Page 85 of Sunny Skies Ahead
Kam
See you soon
I’ve missed you
He sent the last message like an afterthought he couldn’t keep to himself. My heart practically tripped over itself as I ran towards the bathroom to shower and change clothes. As soon as no longer smelled like the barn, I cranked the oven on to preheat.
I let myself drown in the calming rhythm of cooking breakfast. I lined a baking sheet with foil and baked the bacon, the way my Nana would on the mornings when she didn’t want to deal with the extensive clean up involved with pan-frying. I made too many pancakes because I’d never figured out a batter recipe that yielded a reasonable amount. It was either too much, or too little. The strawberries in my fridge were still good by some stroke of luck. I had tea and coffee and fresh creamer.
I wasn’t as destitute as I’d originally thought.
I was focusing too much on the logistics of this—IknewI was, and yet I couldn’t help myself from rearranging the table runner three times and wiping down the kitchen island once more for good measure after all the food was staged.
The doorbell ringing was my saving grace. I readjusted the color of my yellow sweater and smoothed out the wrinkles in my jeans. I could do this. I walked calmly and eagerly towards the door and took a deep breath before opening it.
“Hi,” I said, and the sight of Kameron was a shock to my system. His black hair and beard were both longer, and he looked more undone. He was so put together, so restrained in his usual day to day, but this Kameron—thisKameron looked like a man who’d been tortured by his own thoughts for the last two days.
We had that in common, it seemed.
“Hi,” he replied. He looked me over, but there was no heat in his gaze. He was assessing, cautious—like he was checking me for recent injuries and new scars. The gesture set a fire in my chest, stoking all the feelings I’d tried to keep dormant to life again.
“Come in,” I said, and stepped aside to allow him entrance into the farmhouse. He kicked his boots off at the door. Bass barked in the living room, releasing a low growl as he came sprinting towards the door. The growl transitioned to extensive tail-wagging when he noticed Kam.
My heart squeezed as Bass launched himself at Kam. Kam let out a laugh and eagerly petted the little rascal, a smile of pure joy on his face.
“I missed you, buddy,” Kam said. His eyes met mine, and I smiled.
“The last time we tried to have dinner here, we were rudely interrupted,” I said as I walked towards the kitchen. “I thought we could have a do over?”
I winced as the words sounded less like a statement and more of a question. I’d never been the most confident person in the room, but there was so much we needed to talkabout.
“And I didn’t really have food in the house, but I had enough to make breakfast, so I hope pancakes, bacon, and eggs work for you?”
I was rambling, and afraid of turning around to see whatever emotion might be written on Kameron’s face. He’d always worn his thoughts and emotions on his sleeve in a way so few men did—equal parts restrained, observant, and eager. I leaned against the kitchen island which was overflowing with the breakfast spread. Kameron kept his distance, and I finally looked up to meet his eyes.
“You didn’t have to cook,” Kam said, and there was a warmth in his tone that put me at ease. “Really.”
“I wanted to,” I admitted. “There’s so much I want to say, Kam.”
He swallowed tightly at the sound of his name on my lips. I tracked the movement. He was restrained, his posture more formal. Standoff-ish, but not in an aggressive way.
He was guarding his heart. I couldn’t blame the man for that.
“I need to explain myself first, if you’ll allow me. I’ve been going out of my fucking mind thinking that your entire perception of me has changed, and I just—” he ran both of his hands through his hair.
“Okay,” I said, grabbing both of the plates I’d pulled from the cabinet and handing one to him. “Food first, then talk?”
Kam nodded and took the plate gratefully. When we were both seated at the kitchen table with overflowing plates, we spent a few minutes eating. Abbie would laugh if she could see us, only because she always made me eat something before orduring a disagreement. I was prone to forgetting to eat, and when I did, our discussions quickly became heated when they didn’t need to be.
I chuckled at the memory, slapping a hand over my mouth when I remembered I wasn’t alone.
“Sorry,” I said sheepishly. “I’m thinking of all the times Abbie made me eat when I tried to start a fight. Most of the time I’d forget what we were supposed to be arguing about after I had a snack.”
“Are we going to fight?” Kam said. There was a teasing lilt to his voice that made me shiver.
God, I’d missed him. I’d missed him so much more than I’d allowed myself to consider before this moment.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” I said. “Certainly not now that I have pancakes.”
