Page 60 of Craving

The noose of her debt tightened around her neck. It was the last big barrier before she could move on, before she could have all those things that Marlon promised her. Maybe if she told Marlon about it, it wouldn’t seem so impossible.

But the words wouldn’t come. She was ashamed of her mistakes, embarrassed to be caught in this situation. And talking about finances was so alien that in this beautiful moment, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything.

An irrational worry clung to her, dragging her back to her past: What if she let Marlon in, told him about her finances, and he took advantage of her? What if she made the exact same mistake she’d made at seventeen all over again?

He wouldn’t hurt her. She was almost—almost—sure. But… What if he did?

She was so close to paying the last of her debt off, so close to turning the page.

He wouldn’t hurt me, she thought, but her voice still wouldn’t come. She was so used to dealing with things on her own that even the thought of sharing her burdens made her throat tight. Paying off the last of her debt was like the final hurdle; once she cleared it, she could have her prize. She could have her new life.

Wrapping her arms around Marlon’s neck, she pushed her worries aside and let her lips curl into a smile. “I’ll stay,” she promised. “If you’ll have m—”

Marlon kissed her before she could get the last word out. His hands were hungry as they gripped her hips, her waist. He lifted her onto the counter and notched himself between her thighs, cupping her face to deepen the kiss.

Camilla fell into the pleasure of his touch and drowned in it. She tangled her hands into Marlon’s hair and returned his kiss with fierceness of her own, relishing every grunt and breath and sigh that came from his lips. Dropping kisses onto his neck, she clawed at his shirt and ripped it off over his head.

His chest was a thing of beauty. Perched on the countertop, she let her hands roam over the thick slabs of muscle, the hard pack of his stomach. He had only the barest hint of abdominal muscles, but his body was solid in a way that made Camilla tighten all over. She ran her hands down his pecs and over his stomach as he placed two large palms on her thighs and stroked. His head tilted back as he sighed, obviously enjoying her touch as much as she did.

“Are we moving too fast?” she asked suddenly, then regretted it. She wanted to forget her worries, not indulge them.

But Marlon just lifted his hand to her jaw and stroked her cheek. “You want to slow down?”

“Not really.”

His lips tilted. “Me neither.”

Then he reached for his belt buckle, and the time for words was over.

TWENTY

Marlon spent Thanksgiving with Leo, Amelia, Camilla, and all their friends. Leo and Amelia hosted the get-together in their apartment, and the meal was done potluck-style. It was the first time in years he’d done anything for the holiday, and he loved every second of it. Camilla’s pumpkin pie was unreal. Her apple pie was even better. When he took her home, they were both too full to make love. As he wrapped her in his arms and fell asleep beside her, Marlon felt like the luckiest man in the world.

She was his. She would remain his. And he was hers.

The next weekend, Marlon scanned the crowd at the Winter Fest and wondered how his life had gotten so good. The Winter Festival was an annual tradition in Stirling that brought the whole town together. Big tents were set up along Main Street, with the square around the Stirling clock tower converted to a stage for live shows that happened over the duration of the weekend. A folk band plucked guitars and sang in front of the milling crowd. The community hall, on the other end of the square, had its doors thrown open and housed a vibrant farmer’s market. Beer tents were set up along the open lawn opposite the square, and food trucks lined the streets.

Marlon scanned the area and was happy to see his employees in fluorescent jackets dotted around the space, exactly where they were meant to be. He met Cormac near the main stage and shook his hand.

“Looking good,” Cormac said, nodding to the happy crowd. “No issues so far?”

Marlon shook his head. “You sure you’re okay taking the evening shift?”

“Got nothing better to do.” Cormac shrugged, then jerked his chin at the opposite end of the square. “Plus, looks like you’ve got company.”

Camilla walked toward him, wearing a dark-orange pea coat and black boots. She was laughing at something Amelia was saying, one arm linked through Amelia’s elbow and the other around her dark-haired friend’s. Lucy was her name, he remembered. She’d been a bridesmaid at Amelia’s wedding. Scarlett ambled along beside them, sipping a hot drink in a takeaway cup from one of the food trucks on the other side of the square.

Cormac shifted beside Marlon as they watched the women approach. Marlon thought he wanted to say something, but before he could, the ladies were stopping in front of them.

“Hi,” Camilla said, beaming. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, her blue eyes bright in the fading sunlight.

“Hi,” he replied, suddenly tongue-tied. Last week, she’d been wondering if they were moving too fast. Marlon, on the other hand, felt like they couldn’t move fast enough. He’d never known life could be this good. Camilla brought with her simple, easy pleasure. Marlon couldn’t ask for more.

“We were going to grab some dinner,” Camilla said, gesturing to the food trucks, “but we can wait if you need to finish your shift up first.”

“Nah, let’s go,” Marlon said, but when he made to sling his arm around her shoulders, someone came barreling into their little group.

“You,” hissed the man, pointing at Lucy. “I can’t believe you.”

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