Chapter 24
Juli
My four nights at Whispering Tide are up. I’m not ready to go home. Not even a little. Nor is Cameron ready for me to leave. He’s said it a couple of times now—“Don’t leave.” While I’m not the girl who does what her boyfriend wants for everything, I’m listening now. Because I’m not ready to leave.
The major problem with this scenario is that I barely have any clothes.
I don’t want to keep wearing the same thing repeatedly, but I have no desire to go shopping for new stuff either, especially because I’m not staying permanently.
Maybe a few new outfits, but not an entire wardrobe.
Not when Cameron hasn’t seen a quarter of my stylish clothes.
His place isn’t exactly what I was expecting, but it’s so him. The first floor comprises the living room, a tiny bathroom with a toilet and sink, and an eat-in kitchen. A larger bathroom and his bedroom, complete with a balcony overlooking the beach, round out the second floor.
Everything is brand-new and hardly used. Like his car. His bedroom is the only room in the house I’d consider “lived-in.” The appliances aren’t top of the line, but they’re decent brands. Same with the furniture.
The townhouse has hardwood floors throughout and butcher-block counters in the kitchen. The color pattern is neutral, with most of the walls painted beige. Again, except for his bedroom, which is the color of the ocean outside the windows. So fitting for him.
Currently, Cameron and I are sitting on the couch in his living room, my feet in his hands. The TV’s playing a show in the background. A show I haven’t seen before, but the glimpses I’ve caught make it seem like it might be something I’d watch.
“We should go grocery shopping tomorrow, stock up on some food to cook, so we don’t have to leave the premises the rest of the weekend,” he suggests.
“But we can go for walks, right?”
“Um, okay. That would break the whole ‘not leaving the premises’ pact, but I guess I’ll allow it.”
“You’re the best. On Monday, I’ll make it up to you.”
His hand stills on the sole of my foot. “Why do I have to wait until Monday?”
“‘Cause that’s when some things I ordered are being delivered.” I got a little carried away at an online lingerie store. Underwear and bras are essentials, but no way I needed over three hundred dollars’ worth of undergarments. I sense he’ll appreciate them.
“Will there be a runway show?” His eyes light up with hope.
“That can be arranged. Only if it ends with sex on your balcony.”
“Only a fool would turn that down. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m no fool.”
“I had noticed. You most certainly are not.”
My life has so much more color with Cameron in it. I love our rapport with each other, how it’s easy. Though I suppose things might change now that we’re “living” together for the time being.
My parents were a little shocked to hear I’m extending my stay. They always liked Cameron, so it’s nothing personal to him. I don’t think they realized it was this serious between us.
Join the club.
Though it’s fast, it doesn’t feel weird, awkward, or rushed. Most likely because it’s Cameron. I can’t imagine developing feelings like this for someone else so quickly. I’ve been attracted to Cameron for many years. I’m glad to know my teenage self didn’t steer me wrong in choosing him.
“Do you work weekends?”
His question brings me back to the present. He picks up my other foot, not wanting to neglect it.
“Sometimes. Depends on the week and what projects I’m working on. Do you?”
“Most weekends, but only for a couple of hours each day. It gives me the flexibility to take a random weekday off. Not that I ever have anything I need a day off for.” His chuckle animates the room, louder than the TV.
“We’ll find our routine, what works and what doesn’t.”
“You seem sure of that.”
“Are you more skeptical?”
His face gives nothing away, and his head bounces from side to side, contemplating what to say. “I’m worried you’ll think I spend too much time at Whispering Tide. Even when I’m not working.”
“I’m not here to judge. Just be with you. Don’t alter your schedule for me. I’ll find my way.” While it’s not the complete truth, if he needs to work, he needs to work. I don’t want him changing what he does for me only to come to resent it later.
Resent me.
On the flip side, being here, I’ve made a lot of changes to my life, things I want him to acknowledge. Not for “credit,” but more out of respect for our relationship.
Respect for me.
“Thanks for staying. I didn’t have it in me to say goodbye again so soon. I’m sorry if that makes me a selfish bastard.”
It’s like he read my inner thoughts.
“I wasn’t ready to leave. Thanks for letting me crash here, be in your space, use a lot of your towels.”
“Mi casa es su casa. Remind me to show you where the laundry room is. I definitely don’t have enough towels to support your habit.”
“I ordered a bunch of new ones. Sorry, not sorry?” I kinda went a little overboard with the towels, too. I saw what he had in his closet, and his old ones needed replacing. So I replaced a few. “They’ll be here Monday. Mind if I rearrange the linen closet a bit?”
“Have at whatever you want, cutie.”
Damn. The nickname from Cameron’s lips gets me every time. I can’t help the smile spreading on my face.
“Much appreciated. It’ll give me something else to do while you’re working.”
“Do you like to organize?”
“Um, no? Not really. When the mood strikes.” A moan slips out from the gentle pressure on my feet. “When do they have yoga at the spa? I want to try another class.”
“Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Occasionally on Sundays. Not sure if this Sunday is an on week. I can check later.”
“What’s the worst part of your job?”
Cameron thinks for a minute. He previously mentioned his favorite was “all of it,” but there must be something he doesn’t like.
“Resort guests who think they’re privileged to something because they can afford it. It’s always those who are rude and want everything handed to them for free, even though they have more money than they know what to do with.”
“Rich snobs. I know them.” Dealt with them all my life.
“Uber-wealthy snobs. Like they flew to the islands on their private jet. They have so much money and can’t understand the simple act of being kind. A ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ go a long way.”
“Same. I’ve had authors email me with no tact whatsoever.
Ask what I’ll do for them for free. Then there’s the client who rested on her laurels.
Her books sucked, by the way, but she sold a gazillion of them.
Don’t ask me how. I landed on her radar at one point, and I thought I had hit the lottery.
” I pause, removing my feet from Cameron’s hands and relaxing back against the couch.
“It took us three weeks and about fifteen changes to finally end on a design. She said she loved it. Imagine my surprise when within two months, the cover I slaved over was changed again. The work was mediocre at best. Needless to say, haven’t worked with her since. ”
“Hope you charged her for all the changes.”
“You better believe I did. More than my usual clients by the end. And she didn’t bat an eye. I used to keep tabs on her, but then I realized it was doing more harm to me, so I stopped.”
“I like that about you.”
“What?”
“You’re true to yourself.”
“It’s come with time. I wasn’t always this way.” Which is the truth.
When I first started out, I played a mean version of the comparison game.
I convinced myself my work wasn’t good enough to sell books.
Then I found an author who made me realize I was wrong.
She had me design a three-book series, and when it took off, she lauded the quality of my work, plastered my name all over her social media, and some of her friends’ as well.
Word-of-mouth is a powerful tool for a small business like mine.
And when a more well-known author raves about you, well, it helps you recognize your worth.
“Do you have a preference for dinner?” Cameron asks to change the subject.
“Want to do breakfast for dinner?”
He scrunches his nose, indicating he doesn’t. “I was thinking more like sushi.”
I wave my hands down my body, clad only in an old T-shirt of Cameron’s. “I’m not getting dressed again. And I need to do laundry if we’re going to the grocery store tomorrow. We can do that tomorrow night?”
“There’s a fantastic place that delivers.
It’s super close, and they’re speedy. We can throw in a load of laundry while we wait.
” His eyes roam down and back up, his tongue peeking out as his eyes reach my chest. “This is a good look for you. I think you should dress like this whenever we’re staying home, even if you have clean clothes.
” He trails his finger up the inside of my calf and inner thigh, stopping where the hem of the shirt falls.
“Easy access for you.”
He slowly lifts his eyes to mine. “Yes, that. But also, you look super sexy in this T-shirt. Sexy enough to eat.”
I sit up, my fingers reaching to his chin. “The perfect outfit to scruff me up.”
His eyes widen. “I’d prefer you naked, but . . . hmm. This could work too. This could work very well. Should we forget dinner at the moment and start with dessert?”
“I love when you read my mind, Came.”
“I love you being mine, Jude.”
I barely have time to process his claim before I’m in the air, in his arms, and he’s carrying me to the bedroom.
I’m going to be sore for days. Not only where he’s going to rough up my skin. Knowing Cameron, he won’t stop with “dessert.”
Two weeks of “living” with Cameron have been interesting and eye-opening. In the best way.
He works a lot. Maybe “works” isn’t the correct term.
He spends a lot of time at the resort. Whether or not he’s working, he’s there.
I’ve learned he used to eat almost all of his meals there, but I’m slowly breaking that habit.
I make him help in the kitchen for at least one meal per day. The grumbling is lessening.