Chapter 9
TARA
Iwatch through the cafe window as Cameron Crow walks onto the terrace with his daughter, that massive black Lab trailing behind them.
My hands shake slightly as I clear table six and remember when Cameron's fingers brushed against mine when I served his coffee.
A jolt of heat flares through me when I realize he remembered that night. That hotel lobby kiss. And how I yielded to him, as if my body had always known his touch.
I shouldn't be thinking about this.
Cameron’s a famous rockstar. And he probably flirts like that with all the girls. But God, the way he looked at me.
Outside, I observe Posey talking to the other dogs like she's making introductions at a garden party. Cameron watches her with a proud smile.
My eyes follow the powerful lines of his shoulders, his tapered waist. Man, he's gorgeous.
"Table twelve needs more coffee," Sam calls from the kitchen window.
I grab the pot. But a moment later, I hear shouting from the terrace. I turn to the glass and see a crowd gathering around someone on the ground. An older man in a sailor's cap collapsed near the water trough. Salty! One of my favorite customers.
Cameron is already there, dropping to his knees beside the fallen man. Without hesitation, he rips open Salty's shirt and begins chest compressions with the practiced confidence of someone who's done this before.
My pulse jolts as I watch those strong hands. The same hands that touched me so gently, now working to save a stranger's life. There's something primal about seeing him take charge, seeing the focused intensity on his face as he fights to keep Salty alive.
"Jesus," Sam breathes beside me. "The guy knows what he's doing."
Cameron's shoulders strain against his black T-shirt with each compression. Sweat beads on his forehead, but he doesn't stop even though poor Salty looks half-dead.
Posey stands nearby, clutching Edison's collar, her eyes wide. Ambulance sirens wail in the distance, yet Cameron keeps working.
When the EMTs arrive and finally wave Cameron away, he staggers back, chest heaving. His shirt is soaked with sweat, his dark hair disheveled. He looks like he just fought death and won.
I watch as he scoops Posey into his arms, holding her close as they watch the ambulance pull away.
When Cameron and Posey walk back inside with their dog following, every eye in the cafe is on them. As they settle back into their booth, I see Cameron's face flushed, adrenaline still coursing through him.
His eyes find mine across the room. I walk over to congratulate him.
"You're a hero," I say, my voice coming out breathier than intended. "That was incredible."
Cameron shrugs, still catching his breath. "It's been a long time since I had the occasion to use that skill, but it came back."
Posey tugs on Cameron's sleeve. "Is that man going to the hospital? Can we visit him? Can we make sure he's okay?"
"We'll see."
My eyes meet Cameron’s. I wait to see if now that he's found me again, he'll ask for my number.
But no. Not yet, at least. It's all light banter as I bring their meal and refill coffee.
Later, when they've finished their brunch and I bring their check, Cameron pulls out a worn leather wallet and extracts cash. Cash? I think to myself. And why would a billionaire rockstar have such an old, cracked wallet?
He must have seen the surprised expression on my face, because he looks up at me with a teasing grin. "You accept cash here, right?" he says, laying out the money.
"Yes. Of course."
Cameron stands, and suddenly he's close enough that I can smell his cologne mixed with the faint scent of sweat from his heroics. His dark eyes hold mine with an intensity that makes my knees weak.
"We'll be back soon."