“But you won’t listen,” she pointed out.
“I’ll listen,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll always agree with you.”
She sighed. “Ditto.”
He nodded. “I know. But friends can be honest with each other.”
“Okay. Well, honestly, this is all really weird. All of it.” From them kissing to Henry and Didi becoming buddies.
“Yeah,” Cam acknowledged. “But if the way things were before was ‘normal’ I think I’m in favor of weird.”
He might have a point. It did feel better to think their families could get along rather than thinking she and Cam needed to keep the three-generation-old family feud going.
She sighed. “So you totally know what you’re doing?”
“No. Do you?” he countered.
“No,” she admitted.
Not with work. She’d never led a project before. And not with Didi. Alzheimer’s was a strange disease. There were commonalities among patients, of course, but no two people were alike. Whitney didn’t know for certain if she was doing something right or wrong when she let Didi drink margaritas in the middle of the night or when she said okay to Didi hanging out with the McCafferys. Or anything else, honestly.
“The main thing I’ve learned about having a group of friends who really care about me and my happiness is that if I fuck something up, I’ve got people who can help fix it,” Cam said. He paused, watching her. “Have you ever felt like you could screw something up and it would still be okay?”
Whitney shook her head slowly without even thinking about it. She had definitely never felt that way. Not with her friends in high school. Not with the acquaintances she had now. Not with her family.
“So that’s what you need most,” he said. His voice was a little gruff, but he seemed determined. “You need real friends. You need to have people who have your back.”
Whitney actually felt her eyes stinging slightly. That sounded amazing. She’d been watching these men together for the past couple of months and completely envying their relationships. She envied how comfortable Piper was with them as well. It was clear that even when they disagreed, they cared about one another. And when it came to Hot Cakes, they were all working toward the same goal and trusted and respected one another.
She wanted that.
All of it.
A lot.
Cam was right. Maybe it was because he knew her. Maybe it was because he was really paying attention. Maybe it was because she was not good at hiding her feelings and vulnerabilities after all. But, yes, she wanted all of that. Trust and respect and a team and friends.
“It’s pretty pathetic that I don’t have any friends at age twenty-nine, isn’t it?” she asked softly. “And it should feel uncomfortable to admit to you that I didn’t have a good relationship with my dad and grandpa and brothers.”
Cam’s jaw tightened and his eyes flickered with emotion. “Does it?” he asked, his voice rough.
Did it feel uncomfortable or pathetic? Strangely, no.
“Not really.”
He gave a single nod. “Good.”
“I understand why you want me to feel comfortable at work,” she said. “That benefits Hot Cakes, and you. But why do you care if I have friends?”
He pulled in a breath and wet his lips. “Because I want to be the one who gives you what you need.”
His words were husky and they hit her in the gut. Heat spread and she sucked in a breath. That sounded very protective. Almost possessive. Yet, comforting at the same time.
“Really?” she asked. “You think I need this?”
He met her eyes directly. “Yes.”
“You could feel smug about that,” she said. “You could be happy that I’ve been pretty lonely and unhappy all this time.”
Again, his jaw ticked. “I guess. But I don’t. Not a bit. It makes me crazy knowing that you haven’t had what you wanted and needed.”
She stared at him. Wow. This was all so unexpected. Everything about Cam being back had been unexpected. From the chemistry still between them to how he’d just rolled with everything going on with Didi to… this.
“You wanted me to be happy without you?” she asked, her voice a little husky now too.
“No.” He blew out a breath. “I don’t know. No, I didn’t want you to be happy without me, exactly, but it makes me nuts that you’ve been alone and feeling… not good enough and not valued and not fulfilled. It’s… confusing as fuck.”
She laughed softly. “Actually, I get it,” she said, realizing that she really did.
“Yeah?”
“I’ve been really happy that you have been so successful. I watched your football career and, of course, everything that’s happened with Fluke and I’ve been proud and happy about how that all turned out. Even though I really missed you and it made me sad to be without you.”
His eyes flashed at that and Whitney had the definite impression that he wanted to reach out and pull her in close.
“And,” she went on. “When I watch you with the guys, and with Piper, I’m so, so happy that you have them. Even while I’m jealous of how well they know you and all the memories they have with you.”
She saw him ball his hand into a fist, as if fighting that urge to reach out.
“So,” she said. “I get what you’re feeling a little, I think. I care about you enough to want you to be happy but I also care enough to be a little sad that I’m not a part of it.”
He nodded. “I definitely hate that you haven’t been happy. And I definitely want to be a part of making you happy. And I’m pretty thrilled that what you need is friends, because I have some of the best and I’m happy to share. That is, at least, something I can give you.”
She smiled even as her throat tightened. Being friends with him and him realizing how important this Hot Cakes project was to her was amazing. She didn’t have to worry about hurting him or choosing work over him
