He grabs my ass and kisses my neck. “You don’t have to wear pants.”
“I do. I do have to wear pants.”
Now he pouts, and I pat his cheek playfully. “You can take them back off later.”
“Deal.”
I can hear him rustling through my kitchen, looking for serving utensils and plates, as I clean up and throw on clean clothes. I forgo the underwear, just because I’m feeling sassy.
When I rejoin him, he’s plated the brownies with ice cream, and found a sprig of mint to put on the top of each one.
“Fancy.”
He turns and smiles at me. “Why shouldn’t I make it fancy for you? I’m trying to impress you.”
“It might be working,” I reply with a shrug and take my plate from him, leading him onto my front porch.
“This space is great,” he says, settling in next to me.
“I wanted a screened-in porch,” I say, and take a bite of the melty ice cream and hot brownie. “Dear God, that’s good.”
“Make noises like that, Mia, and I’ll take you right here on the porch where everyone can hear you.”
“No, you won’t.” I lean against him and chew thoughtfully. “I wanted the porch to be screened in because I like to eat out here, but I don’t like bugs.”
“Makes sense.”
“Everyone made fun of me.”
“I don’t like to have bugs around while I eat either. I don’t see why they’d make fun of you for it.”
“Well, by everyone I mean Landon, and he pretty much makes fun of me for everything.”
Camden nods and finishes his treat, sets the plate to the side, and wraps his arms around me while I continue to eat. “I make fun of my sister for just about everything too. It’s what we do.”
“I get it.”
“Your brownies are delicious.”
“Yeah, this is turning out to be a religious experience.”
He chuckles and kisses my temple. “You make me laugh.”
I finish my brownie and set the plate next to Camden’s, then sit quietly in his arms for a long moment, just enjoying the evening with him. Once in a while a car will drive by, interrupting the quiet, and then it settles around us again.
“Are you sleepy?” he asks.
“I’m getting there. Let’s sit out here for a while.”
“I’d like to stay.”
It’s not a question. He’s not asking if he can. And I definitely don’t want him to leave.
“You should stay.”
He nods and we sit like this for a long time, watching the neighborhood, enjoying each other. The silence isn’t uncomfortable. In fact, I don’t remember the last time I felt this content.
This safe.
My eyes are heavy, so I let them close and enjoy the sounds around me. The frogs and Camden’s even breathing.
“Mia.”
“Hmm.”
“You’re sleeping, sweetheart.”
“I’m just resting my eyes.”
“Let’s go to bed.”
I sit up, stretch, and reach for the plates. “Maybe I am tired.”
“I know I am. You wore me out.”
“Sure I did.” I laugh and lock the door, turn off the lights, and set the plates in the kitchen sink. Camden checks the lock on the back door and reaches out for my hand.
“Come on, you can wear me out some more.”
It’s not Sunday, which sucks ass. It means that I can’t lie in bed and be lazy until it’s time to go have brunch with the girls. It also means that it’s Saturday, and it’s going to be so fucking busy at work that I’ll drop back into bed tonight as a zombie. My feet will be numb. My hair will smell. I’ll be alone.
Wait.
I may not be alone.
In fact, if memory serves, I’m not alone right now.
Without opening my eyes, I reach out and feel around in my king-sized bed, but I don’t encounter any warm, manly flesh. Just cool sheets.
I frown and open one bleary eye, looking around in confusion. Camden spent the night last night. If he sneaked out of here and left me a cliché note on the pillow, I’ll hunt him down and throat punch him.
I might be a tiny bit grouchy in the morning. But damn it, I’m too old to hook up with men who sneak out before morning.
“She’s awake.”
Without sitting up, I turn my head and find Camden standing in the doorway of my bedroom, holding a tray with steaming food on it.
“I have to work this morning,” I remind him, but he just smirks and carries the tray to my bed, sets it down at the end of the bed and leans over to kiss me.
I haven’t brushed my teeth, so I’m mildly horrified as he pulls away.
“I made breakfast. You didn’t have much in the fridge, so you’re stuck with a bacon and cheese omelet. No side.”
“That’s more than I usually eat.” I sit up, wrap the sheet around me and lean against the headboard.
Camden snaps a picture of me on his phone.
“Are you an amateur photographer?”
I reach for the coffee first and take a sip.
“I like the way you look,” he replies as he strips out of his boxers and joins me in bed. He reaches for the food, grabs one of the two forks, and takes a bite of the omelet.
“I thought you said that was for me?”
“It’s for both of us. You only had enough for one.”
Reaching for my fork, I lean in and kiss his shoulder as I load up the eggy, cheesy goodness. “Thanks for doing this.”
“You’re welcome. I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“I need to get up anyway. I should get to Seduction early to start prepping for today. Saturday is our busiest day of the week as it is, but Jake is playing tonight, so we will be packed.”
“Jake Knox,” he says with a nod. “I haven’t met him yet.”
“Come by this evening and you will.”
He takes one more bite and sets his fork down, leaving the last bite for me. “I’d like to come help today, Mia.”
“It’s not—”
“My job, I know, but damn it, you need the help. I’ll be bored, wandering around the city of Portland aimlessly and alone, while you get to have fun in the kitchen all day. It’s not fair.” He sighs deeply, as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders, and I can’t help but smile at him.
“You’re a nice guy.”
“Now you’re just being mean. The hot girl never wants the nice guy.”
“I don’t know what the hot girl wants, but I like the nice guy.”
“You’re the hot girl.” He kisses my cheek. “I’m going to take a selfie.”
I frown. “I look horrible.”
“No, you don’t.” He raises the camera, and rather than smile at the lens, I rest my forehead on his jaw. “That’s okay, this is a cute picture.”
He shows it to me, and I have to agree. He’s smiling big, bare chested, his dark blond hair a mess. My eyes are closed, and it looks like a sweet, intimate moment between the two of us.
“Will you send it to me?”
“I’ll post it on social media, too.”
I pull back in surprise. “No, you won’t.”
“Okay, I won’t.” He grins and texts the picture to me. “Tell me I won’t be alone and sad today while you have fun at work.”
“We can’t have that.” I wipe my lips on the napkin and toss it on the tray. “You can come in.”
“Great.”
“I have to take a quick shower so I can get ready for work.”
“Even better.”
“Do not interrupt me in the shower. I had time for sex or breakfast. You made your choice.”
“Bullshit,” he calls after me.
The hot water feels so good on my sore body. I’m deliciously sore, muscles that I didn’t know I had are weeping. I guess that’s what happens when you have sex several times through the night after a long dry spell.
Just as I’m finishing up, the glass do
or of my walk-in shower opens and in walks a very naked, very aroused Camden.
“Hi,” he says with a smile. “I came to wash your back.”
“I was just about to get out.”
“Good. I didn’t really want to wash your back.” He pins me against the wall of the shower, and kisses me, holding my hands above my head with one hand and letting his other roam all over my slick body. “You’re fucking sexy in the morning.”
“Camden.”
“Yes.”
“I hate to burst this lusty bubble, but water sex isn’t really comfortable for me.”
He leans back and looks down at me with a frown. “In what way?”
Well this isn’t uncomfortable at all.
“I’m just going to say it.”
“We’re both adults here.”
“For a lot of women, me included, when you have sex in the water, it washes away the natural lubrication and it hurts so fucking bad.”
“I’m a thirty-two-year-old man, and I’ve never heard this before.”
“Probably because no one wanted to say anything. You don’t want to ruin the moment and all that. But I’m already a little sore from last night, and if we do this here, I will be in agony, and I have to be on my feet all day.”
“No problem.”
He picks me up and spins around, pinning me against the opposite wall. I can feel the hot water on my legs and feet, but it’s nowhere near my vagina.
“Better?”
“Oh yeah.”
He grins and kisses me softly, slowly as he slides inside me, also at a happily lazy pace. It seems that when it comes to sex, Camden doesn’t do anything quickly.
Which, in this moment, works well for me. My tired, oversexed muscles have the chance to adjust to him again before he starts to move. His thrusts are shallow, so he stays buried deep inside me.
It’s fucking amazing.
“Mia,” he murmurs against my neck.
“Yes.”
“I want to stay here with you, all day, and do this. Relearn you. Feed you. Laugh with you. Fuck you.”
I bite his shoulder as his pubis presses on my clit and moan. My fingernails are digging into his back.
“I can’t hold on.”
“Don’t.” He bites my neck, just the way I like it, and that’s all it takes to send me over the edge, riding the wave of ecstasy that washes over me.
He sets me gently on my feet and I immediately kneel. I wash off his cock and then suck him, working him over with both hands and my mouth. His moans and gasps of delight fuel my hunger to please him, to make him as crazy as he makes me.
He calls out my name and comes, making a mess of me, and I don’t care. He’s shivering and weak, and I feel like the most powerful woman in the world as I stand and wash off, then leave him to clean up in the shower while I towel off.
“Was that okay?” he asks, still breathing hard.
“Oh yeah. I think you’ve figured out the water sex hack.”
He nods. “Good. Because we’ll be doing that again.”
I want to stay here with you, all day, and do this. Relearn you. Feed you. Laugh with you. Fuck you.
His words are on a constant loop in my head. For the first time that I can remember, I want to stay home. I want to blow off work and stay home with him, doing all of the things he described. I wish I had another chef on staff that I trusted to take care of things without me.
I’ve never given this a thought before, but it’s not a bad one. He’s right, I need people in my kitchen that I trust. What if I was sick? Or in an accident? The kitchen has to be able to function without me.
I’ll talk with Cami later about the budget and how much we can afford.
“You okay?” he asks as he joins me in my bedroom. He’s just toweled off. He kisses me on the shoulder.
“Yeah.”
“You’re just standing here,” he says with a smile and reaches for his clothes. “Are you sure?”
“I’m great.” I smile, excited that he’s going to come help today. “Are you sure you want to give up your Saturday to work at the restaurant?”
“I’m not giving up anything, baby.” He glances around to make sure he has everything. “But I’m going to have to meet you there. I’ll need to swing by my place and change my clothes.”
“No problem.”
“Drive safely,” he says as he walks out of the room. “I’ll see you in a bit. I’ll bring Starbucks.”
“Oh Lord,” I mutter after I hear the front door close. “I could fall in love with him. Again.”
Chapter Eight
~Camden~
“Tonight’s show was fantastic, as always,” Addie says as she kisses her husband, Jake. It’s after closing time, and we’re gathered in the bar, unwinding before we all head home.
“You might be biased,” Jake says with a grin.
“Well, I’m not biased,” I reply. “It was pretty great.”
“Thank you,” he says with a nod. “It’s always fun to play here. That’s how Addie and I met, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know.”
“We put out an ad for a weekend musician,” Addie says, “and Jake came in to apply for it.”
“Were ticket sales down?” I ask.
“I hadn’t performed in a long time,” he says. “And I missed it. But I don’t ever want to go back to touring. The band isn’t getting back together. I’m happy producing music, but I liked the idea of getting on a small stage with my guitar. And the rest is history.”
“He’s a busy man, so he only performs once a month now,” Addie adds. “We have a little girl, and he has a business to run.”
“How did you and Mia meet?” Jake asks.
“In culinary school,” Mia says as she methodically takes her hair down, as is her habit most nights after work. Kat passes us both a glass of wine from behind the bar.
“I don’t think I’ve heard this story,” Kat says. “Spill it.”
“Don’t you have a husband to go home to?” Mia asks with a scowl.
“He’ll still be there after you tell me the story,” Kat replies with a grin.
“I actually like our story,” I say and look to Mia. She nods, and I launch into it. “So, Mia and I went to culinary school together up near Seattle. That’s where I’m originally from. Mia and I were assigned to be lab partners, which worked for me. I mean, look at her.”
“Don’t look at me. I’m a mess.”
“You’re beautiful,” I reply. “Even when you’re a mess.” Kat and Addie exchange a glance, but I keep talking. “Anyway, it didn’t hurt my feelings at all to work with Mia. She was funny and smart, and she had a great work ethic even then.”
“I am pretty awesome.” Mia smirks and sips her wine.
“She would get these ideas, and run with them. And I would just step back and follow her lead.”
“What does that mean?” Mia’s scowling at me.
“Well, you’re bossy. You have a successful restaurant for a reason, Mia. Even if the rest of the place is amazing, people won’t come back if the chef sucks. You’re not exactly warm and fuzzy, but you control everything around you.”
“I’m not warm and fuzzy enough for you?” she asks—her voice deadly calm—and I know that I’ve just royally fucked things up, but I have no idea how.
“It’s not an insult, Mia. You know that I loved working with you in school.”
“Even though I was a bitch,” she says, nodding.
“Whoa. I didn’t call you a bitch.”
“You know, you weren’t complaining about my level of warm and fuzzy last night when you fucked me all night.”
“Enough.” My voice is stern, and I’m disappointed in her. “We’ll talk about this in private.”
“No need.” She shakes her head and chugs the last of her wine before slamming the glass down so hard that the stem breaks. “There’s no need to be around me if you think I’m a bitch. I mean, no one wants to be around someone who’s not wa
rm and fuzzy.”
She stands and marches out of the bar and I’m blinking in confusion.
“What the fuck just happened?” I ask.
“It’s not your fault,” Addie says. “Sometimes Mia gets a little touchy about her stern work ethic. People have quit and marched out, calling her a cunt, and a bitch, and every other name in the book on their way out the door. They think she’s too tough on her staff, but really she just wants them to want to do well. To be competent at their job.”
“She really just needs a whole day off once in a while,” Kat says. “Of all of us, I’d say the transition has been the hardest for her. But she won’t talk about it with us.”
“I see.” I stand and nod at the others before I follow the way Mia went. I find her standing near the hostess stand, her head bowed. “Mia.”
She sniffles and quickly wipes her cheeks dry. “What?”
“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
God, please don’t cry. That’s the worst thing that a woman can do to a man. We just aren’t equipped to deal with tears.
“I’m not crying,” she says, but another tear slips out of the corner of her eye and onto her cheek. “Damn it.”
“I wasn’t insulting you, sweetheart. Your work ethic is amazing. It’s one of the things that I admire the most about you. You kick my ass, that’s for sure.”
“I’m not insulted.”
“Come here.”
She pauses and bites her lip, and then her face crumples in tears and she throws herself into my arms, hugging me tightly around the middle. Her face is buried in my chest as she cries.
“Shh.” I rub my hand in circles around her back. “Sweetheart, it’s okay.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Talk to me.”
“I’m not mean. I’m not cold or heartless.”
“No, you’re absolutely not those things.”
“I mean, I expect a certain level of professionalism. I always have. The kitchen should be clean and organized. Everyone needs to be mindful of what they’re doing. Pay fucking attention.”
“Otherwise people get hurt,” I add, agreeing wholeheartedly with her.
“Yes!” She nods. “Exactly. I don’t know what’s wrong with people, but let me just say, very few people share our views on that. And when it happens in my kitchen, they get thrown out on their ass.”