Chapter 9
ADAM
The week drags on like molasses dripping through a pinhole. Ever since that kiss Monday morning, I haven’t been able to concentrate. Camille has remained pleasant and friendly. In fact, she mostly acts as if nothing has changed between us. As if that kiss hadn’t happened.
But we did kiss.
And things have changed.
I’ll never be able to forget about that kiss.
The way her mouth felt against mine, and the rush of heat that consumed me when she parted her lips, letting me in, will be forever etched in my memories.
One kiss isn’t nearly enough. I want more of her. Hell, I want all of her. But since then, she’s given me no indication she wants anything from me other than a renovated home.
Camille pretending we didn’t kiss is torture. It feels like she’s rejecting me before she’s even given me a chance. Maybe it’s my wounded pride.
Or maybe it’s because I’m competing with a dead man. That’s a competition that’s impossible to win.
I try to bury myself in my work. It typically takes my mind off any problems I have, but not this time.
I work for her. I can’t escape her even if I want to.
As long as I’m working on the chalet, she’s unavoidable.
How can I possibly put her out of mind when she’s right there every time I turn around?
Her soft lips, gentle touch, and sweet scent taunt me. She doesn’t mean to do it. It isn’t her fault, not in the slightest. This is her house, and she has every right to be involved in the decisions regarding the renovation.
What makes all this even worse, is I knew better. Never get involved with a client.
If I had been a smart man—which clearly, I am not—I never would have kissed her. At least then, I wouldn’t know what I’m missing.
But now I know, and I need more.
“Hey, Adam.” Camille’s voice calls from the kitchen entryway.
After Ricky fixed the furnace, my crew and I spent the past two days setting up a temporary kitchen for her in the neighboring dining room.
Today we’re demolishing the kitchen, and tomorrow we’ll tear down the wall that separates the two spaces.
I’m dressed in an old pair of jeans, a stained t-shirt, and a flannel filled with holes from years of construction work.
I’m already covered in dirt and sweating from manual labor.
I don’t look my best, but when Camille’s eyes land on me, they darken.
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and I could’ve sworn she sucked in a breath.
She looks at me like I’m the best thing she’s seen all week.
Maybe she does want more from me than just a renovation.
Dammit. It doesn’t help my problem one bit when she looks at me like she wants a repeat of that kiss just as much as I do. I swallow hard and push those thoughts out of my mind. She may desire me too, but she isn’t ready for what I have to offer.
Not yet, at least.
“Whatcha need?” I ask.
She shifts her eyes from me and to the plans she’s holding in her hand. “Is it too late to change the faucets in the spare bathrooms? I’ve decided I prefer the copper faucets after all. Have you ordered those yet?”
“I haven’t.” I clear my throat. “I was waiting until you made the decision about the kitchen faucets first. I’ll place that order together.”
“Oh, good.” She shifts on her feet, nibbling at her bottom lip as she stares at the plans.
My lips tugs up from seeing she’s nervous around me.
This is the most she’s given me all week.
I shouldn’t take pleasure in knowing she struggles with being around me.
But I do. It makes me feel a little bit better knowing she wants me even if she doesn’t act on it.
“You sure you don’t want the antique bronze?” She’d been adamant about maintaining as much of the original design of the house as possible, and the faucets were one of those features.
“I’m sure. I like the farmhouse feel of the copper so much better. I’d like it in the kitchen as well. I made note of the ones I like.”
“Okay, I’ll make that change.” I pull a small notepad I keep in my back pocket out and add her changes. When I look up, Camille is staring at me. My chest tightens and my mouth dries. “Anything else?”
She shakes her head, but she doesn’t make a move to leave.
She’s done this a few times this week. Acts like there’s something she wants to say, but then she stands there, silent.
This has to be hard for her, but she’s sending me all sorts of mixed messages.
I sense she wants me at times like this, but she never says anything and then reverts back to acting like nothing happened.
Desperate to dissipate the tension between us, I ask, “Have you made any decisions about the master bathroom yet?”
She sighs, looking visibly relieved that I take the attention off us. “No. I really have no idea which direction I want to go with it. I have lots of ideas I love, but none of them go together. Can I give you the notes I have? Maybe you can offer some suggestions?”
“Sure, I’d love to.”
“Great.” Her face lights up, and she gives me a big smile. “I’ll get those together for you today.”
Jesus, what I wouldn’t do to see that smile more often. If we can move past the awkwardness of that kiss, maybe she’ll smile more. All I have to do is figure out how to set aside my desire for her and put myself back in contractor mode.
If only that was as easy as it sounds.
Demolition is my favorite part of a home renovation. There’s something to be said about freely destroying something with purpose. Sure, it’s labor intensive and always leaves my body aching, but it’s fast and invigorating.
We have a clean slate, and we’re ready to turn this kitchen design into reality.
I haven’t seen Camille since our awkward exchange this morning. She’s been eating lunch with the crew—she says she likes getting to know those who are making her home beautiful—but today she had some errands to run and would be eating lunch in town.
In some respects, I’m more relaxed when she’s not there, and in others it’s worse. Seeing her and knowing I can’t touch her, kiss her, hold her is its own form of torture. But her absence makes it impossible for me to think about anything other than her.
How did I get so wrapped up in this woman so fast?
It’s been almost two months since I first ran into Camille outside Sweet Cakes and Coffee, but it feels like I’ve known her much longer.
It’s strange how that happens with some people.
There are folks in town that I’ve known for years, but I feel like I hardly know them.
And then there’s Camille, a woman I don’t know that much about, yet I feel like we’ve known each other all of our lives.
We connect. And that connection is what makes her withdrawal so much harder to process.
“Hey, man,” Ricky calls from behind me. “Ready for me to start rewiring this place?”
“Yep, the kitchen is all yours.” I dust my hands off on my jeans, about ready to call it a day. “The cabinets arrive on Tuesday. Any chance you can be done by then?”
He looks around the now empty space with his hands on his hips. “Maybe. Depends on what I find once I dig in. I’ll know more tomorrow. I imagine it won’t take too long since you gutted this place. Makes it easier to trace the wiring.”
“Good. If it goes fast, we’ll be ahead of schedule.” I put the last of my tools away and reach for my coat. “You and Rachel coming out tonight?”
“Yep, Rachel’s been looking forward to it all week. We missed the last two tastings, and she’s more than ready to get out of the house.”
“Good. I’ve missed hanging out with you guys.”
“Oh, wow.” Camille’s voice draws my attention away from Ricky. “I’m gone for three hours, and look at this place. The space looks so huge with everything gone.”
“Just wait until we take down this wall tomorrow and open it up to the dining room. This is a large space.”
Her smile grows. “I can’t wait.”
Ricky looks between us with a knowing gaze. I’ve done my best to hide my attraction to Camille from him, but he knows me too well.
He turns his attention to Camille and says, “We go to The Wine Room almost every Thursday for their tasting night. You should come out with us tonight and celebrate the reno kickoff. It’ll give you a chance to meet some of our other friends.”
She shakes her head. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to crash your night.”
“Nonsense. Rachel will be there, and she’d love to have another woman to talk to since it's usually just a bunch of us guys.”
She shifts her gaze nervously between Ricky and me. “If you’re sure. I haven’t been out since moving. It’d be nice to go somewhere for a change. What time should I be there?”
Ricky turns to me with a devilish grin and pats my shoulder. “Adam can pick you up. Say around seven?”
“Oh, that’s not necessary. I’d hate for him to go out of his way for me. Just give me the address, and I can find it.”
Ricky’s still smiling as he answers Camille. “It’s not out of his way at all. He has to drive past your place to get there anyway. This way you won’t get lost. It's kinda hard to find if you’ve never been there before.”
“It’s not in town?” she asks.
“Nope. It's about four miles west of your place. Off a windy road that’s easy to miss.”
Camille looks at me with a worried look on her face. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I'm sure I can find it.”
I run my fingers through my hair and smile. “It’s no problem. Your house really is on the way for me.”
Her eyes light up, and her smile sends a jolt straight through me. I’m glad Ricky isn’t looking at me right now, or I’d never hear the end of this. When she looks at me like this, I can’t hide how it makes me feel.
“Well, in that case, I’ll see you at seven.” She smiles, and her final words are music to my ears.