Page 46 of Call It Home

I was worried Vivien’s criticism would upset Cam, but she took it in stride. She was back on track, believing her vision was the best, and biased though I may be, I agreed. It seemed that maybe she’d rediscovered her passion for design.

What wasn’t on track was me. I couldn’t get the kiss we shared out of my head. It hadn’t come up again between us, but I saw her watching me when she thought I was focused on something else. Not that it was hard to see me since we spent all of our waking hours together, working, eating, and even sleeping in the same close quarters.

She acted as if nothing had changed between us. But it had.

And while she was more focused and enjoying herself, I was more distracted than ever. It was impossible not to notice every little thing about her: Had she always left the bathroom door opened a crack when she took a shower? And what was up with always needing to come out of her bedroom, barely wearing any clothes at night, claiming she needed to get a water bottle before she went to bed?

I threw myself into taking on more and more work instead of paying someone to do it. I laid new tile, installed flooring, and framed out more new windows and doors. Our new challenge was the primary bedroom. My new efforts had helped our budget since we had poured an extreme amount into this leg of the project.

“This is going to be a winning element,” Cameron commented as she surveyed a newly installed fireplace.

We didn’t doubt the other couples would place a fireplace in the bedroom. It was practically an expectation. But I doubted any of them installed in a way that it became a partition, separating the massive sleeping area into two sides: a sleeping space and a living space. A giant TV hung above it. Anyone could watch a movie or enjoy the fireplace as they relaxed in bed. On the other side, a small living area became a place to sit and relax with a hot drink from the beverage center we’d added.

It was a massive undertaking, and, at times, I wasn’t sure we were going to pull it off in such a short time. But everyone seemed determined to help us get the win and kicked into overdrive. And fortunately, nothing went wrong that set us back in time or money.

“I’ve got the wood cut and ready to put up on the ceilings. I should be done by tonight,” I added.

Cam’s face lit up. “Perfect!” she exclaimed, her excitement palpable. “I have a feeling we’re going to blow this week out of the water. Others might think to add beams, but I bet we’ll be the only ones to have a coffered ceiling. It will scream coziness mixed with luxury, even to someone like Vivien.”

A wry smile tugged at the corners of my lips. “Let’s hope so.” I lost my smile. “Although, I’m starting to think Jeremy could just flick paint on a wall and Vivien would praise it as cutting-edge design.”

Cam chuckled. “You’re not wrong. I think Presley is about to claw her eyes out.”

Vivien practically cooed at Jeremy when she added her thoughts during the judging wrap-ups. Myles and Mitch appeared amused by it, while Roy seemed miffed that he wasn’t getting his share of her attention.

“Maybe if Viv is distracted by them, she’ll forget to target me,” Cam mused.

I nodded and went back to work—something I needed as my own distraction.

* * *

A crick in my neck woke me from the awkward position I’d fallen asleep in while trying to read on the couch while Cam worked at the small kitchen table. Usually, I tried to read a book I’d brought along to relax and clear my head, but tonight, I must have fallen asleep before I even finished a paragraph.

Looking around, I didn’t see Cam anywhere, but the light over the kitchen table where I last remembered seeing her was still on. Maybe she’d gone to bed and left the light on for me. She didn’t seem as inclined to tell me what she was working on lately, and I hadn’t asked.

But not talking didn’t erase the memory of our kiss. It was seared into my brain. Anytime I thought about it, it was like a magic button for my dick to remember, too, and he really liked what he remembered.

It didn’t help that we had to share such small quarters. There was some privacy but only visually. I could still hear when she got in the shower every morning. I could smell the floral scent of her shampoo and bodywash. I could imagine the sudsy water sluicing off her body and practically feel the towel rub over the same curves that had been rubbing against me.

I shook my head. Going there was not a good idea, and since even trying to quietly rub one out in the shower would only alert her to the fact that I was still awake, I needed to find something else to focus on.

The answer lay under my feet—literally.

These same close quarters were really starting to get to me. Everything I needed here was in one suitcase, plus my backpack. I had my clothes, my toiletries—shampoo, shaving supplies, toothpaste, and toothbrush—and my charging cords. My clothes fit easily into the two drawers in my small room, and my running shoes and work boots fit neatly under the end of my bed.

But Cam had all kinds of clothes. Every night, she’d change out of her “uniform” and don a pair of tight pants she called leggings with a tank or cropped shirt. She’d leave her flannel draped over the arm of the small couch or on a table, her shoes got kicked off in any direction, and every night when she went to bed, she’d just get up from the table, where she was reviewing her plans and making any adjustments we needed, and go to her room. Unable to stand the mess, I’d stack her notes on top of her computer, make sure her earbuds were charging, and pick up the clothes.

Tonight, she’d left her laundry basket next to the couch, almost as if she’d wanted me to trip over it. Surprisingly, her pants and shirts were folded neatly, but God help me, her bras and panties were piled on top. Little scraps of silk and lace that had me swallowing hard against the images of what she might look like wearing nothing but them.

Irritated, I grabbed the offending basket and opened her door to put it in her bedroom. I almost didn’t care if I woke her up. I’d be quick about it. In and out. Slide the basket in and shut the door so I didn’t have to see her sexy lingerie.

Except when I opened her door, my eyes were automatically drawn to her bed.

Expecting to see a huddled form lying under the covers, I was surprised to see them thrown back and the bed empty. I already knew the bathroom was empty.

Where the hell could she be? I looked at my watch. It was a few minutes before midnight.

I stomped back to my side and put on my sneakers, grabbed a jacket, and bounded down the stairs.

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