Page 69 of Craving

His eyes were dark as he scanned her, brows drawn. All Camilla wanted to do was faceplant into his chest and feel his arms circle her, but those days were over. She didn’t have the right to draw comfort from him anymore.

Silence stretched between them for a moment.

“Hi,” Camilla finally said.

“You get the cake done?”

Camilla nodded. “Yeah.”

Marlon dipped his chin. “Good.”

Their conversations had never been stilted—not like this. They’d spent so much time together over the past month, much of it in silence, but it had never felt so alien, so uncomfortable.

Acid gurgled in Camilla’s stomach. Her instinct was to run away and hide from this, but as she stared into Marlon’s eyes, she realized that she didn’t want to run or hide. She wanted to fix this too, just like she’d fixed the cake.

Camilla had spent her entire adult life learning to stand on her own. She’d been taught over and over again—by her family, by her ex, by the mistakes she made with Frankie—that it was better to rely on no one but herself.

But Marlon had shown her something new. He’d been there to cook dinner when she was dead on her feet. He wrapped his arms around her at night and set her off into deep, peaceful slumber. He made her laugh. Made her gasp. Made her happy.

She didn’t want to stand apart from him. For the first time in over a decade, Camilla wanted to open herself up to something new. She’d been terrified the night before—terrified and furious. But what if she’d been wrong? Marlon had just been trying to keep her safe. He had no idea that her business was on the line, and it was because she’d been too afraid to tell him.

He was a good man. She wanted so desperately to be the woman for him, and she knew she had to be the one to take the first step.

“I’m sorry,” Camilla blurted.

Marlon blinked. Frowned. “For what?”

“For pushing you away last night. I was stressed out, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

There was a moment—an instant—where Camilla thought Marlon would cross the distance between them. She thought she’d get to smell the scent of his skin, feel his arms wrap around her body.

But Marlon’s eyes grew shuttered as his jaw hardened. “Thanks. Apology accepted.”

Who could have guessed that three simple, polite words could crush Camilla so thoroughly? There was no fixing what was broken between them. She’d hurt Marlon, pushed him away, and now their relationship was over.

Exhaustion seeped into the marrow of her bones. She slumped where she stood, feeling the weight of the past twenty-four hours—and the weight of what was to come with Frankie—press down on her shoulders. Blinking up at the man before her, Camilla didn’t have the strength to pretend. “Can I stay at your place tonight?” she asked, all her pride stripped away. “I know I said I’d be out, but I haven’t had time to line up a place to stay. I could ask one of the girls, but all my stuff is at your place and…”

She trailed off when she saw the tightness in his jaw. His eyes blazed, like her request made him angry.

Hurt and unwilling to let him see her cry, Camilla straightened. “Never mind. Forget I asked. I’ll pick up my stuff while you’re here working and leave the keys in the mailbox.”

“Camilla—”

She turned to go, but Marlon caught her arm.

“Of course you can stay at my place,” he said, voice low. “Camilla. I…”

His voice trailed off, and then his phone rang. He yanked it out of his pocket, jaw tight, nostrils flaring, and Camilla took the opportunity to run away. She got in her car and headed to the bank. There was one more chore to take care of today. After that, Camilla would let herself fall apart.

TWENTY-TWO

Marlon stood at the back of the room while Nadia and Fred went from table to table, laughing and chatting with their guests. Dinner had gone smoothly, and it was almost time to cut the cake. Nadia was elegant and beautiful in her lace-covered dress embroidered all over with seed pearls. The tiara nestled in her dark hair gleamed in the lights of the ballroom. Fred looked at her like she was his world.

She was a beautiful bride, but she couldn’t hold a candle to Camilla in a pair of old sweatpants and a ratty tee. Checking his watch, Marlon ached to go home and make sure she was okay. His team had performed well throughout the day, and they hadn’t had to turn away any of the guests. After what had happened at Fred’s company retreat, it was a relief to have this event go smoothly. Still, he couldn’t wait to leave.

Scanning the room, Marlon found himself wondering what Camilla was up to. She’d looked exhausted earlier. Worry gnawed at him, and as the minutes ticked on, his guilt grew like a mushroom after the rain.

He’d been offended by the accusations she’d hurled at him, but she was right. He’d barreled into her life with the best intentions, but he hadn’t taken the time to talk to her about what she really needed from him. He’d created a fantasy in his head, where Camilla slotted perfectly into his life. But he hadn’t considered her dreams, her work.

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