Chapter 42
Chapter forty-two
Kate
I take a deep breath before peeling my shirt over my head, suddenly more aware of the fact that I’m undressing in front of Cam Wells than I have been any other time we’ve…whatever you would call what we do. Maybe it’s the setting. Maybe it’s the quiet.
My shorts come off next, leaving me in my navy one-piece swimsuit—simple, nothing special. At least it felt that way when I bought it two summers ago. Right now I feel strangely exposed, even though I’m covered.
Cam’s eyes soak me in. Slow, appreciative, eyes dragging over me like he’s memorizing every inch I’ve allowed him to see. When he pulls his shirt off, my brain empties like a shaken Etch-A-Sketch.
His chest is tan and broad, muscles defined just enough to make every breath I take feel unsteady. When the breeze hits, he looks wild and soft all at once—dangerously attractive in that dependable, hot baseball daddy way that always makes my pulse jump.
He tosses his shirt onto the blanket and grins at me. “Ready?”
No. Not at all. But I nod anyway.
We step into the water together, and the shock of cold punches a squeal out of me before I can swallow it. “Oh my—Cam! It’s freezing!”
He laughs, full-bodied and bright, then dips down into the water in one smooth motion.
When he comes back up, the water sheets off him—over his shoulders, down his pecs, catching the sunlight and dripping in slow trails over the defined lines of his stomach.
He runs his hand through his hair, then down his face. He looks like a freaking wet dream.
My entire bloodstream detonates.
“Come here, Katie,” he says, voice low and teasing. “I’ll keep you warm.”
I swear my knees wobble. Heat blooms up my neck, completely at odds with the chilly water.
Still, I wade toward him, each step sending ripples across the surface. By the time I’m close enough for him to reach out, my breath is already unsteady.
His hands find my waist first, big and warm.
The world narrows to the feel of his fingers splayed against my skin, the quiet thunder of the waterfall behind us, the soft shift of water as he pulls me closer.
“Hi,” I whisper, because my brain refuses to come up with any other words.
He studies me and something in that look pushes every guarded instinct I have right to the edge. I’m beginning to wonder if this is what safety feels like. Because right now, it feels like he sees everything I pretend not to need.
“Hi,” he parrots, his voice deeper now, threading through me.
For a long moment, we just breathe, inches apart, the tension stretching out until it’s almost physical—something thick enough to feel on my skin.
Then he slides his hands lower, fingers gripping the backs of my thighs.
In one smooth, effortless motion, he lifts me.
A shocked breath escapes me as my legs wrap around his waist on instinct. The movement presses every inch of me against every inch of him, and the second my hips settle, I feel it.
He’s hard. Very hard.
My lips part around a quiet gasp, and his mouth curves into the kind of slow, wicked smile that makes my pulse jump straight into dangerous territory.
“Yeah,” he says softly, water moving in small waves around us as he holds me there. “I was hoping you’d feel that.”
My heart thuds so loudly I’m half afraid he can hear it. “Cam, we’re supposed to be swimming.”
He leans in, his mouth brushing the corner of mine without quite kissing me. “You have no idea what it’s doing to me seeing you in this swimsuit.”
My fingers curl against his shoulders. “It’s just a swimsuit, it’s not even that revealing.”
“On you, it’s not just a swimsuit,” he says, tone shifting. “On you, I can imagine every inch of your skin underneath it.”
The words sizzle through me, hot enough to wipe out any lingering cold from the water. My breath stutters, and I instinctively press closer, which only makes him hiss quietly in response. His forehead drops to mine, eyes locked like he’s daring me to look away.
Everything about the moment—the cool water around us, the heat between us, the honesty in his touch—builds into something so much bigger. Something that feels like it’s been waiting for the right moment to come undone.
Because with him, I feel peace. I trust him, I can be myself with him. And it’s becoming harder to say that I don’t want us to go back to what we were before all this.
His hands tighten on me, fingers flexing against my thighs as the water swirls around us. I can feel every steady breath he takes, every small shift of his body as he holds me, every inch of the hard length pressed against the inside of my thigh.
It’s intoxicating.
Too much and not enough at the same time.
“Cam, is it crazy that sometimes I feel like I can’t get close enough to you?” My voice barely makes it past the sound of the falls. It comes out breathless, needy, and embarrassingly honest.
He lifts my chin with his thumb, eyes dropping to my mouth. “No, that’s how I feel I’m with you.”
Something in the way he says it steals the strength from my bones. There’s heat in it, sure, but there’s something else too—something that sees me in a way I’m not used to being seen.
His nose brushes mine. The tiniest touch. A soft, deliberate tease. “Tell me what’s going on in that head,” he says, breath warm in the cool night air. “Because you’re looking at me like you’re trying really hard not to do something.”
My fingers slide into his damp hair before I can think better of it. His lashes lower, like the touch hits deeper than I meant it to.
“I’m not used to feeling this,” I say quietly.
His breath warms my cheek. “Feeling what?”
I swallow, the words catching. “Wanting you this much.”
His hands tighten on me—just enough to steady, not enough to cage. His voice drops, low and sure.
“Katie,” he says, eyes locked on mine, “I’ve wanted you in every damn way a man can want a woman since that first night.”
Heat floods through me, sharp and dizzying. He drags his hand up my spine and when he reaches the strap of my swimsuit, his thumb slips beneath it, brushing the warm skin there.
A tremor runs straight through me, and his mouth curves like he feels every bit of it.
Then he leans in, lips just brushing mine. “Katie.” His voice drops. “Look at me.”
I look in his eyes and he holds my gaze like it’s something breakable, like he’s checking for permission in every breath I take.
“Every part of you—” He kisses my forehead.
“Your brain, this heart.” His hand slides to the middle of my chest. “Your soul—you have no idea how you change a room or how you’re raising the most genuine, sweetest child I’ve ever known.
You are so beautiful and strong, and I’m the luckiest man alive just to be part of your world. ”
My eyes sting as a tear escapes down my cheek. He kisses it away. “Cam…” I shake my head. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“It’s all true, Katie. Cross my heart.” His finger marks an X above my heart.
“That’s my heart.”
“Yeah, but I want it to be mine.”
He dips his head and softly kisses the hollow of my throat. The contrast makes me gasp, and his lips curve against my skin like he heard the exact sound he was waiting for.
Cam’s hand shifts at my waist, guiding me sideways instead of closer. “Come here,” he says quietly, nodding toward the rock wall that leads behind the falls.
“What—”
“Trust me.”
We move carefully, water pushing around our legs as he leads me along the edge.
The roar of the falls grows louder, then strangely muffled all at once as we step into the shallow pocket behind it.
The curtain of water spills in front of us, turning the rest of the world into blurred motion and sound.
It’s cooler here. Quieter and private.
Cam braces one hand against the rock behind me.
Water beads along his shoulders, drips from his hair.
He looks at me for a long second, like he’s deciding something.
He exhales through his nose, a small, almost nervous sound I’ve never heard from him before.
His thumb brushes my hip, once. Then he stills.
“I wasn’t planning to say this today,” he says.
My stomach flips.
“I keep thinking I’ll wait for a better moment,” he continues. “When things aren’t messy. When you’re not dealing with everything that you are.” His jaw tightens slightly. “But every time I try to hold it back, it gets louder.”
I search his face. “Cam…”
“I love you, Katie.”
The words are honest and vulnerable.
“I didn’t mean to fall for you,” he adds, almost ruefully. “It just happened.” His eyes don’t leave mine. “I’m not asking you to say it back. I just need you to know.”
My chest feels tight, but not panicked. Overwhelmed in the best way.
I swallow. “You’re sure?”
He nods once. “Yeah. I am.”
The water continues to rush before us. He doesn’t move closer or try to fill the silence with words. Instead, he gently runs his hands through my wet hair.
I step into him, closing the space between us. My forehead rests against his chest, right over his heart. It’s beating hard. His arm comes around me, holding me like he understands exactly how fragile this moment is.
I don’t answer him right away. I stay where I am, listening to the water, to his breathing, to the way the world seems to narrow down to just this small space behind the falls. The words he said are still there, settled between us.
When I finally move, it’s not because I’m swept up or carried away. It’s because I want to be closer.
“Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve you.”
His eyes turn soft. “Funny, because I feel the same way.”
I toy with the chain around his neck. “Cam?”
“Yeah?”
“If I were to…if I were ready,” I look up into his eyes, “would you be strong enough to catch me if I fall?”
His eyes turn glassy. “I’ll be so fucking strong for you, Katie.”
I nod and lay my head against his chest. He loves me. I think I’ve felt it for a while now, but to hear those words from him—so soft and sweet and vulnerable—kicks down what’s left of my walls.