Page 54 of Stolen Dreams

Her blush deepens.

“Cameron, this is Kaya, a… friend helping us with the classes.” His pause makes my stomach flip.

“Oh.” Her gaze unenthusiastically shifts to mine. She clenches then relaxes her fingers before lifting her hand. “Nice to meet you, Kaya. I work in the kitchen with Chef Calhoun.”

I study her obvious beauty. Subtly scrutinize her body language and tone. Pick up on her easy attraction to Ray. Arch a brow at her territorialism—a feature Ray seems oblivious to.

I slip my hand in hers, my grip firm yet delicate, and give a slight tilt of my head as we shake. “Likewise, Cameron. Today’s dish was my favorite yet.” I toss out the honest compliment then release her hand. “Sorry to cut this short, but I do need to go.” I avert my attention to Ray. “Ready?”

“After you.” Ray gestures for me to lead the way.

We walk through the restaurant in amiable silence. Muted music echoes around us from the kitchen where the cooks dice and chop vegetables for tonight’s guests.

As we step into the sun, his knuckles graze my bicep. “Can I see you again?”

I clamp my lips between my teeth to fight a smile. “I’ll be here tomorrow.”

He chuckles. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

I shorten my stride and prolong the walk to my car. “Whatdoyou mean?” I ask, tone playful.

His fingers trail down my bare forearm, skim my palm, then ever so slowly lace with my fingers. My skin tingles where he’s touched me; my hand in his is a live wire. Desire blooms low in my belly. A deep-rootedneedsimmers in my bones. I feel dizzy. Unsteady. Reckless. Remiss.

His thumb strokes the length of mine. “Can’t stop thinking about you.” He inhales a shaky breath. “Or that kiss.”

Makes two of us.

“I like you, Kaya,” he says without hesitation. “More than anyone in a long time.” His thumb strokes mine again, softer, almost indiscernibly. “So much it scares me, but in a good way. If that makes sense.”

“It does.” I stop a few feet from my car and spin to face him.

“But it scares me more to not give us a shot.” He widens his stance until our gazes are level. “I won’t skirt around the truth.” He shakes his head. “Tucker’s mother did a number on me. Messed with my head for years.” He tucks his chin to his chest, takes a deep breath, holds it for a beat, then meets my waiting stare on the exhale. “Lies, cheating, running off with him in the middle of the night, and…” A notable ridge forms between his brows. “I didn’t come out here to dump all the heavy stuff, but it feels wrong to keep it from you.”

My grip turns fierce, protective, as I step into him. “Sorry that happened to you and Tucker. Couldn’t have been easy for either of you. Thank you for telling me.” I caress his thumb. “If it makes you feel better, I’m scared too.”

Those addictive umber irises dart between mine. “Why?”

I take hold of his other hand. “For years, I’ve had my life mapped out. A long list of goals to accomplish.” I bite my bottom lip. “None of which include a relationship… until thirty.”

“Thirty?” He visibly stiffens then relaxes. “And when will that day arrive?”

I titter. “Nice, roundabout way of asking a lady her age.” I playfully roll my eyes. “Five years.”

His eyes widen as he studies every line and curve of my face. As if he’s seeing me for the first time.

Age hasn’t come up until now. Considering Ray has a nine-year-old and soft crow’s-feet when he smiles—which is often—I guess he’s in his late twenties or early thirties. But maybe I’m way off.

His tongue peeks out and wets his lips. “Tell me I don’t have to wait five years, Fire Eyes.” The plea in his voice, the desperation in his eyes, the gravity pulling us closer tugs at something in my chest.

My heart hammers as I swallow past the building lump in my throat. He gave me one of his truths; now it’s my turn to dothe same. “My family has been trying to find me a husband for years.”

At this, he jerks back. Red crawls up his neck and mottles his face.

I stop breathing. “What?”

His hold on me tightens then relaxes. “My parents did the same to my younger sister. The day she turned eighteen, they all but thrust her at potential suitors. Dinner parties with select Seven families. After a major clusterfuck last year, it stopped.”

“How old’s your sister?”

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