broke our kiss only to reach between us and pull the hem of her shirt over her head.

  “Willow,” I warned, keeping my eyes on hers.

  “Cam.” She dared me with those hazel eyes, then stripped the shirt from her arms and threw it to the floor beside her couch.

  “You’re killing me here,” I growled, hoping for a little mercy.

  “Good,” she whispered before taking my lower lip between her teeth and biting gently.

  God, I could feel the lace of her bra through my shirt. “Do you have any fucking clue how hard it is to keep my hands off you?”

  She gripped my hand in hers and put it on her breast. “Let me help you out.”

  My hips instinctually rolled against hers, and I groaned at the feel of her filling my palm perfectly. Everything about Willow fit almost too well, too perfectly. My thumb grazed her nipple, and she gasped. I should have stopped us, should have reminded her that we had somewhere to be. Instead I made her gasp again.

  “Please,” she whispered against my lips. I loved that sound.

  The strands of my self-control frayed. It had been almost six weeks of dates and working together, of dinners and lunches, of good-night kisses that lasted until both our lips were swollen and aching. Three weeks since I took her up to the mine. I could have lied and said I wasn’t counting, but I was. Counting and savoring every single minute, and yeah, waiting for the other shoe to drop. For something—anything—to be wrong between us. Instead, everything with Willow was the easiest kind of perfect I could have hoped for.

  Which was why it would hurt even more if this fell apart. If she decided she couldn’t handle the scorn of the town she loved—and she shouldn’t have to. I could do everything right for the rest of my life, and it wouldn’t balance out my past in Alba’s eyes.

  One day, Willow would realize that, too, and she’d be forced to choose. Really choose. Not just get carried away in the hot springs by a decade of longing. She’d have to choose between me and her reputation—the flying gossip and the palpable scorn. I’d bear it all for her if I could, but that wasn’t an option.

  There was a reason we hadn’t gone out together in Alba much.

  First, I didn’t want that shit to touch her. Ever.

  Second, I didn’t have a great track record of being chosen.

  “What are you waiting for?” she asked.

  “You.” I brushed her hair from her face. “Always you.”

  “If I stripped off all my clothes, would it potentially move you in the direction of using this incredible body?” She ran her hands down my back, and I groaned.

  “If you stripped off all your clothes, there’s zero chance in hell we’d make it to opening day.” Even the best intentions had limits.

  “Opening… Oh crap!” Her eyes darted to the wall. “Cam, we’re late!”

  “Well, yeah.” I dipped my head and kissed her.

  She laughed and pushed at my shoulders.

  “What happened to you stripping off your clothes?” I teased.

  “It’s opening day, that’s what!”

  “So you only want me when it’s convenient to you?” I let my mouth drop in mock indignation.

  “Are you saying that if I choose to forgo opening day, you’ll take me to bed?” Her eyes danced with pure mischief.

  “No.”

  “Ugh!” She shoved at my shoulders again, and I let her up, laughing as she sent me to the floor.

  I landed on my back, thank God, so the part of me that definitely didn’t want to go to opening day wasn’t massacred.

  Willow slid off the couch and straddled me. “You have the self-control of a saint,” she muttered as she reached past my shoulder to grab her shirt, which put those glorious breasts right in my face. Pale-lavender lace and creamy skin filled my vision.

  “Don’t be so sure about that.” My mouth watered, and that praised and cursed control snapped. The skin of her back was softer than satin as my hands splayed to hold her in place. Then I took her nipple between my lips and sucked her through the lace of her bra.

  She whimpered, and the sound drove me right to the edge. I scraped her with my teeth and groaned when she rocked her hips against me in response. The denim between us did nothing to mask the friction or the heat.

  My hands moved from her back to the rounded curve of her ass. Screw opening day. I was staying right here. There were plenty of ways to satisfy her without—

  “We really have to go,” she outright whined and sat up, taking her breasts with her. “I swear, Cam, if I couldn’t feel how much you want me right now, I’d seriously think I don’t do it for you.” She tugged her shirt on and pulled her hair free of the neckline.

  “Trust me,” I told her, switching my grip to her hips. “You do it for me. You more than do it for me. You’re it for me.”

  “Don’t even think about getting all sweet with me, Camden Daniels. You have me wound tighter than a freaking…” Her forehead wrinkled. “I don’t even know. Pick something that gets wound up.”

  I couldn’t contain the laughter that sputtered from my lips, and her eyes narrowed as she climbed off me.

  “It’s a good thing I love you,” she mumbled as she grabbed her shoes and put them on. The words sank a little deeper into me, just like they did every time she said them. If I wasn’t careful, one day I’d start depending on them—on her. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  I rose and stretched, noting with more than a little satisfaction that her eyes went straight to the strip of skin I’d exposed while doing so. “Two reasons, really,” I explained, walking to her hall closet to grab her jacket.

  “Which would be?” She followed me.

  I ignored the screaming protest in my dick that I was once again choosing not to take what she was offering and pulled her jacket from its hanger. Then I turned to face an equally frustrated Willow.

  “First, I’ve never been with someone who I could kiss and laugh with in the same thirty seconds. I like it.”

  Her expression softened, and a ghost of a smile lifted the corners of her lips.

  “And second—” I handed Willow her jacket. “Your shirt is on inside out.”

  She looked down and let loose an exasperated sigh before turning away and walking down the hall.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To my bedroom. Show’s over for you, buddy.”

  That only got me laughing again as I let my head bang back against the closet door.

  Fifteen minutes later, I parked the Jeep in the owners-only lot just above Main Street.

  “There must be a thousand people,” Willow said as she jumped down from the Jeep.

  “Let’s hope. It’s one of the three busiest weekends, right?” At least if nothing had changed in the decade I’d been gone. The dirt road that served as Alba’s main source of income was a kaleidoscope of colors as tourists wandered.

  “Yep. Mother’s Day, Fourth of July, and Labor Day. Just like clockwork.” She held out her hand, and I took it. “You ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.” We walked through the parking lot, then took the flight of steps down to Main Street. I was never a big fan of opening day—or the season, really. Not that I didn’t understand the purpose. Alba only existed because people thought our ghost town was worth visiting.

  I’d just never quite gotten what was so interesting about relics from our past when we could be building the future. Alba was in desperate need of updates.

  “What are you thinking?” Willow asked as we reached the bottom step, coming out behind the surveyor’s office.

  “That I should talk to John Royal about installing micro-hydroelectric intakes along the creek. They’re small and ridiculously effectiv
e, especially since the creek never freezes entirely. It would be a hell of a lot more dependable in the winter months than the ancient system we have going right now. I’ve thought about putting one up at my place, but it makes more sense to start in town.”

  She paused, looking at me with something a lot like wonder.

  “What?” I asked, stilling.

  “What else?” Her forehead puckered. “What would you change in the town? And no, I didn’t open the door for you to go off on the gossip habits. You know what I mean. What would you modernize?”

  “The bridge,” I answered without a second thought. “It needs to be reinforced or completely rebuilt. Not this year but soon, with the influx of traffic we’ll be expecting when the mine opens.” I shrugged.

  “And?” she prompted, tucking her hair behind her ears.

  “We need greenhouses. There’s at least a month up here when some people can’t get down the pass. Mount Princeton has a ton of greenhouses, and they’re only a thousand feet beneath us. I don’t see why we couldn’t have a little self-sustainability. I actually started one yesterday at my place.”

  Her smile was shy, like she knew a secret I didn’t.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked. “It’s only fair, since I answered.”

  “That you said we. You’re settling in, and it’s pretty incredible to watch, especially for someone who hated growing up here.” She squeezed my hand.

  I quickly bent and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “I didn’t hate everything about growing up here.”

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  My hands cupped her face, and I swallowed the words that seemed to live on the tip of my tongue. “I have no clue why, but I’m incredibly thankful.”

  “There you are!”

  I dropped my hands and stepped away from Willow as Thea called out to us, coming around the building with her son.

  Willow gave me a questioning glance but turned on a smile for Thea. “Hey! Hi, Jacob!” She dropped down to his eye level. “Already into the caramel corn?”

  “Yep! Want some?” he asked, his voice high and bright.

  “That’s super nice of you to share, but no, thank you. You can gobble it all.” She ruffled his light hair and stood. “How is it going at your place?”

  “I checked in with Pat about an hour ago, and he said it’s booming as usual. Having the only saloon is a definite advantage. I’m just taking this guy home for a nap.” She nudged Jacob, who pouted up at her.

  “Sawyer doesn’t have to nap!”

  “Well, I’m not Sawyer’s mommy,” Thea replied with a patient smile.

  “Speaking of Sawyer, is Gideon around?” I asked.

  “He’s over with James and Sawyer at the blacksmith’s. It’s good to see you outside the Historical Society, Cam.” She arched an eyebrow over a less-patient smile. “Maybe you could bring my best friend around every once in a while?”

  I winced. “Point taken.”

  “Good. It’s not like everyone doesn’t know that you’re together. And I’m super happy for you, of course,” she added at Willow. “It’s about darn time, if you ask me.”

  Willow wrapped her arm around my waist, and I lifted mine over her shoulder. “We’ve just been…” She looked up at me, and the skin between her eyebrows crinkled. “I don’t know.”

  “Not in Alba,” I stated bluntly. “I think you might be the only person happy for us, and Willow doesn’t need to take any crap for it.” Score a point for me—I remembered not to swear in front of Jacob.

  Jacob, who was a mirror image of Pat, who hated me for bringing his best friend home in a box.

  “I’m not worried,” Willow promised, leaning into me.

  “That makes one of us.”

  Thea’s gaze bounced between us. “Well, you’re never going to get past the gossip if you don’t get through it first. And the Cam I knew never gave a fig what people said.”

  “Still don’t. I only care when Willow’s involved.”

  Her lips flattened, and she shot a frustrated look at Willow. “Good luck with that one. Call me later?”

  Willow agreed, and the two embraced before Thea took Jacob up the stairs to the parking lot on the hill above.

  “You got grouchy fast,” Willow chastised.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets. “It’s just easier when we’re at home.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Or when we’re in Salida? Or Buena Vista? Or hiking? Or anywhere but Alba?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “You know what would make you way less grouchy?” She slid her arm through mine, openly defying my attempt to pull away.

  “Going home?” We took the wooden path that led behind the buildings and turned between the surveyor’s office and the bank.

  “Sex.”

  I shook my head, but I laughed when I did it.

  We walked into the crowd of tourists and fell into the current of traffic flowing up the wooden boardwalk that served as a sidewalk.

  “You know, you’ve held my hand in public before.”

  “We weren’t together.” Because somehow that was different.

  “Why would that matter?”

  “It was one thing to mock everyone who can’t keep their thoughts to themselves, but it’s another to open you up to scrutiny when we’re actually in a relationship.”

  “You know what makes relationships better?” she teased.

  “Don’t start with me, Willow Bradley.”

  “Can I finish with you?” She grinned up at me, happily tucked into my arm as we walked. “No? Later, then.”

  We were in the full view of Alba. Lightning didn’t strike me dead. No one whispered or glared. The world didn’t stop turning.

  Because it was the season and we were mixed in with a thousand tourists who didn’t give a shit who we were. We had the kind of freedom that only the anonymity of a crowd could give.

  I pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

  “Willow!”

  So much for being anonymous.

  Willow’s mom stood on the front steps of the original city hall and leaned over the railing to wave.

  “Why don’t you go ahead—”

  Willow’s arm locked on mine. “And go to see Mom with you?” She finished my sentence and shot me a look that dared me to correct her.

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what I meant.”

  “No need to be sarcastic,” she chided. “If you can handle the Taliban, you can definitely hold your own against my mother.”

  Given the way Mrs. Bradley was looking at me, I wasn’t so sure. Oh, she liked me all right. She just wasn’t sure she liked me with her daughter.

  “Should have worn my Kevlar.”

  Willow bumped me with her hip as we climbed the steps.

  “I’m so glad you’re here. Your father had to step out for a second, and I could sure use your help. Hi, Camden.” She turned to me with a smile that actually reached her eyes. “Have you—?”

  “Cam!” A figure darted from the doorway and crashed into my stomach.

  My arm automatically wrapped around Rose. “How’s it going, Rosie?”

  “I’m bored. Our building is boring.” She looked up at me with an expression so like Willow’s that I couldn’t help but grin.

  “It’s not boring!” Mrs. Bradley argued. “It’s historic and important.”

  “And boring,” Charity added as she walked onto the porch.

  “Will you take me to yours?” Rose asked. “Mom said I couldn’t go until you got here. She thinks the crowd will swallow me.”

  “If your mom’s cool with it, I’ll take you.” I looked over at Charity.

  She had a silent discussion with her daughter that included a lot of eyebrow raising and narrowing of eyes. “Fine. Just don’t be a pest to Cam. Promi
se?”

  “Promise!” Rose nodded.

  “Go ahead,” Willow urged. “I’ll meet you up there as soon as I can.” She leaned up, and I bent to kiss her out of habit. “Be good,” she whispered against my lips.

  “I’m not the one with self-control issues,” I teased.

  She scoffed but was smiling when she walked into the building.

  “Mrs. Bradley.” I nodded to her mom.

  “She’s happy.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Keep her that way.” Her gaze hardened for a second in motherly warning, and a pang of longing for my mother hit me.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Satisfied, she told Rose to be good, then joined her daughter.

  “You survived,” Charity noted, lightly punching my shoulder.

  “The battle. The war remains to be seen.” I scooped Rose up in my arms and sat her on my shoulders. “Now, the crowd can’t swallow you.”

  Rose’s nose scrunched as she grinned. “See, Mom?”

  “I see. You take care of my girl, Cam.” She pointed a finger at me.

  “You take care of mine, Charity,” I countered as I turned…and barely swallowed a swear word.

  Judge Bradley glared up at me from the bottom step. “Put my granddaughter down.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Camden

  “Hi, Grandpa!” Rose waved, swaying on my shoulders.

  “Rosie,” he replied with a softer smile toward her. “Put her—”

  Charity stepped to my side, earning an icy glower from her father. She didn’t speak, simply tilted her head.

  “I’m going to Cam’s building!” Rose informed him.

  “The assayer’s office,” I added, in case he thought she meant the yet-to-be-repaired mining building.

  His attention went to Rose, skipping right over me. “Have fun, sweetheart.” Then he sidestepped and walked up the stairs, passing Charity without a word.

  Charity gave my arm a reassuring pat in farewell, and I carried Rose out into the crowd.

  “What’s wrong?” Rose asked as she leaned over.

  “You Bradley girls are trouble,” I complained with an exaggerated shake of my head, adjusting my grip on her legs.