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Cam sat in an Adirondack chair in front of a glowing fire pit, the flames dancing in a low circle at his feet and his face illuminated in the red light like a beacon. I’d seen him come and go over the week, had pushed away whatever strange fascination I had with him. But now...I liked campfires.
I pulled myself back around the edge of the deck, thinking.
Did I dare go over there?
I was in some kind of state, and I knew I wasn’t my most charming self. But Cam had made it pretty clear he wasn’t in the market to be charmed.
And I didn’t want anything from him except his physical presence for a few minutes, just until I calmed down.
Did I?
All the fresh air and open space was making it impossible to think straight. I just knew I couldn’t be alone another second. I was down the steps and in a chair across from him before I’d had time to think too hard about it.
“Please, join me.” Cam’s voice rumbled over the dancing flames, sarcastic and ridiculously sexy.
“Sorry.” I said. “I know I should’ve asked.”
“That’s okay.” His eyes didn’t lift from the flames.
“I’d offer to go, but I have no intention of actually leaving. Not for a few minutes.”
The bright eyes flicked up to my face and then quickly back to the fire at that. “You okay?”
“It’s just...God, it’s so quiet up here. And did you hear that squeal?”
Cam said nothing, and I found myself watching him for a few beats, keeping my eyes low so I wasn’t blatantly staring. He looked so thoughtful there, his chin dipped into his chest, his elbows spread wide and his hands in his lap. I noticed a tumbler on the ground next to his feet, a line of amber liquid forgotten there.
“I’m not used to it,” I said, my mouth pressing forward even though my mind was screaming at me to just stay quiet. Self-control wasn’t really my thing. I’d been a doer my whole life, hell-bent on pushing forward, on accomplishing, on proving things to people. Silence did not come naturally to me. “The city...” I trailed off, trying to think New York City into being around me, working to summon a mental atmosphere of being in my Sixteenth Street apartment, the sweaty must of the city air, the constant hum of energy buzzing in my ears, my mind. “The city was never still like this, never really quiet. I never felt alone there.”
That statement had been close to admitting my current loneliness, which I wasn’t eager to do. Showing weakness wasn’t my thing any more than reticence was. But something about Cam’s quiet—if grudging—acceptance of my presence made me want to talk, to be truthful.
He looked up then, surprising me when he said, “I used to live in Hollywood. I know what you mean. Took me a while to get used to it here.”
“Yes,” I said, my voice coming out maybe too loudly, too enthusiastically. It just felt good to believe he understood even this small thing, though it was also a revelation to learn that Cam wasn’t just a part of Kings Grove, that he’d had another life somewhere else. “And the space...all the open space. I mean, that house. It’s amazing. But it’s so huge...” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Is that why you live in the little house and rent the big one?” I couldn’t picture him on the same paranoid patrols I’d been making, checking closets and bathtubs for serial killers.
He lifted a shoulder in response. “Maybe.”
“Well, it feels too big for me by myself,” I added, never able to just let things go.
The fire seethed and rolled low in the copper circle at our feet, and the sizzling and popping were made louder by the extreme silence of the forest around us. It was mesmerizing, and for a little while I sat transfixed, staring into the fire, sneaking occasional glances at Cam.
Much too soon, he stood, and disappointment pushed my heart down into my stomach, and made me feel alone again. “Cam?” My mouth was going again before my brain caught up.
He looked at me and it felt like a victory, my mood lightening instantly. “Yeah?”
“Thanks for letting me sit for a few minutes.”
His eyes lingered on my face for a long beat, and then one corner of his mouth lifted in a tiny smile. “It’s fine.” His posture shifted an inch, something in the lengthening of his spine, the way his hand gripped his thigh for a quarter of a second making me think his interest had been piqued by this statement. “You doing okay? Settling in?”
Honesty came before I’d had time to think. “It’s been a little hard.”
He nodded, just a curt dip of his chin. “Well, I’m right here if you need anything.”
Despite the relative coolness with which he’d delivered the words, they did something to me. They wound around me, warming and reassuring me. I wasn’t sure he meant that like, “come on down and bother me whenever,” or “I’ll make sure you’re okay,” but something in me settled when he said it. He was right here. I wasn’t completely alone. “Thanks.”
“Want me to walk you home?” he asked, his eyes rising toward the big house.
“No, that’s okay,” I said, immediately regretting it. I stood and lifted a hand. “Good night.” I could feel his eyes on me as I made my way back across the short open space between our houses, and the knowledge that he was looking out for me, making sure I was safe, warmed me.
