“Hmmm. Egg shaped. Now that sounds really sexy.”
She laughed. “The point I was trying to make is that I would like you regardless of whether or not you had hair. I always liked you for what was on the inside.”
He wasn’t really sure how many people in his life he could say that about. Especially in the past few years.
“What is it?” she asked, putting down the scissors. “You look so serious.”
“Just thinking that when you get famous, things change. People don’t like you for you a lot.”
“Well, they do here. So maybe it’s good you came back.”
“And frankly, people are looking for a down-and-out story. That’s why I have to get back up and running as soon as possible.”
Hadley shook her head. “I completely disagree with jumping on some bandwagon as fast as you can just to avoid scrutiny.”
He shrugged. “I don’t want my story to end with my football career.”
She stood in front of him and put her hands on his shoulders. “I’ve always known you were more than football.”
“That means a lot.” He took her hand. “Here’s the thing, Hadley,” he said, twining his hands with hers. “You remind me of what’s the best in me. Every minute I spend with you, I want you more. I miss you. I miss…us.”
“I miss you too,” she said, her voice practically a whisper.
They’d both leaned in, her lips close, a kiss tempting and inevitable, but he forced himself to say what he needed to say. “I can’t lie to you,” he said. “I’m off balance, off my game.”
“I’m off balance,” she countered. “I…Well, there’s no way I’m ready for another relationship right now. Not to mention if we started one and…and it didn’t work out. We’re both not in the best place.”
She seemed as nervous as he was. “Those kisses on the beach…I haven’t felt that way with anyone but you.” He paused and looked straight at her. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”
She stroked his mostly cut hair, then smoothed a hand down his cheek. Her touch was so pleasurable he closed his eyes.
He pressed his forehead to hers and they stayed there for a long moment. Then he drew back and looked at her.
“We still have a building between us.” This time, he had to make sure all the cards were on the table.
Neither of them moved. Seconds ticked. In the corner of the patio, Bowie rolled over in his bed, his tags making a soft chink. In the background, the waves gently rolled.
He should let her go, but instead of dropping her hand, he tugged on it. Her eyes widened in surprise.
“Despite everything, I want you so badly I can’t think of anything else.” There. He’d spilled what was in his heart.
“Me too.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Except I’ve never kissed a man with a bad haircut before. You really should speak to your barber.”
“You’re fired,” he said. And then he kissed her.
* * *
Their lips met in a clash of passion, so different than the more tentative kisses on the beach. Cam’s lips were hungry and devouring, his mouth possessing hers with every kiss, every stroke. And every single one left her dizzy and trembling, her heart pounding, her breath running ragged. She kissed him as if they had years to make up for in a few short minutes.
They sort of did.
“I think you’re holding back.” He smiled against her skin as he dropped a line of kisses all along her neck.
She made light of it, but truthfully, there’d never been any holding back with him. Nothing had ever felt like this, no one. No one but him.
That was the kind of thinking that could get her in big trouble. So she pushed it out of her head and told herself to just enjoy the moment.
She’d started to untie the tablecloth cape around his neck when he reached up and took her hands. “You don’t have to say it,” he said, his voice low and ragged. “I know.”
She pulled back, frowning a little. “Know what?” she asked, a little breathless.
“That I’m a really good kisser.”
“Excuse me?” she said with mock outrage. “I’m a really good kisser. I hope our competitiveness doesn’t extend to the bedroom.”
“I’m just messing with you.” He chuckled, his eyes full of warmth and mischief.
She pulled herself back from completely falling under his spell. “Look I…This is just for fun, right?” Because they were thrown together, they couldn’t help but be reminded of old times.
That was all.
In response, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. So close she could feel the rock-hard wall of muscle surrounding her, the taut planes and valleys of his chest, the solid body built for blocking. “Right,” he whispered as he swept back her hair and kissed the sensitive skin below her ear. “Neither of us is ready to start something. I get it.”
She stood and took his hand. “Come inside now.”
He took her hand but didn’t budge. “That doesn’t mean this doesn’t mean something to me.” He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, each in turn.
That made her eyes threaten to tear up. And made her melt into him as he kissed her again, slowly and languidly, until the patio began to spin and the world around them faded away.
“I can’t fight this anymore, Hadley. I just wish I had more to bring to you.”
She shook her head. “It’s you I want. Nothing more or less. Just you.”
On hearing their footsteps, the dogs, who’d been passed out in the corner of the patio, woke up begrudgingly. Jagger shook his head, his tags clinking, and Bowie yawned widely. Cam let them out into the grassy part of the yard to do their business, then rounded them up. The letting in of the dogs, the turning off of lights, the sliding shut of the glass patio door—it felt like a routine, a ritual that seemed natural and seamless.
“The kids are settled in.” Cam gave a nod to the two dogs who’d curled up on opposite sides of Gran’s couch in the living room.
“I think Jagger’s pretty excited about having an overnight guest,” Hadley said. “I know I am.”
“Wait,” Cam said. “Doesn’t Jagger somehow always end up in your bed? Because Bowie has that habit too.”
“Yes. But maybe since they have each other they’ll stay out here.”
“We can hope.” Cam pulled her close and kissed her, slow and deep, leaving her shaky and wanting. “Can I take you to bed now?”
She nodded and started to guide him down the hall, but he suddenly scooped her up instead. She gave a little yelp as he slung her effortlessly over his shoulder and carried her to Gran’s spare bedroom. “Amen to that.”
* * *
It was a little primal, being slung over Cam’s shoulder, being carried by a man who’d blocked other guys with his body—for a living. But despite all the impenetrable muscle, he set her down on her bed as gently as a snowflake.
He lay over her, whispering to her how happy he was to be with her, how he’d missed her, and of course, everything he wanted to do with her and to her. And despite her resolve to hold back, she believed him. Every word.