Two If by Tito’s
TWO IF BY TITO’S
RACHEL
Monsoon season in Arizona brings many things—humidity, dust, that generally soggy feeling, and, in rare occasions, a hot baker standing on your doorstep soaked from the rain.
I worked from home that day and got pissed at myself for checking my phone every thirty seconds, though Cam had not texted or called. He had left me for his ex last night just as things were literally heating up between us. When his Rubicon pulled into my driveway that night, the motion of him getting out of the car was like a shot of adrenaline straight to my veins. Part of me wanted to be upset with him, to tell him that he wounded me by leaving me, and part of me couldn’t wait to open the door and fall into his arms.
Ultimately, I told myself we were friends first, and I knew what it was like to be tormented by an ex who couldn’t move on. I waited for my doorbell to ring, but it didn’t for what felt like the longest time. When I peeked out the slit between my shade and window, I saw Cam pacing in my driveway, sometimes going back to his car and then rushing back to the door. He finally rang the bell minutes later.
A mist of rain blew in when I opened the door with the most nonchalant look ever so as not to show my cards. “Standing in my driveway in the rain getting soaked through. Kind of cliché, don’t you think?”
He grinned, bowed his head, then wiped his soppy curls out of his face. “Can I come in?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay, uh, I’m going to take a page out of your book and blurt something out. Ready?”
“Can’t wait.”
“Britt and Roman are getting married, and she wanted to personally deliver the invitation last night by using the ruse of ‘There’s an emergency with Roman’ to get me to come home. When I asked why she was rushing to the altar, she said she was pregnant.”
My eyes bulged and I reached for him. “Oh my God. Come in. Come in.”
Cam took a step in but didn’t leave the entryway rug. “I don’t want to get water everywhere.”
“Let me get you a towel.” I rushed to and from the bathroom and then handed him the towel. “Are you okay? You were pacing out there. I thought you were having a fit or something.”
He rubbed the towel over his head. “I was. I was trying to get the courage to ring the doorbell. Not sure you’d want to speak to me after last night.”
“I definitely want to talk to you, but full disclosure, it was tempting to let you stand out there a little longer. I wanted to test your monsoon tolerance.”
“I swam here so I think it’s pretty strong.”
“Give me your clothes.”
“Uh, shouldn’t you buy me some tater tots first?”
I chuckled and pointed to the bathroom. “You can change in there. I wanna put your clothes in the dryer.”
“But if I give you all of my clothes, I won’t have any clothes on.”
“How astute. It’s only while your clothes are drying. I won’t paw at you, I promise. Besides, I want to hear about all that transpired last night.”
Cam sauntered off to the bathroom but shouted his response through the partially open door. “Not much transpired other than me having to almost dump her purse in the road to get her to leave.”
“I think there’s a lot to tell,” I said, peering into the refrigerator. “Hungry?”
“Starving.”
Instead of trying to pull some bizarre menu item together from the oddities in my fridge, I ordered delivery from the Thai place around the corner. My breath caught in my throat when Cam emerged from the bathroom in only a towel. He winked and handed me a ball of his wet clothes.
What the hell was I thinking? His clothes needed to dry ASAP, or I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on a word he was saying. He held the towel securely in his hand as he glanced around my house.
“Drink?” I asked.
“Whatever you have.”
“Always keep Tito’s on hand for these special occasions.”
“For special occasions like when your ex-fiancée invites you to the wedding of her and your brother.”
I made two generous pours of Tito’s and cut a lime. “Yes, it’s for exactly those kinds of occasions.” I finished the drinks and handed a glass to Cam, holding mine up so we could clink.
“I love your house. Who’s your decorator?” he asked with a wink. He wandered over to my bookshelves on the edge of the living room, picked up a book on color theory and flipped through the pages before putting it back.
My heart did a pirouette in my chest as I stared at him from my kitchen island. The last man that I had let in my house was Andrew. When our relationship ended, I went scorched earth and sold almost everything I had at a thrift furniture store. I decorated the place with everything that I wanted and had not let another man in since.
And now, Cameron Nash was here, wearing a towel, tracing his finger over the spines of my books. When he picked up an ornate box on the shelf, I tried to swallow the lump forming in my throat.
“Pretty box,” he said.
I joined him at the bookshelf and took a sip of my drink. “Open it.”
He glanced at me and then at the box before opening it. He pulled out the piece of paper inside. His brow furrowed. “Robert Fayet?”
I shrugged and pursed my lips. “My father.”
Waves of sympathy and sadness washed over his face. He put the piece of paper back in the box and set it back on the shelf. He grabbed his drink off the same shelf. “Have you ever tried to find him?”
I shook my head.
“Why not? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Thunder rumbled outside and the windows flexed from the wind picking up. I sat on my favorite part of the sofa where I could pull my legs up and rest my back against the arm. “I don’t know. I’ve thought about looking him up on social media a thousand times, but I can’t bring myself to do it.”
Cam sat down opposite me. “Not even one peek?”
“Nope. I mean, I’ve always wondered what my life would have been like if I had ended up with him and not my mother. But, I feel like it’s too late to reach out. He might think I’m some wacko like Buddy the Elf.”
“Were you planning on meeting him in a bright green costume and telling him you were from the North Pole?”
I threw my head back and laughed. “No. Definitely not.”
“Then, you should look him up.”
“Maybe someday.”
The food arrived and Cam insisted on paying the delivery person even though he was towel-clad. After I retrieved his clothes from the dryer and he got dressed, he set everything up at the dining room table while I fixed us another round of drinks.
“So, spill it. I want to know about last night since it was worth leaving me for.”
“It wasn’t, I assure you.”
I ate my pad priew wan and listened to him recap his encounter with Britt. Watching his expressions morph from anger to grief made all my frustration with him fall away. The thought of Roman having a child with Britt scared Cam more than anything because it meant Roman would be lost to him forever.
“I’m telling you, I don’t think she’s pregnant,” I said, getting up to get us some water.
Cam wiped his mouth. “Shay and Charisse said the same thing, but what am I supposed to do? If I try to tell Roman that, he won’t believe me.”
“He might,” I said, grabbing plates.
“I wish I had proof. Roman’s the scientist of the family. He always needs the facts before he makes a decision.”
“Which is why it’s still so strange that he made such a rash, life-altering decision with his heart,” I replied.
“Yeah,” Cam said. “It’s not like him.”
“When is the wedding?”
“In one month.”
I shook my head. “So fast? Can she really find a caterer?”
“Uh, that’s not my primary concern in all of this.”
“Right, sorry.” I took a long pull of my drink. “Unless … oh! Maybe she’s been planning a wedding in secret this entire time! She’s scared she’s losing him. That’s why we need to strike.”
Cam glanced up from his curry. “Oh no. Not another operation.”
“Oh yeah, baby.”
“And what’s this one called?”
“Operation Soaring Midnight Falcon.”
Cam’s mouth popped open and he leaned back in his chair, bringing his hands to his head. “Literally the best name ever.”
We both laughed, but then his expression shifted, and he pushed his plate away. “Mom wants all of us, including you, to go to their wedding.”
I pointed a chopstick at him. “But you don’t want to go.”
“Not at all. Not sure I can stomach it, but Mom says she’s tired of hiding. She’s even bringing a date since my dad will be there.”
I swear Cam growled a little when he mentioned his father.
“Oh really?” I said through my grin. “A date? That’s so great! I’m going to have to get more details from her about that.” We devoured the rest of our food in a contemplative silence before I broke it. “I’m sorry you had to lose your dad in all of this.”
“I lost my dad a long time ago when I didn’t want to follow in his footsteps.”
My heart wanted to wrap around his in that moment. I’m not sure what would be worse. Never knowing your father or knowing him and feeling like he didn’t love you.
“I think we should go to the wedding,” I said.
“I was afraid you’d say that.” He finished his drink and then got up to clear our plates.
“If we went together, it would make Britt’s blood boil.”
“And I would like to see that.”
I put away the leftovers. “Think about it. I bet she doesn’t think you have the guts to attend. I say we go and really put on a show. Plus, we’ll be supporting your mom.”
“I’ll think about,” Cam said. “Thanks for listening anyway, and I apologize again for running out on you like that last night.”
“It’s oka?—”
The wind howled, lightning flashed outside, and the lights flickered and blinked off.
“Shit,” Cam said. He reached for his phone and flipped on his flashlight.
“I’ll get some candles,” I said, using my phone to find matches in my junk drawer.
“I should probably get going anyway.”
“You’re going to leave me alone in the dark? Besides, you’ve been drinking and streetlights might be out.”
He protested, but I bribed him with ice cream, which would cool our palettes after the spicy Thai. I lit a ton of candles, and we leaned on my kitchen island eating Jeni’s ice cream out of the carton. We moved to the couch again and talked and laughed and drank more.
Soon, the storm had calmed, but it was still raining in sheets.
“All these candles I’ve received as wedding favors over the years are really coming in ha … ndy.” I paused when I looked at him sitting on my sofa.
He cocked his head. “What’s wrong?”
The candles light danced across his handsome face, and the clothes he was wearing were straight out of the dream I’d been having about him when I woke up in his arms in Denver.
“Kicklighter?”
“When we were in Denver, I had a sex dream about you too.” Even as the words left my mouth, I saw them hanging in the air and wished I could pull them back and shove them down my throat.
Cam straightened in his seat. “I’m sorry?”
“Nope. Nothing.”
“You had a sex dream about me?” He pumped his eyebrows several times. “So it was you that broke through the pillow barrier!”
“Probably.”
He turned to me and rested his head on his hand. “So, for the sake of science, what were we doing in this dream?”
I looked at him for a long beat. I realized why I said what I said. I wanted the dream to be real. I wanted to straddle his lap and throw my cropped sleep shirt to the floor with reckless abandon. Instead, I put up an invisible pillow barrier between us.
“I would love to show you, but I …” I rubbed my neck and took another sip of my drink. “I have this problem.”
“Just one? I have lots of problems. You’re doing better than me.”
“I hope the power comes back on soon. This place is going to become an inferno without the AC.”
Cam gently touched my arm. “You can tell me … if you want.”
I leaned back into the pillows and scooted closer to him. “Ever since Andrew, I can’t go all the way.”
“All the way? Like …”
“Exactly like that. I’ve dated nice men since Andrew and I broke up, but now, when things get physical, I get to this point where all this fear and doubt comes rushing into my mind. I kind of freak out and have to stop.”
I glanced at Cam, searching for his reaction and wondering if he was going to find some excuse to get the hell out of here.
But he didn’t.
He reached for my hand and squeezed. “I’m sorry.”
“I … I lost myself completely when I was with Andrew, and when I caught him in bed with another woman, I became painfully aware of the fact that sex meant nothing to him. I meant nothing. I guess I’m old-fashioned in the sense that sex means everything to me. My brain is hung up on the fear that the moment I have sex again, it will mean exactly zero to my partner, and then the flirt-a-thon ends, and it’s all awkward texts that dwindle into ‘I’m going to be busy for the rest of my life.’”
My stomach twisted into a knot when Cam didn’t say anything, but his soft expression never wavered.
“I know I’m weird. If you need to go, I understand. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something so heavy.” I tried to get up from the couch, but Cam didn’t release my hand.
“First of all, it’s adorable that you referred to sex as ‘going all the way.’ Second, you’re not weird,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Don’t freak out, but I kind of want to hold you.”
Relief and happiness washed over me like a gentle tide. I lowered myself back down to the couch and almost dissolved into Cam’s arms. He cocooned himself around me, and it felt like the most natural, safe place to be. I never wanted it to end.
“Being with Andrew traumatized you, and our bodies hold on to that trauma until we are healed enough to let go,” he said, squeezing me tighter. “It’s been a while for me too, to be honest. Sex, for me, requires a certain level of trust, and until now, I didn’t think I could trust another woman again.”
I tilted my head. “Until now?”
We parted, allowing enough distance between us though I could still feel his breath on my cheek. His gaze bounced between my eyes and my mouth. All he said was, “Yeah.”
I knew what he meant.
I decided not to press him and leaned my head back on his chest. “Just because I told you all of that doesn’t mean I’m trying to get you to kiss me. Ordering Thai was a strategic move.”
“Is that so? Wow, more strategery.”
I tilted my chin up toward him. “Is your mouth still on fire even after the ice cream?”
“Actually, yes.”
We laughed and he hugged me once more before releasing me. I got up this time, and he joined me to help clean up the ice cream bowls. The lights flickered on and we both sighed at the same time.
“I guess you could go now, if you want,” I said. “It’s not raining as hard.”
“Can I grab a glass of water?”
“Of course.” I filled up a glass and handed it to him.
“Do you want me to go?”
“No! I mean, I would love it if you stayed, but if you need to get home, I understand.”
“I don’t. Watch a movie?”
I filled my own glass of water. “Depends. What movies do you like?”
“Anything really except, like, Cocaine Bear . I can’t with that nonsense.”
I tipped my palm up in the air. “Everyone knows bears have a propensity for champagne.”
“Exactly. Although …” Cam rubbed his chin. “Prosecco Bear isn’t as edgy.”
“Yeah, that’s a tough sell,” I said, laughing over the rim of my glass.
We settled on The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare since, turns out, we both like Guy Ritchie films. Though the power was now up and running, I left the lights off and the candles burning.