Page 53 of Cold Feet
I smiled, picturing it. "Some things never change."
We stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching as the sun continued its descent, the sky deepening from pink to a rich, vivid orange that reflected off the water in shimmering ribbons of gold.
"Thank you," I said finally. "For today. For being so... good with my family."
He shrugged, but I could tell he was pleased. "They're easy to like. Zayne's always been the closest thing I've ever had to a brother," he paused. I'm really hoping that's still true after all of this."
"Still. It can be overwhelming. The Decker clan en masse is a lot."
"I liked it," he said simply. "The chaos, the teasing, the way everyone just... belongs. It's nice."
There it was again. That glimpse of vulnerability, quickly masked but unmistakable.
"You know," I said slowly, "you belong too. Not just here, but with the team. With the guys."
He glanced at me, surprised. "I know that."
"Do you? Because sometimes it seems like you're still... adapting. Still trying to fit in, even after all these years."
He was silent for a long moment, his gaze returning to the horizon. "Survival instinct, I guess," he said finally. "When the ground is constantly shifting under your feet as a kid, you learn to become whoever you need to be in the moment. After a while, it's second nature. But sometimes it can feel like you never really get to be yourself.”
Theadmission lodged in my chest, a tender ache for the boy he must have been. Always having to adjust, always watching for clues about how to belong to the latest iteration of his own family.
"You don't have to do that with me," I said softly. "I like the real Cam."
His eyes found mine, intense and searching. "Do you even know who that is?"
The question was weighted with more meaning than I was prepared to face. Because the truth was, I wasn't sure I did know the real Cam. At least not fully. I'd spent so much time filling in the blanks in my own mind after that night in Boston so many years ago, and then crafting an image of him for public consumption so vivid I believed it myself, that I'd really neverproperlylooked below the surface.
"I'm starting to," I said honestly.
A small smile curved his lips. "Better late than never, I guess."
The sun was nearly gone now, just a sliver of fiery pink on the horizon, the sky deepening to purple above us. A solitary gull flew overhead, its cry echoing across the water as it banked toward the distant pier.
"It's beautiful here," Cam murmured, his gaze following the bird's flight. "Peaceful. I see why your family has held onto this place for so long."
"It's my favorite spot in the world," I admitted. "No matter how crazy life gets, I always feel calm here."
"Even with me disrupting your calm?" he asked, a teasing note in his voice.
I looked up at him, really looked, taking in the relaxed set of his shoulders, the softening around his eyes, the way the fading light gilded his profile with burnished gold.
"You're not disrupting anything," I said softly. "You fit here."
His eyes met mine, and something electric passed between us – a recognition, a possibility, a bridge spanning the careful distance we'd maintained. He took a half step closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, smell the subtle notes of his cologne mingling with salt air..
"Lana," he said, my name little more than a breath. He raised his hand, gently brushing a strand of hair from my face, his fingertips grazing my cheek. "You have sand..."
The touch was brief, but it sent shivers racing down my body, cheeks flushed, nipples hardening, goosebumps rising on my arms despite the lingering warmth of the day. His hand lingered, cupping my face with a tenderness that made my heart stutter. Time seemed to slow, the space between us charged with something fragile and dangerous and inevitable.
Heleaned in, his eyes never leaving mine, giving me every opportunity to pull away. But I didn't. I couldn't. Some magnetic force held me in place, tilting my face up to his, my breath catching his in anticipation. The universe suddenly narrowed to just us: his face inches from mine, the warm brush of his breath against my lips, the roar of blood in my ears drowning out even the sound of the waves.
His lips hovered a breath away from mine "Is this okay?" he murmured, his voice rough with a want that mirrored the ache building in my own chest.
Reality crashed back with jarring suddenness.What was I doing?This wasn't part of the plan. This wasn't pretending for an audience. We werealoneon the beach, no cameras, no family watching. Just us. Just real.
I stepped back abruptly, breaking the connection, a sudden emptiness filling the space Cam had filled just seconds before. "We should head back," I said, my voice sounding strained even to my own ears. "It's getting dark."
