Page 64 of Cold Feet
"Sorry," he murmured, not sounding sorry at all. "Didn't mean to crowd you."
But he didn't move away, and I found that I didn't want him to. In the dim light filtering through the partially open door, his eyes were dark, intent, focused entirely on me.
"Cam," I whispered, still undecided if it was a warning or an invitation.
His hand came up slowly, giving me every opportunity to pull away, before his fingers brushed a strand of hair from my face with exquisite gentleness. "You still had some flour," he said softly, though we both knew there was no flour there.
"Thanks," I managed, my voice barely audible.
His fingers lingered, tracing the curve of my cheek with a touch so light it was almost reverent. I should step back. I should make a joke, break the tension, maintain the professional boundaries I'd insisted upon. But I remained frozen, caught in his gaze, my heart thundering against my ribcage. The shelf pressed into my back, cool metal against warm skin, grounding me when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.
"What are we doing, Lana?" he asked, his voice low and serious.
"We're..." My throat felt dry, the words sticking. "We're making breakfast."
"That's not what I mean, and you know it." His thumb brushed across my lower lip, sending a cascade of shivers down my spine. "What's happening between us? Is this still pretend?"
The question hung in the air, weighted with all the things we hadn't said, all the history between us, all the possibilities stretching out before us.
"I don't… " I started, but was interrupted by the pantry door swinging fully open.
"Are you two looking for the syrup or making out?" Zayne's eyes narrowed as he took in our proximity, Cam's hand still hovering near my face.
"Looking for syrup," I said quickly, stepping away from Cam as if I'd been burned. "Top shelf." I gestured vaguely upward, desperate to explain our closeness.
"Right," Zayne said, clearly unconvinced. "Well, the kids are getting restless, and Mom's asking what's taking so long."
"We'll be right there," Cam said, his voice remarkably steady given what had almost just happened. "That top shelf is pretty high."
Zayne looked between us for another long moment, then nodded curtly. "Don't take too long. People are hungry." He pushed the pantry door wide open as he departed, a not-so-subtle hint.
"Lana," Cam began once Zayne was out of earshot.
"We should get back," I interrupted, unable to meet his eyes. "Like Zayne said, everyone's waiting."
"We need to talk about this."
"There's nothing to talk about." I finally looked at him, steeling myself against the hurt in his eyes. "This is pretend, remember? That's what we agreed to."
Without waiting for his response, I grabbed the syrup and fled the pantry, my cheeks burning and my heart racing. I could feel Cam's eyes on me as I returned to the kitchen, could sense his frustration and confusion at my retreat. But I couldn't, wouldn't, let myself go down that road again. Not with Cam. Not when I already knew the ending.
I pasted on a smile as I rejoined the family, pouring syrup for the kids with forced cheer, avoiding Cam's gaze as he emerged from the pantry a few seconds behind me. When breakfast was finally served, I deliberately sat next to Nana instead of in the empty seat beside Cam, ignoring his wounded expression.
"The stars are aligning in interesting ways today," Nana announced, studying me over her coffee cup. "Particularly for you, dear. Venus and Mars in perfect harmony."
"That's nice, Nana," I said absently, focusing on my pancakes to avoid looking at Cam.
"Passion and truth," she continued. "A powerful combination. Cosmic alignment speaks of revealing what's hidden, bringing truth to light."
"Pancakes are delicious, Lana," my aunt Margaret interrupted, mercifully changing the subject. "Now, about wedding plans – have you thought about colors yet? Lana's ring could be inspiring."
"Sapphires in the engagement ring," Nana nodded sagely. "I saw it in my vision."Great, now my grandmother was psychic too.
"Leave them alone, all of you," Zayne grumbled, giving me a look that was part suspicion, part concern. "They're still getting used to the idea themselves."
"Thank you, Zayne," I said, grateful for the intervention despite knowing his motives weren't entirely altruistic.
"I don't mind," Cam spoke up, finally meeting my eyes across the table. There was something challenging in his gaze, a quiet determination that made my pulse quicken. "I'm all in, whatever Lana wants."
