I just shake my head. “And what about you?”
“Me? Wasn’t here. I was off visiting Rosie. My sister.”
“No, I mean, the situation is hard for you too, right? You don’t like when they argue.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “I’m worried Cameron will end up leaving if Alec doesn’t get his head together,” he says eventually. “It’s silly, but we’ve been together forever. I want us all to stay here.”
“It’s not silly. They’re your family.”
He offers me a tired smile. “Aye, they are.” He pecks my cheek. “C’mon. Enough sad stories. I want to see how awkward Cameron is the morning after. I have a feeling he will be adorable.”
Getting dressed poses an issue. My one pair of leggings desperately needs a wash, and everything else I packed is highly inappropriate for a farm. If I get my hands on some sewing supplies, I’ll be able to alter some of the clothes I bought in Dalbrae to fit me; but for now, I think I have to just suck it up. I get changed into a pencil skirt and a beige blouse sent by one of my sponsors. I take my meds and head into the kitchen. Alec has thankfully left. Cameron is frying something on the hob. He’s leaning against the counter, taking the weight off his leg.
I think of him running out into a storm even though he knew he could get injured, and my heart aches. He might be grumpy, but he’s obviously such a good person.
I sidle up to him. “Good morning. You’re cooking breakfast?” There are eggs, bacon, muffins, chocolate-chip pancakes. “Wow. So much food.”
He doesn’t look at me, just flips an egg. I reach over for the coffee jug, and his entire body freezes as my boob accidentally brushes his wrist.
“Summer,” he grits out. “Sit. Down.”
I’m hurt. He looks mad. Why is he mad at me?
Fraser nabs a pancake. “Aw, mate, for us? You do take care of us.”
Cameron bats him away. “Make her sit,” he says roughly. “Now.”
“Summer,” Fraser says solemnly. “Youmustsit. I ammakingyou.”
“Oh-kay.” I let him wrap his arm around my shoulders and lead me to the sofa.
“Told you,” he says in my ear. “Awkward as hell. Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay?” It doesn’t feel great that the guy I slept with last night won’t look me in the eye. Fraser settles me on the couch, and Cameron brings over two plates of steaming food.
“Eat,” he orders, handing them to both of us and crossing his arms. I take a bite of pancake. “Good?” he asks roughly.
“It’s delicious, thank you!”
He nods. “And do you—” He clears his throat. “Do you feel okay? After last night?”
I’m not sure what he means. “Yes?”
“You’re not…” His cheeks redden. “You’re not…sore, or upset, or anything?”
Oh.I glance at Fraser, who’s giving me an I-told-you-solook. Cameron does care. He’s just very, very awkward. “Oh no, I feel great.”
Cameron’s shoulders loosen slightly. “Good,” he mutters.
“I’m not sore or upset either,” Fraser announces, inhaling a sausage. “Not that anyone asked.”
Cameron turns to go back to the kitchen. “Wait,” I call. “Won’t you eat with us?”
Cameron is still for a moment. Then he picks up his plate and joins us. I beam, leaning against his side.
We all eat breakfast squashed on the sofa together. It’s slightly awkward with Cameron sitting ramrod straight and tense as a board, but I am fast becoming a fan of being sandwiched by warm muscle.
The only thing ruining it is my blouse. I’d originally packed it for a photo op, not to wear casually. The lace is scratchy, and I can feel the collar pulling too tight around my throat. I try to tug at it as I eat, but it keeps digging in. I squirm uncomfortably.
