Make It Last

by Megan Erickson

  Jamie ducked his head as his ears reddened. He was embarrassed. Good. Recalling that he hurled “slut” at his sister should embarrass him. “I’m sorry,” Jamie mumbled.

  Cam licked his lips. “Yeah, I’m sure you are. First of all, you need to tell her that. And second of all, you need to understand why that’s not okay.”

  Jamie looked up. “Because she’s my sister?”

  “Well . . .” Cam tilted his head as he thought of how he wanted to word this. “Yeah, because she’s your sister, but you also don’t treat any woman like that. Would you call me a slut if I started talking about girls I slept with?”

  Jamie shook his head slowly.

  “Yeah, so don’t say that shit to your sister or another woman. Got it?”

  Jamie’s face was red, but he nodded.

  Cam patted the table and stood up. “Gonna get your sister. Sit tight, all right?”

  As he took a step away, Jamie called his name. Cam turned around. “Get me a burger, will ya?” Jamie asked, his eyes bright again.

  Cam rolled his eyes. “Sure, man. Gotta put some meat on your bones, right?”

  Jamie flexed. “Hey, nothing wrong with my guns.”

  Cam turned back around, laughing, and walked toward Tate. Her face lit up and she sprinted out from around the counter. He met her at the end as she launched herself into his arms. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Of course.”

  She pulled back. “You guys had a good talk?”

  “Yep.”

  “About what?”

  Cam ran his tongue over his teeth. “That’s between us. But I think we’re on our way to getting our relationship back.”

  Tate’s smile was worth all the anxiety. “I’m so glad.”

  He patted her ass. “Now you’re up. He’s got some things to say to you, I think.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can you take your break now?”

  “I think so.”

  “Then go talk to your brother.”

  She blinked, then pressed her lips to his in a quick kiss. With a squeeze to his hip and a wink, she was off to Jamie. “Oh, and he wants a burger!” Cam called after her.

  “Great, can you order us two?” she said over her shoulder.

  Cam huffed and she laughed.

  TATE SLIPPED INTO the booth across from her brother. He looked chagrined.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hey,” he answered.

  And that was pretty much the extent of the conversation aside from the awkward meeting of gazes until Anne came over and plopped their burgers in front of them. “If I don’t see lips moving soon—and I don’t mean for eating—I’m going to come take these burgers away. Am I clear?”

  “Yes,” Tate said.

  “Crystal,” Jamie answered.

  Anne nodded and then walked away. Tate met Cam’s eyes where he was perched at the counter on a stool. He winked at her with a laugh, and she glared at him before focusing on her brother.

  Tate poked around her fries, looking for the perfect one that wasn’t too crunchy or too soft.

  “You’re doing that weird fry thing,” Jamie said.

  Oooh, that one looked good. She picked it up and dunked it in ketchup. “What weird fry thing?”

  He pointed to her with a fry that looked soggy and limp. “Where you spend five hours picking out the perfect fry, which makes no sense, because you always eat the whole basket anyway.”

  “I do not spend five hours.”

  “Well, it sure seems like it.”

  “Why do you care how I eat my fries?”

  “I don’t care. I was just pointing out—”

  All of a sudden, Tate’s basket was no longer in front of her. And Jamie’s wasn’t in front of him. And Anne was standing at the end of their booth, her lips pressed in a thin line, her eyes flashing. “What did I say?”

  “I want to point out that our lips were moving,” Jamie explained.

  Anne’s head whipped to face him and he shrank in his seat.

  “I hand these both over to that Hispanic hunk over there to eat unless I hear some real conversation.”

  “Quit pressuring us,” Tate huffed.

  “Quit stalling,” Anne snapped back.

  Tate slumped down and crossed her arms over her chest.

  She started to count to ten to get her blood pressure down, when she heard across from her a mumbled “I’m sorry.”

  She looked at Jamie, who was tugging on his ear and eyeing her through his lashes. “I’ve been a dick lately, huh?”

  Tate softened her posture and leaned forward. “It’s not all your fault. I haven’t been there for you.”

  He shook his head. “No, you have. But I took it for granted and didn’t take into consideration how much stress you’ve been under.”

  She reached out and laid her hand over the top of his. “It’s been stressful for both of us.”

  Tate’s nose twitched and she glanced over to see their plates at the end of the table. Anne was gone, having left sometime when they weren’t paying attention, leaving the food behind.

  Tate turned back to her brother. “I made some mistakes, and when Cam and I broke up, I hadn’t thought about how that affected you. And I’m so sorry about that.”

  Jamie flipped his hand over so their palms met. “He said the same thing.”

  “But we’re older now and—”

  “You were the same age as me when you guys broke up, though. And you keep talking about how you were so young then.” He squinted at her.

  Tate bit her lip. “I hate saying, ‘You just wait,’ but in a way that’s the only thing I know to say. When I was eighteen, I thought I knew everything. I thought I was such a grown-up.” She laughed sadly. “The thing is, now I’m not any closer to being a grown-up. I think that’s how I know that I have grown up a little bit. Because now I realize I might not ever feel grown-up.” She cocked her head. “Does that make sense?”

  “You’re a grown-up when you realize you’ll never feel like a grown-up?”

  Tate nodded as sagely as she could. “Pretty much.”

  “That . . . shouldn’t make sense, but it kinda does.”

  Tate reached over and rummaged through her fries. Jamie did the same, and then a fry was under her nose. “Why are you giving me a fry?”

  “It’s a good one, right?”

  She eyed it, checking for crispness and oil content. “Yeah, it does look pretty good.”

  He dropped it in her open hand.

  “Are you calling a truce with a fry?” she asked.

  “Does your highness need filet mignon or something?”

  Tate answered by tossing the fry in her mouth. “Fine, truce.”

  They dug into their burgers, while Tate told him a story about how Anne thought an upright mop was an intruder and called 911 before she realized cleaning supplies weren’t going to steal the register money.

  Jamie laughed, and Tate saw the younger boy in the almost-a-man’s face.

  They fell silent until Tate spoke up. “I tried, you know. I tried to keep us together.”

  Jamie tore apart a napkin and dropped the bits on his plate. “I know. I thought a little bit about it, because I’m close to the age you were when you found out and . . . I’m not sure I would have handled it all like you have. You kept the bills paid and you worked your ass off. And you took care of Dad and me. I just didn’t appreciate it.”

  Tate tried to swallow her gulp of water around the lump in her throat. “Thanks for saying that.”

  Jamie met her eyes. “You deserved to hear it.” Then his gaze shifted over her shoulder and his face lit up. Tate turned around. She hadn’t heard the door to the diner open. She blocked it out when she wasn’t on duty, so she hadn’t realized someone had walked inside.

  A girl stood inside the door, scanning the diner. She stood about Tate’s height and had long brown hair she pulled into a ponytail. She wore glasses and a simple pair of jeans with a plain red T-shirt. Noth
ing about her stuck out, but when her gaze found Jamie, her face cracked into a huge smile and Tate raised her eyebrows.

  She looked at Jamie like he held the Earth on his shoulders. Hell, Tate thought, if someone looked at me like that, I’d be smitten, too.

  “I, uh,” Jamie began, drawing Tate’s attention away from the girl who was making her way toward their table. “I invited Ashley to meet you. I hope that’s okay.”

  Tate looked down at her stained T-shirt and fraying apron.

  “You look fine.” He chuckled.

  She shot him a glare as the girl took a seat in the booth beside Jamie. Her big brown eyes focused on his face and she had a pretty, soft voice. “Hi.”

  “Hey.” Jamie’s face was softer than Tate had ever seen it. She liked the look. Ashley seemed to calm him, and she wondered where Ashley had been when he was getting drunk. “Tate, this is my girlfriend, Ashley. Ashley, this is my sister, Tate.”

  Tate was a hugger but it was awkward to reach across the table so she stuck out her hand to shake. Which also felt awkward but she’d already made the movement, so she went with it. The girl shook Tate’s hand with a nervous smile on her face. “Hello, Jamie talks about you all the time.”

  “About how I’m a pain-in-the-ass dictator?”

  Ashley shook her head, her ponytail swishing along her shoulders. “No, he loves you.”

  Tate glanced at Jamie, but his eyes were on his girlfriend.

  They’d had sex. Tate knew it with every bone in her body. Teenagers weren’t that attentive with each other unless they’d taken that step. She needed to make that birds-and-bees convo top priority.

  “And thank you,” Ashley said, drawing Tate’s attention.

  “For what?”

  Ashley glanced at Jamie before shoring up her shoulders and continuing. “For getting him back on track. For a while there . . .” She waved her hand, and Jamie cut in. “We broke up.”

  Tate frowned. “Oh, I didn’t know . . .”

  Jamie sighed. “I didn’t tell you.”

  “But,” Ashley cut in, “things have been better since the accident. He’s promised to get his act together and I know it’s because of you.”

  Tate didn’t think she did much other than piss Jamie off, but she’d take the thanks. “He’s my brother and I love him, so you’re welcome.”

  Ashley smiled.

  “You hungry?” Jamie asked her.

  “Burger and fries?”

  Jamie called over to Cam. “We need another burger and fries.”

  “What, do I look like I work here?” Cam called back.

  Tate laughed as she stood up to put the order in. “Nice to meet you, Ashley. I hope to see you around a lot more.”

  Ashley grinned. “Me too.”

  Chapter 14

  CAM RAN HIS fingertips down Tate’s arm and watched as goose bumps rose on her skin in the wake of his touch. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder and felt her shudder under his lips.

  They were in her bedroom and he needed to leave for work in approximately thirty-five minutes. They’d just finished playing Utope and all he wanted to do was get her naked and get inside her. But her father was right outside in the living room, and Tate had never been good at being quiet.

  She rolled onto her side and propped her head on her palm. “It’s not nice to get me all worked up and then jet off to work in your tight black T-shirt.”

  He laughed and leaned in, pressing a kiss to her neck, adding a little tongue and teeth. When another shudder ran through her body, he grinned.

  “Come out tonight.” He cupped the back of her neck and ran a thumb along the hinge of her jaw. “When I get a break, we can hang out.”

  She scrunched her lips to the side. “I’ll text Van. If she’s going to be there, then I’ll come. How’s that?”

  “That’s acceptable.”

  She dropped her eyes to the comforter between them. “Thanks a lot for talking to Jamie.”

  He scooted closer. “Of course.”

  Her eyes met his. “When are we going to talk about . . . the future?”

  Cam knew she was uneasy about what was going to happen in the fall. She hadn’t fully let herself enjoy this time with him. He could tell sometimes by the way she zoned out or hesitated before full leaning into his touch.

  It killed him, but at that point, he didn’t have answers yet. The job prospects in Paradise sucked. And unless something better came along than what he had now, he didn’t know if he had any options but to take the job. And if he didn’t leave, his mom might toss him out.

  He had a couple ideas swarming in his head, and he decided to test the waters with the first one. “So, your dad is doing well, right? And he’s got Anne here. And your brother still has another year of school. Would . . .” He took a deep breath and plunged in. “Would you consider moving to New York with me?”

  Her eyes widened, and then blinked. Once. Twice. Her chest rose with deep breaths, and her hand was limp in his. He tugged on it. “You don’t have to answer now, but . . .”

  “Go with you?” she whispered.

  He nodded. “Yeah, go with me.”

  She blinked again. “Live in New York with you?”

  He kept nodding. “Yes, live with me. In sin. Until we can afford a wedding or make an appointment at the justice of the peace.”

  Her head jerked, and then her hair whipped his face as she threw her head back and burst out laughing.

  He didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign. His body tensed. “What the hell are you laughing at?”

  She lowered her head with watery eyes. “Oh, Camilo Ruiz, you blew me away with that romantic proposition, so—”

  “Do you want romance? Because—”

  “I didn’t say I wanted romance, ya idiot.” She chuckled. Then her face softened. “I’d live in sin with you anywhere. You know that.”

  He relaxed and shoved her onto her back, then he covered her with his body and nudged her chin with his nose. She angled her head so he could focus his attention on the pale skin of her neck. “Freaking me out, laughing at me like that.” He followed the tendon with his tongue and teeth. “Is that a yes?”

  Her body tensed for a second below him and there was a pause before she answered. “I want to. Please know that.”

  He pulled back to look in her eyes. “But . . .”

  She shook her head. “There’s no but coming. I was going to say that I want to make it work, and I need some time to think about it. Okay?”

  “Okay.” He fingered a lock of her hair spread out on the pillow. “You know I’d stay here with you, too.”

  She gripped his face in her hands. “I love you, Camilo. But I don’t want that for you.”

  “But what about what I want for me?”

  Those hazel eyes bored into his. “Can you honestly tell me right now that you’d be happy living in Paradise, knowing you had an amazing job off in New York?”

  He hesitated because, fuck, did he ever want that job. But that job didn’t come with Tate. And he wanted her more than anything. But that hesitation was a mistake because Tate pounced on it. “See? That’s what I thought.”

  Cam pulled his head out of her grasp and sat at the end of the bed to pull on his boots. “So you get to think about moving to New York with me, but I don’t have thirty fucking seconds to answer a big life question?”

  “Because I know the answer—”

  “Do you?” He turned his head to face where she sat up on the bed. “Do you really?”

  She bit her lip, uncertainty crossing her face, but she plowed on. “If I would have told you about my dad back when we were eighteen, what would you have done?”

  “I would have come home,” he answered immediately.

  “Aha!” she said, rising onto her knees and pointing at him. “But you’d regret it. And then you’d resent me. And then where would we be?”

  He snatched up his T-shirt and pulled it on, then walked toward the door to her bedroom. He opened
it, then turned around to face her. “That’s where I think you’re wrong. You act like you can tell the future, and that’s utter bullshit. Time to grow up and realize adults compromise on decisions, Tatum.”

  Her mouth fell open on a gasp, and Cam walked out.

  But his Tate never could let him have the last word. He heard a thump behind him as she jumped off the bed, and then bare feet thudding down the hall behind him.

  Tate’s father was watching TV in his recliner and stared at them with wide eyes as they both stomped by.

  “Don’t you dare walk away from me,” she growled after him and he turned around, finding her wicked hot all pissed off. No one did angry female like Tatum Ellison.

  “I have to go to work, Tatum,” he growled back.

  “This conversation isn’t over.” She pointed at him with narrowed eyes.

  “You bet your ass it isn’t.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, and he had to suppress a grin, fighting the twitching muscles at the corner of his mouth.

  “You’re doing that thing where you’re trying not to smile.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  She cocked her head. “Your lips are twitching, you liar.”

  He reached out and grabbed her hand and hauled her to him. He leaned down to kiss her but stopped when his lips were an inch from hers. “Think about what I said?”

  She heaved a sigh. “I will. Think about what I said?”

  He nodded. “I will.”

  She rose up on her toes until her lips met his. Then she backed away with a smile. “See you later tonight.”

  He raised his chin to her, gave her dad a salute, and then walked out.

  TATE SIPPED HER light beer and watched as Cam checked IDs at the door. He sat in an alcove, and the lighting cast odd shadows over his face, which only made his dimples more noticeable when he smiled at some forty-year-old cougar.

  Tate glared at the woman’s back as she made her way to the bar and then focused again on Cam.

  He turned his head, met her gaze. And then winked.

  That smug, sexy bastard.

  Van plopped down across from her with a pink drink in a martini glass. Tate eyed it. “What’s that?”