Page 36 of Camden

Just like that, my knees went weak. “You’re too good, Camden James.”

“Only for you.” His hand slid behind my neck, and he pressed a tender kiss to the top of my head. “But do me a favor?”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t freak out at my messages. I might’ve sent a few more than necessary.” He shrugged sheepishly.

Unable to help myself, I pulled my phone out of my crossbody bag and glanced at the screen. A laugh bubbled up in my throat. “Fifteen?”

His cheeks turned a light shade of pink, and a small piece of my wall crumbled. Camden blushing was the sweetest thing I’d ever seen. “Ten. The others must be someone else.”Ten.He wanted to talk to me so much that he sent me ten messages. How was it possible someone so strong, sweet, and confident wanted me? With my past relationships, I probably should’ve been a little freaked out, but instead, I was a little flattered.

“Probably Rylie,” I said, addressing the other five.

“Probably.” He kneaded the nape of my neck.

I wanted to groan from how good it felt. “She was fully on your side, you know?”

“I knew I liked that girl.” He grinned. His touch slipped from my neck to my shoulder, down my arm, and intertwined our fingers. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, care to share the talk you wanted to have?”

I glanced around the hallway. The dark lighting, musty air, and stained floor created an awful ambiance. Not exactly the place I wanted to have that conversation. Plus, I didn’t want to rush it, worried someone would pop back to interrupt us.

“No.” I shook my head. His face fell, and I quickly backtracked. “No, no. Cam. Not no. Just not, you know, here.” I waved my free hand in a circle.

“You still want to talk?”

I nodded my head. “I do. Just not here. I don’t want to have the conversation here.”

“Is it a bad conversation?”

I considered it. “I don’t think so.”

He pulled me against him. “Okay. Then how about dinner? At my place. I can cook.”

I hesitated because being alone with him terrified me in the best way. I hadn’t wanted to be alone with a man in such a long time. It was still too soon for anything intimate, but I could, nowould, be okay with going to his house. “It’s a date.” My breath caught at the excitement lighting up his face.

“It’s a date.” He pulled me in for a tight hug. The hard plains of his muscles of his back constricted under my touch as I hugged him back. I released him quickly, but he connected our hands as we walked back out to the carts we abandoned. He placed a lingering kiss on my temple, and I wanted to fall into him. Cam had a way of making me feel strangely safe with the smallest of gestures.

“I’ll text you.” Before I could respond, he turned and strode away. The dark gray sweatpants clung to him in the best way. For something so comfortable, they should be illegal.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CAMDEN

“Ma!”I yelled, stepping into her small one-bedroom house. It wasn’t the same house we grew up in, but it was so much more of a home than the other could’ve ever been.

“In the kitchen!” she called from the back of the house. “What are you doing here?” She wiped her hands on the small dish towel, walking over to greet me. I had to bend down so she could kiss my cheek. The same thing she’d done my entire life. My mother looked like what I imagined Mrs. Claus to look like, but with brown hair. She was short, standing a full foot shorter than me at only 5’2 with permanently rosy cheeks from always being in the kitchen. About a year ago, she retired from the library where she worked and made it her mission to bake daily.

“I could smell the cake calling me from across town,” I said, as I sniffed the air before swiping frosting from the top. My mom’s buttercream frosting was the best.

She grabbed the dish towel she’d slung over her shoulder and smacked me with it playfully. “Stop it.” She pointed up at me but looked about as scary as a kitten. “What are you really doing here?”

“Why can’t I just come and check up on you?” I asked, pulling out a chair from her two-person kitchen table.

Mom grabbed a dish from the soapy water, rinsed it, and placed it in the drying rack. “As nice as that is. I know better, son.” She raised a brow at me over her shoulder, waiting.

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I need some advice.”

“What kind of advice?” She went back to washing dishes.

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