“I don’t think I like your presumptions,” Camden responded, fighting to keep his own laughter at bay. He had attended boarding school throughout his formative years and then went away to an Ivy League institution to which his parents wrote large checks for him to attend.
“But am I wrong?”
Camden held in the laughter for as long as he could until it bubbled up from his chest and spilled past his lips. “No, you’re not wrong. There wasn’t any neosoul there. But when you have your own credit card, you can buy whatever CDs you like and play them on your portable CD player.” He savored the smoky flavor of the bacon. Better to enjoy it now. When he went back to his regularly scheduled life, bacon and biscuits would be traded for fruit and nondairy yogurt. “I was listening toBrown Sugarin my dorm room at thirteen. By theVoodooalbum’s release, I had my first fake ID, and was dancing to ‘Left & Right’ in Manhattan clubs.”
Camden closed his eyes and thought back to the simplicity of those times. His father’s plan for his life had been so far off at that point, it didn’t seem to strangle every breath of freedom Camden ached to steal away for himself.
“Between the music, the clubs, the superb selection of alcohol, and the cannabis—honestly, some of the best marijuana ever grown—yes, boarding school and college, those were the days.”
Elijah placed his palms flat against the countertop and braced himself. “You do realize I’m a cop, right? You admitted to all types of felonious behavior in that whimsical skip down memory lane you were just taking.”
Camden shrugged his shoulders. “And you do realize I’m one of the best trial attorneys on the circuit? I’m certain I could get any charge you lobbed at me set aside.”
Elijah waved a dismissive hand and headed for the refrigerator, returning with a container of half-and-half before he pulled a carafe of coffee from his coffee maker. “Your arrogance will get you in serious trouble one of these days, Counselor.” He filled a cup with the steaming liquid and slid it across to Camden, keeping his gaze fixed, making it impossible for Camden to escape if he wanted to. “If it hasn’t already.”
Again, the lieutenant’s perception was spot-on. Camden’s arrogance was as much a part of who he was as the ink-black color of his hair. His father had spent years conditioning Camden to the idea that entitlement was something to expect when your family’s financial and societal legacies rivaled the Rockefellers.
Camden had never considered the consequences of doing his job. It was all a game of checking off wins as his conviction rate skyrocketed above his counterparts’ in the DA’s office. He’d never thought his desire to take on the big cases to amass professional acclaim would put a target on his back. When you believed you were untouchable, such things didn’t cross your mind.
“Hey,” Elijah called to Camden, pulling him out of his musings. “You all right?”
“I’m fine,” Camden lied. He shoved a forkful of food into his mouth and chewed to keep himself from telling Elijah the truth: he was scared, and it was a foreign concept to him. “Just hoping you have some soy milk in the fridge for my coffee.”
Elijah lifted a skeptical brow, his expression revealing his disbelief in Camden’s statement. This ability to read Camden was proving to be inconvenient if not annoying.
“So, have you figured out how to stop the Path? You use that super cop sense to bust the case wide-open?”
Elijah shook his head as he finished his food, then rinsed his plate before putting it in the dishwasher. “Nope.”
Camden couldn’t tell if the straight face and matter-of-fact tone was an act or not. He’d only known the man for a night. He hadn’t had the chance to learn the subtleties of his displays of humor.
“Are you at least trying?” Camden asked with expectation. There was someone after him; neither of them could afford to forget that.
“No,” Elijah answered. “I’m not trying to stop the Path, Camden. It’s not my job.”
Camden crossed his arms against his chest and stared in disbelief. “Not your job?” he repeated with as much indignation as one could muster when you heard the most ridiculous statement made over the kitchen counter.
“Camden,” Elijah continued, “I’m here to keep you safe.”
A tingle spread through Camden’s system as Elijah punctuated the word “safe” with a brief touch to Camden’s hand.
“My captain has an investigative team trying to figure out how to finish the Path for good. My job is to keep you hidden and alive until it’s time to get you back to the city for your big day in court. Until then, kick back and relax a few days.”
When Camden’s entire body tensed at the idea of relaxing in their current situation, Elijah gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I promise, Camden, nothing will happen out here.”
It was such a small gesture, Elijah holding his hand to comfort him. But in the midst of the shitstorm he was now trying to bluff his way through, Camden hung on to the small sliver of hope Elijah was attempting to give him, while simultaneously trying to deny the sizzle of electricity that singed his skin. He took a slow breath as he wondered which was more dangerous: the threat on his life, or the attraction he held for the man tasked with protecting him.
Chapter Six
“I PROMISE,Camden, nothing will happen out here.”
Elijah watched Camden with a careful eye, noticing the quiet signs of stress the man unknowingly exhibited. Camden’s usual tanned complexion seemed much fairer. The sharp line of his jaw ticked from the rigid set of muscles holding it in place. There were worry lines etched into his forehead. Add in the nervous way he kept repeating Elijah’s answers, the anxiety causing a mild lilt at the end of each sentence, turning it into a question, and Elijah had all he needed to recognize Camden was in distress.
When Elijah had met Camden, his confidence and charm had been the most attractive thing about him. He was charismatic and so certain of himself that he grabbed Elijah’s attention. Yes, Camden was a beautiful specimen of a man. He was tall, built with carved, tanned, lean muscles that made Elijah’s mouth water, and his fingers itched to touch every inch of Camden’s skin. With that lethal combination, there was no way Elijah could’ve ignored how attractive Camden was.
It was the depth of intelligence and confidence in Camden’s eyes, however, that kept Elijah’s attention that night. Not the tight body or perfect smile.
Elijah had never been one to fall into the blue-eyed craze. In part because he’d never been with a man long enough to care about what his eye color was, but mostly because other than available and ready to fuck with no strings, Elijah didn’t much care about the characteristics of the men who shared his bed. Camden was different for reasons Elijah couldn’t explain then or now. Maybe it was the dark hair/blue eyes combo that pulled Elijah in. Or, perhaps, the way those bright eyes shone with mischief when Camden laughed. Whatever it was, within ten minutes of meeting Camden, Elijah was already getting excited about spending quality time with the handsome lawyer.
