Page 77 of Unstoppable Love

Cameron flinched. I guess I hadn’t hidden my doubt. But could he blame me?

“Yeah, Sunshine,” he said, and this time his smile was soft. “I want to hear all about it.”

“All right.” I hopped off the counter, grabbed our drinks, and opened the sliding door for him.

Once outside, he set the platter down on my table, and I handed him his water. We walked around the already-installed raised beds, where I shared my vision of curved trellises I’d install so I could walk under them when the vegetables were growing.

I pointed to the flat area beyond. “I was thinking I’d like to do a firepit out here, maybe.”

“Yeah?” He spun in a slow circle. “That could look really good. Especially if you can string some pole lights by the beds.” He gestured to the corners of the boxes. “Light the way out here, but it would make the whole area glow.”

“You think?” I shouldn’t have surprised me he was into this. It shouldn’t have at all, but it’s been so long since I wanted Cameron to notice me, take an interest in my life. The surprises kept coming.

He grinned down at me. “I remember a day when Isaiah and I were teenagers. We weren’t driving yet, so we couldn’t have been sixteen, but we’d come in off your land on our ATVs, and you and your mom were in the kitchen, cleaning all the beans and tomatoes you’d picked that day.”

“Really?”

“You were at the sink, and your mom made some comment about how filthy she was, and all I remember was you giving her this look, and it was pure happiness, probably a smile like the way I felt when I was on a horse, working with my dad. And you just looked at your mom and said, ‘Yeah, isn’t it great?’ The two of you laughed, but it was almost like some secret between the two of you.”

I tried. I tried so hard to remember that moment, but couldn’t. “I don’t remember that.”

“Probably because to you it was a normal day, but I remember that look on your face and the happiness and peace you had. I’m not surprised at all you want to turn this backyard into something that would give you that. You’ve always loved the land, the work. I’m not surprised you didn’t love living in Denver. It’s not you, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I think it’s a beautiful thing.”

Tears stung my eyes, and I couldn’t place why for a moment. I turned away from him, from the intensity in his gaze he always seemed to have, but there was something else there, too.

He saw me. He knew me. And he was right. It was a beautiful thing.

I took his hand in my hand, and the warmth of his large, calloused palm pressed against mine. His fingers entwined with mine with no hesitation. I gave him a quick squeeze and tugged. “Let’s go eat that food before the bugs get to it.”

He chuckled, and we sat on the small couch in my backyard. We talked about everything and nothing. We talked about his season, and we laughed at memories of Isaiah and I running through muddy potato fields and the time I’d tried to be grown up and had glue-on nails and lost them while we were sorting potatoes.

I groaned when Cameron reminded me, and my head fell to his shoulder. “I still hope those got out before the potatoes ended up being bagged.”

He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and held me against him until the sun set, the lightning bugs lit up my backyard, and the night cooled, until I shivered against him.

“Let’s get inside,” he said, lips brushing the top of my head. “Let’s go to bed and watch a movie.”

He had me at the bed part. Lost me at the movie part.

“A movie?” We had all night together, and that was what he wanted?

“In your bed. Where we’ll probably only pay attention to the first half.”

Well, that sounded like a doable plan.

I couldn’t do this. How Cameron could be so nonchalant was killing me. My skin was itchy, my pulse was racing, and my core was throbbing all over again. Watch a movie in my bed with Cameron lounging next to me without a care in the world?

This was killing me. And we were only ten minutes into the movie. No way was I paying attention to Remember the Titans, Cameron’s all-time favorite football movie. I’d insisted he pick since he chose my favorite last time. I didn’t even need to watch the dumb thing. I’d watched it enough with him and Isaiah since we were kids. I already knew every single line, and I had no doubt Cameron knew it even better.

So why he decided to torture me by climbing into my bed, stretching out on top of the covers, and wrapping his arm around me so I was pressed to his side, my head on his shoulder where I could inhale the oaky and fresh scent of his cologne, where I could vividly see his Adam’s apple dip as he swallowed, and where I could see his pulse beat at the base of his throat was maddening.

His hand was draped behind my back, his large, warm palm resting against my hip, and occasionally, his thumb brushed back and forth. I’d change out of my dress into a tank top and short, lightweight cotton shorts that were so short that if he were to move his fingers an inch, he’d be brushing against my skin.

Something I suspected he knew, and his slow torture involved knowing that and doing absolutely nothing about it.

I swallowed a frustrated growl and stretched my legs, pressing my thighs together to relieve the ache he created.

Stupid Cameron. This was all his fault, and as I swallowed again and tried to get my stupid, freaking wild hormones under control, that dumb thumb of his did another little brushy-brush.

---