Chapter 12 Ellie
Ellie
Ipress my hand against Camden’s chest and let out a surprised noise.
It sounds a lot like a moan because one, Camden is a really, really good kisser.
His lips are soft and firm. His tongue teases gently against the seam of my mouth, coaxing it open. I hum at the wetness, how warm and inviting he is.
And two, because I can’t get over just how incredible his body feels against me.
Camden kisses with his whole body. It’s not just his mouth that’s making me dizzy and giddy. It’s the way he cups my face with his massive hand, so gentle and firm all at once.
With his other hand, he holds my waist, pulling me against him.
I press my palm against his chest. He is solid. His muscles feel like they’re made of stone.
My brain thinks of those marble statues of Greek and Roman gods. Chiseled and rock hard, every single muscle etched in perfect detail.
I wonder how close Camden’s body is to one of those statues. Even under the thick fabric of his suit, I can tell he’s ripped.
His tongue laps against mine, softly, slowly. Like he’s licking an ice cream cone. Like he’s savoring the taste of me.
A soft pulse lands between my legs. It’s sudden and surprising—totally unexpected. I’ve never felt that sensation there before. Ever.
When we break apart, I wobble slightly. Camden’s grip on my waist tightens, and he flashes an easy smile.
“Good?” he says in a soft voice.
I blink and nod, unable to speak words. That was…the best kiss I’ve had in my life.
Which isn’t saying much because I’ve only ever kissed one guy. It’s one of the side effects of being shy, sick, and busy working most of my life.
Still though. It doesn’t take away from the fact that this kiss with Camden was really damn hot.
I let out a shaky breath, just now hearing the cheers and applause around us. I look around and see a dozen people smiling at us, clapping. Some are filming us with their phones.
Nerves fire off inside of me like cannonballs. I’ve never liked being the center of attention. I’ve never liked being stared at.
Every muscle in my body twitches with the urge to scurry away, but I force myself to smile, just like Camden is. This is a good thing that people are seeing us and filming us. It means they’re buying us as a newlywed couple, which we need in order to make our marriage seem like the real thing.
Camden waves at the small crowd. I take in the easy, unbothered expression on his face. He looks so relaxed. Like he does this all the time. Like this isn’t a big deal to him at all.
Because to him, this isn’t a big deal, remember? He’s kissed a million women before you. That kiss that rocked your world? It’s a run-of-the-mill kiss for him.
Disappointment flashes through me, even though I know better. This is all for show. That kiss didn’t mean anything to him. And it shouldn’t to me either.
He takes my hand and leads me back down to the front office.
We fill out our marriage license, thank the officiant and witness, and turn in our paperwork. He grabs my hand in his and we walk out of the building.
“We’re married,” I say, still dazed.
He chuckles. “We are. Now it’s time to celebrate.”
I look over at him as we make our way down the stairs, confused.
He tilts his head at me, his mouth curved up in a cheeky smile. That dimple pops in his right cheek. “Come on now, Ellie. Did you really think I wouldn’t plan something special for my wife on our wedding day?”
“I can’t believe you got a reservation here.” I glance around at the dimly lit French restaurant in the Cherry Hill neighborhood of Denver that Camden brought me to. “One of the people I dog walk for said the reservations for this place book out more than four months.”
“I’m lucky. This place is owned and run by the brother of Theo’s wife, Maya. He leaves a table open a few times a week for one of the guys on the Bashers, in case we want to go to dinner.”
“Oh, wow. That’s so cool.
I take in the beautiful dark mahogany furnishings of Se’bon. The decor is sleek and minimalist with an earthy color scheme—warm hues of brown and gray and cream.
At the center of the restaurant is the open kitchen. A dozen chefs and cooks in white coats cook and plate meals.
“So how did it go when you called your parents and told them you got married?” Camden asks.
“They were shocked. My mom actually screamed.” I think about how, after the ceremony, when I called her outside city hall, a handful of people turned to look at me when she yelled, she was so loud.
Camden chuckles. “Happy scream or mad scream?”
“Happy scream. She was thrilled when I told her that we reconnected. So was my dad.”
“I’m glad they weren’t upset that they missed the wedding.”
“They were bummed out for sure, but they were more excited and happy for us.” I sip my water. “How about your parents? Did they handle it okay?”
“Yeah, they seemed fine about it,” Camden says, glancing off to the side.
The server stops with a bottle of champagne and two flutes. He pops it open and pours the bubbly wine into our glasses.
“On behalf of the staff here at Se’bon, we’d like to wish you our sincerest congratulations on your wedding, Mr. and Mrs. Connors,” the server says.
I still at being called Mrs. Connors. I’ll have to get used to that for the next year.
“Please enjoy this bottle of Moet, compliments of head chef, Gage Grant.”
“That’s very kind. Please tell him thank you for us,” Camden says.
The server walks off and Camden holds up his flute. I do the same.
He quirks an eyebrow. “Cheers to you, Mrs. Connors.”
I giggle as we tap glasses. I take a sip, smiling at the bubbles tickling my nose.
I notice a few of the tables around us sneak glances at Camden.
“I think some of the people here recognize you,” I say.
He just shrugs, still smiling. A trio of guys, who are sitting at a table across from us, raise their glasses at us.
“Hey, Connors. Congrats, man,” they say.
He nods at them. The server comes back and sets two plates in front of us. My mouth waters at the sight of lamb chops and rosemary roasted potatoes.
“Don’t worry, I told them about your food allergies,” Camden says. “There’s no gluten or dairy in anything they’re serving us tonight.”
A warm, gooey feeling swoops through my chest. “That’s so sweet of you, Camden.”
“You should be able to enjoy a meal without stressing about whether it’ll make you sick.”
I bite back a grin, then slice into the lamb. When I take a bite, I moan at the burst of flavors. So rich and savory.
“Oh my god, this is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” I murmur.
“The food here is incredible. My favorite restaurant in the whole city.”
I devour my food and sip my champagne, feeling giddy from the bubbles…and the fact that Camden has gone out of his way to plan an extravagant dinner for us.
It’s all for show. To sell us as a couple to the public. It doesn’t mean anything.
After the server clears our plates and refills our champagne glasses, he brings out a small, two-tiered cake covered in white frosting and fresh berries, and sets it on the table between us.
“This was prepared by Chef Grant’s brother, Tyler Grant. You may know him as The Sandwich Guy on social media,” the server says.
I gasp. “Are you serious? I love him!”
I catch Camden grinning at me.
“It’s his signature wedding cake, baked with your dietary requirements in mind, as ensured by your husband,” the server explains. “Almond flour and coconut cream, garnished with fresh raspberry preserves. No wheat or gluten or dairy.”
I look over at Camden, heartened by how he went out of his way to make sure this cake was perfect for me.
My mouth waters as I dig my fork into it and take a bite. My eyes roll back at the flavor, and I moan. It’s somehow light and sweet and rich all at once.
Camden chuckles. “Didn’t want to waste any time cutting it, huh?”
“Oh shoot, we should have cut it together.”
He just shakes his head, holding my gaze. His deep blue eyes flicker. “No, I like this better. I like watching you enjoy yourself.”
I let out a flustered chuckle at how hard he’s staring at me. “I don’t get to eat cake very much because of my allergies. I guess I got a little excited.”
“Good. I like seeing you happy. Have more.”
There’s an edge of bossiness to his tone that makes me shiver. I have another bite, trying to ignore that giddy feeling swooping through me.
I dig my fork into the cake and reach it out to him.
“You try it now,” I say in a soft voice.
Camden’s gaze doesn’t leave mine as he leans forward, opens his mouth, and eats the bite of cake.
His thick lips press together as he slowly chews. “Really damn good,” he says in a low, satisfied voice.
Goosebumps fly across my skin at how sexy his voice sounds. And the way he’s looking at me…like I’m something to eat. Like I’m the bite he’s craving.
I swallow hard, feeling warm all of a sudden. Heat dances across my skin. I feel hot and tingly, and my head is light. Almost dizzy, but in a good way.
I had no idea sharing cake could be so sexy.
A second later, I hear whispers around us. I look around and notice a handful of tables watching us. Some are taking photos.
And that’s when my brain catches up. Camden is just putting on a good show for our onlookers.
He’s supposed to look like he’s hungry for me. I’m his wife. But I know better.
I shove those giddy feelings aside as we indulge in a few more bites of cake. The server packs up the leftovers in a pretty white box for us to take home. After Camden takes care of the bill, we walk out of the restaurant and head for his car.
He drives us to his place. When he pulls into the garage, he takes the cake box from me. I climb out of his car and follow him inside. I moved out of my apartment yesterday and into Camden’s place, into the guest bedroom down the hall from his master bedroom.
Camden turns to me. “So, um, I should probably head to bed. I’ve got training in the morning.”
“Yeah, of course.” I smile, hoping I don’t look as flustered as I feel. “Thank you for dinner. And for that cake.”
“It was my pleasure.” He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck.
I step over to him and kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks for such a lovely day. For everything.”
Warmth flashes in his eyes. He starts to smile, but then he purses his lips. He frowns and clears his throat, then says, “Goodnight,” in a clipped, curt tone.
“Goodnight,” I say as I watch him walk down the hall and disappear into his bedroom.
When he closes his door, I stand alone in the kitchen, head spinning at this whirlwind day…and wondering what I did to make Camden run away from me.