“I can only imagine,” Cami says with a wink. “He’s a hottie.”
“Hey,” Landon says.
“You’re a hottie too, babe,” she says and kisses his shoulder. “Keep talking.”
“We were lab partners, so we worked together in the kitchen about three times a week. We worked well together. We laughed a lot, and he was just a nice guy.”
“He sounds horrible,” Cami says with a wink.
“Yeah, it was tough.” I sigh and stand, not able to sit anymore, and pace the big patio. “One day, he came into class and looked stressed out. Turns out, his roommate had to suddenly move out. So that meant that Camden was left without a roommate, and he was worried that he’d have to quit school because he couldn’t afford it all himself.”
“So, he doesn’t come from a wealthy family,” Landon says.
“No. In fact, both of his parents were killed when he was young, like maybe around twelve I think? And his older sister Stephanie raised him.”
“Wow,” Cami says. “That’s sad.”
“Anyway, at about that same time, the house that I was renting with a couple other girls was being sold out from under us, so we needed to find a new place.”
“I remember that,” Cami says.
“I don’t remember any of this,” Landon says with a scowl.
“You were off being a sexy pilot,” Cami replies, waving him off.
Scoot jumps off the chaise and begins to follow me around the patio as I pace.
“So, when he told me that he needed a roommate, I said I did too, and it made sense to just move in together.”
“Wait. You were dating him?” Cami asks.
“No. We were just friends.”
“Okay,” she says with a nod. “Just clarifying.”
“It was a two-bedroom apartment, not far from the school. He already had all the furniture, so it was great because all I had was my personal stuff. We got along well.” I grin and then feel myself blush. “Really well, actually. After I moved in, and we were spending more time together, he couldn’t keep his hands off me.”
“I don’t want to know this part,” Landon says, but Cami hushes him.
“I do. I really do. Keep talking.”
“Now, I need to clarify that we never said we were girlfriend and boyfriend. He never said the L word. Ever. But we fucked all the damn time.”
“Atta girl,” Cami says as Landon continues to scowl.
“So, there was chemistry and good sex and I truly believe we were also good friends. We watched a lot of movies, practiced recipes, and just generally hung out.”
“He was totally your boyfriend,” Cami says.
“I was so insecure,” I reply with a sigh. “You remember, Cami. If you think I have insecurities now, it’s nothing compared to then. I was overweight, and kids are horrible. Boys were horrible. And suddenly, this super-hot guy wanted me.” I turn and stare at Cami, just as confused now as I was then. “Why did he do that?”
“Because he was hot for you,” Landon says. “Because he’s not an asshole and knows that women come in all shapes and sizes, and you’re an amazing girl.”
“All of that,” Cami says with a nod. “Also, I want to marry you all over again.”
“I’m not done,” I remind them. “So, after we’d been living together for maybe three or four months, I missed a period.”
“Oh God.” Cami covers her mouth with her hands.
I nod. “I didn’t mention it for a few days, hoping that I would just start, but I didn’t. So I told him, and he wasn’t freaking out. Not like I thought he would. He just went out and bought a pregnancy test.”
“Oh my God,” Cami says again.
I swallow hard and stand with my back to them, looking out on their backyard.
“It was positive. That was on a Thursday evening. I called the doctor the next day, but they couldn’t get me in until Tuesday. I was so fucking scared. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want him to think that I was trying to trap him into being with me. That’s just stupid.”
I turn back to face them again.
“And we weren’t technically a couple. He’d never said I love you. And neither did I, to be honest. But he decided, right then and there, that we were getting married.”
“What?” Landon demands.
“Yeah. I know. Dumb. But we were twenty, and he said he was going to do the right thing. We got all caught up in the idea of it all, and the next thing I knew, we were standing in the courthouse, signing a marriage license and got married on the spot.”
“You got fucking married?” Landon yells.
“Don’t yell at me now, you idiot; it was ten years ago, and I’m not married anymore.” I roll my eyes and pace some more. “So I went to the doctor on that Tuesday, and it turned out that I wasn’t pregnant.”
“You lost the baby?” Cami asks.
“No. I was never pregnant. It was a false positive. I didn’t know what the fuck to do. He only married me because I was pregnant, and I wasn’t pregnant. So, I went back to the apartment and packed my things and left.”
“You didn’t even talk to him?” Landon asks.
“I left him a note that basically said that I wasn’t pregnant and now he could go find someone to love for real. I came back to Portland and went to school here.”
“Did you ever hear from him again?”
“Not until the other day when he walked into our bar.” I take a deep breath and look up to find them staring at me like I’m a complete moron. “What?”
“So, you just left, and didn’t try to have an adult conversation with the man?” Landon asks and I suddenly feel so foolish.
“I’m a horrible human being.” I cover my eyes and fight the tears that want to come. “But to be fair, he didn’t chase after me. But yes, I’m horrible.”
“No, you were twenty. And scared,” Cami says. “You were upset and afraid of being rejected by him.”
“I truly thought that the baby was the only reason he married me.”
“Well, that may be true,” Landon says. “But he definitely cared about you. If he wasn’t into you and the relationship, he would have had an entirely different reaction when you told him you might be pregnant.”
“He’s right,” Cami says with a nod. “And if you’d called to talk to one of us, we would have told you that.”
“I fucked up so bad,” I whisper. “I have to apologize. Right now. Tonight.”
I head inside the house, and Cami and Landon follow me.
“It’s almost ten in the evening,” Cami says. “This will keep one more night.”
“It’s already been ten years,” Landon reminds me.
“No.” I shake my head and grab my bag and keys. “I need to do this now.”
I rush to the front door and then stop cold.
“What’s wrong?” Cami asks.
I turn to her and let the tears fall. “I don’t know where he’s staying.”
“Aw, sugar, you’re tired.” Landon wraps his arms around me and hugs me close. I haven’t let anyone get this close to me physically in a long time, and it feels so good. “You can talk to him in the morning.”
“Yeah.” I sniffle and wipe my nose on his shirt.
“Did you just do what I think you did?”
“You’re still hugging me,” I reply, as if that explains it all. “You get what you get.”
“You really are a horrible human being,” he says.
“I know.” I sigh and finally hug him back. “I’m a bad person.”
“It’s okay.” Cami pats my back. “We’re still keeping you.”
Chapter Four
~Camden~
I don’t know why I’m pounding on the restaurant door for the sixth time. No one answered the first five times, so the likelihood of them answering now is, well, unlikely.
It’s almost eight, and Mia’s still not here. Of course, I don’t have her number. I’ll be rectifying that situation today.
In the meantime, where the fuck is she?
I pace on the sidewalk. Traffic is heavy now with people scrambling to get to work. I’ve almost been trampled twice by speed walkers, so I lean against the brick wall and sip my coffee.
Mia’s is getting cold.
When she doesn’t arrive by eight, I call Trevor.
“Mia’s not here,” I say when he picks up the phone. “She should have been here a half hour ago. Can you please call her?”
“Of course. I’ll call you right back.”
I end the call and narrow my eyes as I take another long sip of black coffee. This is unlike Mia, and it sets me on edge.
Which is stupid.
My phone rings.
“Hello.”
“She didn’t pick up,” Trevor says with a sigh. “Oh wait.” He mumbles something to Riley. “Give me a few more minutes, Camden.”
And with that, he hangs up. What in the hell is going on? Is she okay?
Just when I’m about to call Trevor again, he calls me.
“Yeah.”
“Sorry, man. She’s okay. She should be there in less than an hour.”
“Thanks for letting me know.”
I walk over to the Starbucks to get another coffee for me and a fresh one for her. The line is long at this time of day, so by the time I get back to Seduction, Mia is just running up to the front door, her keys clutched in her hands.
“I’m so sorry,” she says breathlessly. She unlocks the door and ushers me in, then locks it again behind us and walks quickly toward the kitchen. Her hair is still down around her shoulders, and her cheeks are flushed, the way they used to be after I’d fucked her senseless.
“I’m so, so sorry,” she says again and turns to look at me. “I overslept. I never do that. Is that coffee for me?”
“Under one condition,” I reply and pass my phone to her. “Put your number into my phone and you can have the coffee.”
“You’re holding the coffee hostage for my phone number?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes dance with humor as she accepts my phone and punches in her number then hands it back. “Gimme.”
She takes a sip of her hot drink and sighs. “It wouldn’t have made a difference if you had my phone number today or not. I forgot it last night.”
“Here?”
She frowns. “No.”
She was with a dude. Of course. She’s successful and beautiful. It makes sense that she would be with someone.
Doesn’t mean I don’t want to punch the fucker, though.
“I ended up having dinner at Landon and Cami’s place, and I forgot my phone when I went home. I slept late. So late, in fact, that I didn’t wake up until Landon was standing over me yelling my name.”
She turns on the faucet and washes her hands.
“Do you have any idea how mortifying it is to have your brother break into your house to wake you up? Especially when I sleep naked, and it was warm in my house last night, so I didn’t have any covers on.”
I can’t stop the bark of laughter that shoots out of me.
“Yeah, you can laugh, but I think Landon would give his left kidney to be able to rewind the last two hours and have Cami come wake me up.”
“Let’s go back to the naked part,” I say, but she just shakes her head with a laugh. “Seriously. You never used to sleep naked.”
“I was twenty,” she reminds me with a wink. “That was a while ago.”
I tilt my head, watching her. “What else has changed?”
“Only everything,” she says with a smile. “Way too much to list right now. I’m seriously very sorry, Camden. This never happens.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I reply with a shrug.
“It sort of is, because now I don’t have time to work on our recipes. I haven’t done any prep work for the day, so I’m going to have to dig in. And, at some point, I’d like to have a chat with you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Am I in trouble?”
“No.” She smiles and reaches for a big bowl. “But we have to save it for later. I have too much—”
Her phone rings, making her frown. “Shit,” she mutters before she answers. “Hello. Okay. That’s the third time this month.” She sighs and rubs her fingers over her eyes, which means she’s stressed out. “Fine.”
She hangs up and glares at no one in particular.
“What’s up?”
“My sous chef just called out sick. Again.” She sighs. “Looks like it’s just me today.”
“You don’t have anyone you can call in?”
“Nope. I was already down a chef, and I haven’t had time to hire someone. At least I don’t have to wash dishes.”
“I’ll help.”
“No.”
“Jesus Christ, Mia. I’m obviously qualified and I’m here. I don’t have other plans today.”
She blows a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Fine. I mean, thank you. First, I need to marinate some chicken for tonight’s special.” She marches into the fridge and then right back out again with frustration written all over her face.
“My supplier didn’t bring the thighs. He brought extra breasts. So I have to shift tracks.”
“Suggestion. Let me take care of the special tonight.”
“Are you going to the store to get me chicken thighs?”
“No.” I list off all of the ingredients for my chicken marsala. “Do you have all of that?”
“Of course.”
“It’ll be a hit. I promise.”
“Should we make a sign saying that you’re the guest chef today?” She smirks, but then her eyes widen. “Oh, there could be something to that.”
“This is your kitchen, Mia.”
“Fucking right it is, but if we put on the outside chalkboard that Camden Sawyer is here as a guest chef, it’ll pull some people in. Riley would agree with me.” She nods decisively.
“I don’t give even one shit about my name being anywhere. I’m just trying to take something off your list.”
“That’s nice of you,” she says and gestures to her right. “There are extra aprons and hats in there. You can use that workstation,” she nods to the right, “and if you need anything, just ask. I tend to move fast, and I get cranky if people get in my way, but I’ll try to rein that in since you’re doing me a solid.”
God, she’s remarkable.
“Sounds good.”
She stops and props her hands on her hips. “Are you sure? You don’t have to do this.”
“It’ll be like the good ol’ days,” I reply, making her roll her eyes. “We always worked well together.”
“I guess we should see if that still sticks,” she says with a nod. “Okay, here’s what I need . . .”
It’s two thirty before we have a chance to take any kind of break. The lunch crowd was intense, but Mia moved through it all with complete confidence.
I glance her way and grin. She’s shaking her hips, the way she always does when she’s stirring something, and turns around to fetch her pepper grinder.
“What?” she asks.
“I’m just watching.”
“Why?” She looks at her own butt and then frowns at me. “Do I have something on my ass?”
“No.” I reach out and tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “I always did like to watch you cook.”
“Well, you’re the only one. I’m usually grouchy, but it’s just because I want everything to be just perfect, and most of the people I’ve hired have the shittiest work ethic ever. You’re not bad, though.”
“Thanks.”
She laughs and suddenly wraps her arms around my middle in a hug. It’s over as quickly as it began and she’s back at the stovetop before I can say anything.
“I appreciate your help today,” she says at last.
“It’s been fun. I haven’t worked in a restaurant kitchen in about three years, and this reminds me that I miss it.”
“Being a big-shot celebrity chef can’t suck,” s
he says. Her red bow lips are pursed in a flirty smile and I want to kiss them so bad it hurts.
“You should know,” I reply, earning an eye-roll.
“I had one special on TV,” she reminds me. “I’m hardly a celebrity.”
“Cooking has been good to me,” I admit. “I’m doing what I love to do, and it compensates me well.”
“That’s all any of us wants,” she says. “Trevor said the other day that you have a new cookbook coming out?”
“Just before Christmas, yeah,” I reply. “They’re fun, but a lot of work.”
“I can only imagine,” she says. “Just coming up with ways to freshen up the menu a few times a year is tough. I can’t imagine doing a whole cookbook.”
“When does your dinner chef arrive?” I ask.
“You’re looking at her.”
She walks away from me, into the walk-in freezer this time and when she comes back out carrying five pounds of butter, I take it from her and set it on the countertop.
“Why don’t you have more help?” I ask.
“Honestly, it’s just easier to do it myself. No one knows my recipes like I do, and they don’t taste the same when someone else makes them. It’s like someone other than your mom making your favorite childhood dish. It’s never the same.”
“Mia, you need a day off now and then.”
“You sound like everyone else,” she says and unwraps the butter. “I’m fine.”
“Why did you sleep late today?”
“Camden, I don’t have time for your expert psychological analysis today. It may be slower right now, but in about two hours the dinner rush is going to hit, and I won’t be able to stop moving until we close the kitchen at ten. I overslept today because I was fucking tired.” She turns to me. “That’s the truth.”
But it’s not that simple.
“Okay.” I nod and turn back to what I was doing. “I’ll need more garlic. Do you have some in the fridge?”
“You don’t have to stay for dinner.”
“I’m not leaving you here to work by yourself for another eight fucking hours, Mia.” She turns to say something but I hold my hand up, stopping her. “The question was about garlic, not whether or not I’m staying.”