Page 39 of Camden

I waited until she drove away to go back into the house. Opening the stove, I removed the foil from the casserole dish.Okay, she said fifty-five minutes. Checking the time on my phone, I took the stairs two at a time, unbuttoning my uniform as I went. Steam filled my bathroom as I turned the shower on as hot as it would go, almost boiling. Water washed over me as I stood under the spray. The hot water eased the knots in my back and shoulders.

After I washed my hair and body, I turned the water off and wrapped a towel around my waist. Wiping the steam off the mirror, I quickly shaved and grabbed another towel to dry my hair. A faint beeping reached my ears, followed by an even louder fire alarm. “Shit!” I sprinted back down the stairs. Tripping on the last one, I face-planted on the floor. “Fuck.” I groaned. Rolling onto my back, I pinched the bridge of my nose, ready for the blood to flow.

I sat up and saw the smoke filling the kitchen. I stood, nose forgotten, and rushed to the kitchen, knocking over the entryway table in my haste to stand. Black smoke billowed out of the oven. Grabbing my fire extinguisher from under the counter, I sprayed the now-burned lasagna. Leaving the oven door open, I walked over and opened the window above the sink, trying to fan some of the smoke out of the room.

I knew I took my time in the shower, but how the fuck did I mess this up so badly? I hadn’t even touched the food yet. Resting both hands on the counter, I hung my head and watched as a few drops of blood splattered onto the floor at my feet.

“Is everything okay?” A sweet voice said from a few feet behind me. Not prepared for it, I twisted quickly and lost my footing as the rug under my feet slipped. A grunt escaped my lips as I fell flat on my back, the air knocked out of my lungs. “Oh, my God. Are you okay?” Stephanie rushed over, dropping her bag as she kneeled next to me.

CHAPTER TWELVE

STEPHANIE

I was early.It was something I did when I was nervous. I showed up at places or events early. If I ever got married, I’d probably be the one standing in the aisle waiting for my husband to walk to me.

Still, I sat in my car in Cam’s driveway, staring up at his beautiful home. It was the perfect mixture of modern and rustic. At least from the outside. The large front porch, complete with a swing, lined the front of the home. Instead of siding, a beautiful gray brick covered the house up to the windows. A dark-gray door matched the shutters.

A dream home.

Removing the keys from the ignition, I opened the door, grabbing my bag and the bottle of wine I brought with me. I didn’t know if Cam was a wine drinker, but I never went somewhere without some sort of offering. Even if thiswassupposed to be a date. I eyed the swing swaying in the breeze at the opposite end of the porch as I walked up the three small steps. I went to knock when I heard a loud thump, followed by a groan. Moving closer, the fire alarm rang loudly behind the door.

Concerned, I gripped the knob hesitantly, waiting to see what happened. When the alarm kept going off, I turned the handle, opened the door, and stepped into the most beautiful home. A staircase leading upstairs was to the right. Dark hardwood flooring spread through the open floor plan with a gigantic area rug in the middle of the room that made me want to take off my shoes and see if it was as fluffy as it looked. Sitting in the middle of the room was a giant grey sofa, a matching recliner, and a black coffee table in the center.

The smell of smoke pulled my attention to the kitchen. My eyes widened as a shirtless Camden pointed a fire extinguisher at the stove. The island blocked his lower half, and I couldn’t tell if he was fully naked. My pulse spiked. His shoulders deflated as he turned toward the sink and opened the window. I cocked my head to the side as he tried to wave some of the smoke from the room. The muscles in his back rippled when he gripped the edge of the counter and hung his head. Water dripped down the back of his neck as he sighed.

I took a minute to ogle the wide shoulders that tapered down into slim hips which were wrapped in a white terry cloth towel.So, he wasn’t naked.Every muscle in his back flexed as he curled his hands around the edge of the countertop. I bit my bottom lip, swaying from foot to foot before inching closer. He seemed so stressed; I wanted to rub his back. Comfort him.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, startling him. It was like slow motion as he spun toward me. His feet slipped from under him and he crashed to the floor. A loud grunt escaped as his back hit the floor.

Rushing over, I dropped my bag on the ground and kneeled next to him. “Oh, my God. Are you okay?” I asked, but he didn’t move as he stared up at me. Sitting the bottle of wine down more carefully, I reached behind his head and started feeling for injuries. When I finally focused on his face, I gasped. Blood trickled from his nose.

I searched for something to stop the bleeding. Spotting a towel sitting on the counter, I grabbed it hastily and pressed it to his nose. Moving behind him, I sat on the floor with his head in my lap. “What happened?” I looked around. Blood dotted the kitchen floor.

He pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes and groaned, although this time it sounded more embarrassed than pain-filled. A small smattering of dark hair covered his chest. My eyes followed the hard planes of muscle from his chest, to his abs, down to the V.

The V.

Holy moly. My face flushed, and I bit my lip, letting my eyes wander over the small trail of hair that disappeared under the towel, which miraculously stayed tied around his waist through his fall.

However, it did little to hide the bulge beneath.

“If you keep staring at me like that, the towel won’t be able to conceal it much longer.” The towel I had pressed to his nose muffled his deep voice. His dark blue eyes flared with heat. Removing the towel from his face, I noticed the bleeding stopped.

I looked away. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Cam sat up and leaned back against the cabinets next to me. “I’m so sorry for all of this.” He waved his hand around.

I stood and wet the cloth before gently cleaning his face. His rough, calloused palm caught my wrist. My skin burned from the small touch. “You don’t have to do that.” He whispered, and I suddenly realized how close we were.

I shrugged. “I don’t mind.” Besides, it kept me calm in his presence. Once I finished cleaning his face, I rubbed the small spot of dried blood on his chest. Satisfied I had gotten everything, I sat the towel on the floor next to me and grabbed his chin. Angling his face the way I wanted, I inspected his nose. “I don’t think it’s broken.”

Cam smiled at me, and it made the butterflies in my stomach take flight. I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry. I just walked in like that. I heard the fire alarm and panicked. What happened?”

“Full disclosure?” he asked, and I nodded. “I can’t cook.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of me. “What?”

“I can’t cook,” he repeated, shrugging one shoulder.

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