Chapter 10
ten
saúl
Istepped into the house about an hour later. It had been only fair that I had some quality time with the horses after I’d weirded them out the way I had.
The sky had only stars by the time I pulled up to the side of the house where the other truck was parked.
The sight of it had me breathing out in relief.
Cam had mentioned borrowing the truck to leave.
There was still the chance that he would’ve stubbornly gone on foot, but someone would’ve seen him and rung the alarm.
He didn’t look like the type to grab something without express permission either.
Even with that feeble guarantee, I still could’ve keeled over with relief when I walked in and the first thing that hit me was the warm smell of something cooking.
I almost forgot to leave my shit by the entrance before I was heading toward the source of it.
I didn’t even care about my stomach grumbling.
I just needed to see for myself that I hadn’t completely ruined shit once again.
Cam was there, on the flesh, stirring something that smelled hot as fuck inside the biggest pot I owned.
Sure, there was a tremor to his body that meant he was on edge and probably very aware that I was standing there, but he was here, so that meant there was some hope that I hadn’t just ruined the hopes of the sanctuary having a good vet for the big animals once and for all.
“Hey.” I cleared my throat. “That smells good.”
“I stress cook chili when I’m anxious,” he rushed the words out. “Comfort food.“
Okay.
Okay, stilted sentences, but I could work with it.
“It smells great.”
It really did. Granted, all food smelled great after a day out of manual labor, but this smelled incredibly good. Hearty and hot and fragrant with however many veggies he’d added to it. I didn’t go around giving empty compliments.
Not anymore.
“I’m a good cook.”
“I know.” He’d taken it up to cook most days to the point the freezer was now mostly all his, and he complained when I tried to take over the kitchen. “Will you come to Saddle Up with me?”
That wasn’t the first thing I’d meant to ask him.
It got Cam’s attention, though, his focus shifting enough he dropped the wooden spoon on the stovetop and whipped around until he was facing me.
Maybe getting his attention had been a bad idea. I could’ve done without the red-rimmed eyes. I’d known they were there, and how it had felt to have the image etched into my head all evening, but the physical reminder was a sucker punch to the gut all the same.
“The cowboy convention?”
I swallowed. “You know it?”
“Some of the techs were talking about it.” He shook his head. “Um. Why would I go with you?”
“We set up a stand there every year and network. It means we hear it first if someone needs to offload a horse or if they know of an animal that needs rescuing.” I fidgeted with the leather wristband in my left hand.
“Half of the stand is about donations, and one of the vets is there to talk about the animals and stuff. The other half, I sell leather gear, and it’s extra money for the sanctuary. ”
Cam blinked. “Leather gear.”
“No one’s going to be openly kinky, and I’m not displaying nine o’ tails, but a bunch of people are, and they place orders beforehand.”
And now, Cam was the only worker in the sanctuary who knew about it.
Everyone knew I crafted stuff with leather and set up half of our stand with those, of course.
Sofía just pretended not to see when I handed over black, plain boxes to some of the people who came by our stand, and not a word was shared about it.
I had half the mind that she thought I was involved in some trafficking scheme, but she was too loyal to say anything or let the rumor mill get to me.
Cam scratched at his elbow. “I’m not good at public speaking.”
“You are when you’re talking about the animals, and that’s all you’d have to do.”
Right away, he was protesting the claim. “I am when I’m talking about animals to the people who work with me and need to know about them. It’s different.”
“The people who’ll walk by our stand need to know about them, too.”
Cam narrowed his eyes. To be fair, I didn’t know what was getting into me, why I was leaning into the stubborn streak that wasn’t only Cam’s to own.
“Why do you want me there?”
“I was always planning to ask you.” It felt important that he knew, that he didn’t think this was born out of pity or an attempt to make things better, even though the timing of it had already muddled that chance.
“Sofía can’t make the trip this year, and we always get more donations when there’s a vet there. ”
“So. You and me. In… a week.”
His eyes widened at that realization. I frowned. Why was that the shocking matter?
“That a problem?”
Fuck.
What if he was only here because there were no flights heading off to New York? Or there were, but they were too expensive, so he’d bought one that left two weeks from now.
No.
I could not afford to think about the worst-case scenario.
“N-no, I—” Cam took a sharp intake of breath before he shook whatever thoughts were taking hold of his brain. “Where are you on the spectrum?”
Huh?
I rested back in the chair closest to me. Not the most comfortable one, mind you, but I had never been interested in renovating the house other than the sun room and the office I used as my den to craft leather pieces as I saw fit.
“Like a… 4.5 in the Kinsey scale?”
That sounded about right, and answering was better than wondering why he had chosen today of all days to ask about my preferences.
Cam looked like he would’ve spat water if he’d been drinking. “I was asking about kink.”
“Oh.” That… I’d never been asked about it that way, but I supposed it made more sense, what with the happenings before, and my telling him about the leather. I still leaned forward, hands on the edge of the table. “You want to know?”
Was it going to make it better, or worse?
Did I have a way of knowing? Cam still looked tense, still had a faint tremor to his body, but I couldn’t tell where it came from.
Was it his usual anxiety, or was it something else?
Had something else happened while I was gone that had him like this, or was he really back to square one around me, even if I dreaded the thought?
“I mean, you know, right? About me. Not that it means anything, but it feels fair?”
I hummed. All my experience with terrified horses should be kicking in right about now, but I was as clueless as to how to behave around him as I’ve always been. “Agree to Saddle Up, and I’ll tell you.”
Cam’s nostrils flared. I didn’t think he was angry, just bursting with the need to brat out.
Fuck.
Now I was definitely going to be reading kinky meanings behind his every action, just the thing I’d fought against ever since that phone call with Da.
“Fine,” he gritted out.
I grinned, then made sure I enunciated everything clearly. “At my core, I’m a Daddy Dom. A Leatherman, obviously. And a Sadist when I’ve built up the trust with someone.”
When Cam squeaked in response, I wasn’t sure it was because of fear, shock, or simply the fact that he hadn’t expected an answer. The flush spreading up his cheeks hinted that it wasn’t the former, and the shock might not be associated with anything negative.
“Cool.”
“Cool?” I cocked my head.
Was it mean that I teased?
“That’s called being a Brat Dom, and it’s not nice, just so you know.”
“Uh-huh.”
Cam turned around before I could come up with a better retort, getting on his tiptoes to open the drawers above his head and grab two bowls.
I would’ve offered to help, but he was the one accusing people of being brats. He could ask for help if he wanted to throw around accusations like that.
“I made it extra spicy, so you’re gonna have to deal with it.”
The corners of my lips twitched up. “Whatever shall I do?”
It turned out, the chili was amazing. I had to check if Saddle Up was still running a cooking contest. This tasted like a winner, with the perfect balance between heartiness and spice.
Maybe if he got a trophy back from it, he’d get that step closer to forgiving me for completely fucking up shit between us.