Chapter 23
EMILY
When I stepped off my front porch, Cam was already standing by his truck, one hand on the open passenger door, his gaze tracking me across the yard.
My heart thudded against my ribs, hard enough that I had to force air into my lungs. One breath. Then another.
I’d been doing a fair bit of overthinking since that kiss and none of it was good.
Straight after it happened I was floating on the euphoria of it, but my excitement washed away with the flour and cocoa powder.
Because kissing led, inevitably, to other things.
Other things I couldn’t do, because they involved nakedness and scars and revelations I was not ready for. Fuck.
But now, seeing him waiting for me, the fear and doubt faded a little.
The morning sun caught in his light brown hair, turning it almost golden, and there was no denying the heat that pooled in my belly. Christ, the man was something else.
He was wearing jeans and a Knights t-shirt that stretched across his shoulders in a way that should be illegal, and there was a slight upturn to his mouth. Not quite a smile, but close.
“Morning.” His voice was lower than usual, a little rough around the edges.
“Morning.” I tried to sound normal, like I hadn’t spent the past two days replaying that kiss in my head. “Ready for some baseball?”
“Always.” But he didn’t step back to let me climb in. Instead, he stayed right where he was, blocking the door, his green eyes searching my face. “The girls had a last minute sleepover at my sister’s last night. We’re meeting them at the stadium.”
“Oh.” My pulse kicked up another notch. That meant we were alone. Actually alone, without two little chaperones in the backseat. “That’s... nice.”
“Yeah.” He moved closer, just a half step, his gaze locked on mine. “I’ve been thinking about something.”
“What’s that?”
“Kissing you again.”
“Oh.”
He cupped my face, warm and steady, and leaned in.
His lips brushed against mine, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring it. Taking his time. My eyes fluttered closed and I melted into him, one hand sliding up to curl around the back of his neck.
This was different from the cake fight kiss. That one had been surprising, spontaneous, caught up in the moment. This one was intentional. A choice we were both making in the clear light of day.
And God, it felt good to choose this.
My fingers tangled in his hair. The kiss deepened, turned hungry.
His free hand found my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us.
A sound escaped me, something between a sigh and a moan, and he smiled against my mouth before kissing me harder.
His tongue tangled with mine, hot and insistent. My knees actually went weak.
Then his hand shifted.
It slid from my waist and around, his fingers brushing against the hem of my shirt, and everything in me went cold.
The heat vanished, replaced by the memory of jagged skin and disgusted stares. If his hand went any higher, if he slipped under the fabric, he would feel the truth. The map of everything that was wrong with me.
I broke the kiss and stepped back, my heart hammering for all the wrong reasons now.
Cam’s hands dropped immediately, concern flickering across his face. “Hey. You okay?”
“Yeah, sorry.” I forced a laugh that came out only slightly strained. “I think I just got a little lightheaded. Forgot to eat breakfast.”
It was a flimsy excuse and we both knew it. But Cam, bless him, didn’t push. He just watched me for a moment, something careful in his expression, before nodding slowly.
“We can grab something at the stadium.” His voice was easy, no pressure. “They do a decent breakfast burrito.”
“That sounds perfect.” I exhaled, grateful for the out he was giving me. Grateful that he wasn’t demanding explanations I wasn’t ready to give.
He gestured to the passenger seat. “In you get.”
I climbed in, watching as he rounded the front of the truck. My hands were still trembling slightly, so I pressed them flat against my thighs and focused on breathing. In and out. Nice and slow. This was fine. Everything was fine.
He slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, and for a moment we just sat there, the truck idling in the driveway. His gaze burned into the side of my face, but I kept my eyes fixed on the windshield.
“Emily.”
I forced myself to turn, bracing myself for questions I didn’t want to answer.
But he just reached over and took my hand, bringing it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my palm before threading his fingers through mine. Simple. Steady. No demands, no expectations. Just connection.
“We’re good,” he said quietly. “Whatever pace you need, we go at that pace. Okay?”
I had to swallow around the lump in my throat before I could answer. “Okay.”
He squeezed my hand once, then released it to put the truck in gear. “Actually, before we go, I should probably warn you about something.”
The shift in topic was so welcome I could have kissed him again. Well, maybe not right this second, but later. Definitely later.
“What’s that?”
“I got a text from my dad this morning.” He pulled out of the driveway, his jaw working slightly. “My mom’s feeling up to going to the game today.”
“That’s great! I’m glad she’s recovering well.”
“Yeah.” He hesitated before continuing. “Thing is, when my parents go somewhere, it tends to become a family event.”
I blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean my brother Travis and his family are coming. And my sister Erica with her husband and kid. So it’s not just going to be us and the girls today. It’s going to be the whole Rockford circus.”
Oh.
Oh.
My stomach, which had been doing pleasant flips, now twisted into something resembling a pretzel.
“Your whole family.” I tried to keep my voice even. “As in, everyone.”
“Pretty much. I’m sorry. I should have warned you earlier, but I only found out about an hour ago. If you want to bail, I completely understand.”
Did I want to bail? My brain was screaming various conflicting messages. Meeting his entire family felt like a very big deal. A “we’re actually doing something here” kind of deal. But also, I’d already said yes to the game, and backing out now would be weird, right? “It’s fine. I want to go.”
“You sure?” He was watching the road now, a slight frown between his brows. “Because if it’s too much, I get it. We just kissed and now I’m dragging you to a family event. That’s a lot.”
“It is a lot,” I admitted, because there was no point pretending otherwise. “But only a hurricane could stop me from watching today’s game, so we’re going.”
His shoulders relaxed and that almost-smile returned. “It could be worse than a hurricane.”
“I’ll handle it,” I replied, with way more confidence than I felt.