Page 11 of When You Are Mine

“Sorry. Um, how’d your appointment go?” Maybe his casual tone would distract her from the fact that he’d practically gobbled her up with one look. “Weren’t you considering some space for your thrift store?”

Enthusiasm for the venture lit her up. She talked about the property, sketching pictures in the air with her hands, bringing the retail space to life with her slim fingers.

Cam’s girl.

She stretched her pretty mouth into a wide smile, laughing through her description of the Realtor, who’d been late and eccentric.

Cam’s girl.

She bit the corner of her lip, pleating her brows with her calculations of what it would take to whip the space into shape.

Cam’s girl.

The reminder beat a guilty rhythm in his head, but he couldn’t stop watching, couldn’t stop wishing, couldn’t stop wanting to know everything about her…for himself. Not for Cam.

He felt like a cryptologist facing a magnificent strip of code, determined to crack it and understand the secret language he read in her guarded eyes.

“So, let me get this straight,” he said when she paused to draw a breath. “Instead of having professionals come in and do the remodeling work for your thrift shop—you said it’s called Déjà Vu, right? You’re asking for the money so you can do it yourselves?”

“They wouldn’t stretch the allowance like Meredith and I will.” Kerris’s hands finally stilled, clasping around her denim-clad knees. “And the money that’s going toward labor, we can use on our space. You know?”

“Can’t say I do. I like professionals doing the things they’re supposed to do, and me paying them to do it.”

“Only one of the many differences between us, I’m sure.” A wry smile tugged up one side of her mouth.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He sat up straighter on the shared blanket.

“No offense. It’s just the kind of response I’d expect from someone who doesn’t have to save money.”

“Not that again. You do realize this is reverse snobbism, right?”

“Wait,you’recallingmea snob?” She threw back her head and laughed, locking eyes with him. The sound of her laughter, raw and free, punched him in the gut.

The intensity simmering between them had knocked him over from that first glance. It was still there, right below the surface, coiled like a whip poised to crack at any moment. He felt it now, and knew the moment she felt it, too. The laughter withered on her face, replaced by the guard she’d probably never meant to let down.

“What’s wrong?” Walsh knew. It was wrong for him, too, but he still had to ask.

“Nothing.” She didn’t look up from the simple floral pattern on the blanket. Apparently daisies fascinated her. “Just wondering if Cam said how long they’d be gone?”

Walsh looked up the riverbank, squinting against the sunlight. Their friends were walking toward them, laughing, with a few canoes hoisted on their shoulders.

“Here they come.” He stood and reached down to help her up.

She ignored his hand, standing on her own and brushing imaginary grass from her jeans. He searched her face, silently questioning, but she ignored that, too. She gave him a brief smile constructed mostly of plastic, before taking off toward Cam, who sprinted forward, grabbing her by the waist and lifting her up. They shared a smile that twisted Walsh’s stomach into a knot.

“Get everything done?” Cam kissed her lightly on the lips. “You feel good?”

“I feel better now that I’m with you.” She smiled into the tenderness of his kiss.

“Hey, dude.” Cam smiled at Walsh over Kerris’s shoulder. “’Bout time you joined the living. I hope you won’t be such a drag all summer.”

Walsh returned his smile, watching Cam lower Kerris back to the ground. She was where she belonged. He’d only just met the woman yesterday. He refused to believe the signals his heart kept sending him. Things like that didn’t happen in real life. Cam was the best friend he’d ever had. The bond they’d built over years of happiness and hurt—that was real.

A silver-blond goddess walked up behind Cam, looking like she’d walked off the set of an Abercrombie & Fitch shoot. Knowing his friend Sofie, she might have.

“Did you have a good nap, Walsh?” Sofie stepped close enough for him to smell her perfume mixing with the scents of the outdoors.

He’d known her since preschool. Her father had been right beside his, building the Bennett empire. Her recent success in modeling had landed her on an unwritten “It Girl” list, and she was starting a new role as celebrity goodwill ambassador for the Walsh Foundation. He knew, though, that he was the real reason she was in Rivermont.

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