Their words were still muffled as I crossed the checkered diner floor, but the tone was unmistakable. Dad was pissed. Cam was in that scary calm that usually came before he destroyed something.
“Hey, we were waiting for you,” I said to Cam as I faced them both. “We’re in the back.”
Cam’s eyes found mine, and if I were anyone else, I would have flinched at what I found there. This wasn’t the guy who carried me home on the Cat or the one who kissed me in the kitchen. This was the Cam who killed people, and it finally hit me just how close to the surface that part of him lived, barely leashed. There was a part of him that I wasn’t sure cared about anyone or anything—even me.
He expected me to retreat; that’s what that little glare meant.
“Saved you a seat right next to me.” I held out my hand, palm up, and waited.
The ball was in his court. I refused to look at anyone else or even think of the possible humiliation I’d just opened myself up to. The humiliation Cam would have served me had we still been in that summer before he left for basic. I kept my eyes locked on his and didn’t move my hand. Something told me the minute I lost eye contact, he’d blow.
“Willow,” Dad warned.
“Cam,” I whispered. Every second he waited, my hand felt heavier with potential devastation.
He looked back at my father, and my heart sank.
But his hand took mine and felt lighter than the emptiness I’d been holding, even with its weight.
“Judge Bradley,” Cam said quietly in farewell. He moved, putting himself between Dad and me as he started back toward the booth.
“Willow,” Dad called, and it wasn’t quiet. I paused, knowing the gloves were off.
I looked back anyway.
“What would Sullivan say?”
He hadn’t landed a punch—he’d shot directly to the heart, and mine shattered. My breath stuttered, and Cam’s hand tightened around mine.
“I don’t know, Dad. But I’ll be sure to ask him the next time I see him.” I faced the booth and put one foot in front of the other until I was seated against the wall with Cam blocking the rest of the diner.
He lifted his arm, then wrapped his hand around my shoulder and pulled me into his side. It wasn’t a romantic declaration, though that’s probably what everyone assumed. It was full-on structural support.
I concentrated on Cam’s scent, all mint and pine, and tried to shove everything else that had just happened in a box to be examined later. Tried but didn’t quite succeed. Dad had really just used Sullivan against me. Against Cam.
“What just happened?” Gideon asked.
“Willow excommunicated herself.” Charity’s eyes glossed over as she offered me a weak, trembling smile. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, the movement jerky.
“Smile,” she ordered as her own brightened. “Every tongue in here is going to wag, so don’t you dare let Dad win. Not in this. Smile. It’s the best armor you’ve got.”
I did, but if Gideon’s cringe was any indication, it wasn’t successful.
“How long you think your dad can stay pissed about something like that?” Gideon nodded back toward where Dad had declared open war on me, then stole another fry.
“How long will it take him to forgive one of his daughters going against his direct wishes as publicly as possible?” Charity asked.
“Yeah,” Gideon clarified.
“She’ll let you know when it finally happens.” I gave my sister a wry laugh.
“Amen,” she agreed, and our laughter turned real.
Cam’s arm tightened around me, and I leaned into him.
“It’s okay, sis. There’s room at the black-sheep table for you. Right, Cam?”
“There’s room wherever you want it, Willow.” He rested his chin on the top of my head. “Toffee?” He reached for my milkshake and took a sip, startling a little.
“Nope. It’s salted caramel. Surprised?”
He looked down at me, and my Cam was back in those deep-brown depths. “Definitely not what I expected to find.”
“In a good way?” I whispered so only he could hear it.
His brow knit for a second; then he leaned in and kissed my forehead. “The best way.”
…
Three days later, Cam walked into the Historical Society meeting and took the empty seat next to mine. He’d been back and forth to Salida to watch over his dad and spent the rest of his time designing the rebuilds, and it showed. He looked exhausted.
Other than a short phone conversation, we’d only spoken over text message. I’d basically become a hermit, working nonstop at my house, but the disdainful looks I’d gotten when I walked in told me everyone assumed I was now dating Cam.
I almost laughed at them because even I wasn’t assuming that.
In fact, every sign pointed to the opposite.
“We’re up in one more agenda item,” I told him.
“Okay,” he replied, shucking his coat.
“Are you? You are. I didn’t even know you owned a tie.” But holy crap did he make it look good.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he teased with a wink.
“Everyone thinks I know everything.” I hung on that last word.
“Everyone can mind their own business,” Cam said directly to Mrs. Rhodes, who had turned in her seat to blatantly glower.
She wasn’t alone. Dad had rotated between ignoring and glaring at me since I sat down, and more than one of the older ladies had muttered that Sullivan would be ashamed.
Yeah, he would have. Of them.
“Our next item of business is reviewing the business plan offered by Camden Daniels,” Walt announced from the dais. “Would you like to approach, Cam?”
“Yes, sir,” he answered and stood.
“Good luck,” I whispered.
He paused in the aisle, file firmly tucked in his right hand, and offered me his left.
“You’re just going to piss people off even more if you shove me in their faces,” I hissed.
“Come on, Pika. I saved you a seat next to me.”
Thea elbowed me in the side.
I took his hand and raised my chin as we walked down the aisle, ignoring the scalding pain from that damned scarlet A branding deeper into my skin with every whisper. Cam was an expert at not caring what people thought—or at least looking like it.