Chapter 9 #4
As the afternoon unfolded, I found myself watching Cam more closely, noticing things I'd somehow missed despite working with him for years.
The way his smile started in his eyes before it reached his mouth.
How he remembered everyone's name after a single introduction.
The genuine interest he showed in my cousin Nora's husband's boring tech job, drawing the man out until he was actually animated and engaging. (Nora always claimed he was, but this was the first time we’d actually seen it first hand.)
But most of all, I noticed how seamlessly Cam fit into the chaotic tapestry of my family.
He traded fishing stories with Uncle Pete, enthusiastically discussed a "Mexico Week" debacle on the Great British Bake-Off with Aunt Margaret until she declared him "a man of impeccable taste, unlike that last boy Lana brought around," and even managed to engage my typically monosyllabic father in a lengthy conversation about defensive strategies that had Dad actually gesturing enthusiastically with the salt and pepper shakers.
Nana kept shooting me significant looks whenever Cam answered a question, mouthing "Venus-Mars" with exaggerated winks.
"Your fiancé is quite the charmer," Serena observed, sidling up to me as I watched Cam demonstrate a hockey stick-handling move to Drake using a plastic spoon and a lime. "When did you two finally get together? Drake said you've known each other for a few years."
I gave her the same abbreviated story I'd told my mother, watching her face for signs of suspicion. But Serena just smiled knowingly.
"Sometimes the best ones are right in front of us the whole time," she said, glancing at Drake with unmistakable affection.
"You two seem happy," I said, genuinely pleased for them. Drake had been devastated when they broke up after college, though he'd tried to hide it behind his usual stoic demeanor. Typical of the Decker men.
"We are," Serena confirmed. "Different this time. More honest." She twisted a strand of dark hair around her finger, a habit I remembered from our college days. "We wasted so much time pretending we didn't want the same things."
"And now?" I prompted.
She smiled, and the happiness radiating from her was almost blinding. "Now we're both finally being honest with ourselves and each other about what we want. No more pretending."
Her words hit uncomfortably close to home, though not in the way she intended. Cam and I weren't pretending we didn't want the same things. We were pretending we wanted things we didn't. Or at least, that's what I'd been telling myself.
"I'm happy for you," I said, meaning it. "Drake deserves someone who sees past the Decker name and the hockey legacy."
"So do you," Serena said pointedly. "And it looks like you found him."
Before I could formulate a response, Drake called Serena over to settle a debate about the best place on Lido Key for lobster rolls, (answer: the snack bar on Lido Beach) and I was left alone with her words echoing in my mind.
"You know what we really need..." Aunt Margaret winked conspiratorially at Cam, devilishly swirling her mimosa in the glass...
Cam immediately grinned and the two of them began cracking up before they could even get the punchline out, yelling in unison, "GUAKY-MOLO!", before exploding into riotous laughter.
It hadn't even been a full 24 hours and Cam already had an inside joke with my Aunt Margaret.
"What are your pet names for each other?" my mother asked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity as she sipped her mimosa across the outdoor breakfast table. "I always think they say so much about a couple."
I froze mid-chew, my potato salad suddenly tasteless in my mouth. Pet names were something we had explicitly avoided discussing in our fake relationship planning session. I shot a panicked glance at Cam, who sat beside me radiating casual confidence.
Without missing a beat, Cam leaned forward with an easy smile. "Well, I call her Cupcake Queen because she loves these lavender cupcakes from Sweet Caroline's downtown. She practically goes into a trance when she eats them. It's adorable."
My mother clasped her hands together, delighted. "Oh, that's precious! What about you, sweetheart? What do you call Cam?"
All eyes turned to me. I felt heat creeping up my neck as my mind went completely blank. What would I call Cam if we were really together? Honey? Baby? Sweetheart? All too generic and unconvincing.
"Um, I..." I stammered, feeling Zayne's suspicious gaze boring into me from across the table.
Cam slipped his arm around my shoulders, his thumb rubbing reassuringly against my skin. Completely useless, as Cam's touch had literally never helped my ability to think clearly.
"She's shy about it," he said, his voice warm with affection. "It's cute."
That only intensified my mother's curiosity. "Oh, now you have to tell us!"
Cornered and desperate, I blurted out the only thing that came to mind – the ridiculous name I'd mockingly threatened him with during our planning session.
"Puck Daddy," I admitted, my face burning. "I call him Puck Daddy."
There was a split second of silence before my father let out a roar of laughter, followed by my aunt and uncle. My mother's eyes widened before she joined in.
Zayne rolled his eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. "Jesus Christ," he muttered, stabbing at his potato salad.
“Did she just say Fu…” inquired Aunt Margaret. My mother gasped in faux outrage and swatted Aunt Margaret with her napkin.
"Puck Daddy?" my younger cousin Emma repeated, giggling. "Like hockey?"
"Exactly like hockey," Cam confirmed, looking entirely too pleased with the situation. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to my temple, whispering, "Nice save, Cupcake Queen."
"I love it!" my mother declared between fits of laughter.
I caught Cam's eye as my family kept giggling. His smile was genuine, his eyes twinkling with mischief. And I couldn't help but smile back, despite being absolutely mortified.
The afternoon mellowed into evening, the sun beginning its slow descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in increasingly vivid shades of pink and gold.
Gradually, the extended family began to disperse – Nora and Ben leaving first with their exhausted children, followed by Aunt Margaret and Uncle Pete, who had dinner reservations at a restaurant down the Key.
Nana insisted on hugging Cam tightly before she left, whispering something in his ear that made his eyes widen before he smiled at her with genuine warmth.
"We'll be back tomorrow for the bonfire," Aunt Margaret promised, kissing my cheek. "Can't wait to hear more about this whirlwind romance." She winked at Cam. "I've got more questions for you, young man."
"Looking forward to it," Cam replied with a grin that made my aunt giggle like a schoolgirl.
I helped my mom put dinner on the table: A huge pot jambalaya with spicy shrimp, warm corn bread and a giant spinach salad. My dad, brothers, and Cam made quick work of the meal as usual — everyone laughing and chatting animatedly.
As we finished dinner and the house quieted, I found myself drawn to the beach, seeking a moment of solitude after the social marathon of the day.
I slipped off my sandals at the edge of the dunes, relishing the feel of cool white sand between my toes as I carefully stepped around a sea turtle's nest marked with wooden stakes and yellow tape, and made my way down toward the water's edge.
The Gulf was calm, barely a ripple disturbing its surface as it reflected the kaleidoscope of the sunset. I stopped where the sand met the water, letting the gentle waves lap at my feet, and took a deep breath of salt-tinged air.
"Room for one more?"
I turned to find Cam standing a few feet away, his hands in the pockets of his shorts, the breeze ruffling his hair.
His linen shirt billowed in the breeze, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of tanned skin beneath.
It was terribly unfair that he was so hot.
And kind. With the fiery sunset illuminating his face, he looked like something out of a travel magazine: the quintessential beach dream come to life.
"It's a free beach," I said, though my heart sped up at his presence. "How'd you escape the Decker inquisition?"
"Your brother rescued me," he said, moving to stand beside me. "Zayne challenged Drake to a round of beach volleyball. I think it was partly to save me and partly to show off for Serena."
I smiled, picturing it. "Some things never change."
We stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching as the sun continued its descent, the sky deepening from pink to a rich, vivid orange that reflected off the water in shimmering ribbons of gold.
"Thank you," I said finally. "For today. For being so... good with my family."
He shrugged, but I could tell he was pleased. "They're easy to like. Zayne's always been the closest thing I've ever had to a brother," he paused. I'm really hoping that's still true after all of this."
"Still. It can be overwhelming. The Decker clan en masse is a lot."
"I liked it," he said simply. "The chaos, the teasing, the way everyone just... belongs. It's nice."
There it was again. That glimpse of vulnerability, quickly masked but unmistakable.
"You know," I said slowly, "you belong too. Not just here, but with the team. With the guys."
He glanced at me, surprised. "I know that."
"Do you? Because sometimes it seems like you're still... adapting. Still trying to fit in, even after all these years."
He was silent for a long moment, his gaze returning to the horizon.
"Survival instinct, I guess," he said finally.
"When the ground is constantly shifting under your feet as a kid, you learn to become whoever you need to be in the moment.
After a while, it's second nature. But sometimes it can feel like you never really get to be yourself.”