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Camden threw a smile her way. “Thank you for coming. Truly. Get home and say hello to Michael.”

The three of us cleaned until our area was spotless. Cam and I took the boxes with the remaining liquor while Ivy grabbed the empty ice chest, and we headed toward the parking lot. Walking beside Cam, I tried not to notice each brush of his arm against mine, but his touch was pure electricity. He was lightning, and I was his ground.

After shoving the boxes into the back of Ivy’s SUV, Cam touched my wrist. “Would you like a ride home?”

“Oh, I rode with Ivy.”

Ivy clacked away, abandoning me.

“I know,” he said. “But maybe…you could ride with me?” His face was so earnest, and the subtlest shimmer of hope warmed his eyes, tugging at my heart.

“You go on, darlin’,” Ivy said as she slipped into the driver’s seat. “I’ve got a dinner date I’ll be late for otherwise.”

My narrow-eyed disbelief went unheeded as she called out a thanks to Cam and bid me good evening.

Cam lightly nudged my elbow. “This way.”

A cascade of tingles chased themselves around my organs as I followed him. His car was ridiculous—a shiny black sedan with deeply tinted windows, the inside of which appeared more like the Star Trek Enterprise than a human vehicle for transportation by land.

“Did you have fun?” he asked once we were out of the parking lot.

“It was pretty intense toward the end there. Are you mad I went behind your back?”

His eyes crinkled with his smile. “No. You’re braver than me. It’s impressive.”

“Brave?”

As we drove, his cologne drifted my way, a drugging combination of fall evenings and woodsmoke. It made me want to curl up with a warm cider and a good book—preferably against him.

“Mmm,” he said. “Vigilante Shay. Taking down the patriarchy one cocktail at a time.”

I forced my gaze out the passenger window, reminding myself it was quite rude to stare. Even when the object of the staring was inordinately handsome in a black button-up that made his eyes sparkle like silver-lined clouds.

My lovesick whimsy painted over the reality of him like a Thomas Kinkade masterpiece—all gilded edges and light-dappled curves. God, I was in so much trouble. How would I work with this man every day—this charming man who gifted me heart-stopping looks and coffee—and not let my desire show? Or maybe I didn’t need to hide it.

Maybe…he liked me too?

I shook myself and brought my attention back to the conversation. “I think I just care less about offending Shep than everyone else.”

“That’s probably true.”

“And probably why he doesn’t like me,” I muttered.

Cam made no response.

I ran my finger up and down the leather of my armrest. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Ivy and Bennett…”

He hummed, almost pained. “I don’t know anything.”

I glanced over at him. “Why does that sound like a lie?”

As he drove, his gaze remained fixed out the windshield, but his expression was contemplative. “I only know enough to speculate.”

“And what do you speculate?”