by Taylor Hart
She cocked an eyebrow. “I’m trying to decide why you keep coming around.”
He grinned. “Because I like you.”
“As some kind of fling?”
Worry pulsed through him. “Why would you say that?”
One shoulder lifted. “I don’t know.”
He pulled her back in. “You’re not a fling.”
Kat let out a breath and moved toward the house. “So we’re just not labeling this.” She pointed between them.
Picking up the Chinese food and following her, he nodded, liking the sound of that. “Yeah, let’s just be whatever we are. No labels.”
She let slip an exasperated giggle and shook her head. She motioned for him to follow her to the big house. “I work in the sunroom. It’s this way.”
He followed her, noticing the pricey upgrades on the deck, including a stone outdoor kitchen and fireplace. “This place is nice.”
Before she opened the sliding door, she whipped back and shook her finger at him. “It is nice, so don’t break anything.”
He wanted to laugh. The way she said it made him feel like a kid. “I can’t promise anything.”
A slow smile played on her lips. “I’m sure you can pay to fix it.”
He didn’t know if there was an underlying meaning to her words, so he only shrugged. “Fine, I’ll pay for it if I do. But …” He hesitated.
“What?”
They stared at each other for a few seconds and he brushed his lips to hers for a second.
She batted him away. “The cameras.”
He flashed her a grin. “When I’m around you, I have to admit I want to just mess up your perfect life.”
They stared at each other for a few seconds, and he couldn’t decide if all the blood whooshing in his ears and making him feel totally off his game was a good thing or a bad thing.
She laughed and turned to punch some buttons into a keypad. “You have no idea how messy my life really is.”
“Tell me.” He held his breath. He really wanted to know more about her. Everything, to be exact.
She scoffed. “I think a man like you probably doesn’t have a problem getting dates. You can skip the drama.”
He didn’t know what had happened, but Kat seemed different tonight. “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
Giving him an unbelieving look, she finally shook her head. “I guess nothing.”
“I guess not.”
She finished punching buttons.
Trying to focus on something else, he looked around. “I thought they had cameras. Are you going to get in trouble?”
Pushing the door all the way back and holding it for him, she shook her head. “I just disabled it all, so the cameras are off.”
“Nice.” He stepped in, glancing at the kitchen and the framed cabin-style main room that looked brand new. “How old is this home?”
She locked the door behind him and moved down the hallway, past the front door area he’d scoped out the day before. As he followed her, she explained, “It was built last year. The people who own it are some bazillionaires that live back east somewhere. I just deal with the management company, mostly.” She flashed a grin. “But it’s a great job.”
They walked into a large sunroom. It was more of a greenhouse really. Cam noticed the dome-like quality to the room and the plethora of scents that assaulted him—earthy, with hints of pine, roses, and lilacs. Since it was dark, there were floor lights, but the walls were made of glass and the evening sky shone through the ceiling.
Kat flipped off the floor lights, and it was completely dark. “I love this room.”
Cam gazed up at the stars. “Wow.”
Flipping back on the soft floor lights, she gestured to a long silver table that looked like some type of gardening center. She had her laptop there, and stools surrounded it.
He set the food down, noticing some wicker furniture with cushions in the main part of the room as well as shelves of books on one of the walls. “This is a cool room.”
Kat sat on a stool and pushed her computer and some books to the side, taking the sack of food and pulling out the plates. “This is my favorite room. I think if I were part of the bazillionaire club, I would have a room exactly like this. I love how warm it is during the day.” She nodded to the wall of books that went clear up to the ceiling, complete with a wall ladder that looked like it belonged in an old-fashioned library. “I’d have books too. Actually, even more books than that.” She grinned.
He grinned back and helped pull out the food. “I can imagine you’d have to have a mini-library.” His heart pounded with his secret, that he was one of those bazillionaires already. He really wanted to tell her who he was, but he was afraid it would change things between them too much. What they had felt personal, simple, and fragile. Whatever was between them was like a tiny flower that had just blossomed. It had to be coddled and loved with the right amount of light and food to keep growing.
Too quickly, it could be stomped out.
Kat opened up the cartons, and he gave each of them bottles of water and napkins. Turning, he saw her staring at him. “What?”
“What would you do if you were part of the bazillionaire club?”
The question felt like it had an underlying agenda. He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t?” Her voice took on a hard edge.
He frowned and shrugged. “I guess I’d like toys.”
This stopped her. “Just toys? Not homes? Cars? Trucks.”
The air between them was suddenly thick with tension. His mouth went dry. Should he just tell her? Should he? He didn’t know what she would do, and fear of that unknown held him back.
He looked away and busied himself by taking the noodles and dishing some onto her plate. “You want some?”
She stopped him, putting a hand over his. “What, Cam?”
Tell her! his mind screamed. “Uh—” All he could think about was her warm hand on his. “Kids.”
Yanking her hand back, she gave him a stunned look. “What?”
What in the crap was he saying? He moved away and sucked in a breath, but pushed on. “Kids. Lots of them. If I was a bazillionaire, I’d have kids and a big house and horses and be like my sister.” He sighed. “We’d travel and play and hang out at the beach a lot.”
Her cheeks reddened. “How many kids?”
Laughing, he went back to the food. “I don’t know. How many do you want?”
Her head twitched back and forth, and she put a hand up to stop it. “Like a baker’s dozen.”
“What?” He did a double take.
She laughed, flashing him a wicked grin. “Well, if I was a bazillionare’s wife, ya know.”
Was she serious? “A baker’s dozen.” He frowned, then couldn’t believe he was actually considering that for her.
Looking flabbergasted, she shook her head. “Right. Hey, why not two dozen?”
He couldn’t believe it. He flashed her a grin. “Sure, I guess.”
She let out a light laugh.
“Are you kidding?”
She put her hands up. “Heck no.” She took off her glasses and set them on the computer. “Thank you. This is really good.” She kept a teasing grin in place.
He felt absurdly satisfied that he was feeding her, but he didn’t know if she was teasing him or not. So he tried to focus on something else. He looked up. “Man, this really is quite a room.”
Pointing up, she drew a line in the air. “Orion’s belt is right there.”
Tilting his head, he saw it. He pointed up. “And there are his dogs.” He drew another line.
She laughed. “I guess you know your astronomy.”
He shrugged. “My dad loved the stars. We’d go out to the desert in the summers to bring back the cows and sleep under the stars. My dad taught me all kinds of things about them.”
Gazing up, she got quiet. “My grandfather did, too.”
They both looked up, not speaking for a few
minutes.
Eventually, Cam put his plate down and picked up his guitar, moving for the furniture. “Let’s work in here.”
“But I’m set up over here,” she argued.
He shrugged and sat on the wicker furniture, trying not to press her. “Okay.” Making himself relax, he strummed the guitar and leaned back into the couch, closing his eyes. He tuned it for a few minutes, then tried out a different arrangement that he hadn’t quite been able to nail down earlier in the day.
He got lost in the music. There was no more disconnect between the music and his fingers. They were one. He felt that perfect connection—that flow. He kept his eyes closed and hummed out a few lines of a tune that had been circling inside his brain since the night before, when he’d been looking at her in the hot tub.
Just being near you feels like home
Who would have known that this unlikely friendship would have turned out so
The question came forward like the rush of a crushing wave
I can’t get you out of my mind
You’re always there no matter what
It doesn’t matter what you say we are
You’ll always be more to me
Before he knew what had happened, she was next to him on the couch. Not too close, but if he were so inclined, he could reach out and hold her hand. He didn’t, though.
She wore a sad look again.
He put his guitar on the other side of him. “What’s wrong, Kat?”
She didn’t respond right away. Then she glanced up at him, shrugging. “Why are you here with me?” Her voice was quiet.
Taking a chance, he took her hand into his. “Can’t I just be here with you?”
She sighed, looking frustrated. “Is there no one else, Cam?”
Leaning back into the couch, he got comfortable. “I broke up with a girl a few months ago. She …” He couldn’t believe he was telling her this. “I thought she was pretty cool, but when my dad passed away, she acted like it was an inconvenience for her. Her biggest concern was that she had to buy a new black dress and get her hair done.”
Kat reached for his hand. “I’m sorry.”
He sighed. “I told her she didn’t need to worry about that black dress, because it was over.” Surprisingly, he felt calm at this moment, completely calm.
She squeezed his hand again. “I guess all of us need a friend sometimes.”
He turned to her. “Kat, I’m not gonna lie anymore, I think I do want to label this.”
He felt her go perfectly still, but she didn’t pull away.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She grinned.
Taking a chance, he pushed himself closer to her. “We don’t have to label it right now, okay?”
She stared up at him. “Are you Prince Charming, Cam?”
This unnerved him. “What?”
“I guess if I live in a fairytale, then I need a prince.” She gave him the same teasing smile from earlier.
Unable to stop himself, he answered as truthfully as he could. “I’ve known I wanted to be with you since I met you, so if you want me to be a prince, that’s what I’ll be.”
Chapter 23
Cam woke the next morning and didn’t even look at the clock. He jumped out of bed and put on his running shoes, loving how amazing the possibilities of the day before him felt.
Last night had gone well. He’d been proud of his restraint. He hadn’t pressured her at all. Maybe it sounded ridiculous, but not pressuring her had been a big feat for him because he knew he was already in love with her.
He also knew she had to catch up in the love department.
Sprinting down the lane, he watched the sun come up. This was how he liked his running time: early, with the rising sun. The past few months, he hadn’t managed to get out of bed.
Right now, at this exact moment, everything felt easy, light, and happy.
He’d left Kat last night with just a few kisses. He wanted to go slow with her, let her fall in love with him at her own pace. At the same time, he’d marry her tomorrow if she was ready.
First, there was something he had to do—tell her who he was.
Finishing his run, he made a quick protein shake and then went for the bathroom, stopping to grab his phone.
He hesitated in front of the bathroom mirror, realizing that today was the day he would shave. He took his shirt off and lathered up the shaving cream.
Yes. It was time. Time to be the “real” Cameron Cruz. Maybe it would make it easier to tell her the truth.
Before he could pick up the razor, his phone buzzed. It would be a lie to say that sticky sweet happiness didn’t rush through him when he saw it was a text from her.
Hey, cowboy, want to go for a drive?
Quickly, he texted back: Yes.
I’m here.
Running down the hall, he got to the front door and flung it open.
Her smiling face stared back at him. She wore the Denver storm hat and sunglasses and hiking clothes. Pulling off her shades, she looked him up and down, the side of her lip twitching up. “You’re shaving today?” Her eyes rested on his chest, slowly moving up to his face.
Pointing at her, he went into a full flex. “I caught you checking me out.”
Laughing, she shook her head and rolled her eyes. “You wish.”
On impulse, he reached out and pulled her into a hug. “I could rub the shaving cream on your face.”
Pushing away from his face, she giggled. She held up a little bag. “Let me go, and I’ll give you a present.”
Letting her go, he reached for the small bag.
“I brought you a bagel. I thought it only fair that I try to feed you sometimes.”
Turning back to her, he noticed she was blushing. She’d brought something for him? She was thinking of him? If he’d been happy this morning, now he felt on top of the world. He tried controlling his excitement. “Thank you.” He reached for her hand.
To his delight, she took his. “You’re welcome.” She giggled, looking at his face. “Could you shower quickly? We need to go.”
Of course, he wouldn’t refuse a chance to hang out with her, especially when she’d initiated it. “You got it.” He took off for the shower. “Make yourself comfortable.”
* * *
Even though he was squished, Cam liked being in Kat’s little red Volkswagen bug—she’d insisted on driving. They had the windows down, and he put his head out, loving the smell of ranchland. “Where are you taking me?”
“Back to the property.”
They drove another ten minutes, listening to country music on full blast and singing along together. Cam looked at her hair flying, listening to her sing for the first time. She did it just like she did everything else—beautifully—and he wondered again how long he’d have to wait to really be with her.
He had ended up not shaving. Staring into the little side mirror on Kat’s car, he marveled at how different he really did feel with a beard, how different he felt in Jackson and with Kat. It was like he’d hopped universes and ended up in a completely different life.
It was a life he really liked.
Chapter 24
Kat wanted him to admit it. Admit who he was.
Last night, she’d laid in bed, staring into the dark at the ceiling, completely unsettled. Confused. Finally, she’d decided she wanted a relationship with Cam, but she needed the truth.
Chapter 25
Even thinking about being with Cam made her smile. It made her tiptoes tingle with anticipation … but she needed honesty between them. She was tired of not facing the truth.
They pulled up to the house, and she looked at the sign that said Under Contract. “Oh my gosh, someone’s trying to buy it?”
Cam acted surprised by this. “Oh, wow.”
Kat got out, and Cam followed her.
Heading for the house, Kat walked up the stairs and hesitated on the porch, turning and going to the side of the house where the tire swing was. Sh
e thought of kissing him the other day. “I really want this house. I don’t want it sold to someone else.”
He put his hand inside of hers. “I know you do.”
Turning to him, she searched his eyes. “I just … I guess I can’t believe it sold so quickly. I don’t even know what other properties to look at.” Tell me. Tell me, she thought.
His head jerked, and he nodded and wiped his mouth with his other hand. “It’s crazy, right?”
“Right.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry.” Leaning forward, his lips brushed hers.
Fire. Goose bumps rushed over her arms. She soaked in the smell of his soap and let herself stay close to him, loving the way his facial hair tickled her.
Slipping his arms around her waist, he turned her to him and pulled her closer, then deepened the kiss.
Every part of Kat wanted to drink him in. Dang it. Even though she’d tried to not let this mean anything, she couldn’t deny the attraction burning through her. This man was beyond handsome. But why didn’t he tell her?
Pulling back, she held her hands on his chest. “Is this real, Cam?”
He was breathless. “It’s real, Kat.”
Dang it—tell her!
But before she could demand it, she heard a car pull into the driveway. Kat turned and saw Steven get out of a cab. His eyes locked with hers, and she recognized shock and anger in them.
Pulling away from Cam, she moved off the porch and stepped toward him. Anger bubbled inside of her.
Steven glared at her as the cab pulled away, charging over to her. He gave her a brusque nod, pushing back his glasses. “Katherine.”
She didn’t respond.
Steven wore jeans and loafers and a tweed jacket. He looked like the professor he was. He looked strange here—out of context, like a kid seeing their teacher outside of school.
“What are you doing here?” she finally managed to ask.
“I went to your cottage and couldn’t find you, so I took a chance and came here.”
“Why are you are here?”
Shrugging, he took a tentative step toward her. “It’s not over, Katherine.”
