Page 59 of Best Part of Me

But I don’t. I just nod and nuzzle into his neck while he gifts my jaw with a kiss.

CHAPTER16

Maverick

Rosie

If you break her heart, I’ll kill you.

Me

I don’t plan on it.

Rosie

I’m not fucking kidding. I will chop your body parts into tiny bits and dump them into the Colorado River. Starting with your favorite body part.

Me

Thanks for the visual.

* * *

It’s not typical for me to receive texts from Rosie. But Cammie has been filling her in on our week together, so I’m not surprised. And I’m half tempted to ask Cammie if she’s giving away every detail or if she’s saving at least a little bit to keep tucked away like a secret in her heart.

I’m rooting for the latter.

Keeping part of our relationship sacred feels as if it’s more treasured. But I have no right wanting that. Or even hoping for it.

I have no right expecting anything from her.

I feel like I’m turning into a fucking softy.

The campground Cammie found in Joshua Tree with a hot spring is perfect. After I wake from our nap, I hop on my phone and cancel the reservations at the other campground. Cammie stirs next to me, her eyes fluttering open and a delicious smile forming on her beautiful, pouty lips.

“I’m in the mood for ice cream,” Cammie says lazily.

“Can I tell you what I’m in the mood for?” I grin and tug her into my arms, my fingers inflicting pressure on the back of her neck.

A blush sweeps across her cheeks, and a breath of air expels from her lungs while she gazes at me.

She pushes me back playfully. “Later. First ice cream.”

“Promise?” It comes out like a growl.

She blinks up at me, purposefully. “Promise.”

There’s a camp store on the grounds so Cammie and I walk hand in hand to see if they have ice cream. At least if they do, one of us will have their craving quenched.

We pass other campers who smile and greet us. I wonder if we look like a real couple. A thought like that usually sends me down a spiral of panic. My first inkling to abandon ship. But imagining being in a real relationship with Cammie makes me smile.

My camera dangles around my neck, unable to detach completely from work. Inside the store, there aren’t only your typical camping goods for sale, but also, they’ve got a small kitchen and waitstaff where they’re serving burgers and fries and, as luck would have it, milkshakes and ice cream.

While Cammie orders our ice cream cones, I snap some pictures inside the store. She hands me a waffle cone with two scoops of raspberry sorbet—my favorite—with the biggest and brightest smile stretched on her face.

“Sorbet. Because you prefer it over ice cream.”

Damn it if my heart doesn’t stall in my chest.

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