Chapter 12 #2
When she reached the kitchen, he was already grinning at the tray of gooey brown-butter chocolate chip cookies she’d made on impulse before leaving for the café.
His expression was so delighted, so boyishly pleased, that she felt dizzy.
‘Did you make these for me?’ he asked, looking over his shoulder and giving her a look of pure surprise.
‘Is it your turn to drool now?’ she teased, so taken aback, so touched that she sank her hands into her pockets and shrugged.
She remembered what he’d said about his mother never cooking for him, and knew he didn’t expect Maud to ply him with food either. He was a man who seemed to get pleasure from simple things, but was still floored by a small act of kindness. It was intoxicating and as irresistible as he was.
‘Yep.’ He turned and laughed, the wide open smile lighting his face. ‘It sure might be.’ He gazed at her and blinked a couple of times as the room fell silent.
‘Um, your dinner’s in the oven,’ she said, her cheeks heating.
He turned to pluck a biscuit from the baking tray, bit into it and groaned, and her whole body began to hum.
‘You’re going to ruin your appetite,’ she rasped and felt everything inside her freeze. When he turned again, his eyes were dark as he stared at her.
‘I really don’t think that’s possible,’ he said slowly, and for a moment she wondered if he wasn’t talking about food at all.
She cleared her throat. ‘Um.’
‘Are you eating too?’ he asked, perhaps aware of the tension he’d just created.
She swallowed as lust swam through her, almost drowning her ability to form words. ‘I could,’ she said eventually. She hadn’t eaten much before heading for the café – she’d been too caught up in the cooking and had run out of time but… She checked her watch. ‘It’s late.’
‘Then I’d better get on with serving,’ he said, indicating the breakfast bar.
‘Pull up a seat and I’ll sort everything.
You’ve done all the hard work, you can at least try some.
Besides, that way, I’ll know it’s definitely not poisoned.
’ The edges of his eyes creased at the joke.
He was more relaxed than Izzi had ever seen him and while she really needed to sleep because she had an early morning, she couldn’t bring herself to go.
‘I’ll hang the coats up first,’ she said, heading for the utility room, trying to catch her breath. The swings and roundabouts of her emotions were both confusing and exhilarating – and she felt like she was on a roller coaster that she didn’t want to get off.
When she returned to the kitchen, Cupcake was sitting in his dog basket chewing a bone and Cameron had already served the food into bowls and cut great chunks of crusty bread.
As soon as Izzi caught the rich, savoury scent of the meal, her stomach grumbled, telling her she was hungrier than she’d realised.
She shouldn’t eat before bed – she’d probably have weird dreams – but the intimacy of this moment, the warm food and cosy, lamplit kitchen were too intoxicating to pass up.
She sat and watched Cameron pour them both a glass of red wine.
Then he picked up a spoon and scooped up some stew, tasting a little as a low-pitched groan of pleasure formed in his throat.
He chewed thoughtfully before turning to stare at her.
‘That’s amazing,’ he said, nodding at her spoon, which she realised was hovering, halfway to her mouth.
She’d been so caught up watching him – enjoying his obvious pleasure – that she’d forgotten to feed herself. ‘You need to eat,’ he said gruffly.
She nodded and smiled. ‘So you know it’s not poisoned?’
He cleared his throat. ‘Sure.’ Then his eyes dropped back to his bowl, and he began to dig in again ravenously.
Izzi ate a couple of mouthfuls and then watched, absorbing the pleasure of the moment, the pure beauty of him, and relishing this oddly intimate scene.
The sharing of food. Food she’d created especially for him.
Her mind drifted to how it might feel to kiss Cameron again.
Would he look at her like he was looking at his meal now, consume her with the same level of abandon?
Her lips began to tingle as she imagined it.
Should she? Could she? Would he even want to?
The questions swirled around her mind, confusing her and she suddenly lost her nerve.
Unsure if she could handle the rejection if she made a move and he said no.
Cameron glanced up and this forehead knitted. ‘Why aren’t you eating?’ he asked. ‘You’re not sick, are you?’ He sounded genuinely worried.
She swallowed the emotion, the fear lodged in her throat. ‘I’m fine. I think it’s probably just too late. Um.’ She glanced at the window to where the storm was still raging. ‘I should probably go to bed. I’ve got an early start and…’
‘Are you sure?’ he looked confused. ‘You’ve barely eaten.’ He indicated her bowl.
‘I…’ Izzi swallowed, knowing if she stayed for even a moment longer, she’d probably say something about her growing attraction and she wasn’t sure either of them was ready for that.
So she hopped off the chair and saw disappointment cloud his vibrant eyes.
He opened his mouth as if he was going to ask her something, then closed it.
Opened it again but then shook his head.
‘Let me see you to the door then,’ he said reluctantly and she jerked her chin.
‘And take one of the coats hanging by the door so you don’t get wet. ’
She nodded, because now she couldn’t speak. Emotion, need, swam through her as she made her way through the kitchen. She knew he’d followed because she could feel his eyes stroking across the skin on her back. Could feel curls of lust flickering, reminding her they were still there. Still waiting.
When she reached the door, she grabbed a coat and yanked it open without turning.
She didn’t look around until she was outside in the rain, and when she did, she saw Cameron staring at her, his eyes filled with questions.
‘Goodnight, Izzi,’ he rasped after a few moments of heavy silence, and she nodded before making her way across the garden. She could still feel his eyes burning into the back of her neck and wondered how long it would be before either she or he gave in…