belonging.
“Are you grinning at anything in particular?” Cam asked.
She focused in on him. He was irritated. Wait. Not just irritated, but actually holding her upright. When had
“Okay, Sally Fields, let’s go.”
“They really do.”
“Look, don’t take this wrong, but it might have more to do with Serena wanting to hurt me than her liking you.”
Well, hell, if that didn’t cut through the nice buzz she had going. “Did you ever think that maybe not everything is about you?”
“She’s my ex, Katie.”
“And now she’s my friend.” She pulled free of Cam and went to straighten her glasses but managed only to poke herself in the eye.
Cam tried to take a hold of her again, but she shook her head, which then swam. “Whoa.” She winced at both that and her increasingly slurred voice. Apparently, she really was quite tanked. “Listen, I might be your employee, and I might have a crush on you, and I might want to have some more…” She lowered her voice,
He blinked, and she poked him in the chest. “But that doesn’t mean you can tell me who to be friends with.”
He lifted his hands. “All I’m trying to do is take your drunk ass home.”
“I’m not-”
“Please, you’re ripped one hundred ways to next week.”
“You know what?
“Fine.” He gestured ahead of him to his truck. She lifted her chin and took two steps toward it, then tripped over her own feet, hitting the sidewalk on all fours.
“Goddammit.” She was scooped up into a set of hard, warm arms. Which really was just where she wanted to be. So she sighed and snuggled in, pressing her face to his throat, exposed since she still had his scarf.
And then, because she couldn’t help herself, she kissed the warm flesh. And then, because she
“Okay,” he said shakily. “None of that.”
“You’re no fun.”
“
“No, you’re not. In fact, you’re the opposite of fun. You, Cam Wilder, are a fun sucker.”
He opened his passenger door and deposited her inside, then came around and got in the driver’s side. “I’m the definition of fun.”
“If that were true, you’d have had me naked by now.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Not that drunk.”
He swore beneath his breath again and started the truck.
“Huh.”
He slid her a look. “Huh what?”
“I can’t tell what you’re thinking.”
He said a big load of his famed nothing to that.
“You’re hard to read. I mean, sometimes I can tell. Like when you have your tongue down my throat, I know what you’re thinking then.”
This tore a laugh from him.
“I came here for adventure, Cam. To risk. To live.”
He stopped laughing. “I know.”
“And I got all that. Especially the adventure-which turned out to be you. You’re my adventure, Cam, all dark and dangerously alluring.”
He slid her another long look, but he still didn’t enlighten her on his thoughts. And he didn’t take her to Wilder Adventures either, but instead pulled into a driveway in front of a house near the end of town.
The two-story Victorian had a sign out front that read: DR. SINCLAIR, URGENT CARE. CLOSED. “You’re sick?” she asked.
“No, Annie asked me to pick up some supplies. She likes to get stuff from old Dr. Sinclair rather than drive into South Shore.”
“I thought she gets her diabetes supplies from the UPS guy.”
“This is for our first-aid kits.” He paused. “Dangerously alluring?”
“It’s all in your eyes. Well, and your butt. You have a great butt. Doc’s closed, Cam.”
“He’s recently had a heart attack and hasn’t yet found someone to take the place over for him.” He turned off the truck and opened the door. “I’ll be right back.” He pointed at her. “Don’t go on any joy rides without me.”
“I’ve never been on a joy ride in my life.”
“Well then, don’t start now.”
When she was alone, she let out a long breath and watched him walk up the path. Both of him. Good God, she really was quite drunk.
Something rang, startling her; then she laughed. It was her cell phone. She patted down her pockets before she realized it was in her purse on the floor. She reached for it and ended up on the floor boards. Odd how being drunk really did affect one’s motor skills…
Cam gave up knocking on Doc’s door and went back to his truck. He opened the door, then paused at the sight of Katie on her knees.
Her hair had slipped out of its restraints. Her eyes were glassy but full of the life that was like a punch to his gut every single time he looked at her. Her cheeks were red, her mouth curved in the smile that never failed to cause a chain reaction on his.
“My purse was ringing,” she explained.
He nodded and resisted the temptation to say, “While you’re down there…”
Because he wasn’t going there.
Not.
Going.
There.
Yeah. And maybe if he kept repeating it to himself, his body would get the message. But God, look at her. Adorably trashed. Sexy as hell.
And utterly and completely unaware of the hold she had on him. Without meaning to, he was finding his heart cracking, tentatively opening in spite of himself, and God knew, hell
Oblivious to his inner turmoil, she laughed at herself, then crawled back up into her seat and shoved her hair out of her face to grin at him. “Hey.”
“Hey right back atchya.”
She stared into his eyes. “You’re so pretty, Cam.”
“And you’re hammered. Seriously. Your vision is impaired.”
“Come on. You have a mirror. You know you’re pretty.” She waved a hand, managing to avoid hitting herself in the face this time. “But actually, I meant that you’re pretty on the inside, even if your heart’s been hurt.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Still matters.”
“Only if you let it.” He went to start the truck, but she put a hand over his. He shook his head even as he turned his hand over, entwining his fingers in hers. “I don’t like to look back.”
“I know that. You don’t look to the future either. You live in the moment to avoid more hurt. I can understand that. I think.” She fisted her hands in his jacket and tugged him close enough to give him a big, smacking kiss on the lips that tasted of vodka and sweet, warm woman. “I’m living in the moment while I’m here in Wishful.” She batted her eyes. “I’m in the moment right now. How about you?”
