Page 31 of Be Mine Forever

Most of the time, hidden it from himself.

But things kept slipping. Not only the guard he’d kept on his feelings for Jo, but also the horrors of his childhood visited him now every night. That monster, that demon, had been consigned to hell, but he somehow kept slithering into Cam’s dreams.

Yeah, things kept slipping. No way could he give in to these feelings when his hold on…things…on himself was this shaky.

Jo stirred, drowsiness clearing from her eyes. She didn’t realize he was there yet. She sat up and the strap of her camisole slipped down her arm. She bundled the wild hair tumbling around her shoulders into a fist. Glancing to the right, she jumped and yelped a little when she saw him.

“Cam, good grief! You scared me. Geesh.”

“Sorry.” He took a cautious step in her direction. “I called you on the intercom and I knocked. Guess you were pretty tired.”

“Yeah.” She threw her legs over the side of the bed, feeling around with her bare feet for something. “The time difference in Kenya is killing me. We had another really early call.”

Cam spotted a pair of leather flip-flops under the love seat. He grabbed them and squatted in front of Jo, slipping them onto her feet. His fingers skimmed the smooth skin of her ankle, lingered at her soft heel before he stood back up. Her eyes, wide with surprise, locked with his.

“I’m sorry.” He took another step back. “I just realized you were looking for your shoes and I…”

You knelt at her feet like a servant and put her shoes on for her. And then you copped a foot-feel. Perv.

“It’s um…it’s fine.” Jo pushed off the bed, tugging at the shorts, which couldn’t be much longer than her panties. If she could even wear panties with those.

Please change clothes. Please change clothes. Please change clothes.

He wouldn’t ask again. That would alert her to how turned on he was.

Like your dick at half-mast won’t send that memo.

He turned toward the door, crossed the sitting room, and tossed words back to her.

“Dinner’s ready.” He paused at the threshold into the hall. “It’s cooled off outside some. Thought it’d be nice to eat in the gazebo by the river.”

Silence answered him. That had been Ms. Kris’s favorite way to eat dinner, especially on summer evenings.

“I haven’t eaten down there since Aunt Kris got sick.” Jo’s voice barely cleared a whisper. “I’d like that a lot.”

***

If he had hoped perfectly grilled red meat, crisp summer vegetables, and the quaint setting would ease things between them, he had been wrong. The fairy lights decked the gazebo in twinkles, but nothing about their conversation sparkled. Clanking dishes. Chewing and swallowing. Sipping. Those were the only sounds. The gazebo was a lovely cell and awkwardness their warden.

Jo finally laid down her steak knife, pushed her plate away, and took one more sip of her cabernet before standing and moving over to the gazebo bench. She folded her legs up, wrapped her arms around them, and laid her forehead against her knees.

“I’m tired of this, Cam.” Jo’s words were smashed against her knees, but the message was still clear. “So tired.”

“Of what?” He was coward enough to hold on to these last few seconds before she forced him to make hard choices. To say hard things.

“Of this thing that we almost are, never were.” She turned until her back was against the gazebo wall and she faced him, feet flat on the floor. Eyes pinned to him. “That we could be, if you’d let us.”

“Jo, that can’t happen.”

She blinked a few times in quick succession. Maybe she hadn’t expected him to face it head-on. Couldn’t blame her when he’d been running from this conversation, from this moment for months. Maybe for years. He had to stop running long enough to let her go. To really let her go so she would realize he wasn’t for her.

“Why not?”

The fairy lights teased out the caramel streaks in the dark hair falling past her shoulders. Her posture, always so straight, bent toward him. Begging him to bend, too, like a displaced goddess asking a mere mortal for permission. For direction. He couldn’t stand it.

“I’d hurt you, Jo.” He swallowed, throat and mouth dry despite the wine he still tasted.

“You mean…sexually? Like you’re into kinky stuff?”

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