“Listen. Itisgoing to be okay, Cam, because this is us. I’m your best friend, and I’m your husband. Those two things mean I get to be the lucky fucker who stands by your side, even when you think you don’t want me to. Us having sex doesn’t change the fact that I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
Her eyes are still brimming with unshed tears, but the stress and fear is slowly leaving them.
“How do you always know what to say?” she whispers, still clutching herself around her stomach. “How is it that you can always talk me down and make everything better.”
I slowly take a step toward her, then another when I don’t see her retreating. Eventually, I’m close enough that I can unwrap her arms and pull her forward to wrap them around me instead. “Because you and me, we know each other. We see each other.”
The second she sags against my chest, I sense the last remnants of worry dissipate. Internally, I heave a sigh of relief. Because I might have said nothing would change, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t terrified it would. I’ve spent the entire day freaking out that she’d run from me, run from this.
Because the truth is, itdoeschange things, I just need her to see that it’s a really good change.
“I hate asking for a promise from you, but…” Her small voice is muffled against my shirt.
“Cam, I promise, I will always be your friend. Always.”
The twinge in my chest is easy to dismiss. I’m not lying with those words, I mean every single one of them. I just also want to be so much more.
Eventually, Cam draws back, and I let her, sensing her need to regain control of things right now. She brushes her hand across her face and sniffs, her eyes darting from my face to somewhere off to the side.
“Can we just get some dinner and chill out tonight?”
I nod, then pull out my phone. “Pizza or Chinese?”
“I could go for some lo mein and ginger beef.”
I tap on my phone, placing an order from the family run Chinese restaurant in town. Adding the spring roll and green onion pancake I know she’ll want, I hit submit and then put my phone back in my pocket. “As you wish.”
A tremulous smile breaks across her face at my words.Our words. She’s not all the way back to ball-busting Cam, but she’s getting there.
“We do have to talk about sleeping arrangements,” I say gently, locking my eyes with hers. Her smile falters, and I almost lose my nerve, but this conversation has to happen. Because I need to know if this morning meant something or was a onetime thing we’re not going to mention ever again. Which means it’s time to put my heart on the line.
“My bed and my arms are open for you, Cam. Anytime, any place. But I need to know if it’s just a warm body next to you that you need at night, or if it’s me next to you that you need. And if it’s me and only me, then I need to know if this is just a simple blow off some steam arrangement or something more. I’m not asking for promises, I’m not asking for anything you can’t give me. Not yet, at least. But I do want to know if there’s a chance that you’re open to someday having more than friendship between us. Because what happened this morning, that’s not how I take care of my friends. That’s how I take care of my wife.”
Chapter twenty-one
Cam
Guilt is warring with desire in my head. Every time Beckett saysmy wife, heat coils inside of me. I can’t explain why I like it so much, fuck knows, I never expected to. I should be thinking it’s pushy and presumptuous, and it doesn’t stay true to the arrangement we had of friends only, married on paper only.
But hearing him say it, especially when he’s referencing this morning, has me burning up with need.
He’s right when he said we see each other. We do. He sees me, all of me, and I am starting to see all of him. And only with that knowledge do I find the confidence to say what’s truly in my heart.
“I’m scared. I won’t lie and say I’m not terrified of losing what we had. But you’re right, there’s more than friendship between us now.”
“Thank fuck.” His low mutter is the only warning I have before his large hands are tangled in my hair and his lips are pressed against mine.
I whimper and pull him in closer. His kiss is the oxygen I didn’t know I was starved for, and as our lips and tongues tangle together desperately, I cling to him. He’s my anchor. Whatever else is happening, Beckett is what keeps me grounded.
The sound of his doorbell breaks us apart some time later, and I take in the sight of Beckett with mussed hair, glasses askew, and breathing heavily with some amusement. My tongue darts out to lick my lips and his eyes zero in on the motion.
“Food’s here,” I whisper.
“That’s not what I’m hungry for.”
I suck in a gasp. Shit, his mouth is potent, in more ways than one. He gives me a smirk; the asshole knows he got to me. Then he strides out of the kitchen to get the door. How he manages to appear calm and collected when I feel like I’m on fire, I don’t know.
When he returns, I’m still bracing my hands on the counter behind me. Beckett just puts the food down on the table, walks over, cups my face again, and says, “Relax, Cam.” I exhale and he smiles, a sweet small smile. “I’m going to kiss you again, okay?” His lips cover mine in a softer kiss this time. Slowly, languidly, he explores my mouth and I open easily to him. His hands travel down my sides to my ass and then he lifts me up and places me on the counter, pushing my legs open so he can step even closer.
