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“Oh, stop it,” she laughed, tears hot in her voice. I massaged her back, gentle, soothing.
“I won’t. I know you like when I’m difficult.”
“You’ve ruined me, too, you know. Just a month ago I would have been able to go back to a mediocre life as his wife… now I’d just be thinking of you. Really quite inconsiderate of you.”
I kissed the top of her head. “I’m not going to pretend I’m not proud of myself. Having an effect like that on you of all people…”
“I’m nothing special. Just the girl who hoarded sweets in her bedroom because she wasn’t supposed to.”
“So we’re both difficult. Really the only ones for each other.”
She pulled back and looked up at me, her eyes shining. “You’re just terrible.”
“I know.”
She kissed me, and it didn’t take much to tell it meant a lot more than all the others. The way she held me, her lips against mine, not moving, just long and slow, tender and sweet and perfect—the kind of kiss where you were falling in love and you didn’t really want to stop it.
So I kissed her back. And everything felt right.
We fell into her bed before long, and she took me slowly, gently—adoringly. We made love well into the night, and when we finished, she collapsed on top of me, resting her head on my chest, my arms wrapped around her, our breath coming in sync.
And as I listened to her breathe, I thought no one had ever been as lucky as I was right now.
We fell asleep there in one another’s arms, and I woke up to Cameron sleeping softly in the bed next to me, one hand tucked under her cheek, lips parted to show her front teeth as she murmured something soft and quiet in her sleep, and I took a quiet minute watching how radiant she looked in the soft pale-gold morning light before I slipped out of bed and pulled on one of Cameron’s looser sweaters and headed for the kitchen. I was in the middle of cooking still when the door squeaked open and Cameron came through, looking incredible in a pair of panties and a slim tank, and she stopped, giving me an incredulous smile.
“London. You’re cooking?”
“Been picking it up a bit.” And I’d been practicing making pancakes specifically because I really wanted to wake up Cameron to pancakes, cliché and all. I flipped one, feeling a little too good about myself seeing the perfect browning. “Pancakes?”
“You’ve been picking it up because you want to spoil me.”
“Ah.” I looked away. “That’s a bold accusation.”
“And I’m not hearing you deny it.”
“Hm.”
She laughed, coming over to my side and pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I’m just running to the bathroom and then I will eat whatever you want to give me.”
I fumbled the spatula. “That’s—a hell of an offer.”
She smiled. “I know,” she said, before she turned away, and I watched her hips sway as she crossed the room.
Damn, but she had a great ass. And I almost let a pancake burn while I was looking at it.
Parting was sweet sorrow later, after sharing breakfast by the light of sunrise glistening off the marble countertop, once we were both finally showered and dressed and I stood at the door, pulling my shoes on. Cameron brushed a thumb over my cheek, smiling playfully at me, and she said, “Unfortunately too busy to go out tonight, but… I’ll see if I can get a minute to call you. And I will see you for our tour tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow, gorgeous. Stay out of trouble.”
“That, coming from you? Hard to buy.” She pressed a swift kiss against my lips, and I floated on the feeling the whole way through getting back to my apartment, gathering my things, and dressing for work, the whole way through another workday where I was sent to harass a big property developer and torment his pain points until he agreed to meet my boss for some talks about a collection of flipper sites we needed to unload. I couldn’t help but think he was a lovely person and that we could have just settled in with him to help better understand his business plan and get something healthier than dumping a bunch of lemons in his lap and running, but I wasn’t the boss.
Guess I could have been, if I were an independent agent. But I knew the Miami market was vicious—picked you clean faster than a swarm of piranhas. And I wasn’t exactly shelling out for legal fees to get my own independent business set up, either, not when I was still wondering if I had a place to live.
But that wasn’t important right now. Just keeping my eyes straight ahead, focusing on what needed to be done.
And on the fact that maybe—just maybe—I had a chance with Cameron after all.
Maybe it was time to close. Show Kevin she didn’t answer to him anyway.
