“I did too,” I reply. “I’ve missed you for a lot of years.”
“I’ve always been right here.” She holds her hands out at her sides.
“And I’m the one who went away,” I finish for her. “But I’m home now, and I don’t want to keep having this uncomfortable distance between us, Cami. We’re better than that.”
“So, you want to be friends again?” She tilts her head to the side, her dimple winking at me as she bites her lip. “Not that we were ever not friends, but you know what I mean.”
“No.” Enough of this talking-in-circles bullshit. I begin to walk toward her, slowly. “That’s not what I mean.” Her shoulders straighten as I approach. Green eyes widen and are fixed on me now. “I want. To take you. On a date.”
Finally, I’m inches from her, but I’m not touching her. My hands are braced on the countertop next to her hips and I’m leaning in. She licks her lips. Her pupils dilate.
She’s not immune to me, and damn if I don’t want to boost her up on this countertop and take her, right now.
“A d-d-date?” she stutters.
I nod slowly. “A date. Dinner. Conversation.” My eyes skim over her, from her hair to her lips. “The kind of date that might end with a kiss.”
“What kind of kiss?” she whispers, staring at my lips.
“The good kind,” I reply, also whispering.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
I frown. “Why?”
“Because you’re Mia’s brother.” Her eyes find mine. There’s heat there, but there’s more. Fear? Uncertainty?
“I’ve been more than that for a long time, Cami.”
Redness fills her cheeks, and I suddenly feel like a grade-A asshole.
“Hey.” I tip her chin up so I can see her eyes. “It’s just dinner.”
“And maybe a kiss.”
“Probably a kiss,” I say with a grin. “I could just kiss you now to get it over with.”
“No, that’s okay,” she says quickly, placing her hand on my chest to push me away, but instead she grips my shirt in her fist. “I haven’t brushed my teeth.”
God, she’s so fucking adorable.
“Tomorrow, then,” I whisper before I lean in and kiss her forehead. Her skin is so damn soft. Everything about her is welcoming and sweet, and I want to stay and soak her in.
So I’d better go.
“Have a good night.”
She nods, staring at my shoulder.
“Cami?”
“Yeah?”
“You have to let go of my shirt so I can go.”
“Oh!” She lets go and tries to smooth out the wrinkles, which only makes me hard as a damn rock. Her small hands rubbing all over my chest—covered in a shirt or not—should be goddamn illegal if I don’t get to strip her naked as a result.
“I’m okay.” I take her hands in mine and kiss her knuckles. “Make sure you got all that glass.”
“Glass?” She frowns, and I can’t help but chuckle. “Oh! The glass. Damn cat.”
“Meow.”
I glance down to find Scoot sitting by my feet.
“Stop being mean to your mommy.” I point at him, but he just blinks at me. “And both of you be nice to each other.” I wink at Cami as I turn to walk away.
“Landon,” she says. I turn and raise a brow. “Are you sure?”
I’m going to do my best to wipe away any of that uncertainty. I smile at her and nod. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“I know.”
Cami’s never late. And now I have to fill the next twenty-four hours until I can see her again.
“HEY BOSS, WE’RE gonna knock off for lunch,” Jay, one of my crew members, says the next day. “We’re just gonna go get some burgers. Welcome to join us.”
I shake my head and measure out a board. “Thanks, but I’m good. I’ll see you in a bit.”
The guys stow their tools and head out, laughing and giving each other shit, which is the norm. My crew is tight-knit and reliable, and I get along well with them, despite only being back for a short time. But most of them have worked for my dad for many years. Hell, a few of them taught me in the summers when I’d work for my dad, and not just about drill presses and table saws.
There might have been a few inappropriate magazines that made the rounds a time or two. I smile at the memory and measure a board.
“How’s it going over here?” Mia asks as she walks in carrying a covered plate.
“It’s going,” I reply.
“I saw the others leave for lunch, so I decided to bring you something to eat.”
“I’m quite sure you couldn’t have seen that from your kitchen lair,” I reply with a chuckle. “But thanks for the food.”
“Maybe I wanted to talk to you too,” she says in her direct way. Mia’s always been the kind of person who speaks her mind. You never have to guess where you stand with her. It’s one of the things I love the most about her.
“Is something wrong?” I take a bite of her lasagna with white sauce and sigh in happiness. “This is damn good.”
“I know.” She grins. “I don’t know if something’s wrong. That’s why I want to talk to you.”
“Okay.”