Page 89 of The Bachelor

Oaklyn

I can’t wait.

SEVENTEEN

Oaklyn

“Hi,” I said as I slid into the passenger seat of Camden’s Porsche, impressed with the fancy interior and red leather and how it smelled so clean and new.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come up to get you. I looked for parking all along your block and another two blocks in each direction. There wasn’t a single spot open.”

With the front seat of his sports car so compact, Camden looked even taller than his six-three height and even broader than his extra-muscular build.

He also looked positively delicious with his beard just trimmed and edged, wearing a black button-down and jeans. The collar of his shirt was open just enough that it showed a hint of his dark chest hair, his signature leather bracelets around the wrist of the hand that gripped the steering wheel.

I breathed in the scent of his woodsy cologne as I replied, “Don’t worry. It’s much easier for me to come down and meet you. One of the downfalls of high-rise living, as you know.” I smiled as I shut the door and reached for the seat belt.

He pulled into traffic, weaving his way across two lanes. “I think my high-rise-living days are going to be short-lived.”

“Oh, yeah?”

He shifted into another gear, and the hum of the engine vibrated through me. All that did was set the embers in my stomach on fire, ones that had begun to spark the second he called to let me know he was parked outside my building.

“I’m going to start house-shopping.”

I turned toward him, an excuse to stare at his profile. “Now, that’s fun. Are you going to sell your condo? You haven’t had it that long.”

And I knew just how long that had been since I’d attended his housewarming party. A night I so desperately wanted to tell him that I didn’t want to wait the full year and complete the proposition sooner. I just hadn’t had the nerve.

“I’m going to keep it as an investment property and rent it out.”

“Okay, Mr. Business.” I laughed. “No, that’s a really great idea.”

“Well, I can’t take all the credit.” He turned at the light. “When I was at the bar the other night with Declan and Macon, the night you were with Hannah and we were texting”—he quickly glanced at me, a grin climbing over the most enticing lips—“I was telling them about my plans, and they suggested it.”

“I think it’s amazing.”

“You do?”

I nodded and knew he couldn’t really see me, so I added, “Yes, I do.”

“You know, my cousins are going to inherit The Dalton Group whenever my aunt and uncle retire and pass it down. That’ll consume those guys to the point where they won’t need another venture. But me, I want a side hustle, so I can retire long before them. I’m hoping this is just the start of many investment properties.”

“That’s admirable, Camden, and extremely inspiring.”

When he stopped at the light, he gazed at me. “Thank you.”

“What else do you guys talk about during guys’ night?” I giggled, feeling the heat move into my face. “I imagine the conversations take on quite a life of their own once some heavy drinking is involved.”

“And you wouldn’t be wrong.”

“Hannah said Declan came home in pretty rough shape.”

He swiped his thumb over his bottom lip. “I wasn’t any better. I was actually probably worse off than him.”

When his hand left his mouth, I expected it to return to the steering wheel.

But it didn’t.

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