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‘We’ll table it until you’re here in person,’ Carrie says.
Cameron sighs. It’s as good as he’ll get. ‘I’ve got to finish packing. I’ll see you Monday.’
He ends the call and pockets his phone.
His distraction has resulted in a messily packed suitcase so he pulls half the clothes out to start again. He could have happily carried on holding an uncomplicated, phone-based friendship with a co-worker forever, regardless of Chloe’s thoughts on his ‘wall against social connection’ or whatever she described it as.
He doesn’t have a wall. Sure, there was a certain safety in Jules never having seen him, so he knew she liked him not because of how he looked, but because of who he was. And his technique of physical avoidance isn’t stopping them having a connection. Friday proved it, because when he saw Jules in Patricia’s office there was a definite connection, like a pull in his chest, a pull that only got stronger when he realised she was the woman from the phone. Clearly, he doesn’t have a wall. Though it would make sticking to his ‘don’t date colleagues’ thing easier if he did.
But considering he does have a connection with Jules, he’s banking on the conference and daily family commitments to help him keep his emotions on lockdown. And his hands to himself, because shit, the way he felt on Friday? He hadn’t felt desire—hell, any emotion—that strong in over a year.
He zips his suitcase closed with force. He’s focusing on the wrong things. Jules is making him feel and he needs to be shutting his emotions down if he’s going to get through coming face-to-face with his old colleagues. And his ex.
Chapter 4
When Jules’s alarm goes off at 6 am on Monday, she wakes regretting having told Cameron to pick her up from work. She could have slept more and she was having such a nice dream where Cameron was feeding her chocolate mousse.
She groans and rolls out of bed with the coordination of whatever the opposite of a ballerina is. It doesn’t help that it took her ages to fall asleep because she kept worrying about the three-hour car trip and what on earth she and Cameron were going to talk about. What if they can’t talk face to face? What if they end up talking about the weather? Or what if Cameron turns out to have no interests, or it’s something odd, like collecting tiny decorative spoons?
Jules arrives at the office three minutes early—a miracle considering the hour—but Cameron is there before her.
‘Good morning.’ He looks entirely awake and perfectly assembled and not even in need of a coffee, though he’s holding two. He’s clean-shaven today and the square cut of his jaw is somehow more distinguished without the stubble.
‘Morning.’ Urgh. Her voice sounds like she’s gotten too familiar with the bottom of a bottle of wine.
‘Not a morning person?’ Cameron asks.
Jules would reply with something witty if a) she had the brain power to think of something, b) she had the energy to say it, and c) she wasn’t distracted by noticing Cameron’s hair is still damp from a shower he would have been naked for.
She pinches herself. Despite what happened in Patricia’s office the other day, she’s not normally prone to sporadic indecent thoughts. Must be the poor sleep.
‘For me?’ She points to one of the coffees.
‘Yeah. It’s a cappuccino. Hope that’s alright. I remembered you mentioning it on the phone once.’
Her stomach goes momentarily weightless. ‘It’s my usual, yeah. Though any caffeine in the morning is great. Thanks.’
She takes it and guzzles a few mouthfuls.
‘I’m sorry,’ Cameron says. ‘I requested an early check-in for my own benefit. We could have met later.’
Jules groans. ‘You tell me this now?’
‘Sorry.’ Cameron grimaces and Jules has the urge to comfort him by placing her hand on one of his well-muscled arms, on display in another polo shirt.
‘No, it’s cool,’ she says, gripping her coffee tighter instead. ‘I could’ve paid more attention to the times on the schedule. But I’m here now and I’ve got caffeine.’ Jules inhales the precious scent of it to drive home her point, fluttering her eyes in ecstasy.
She stops that quickly. She doesn’t want to go thinking the word ‘ecstasy’ when she’s about to trap herself in a car with Cameron for hours.
Cameron leads her to a shiny silver hatchback in the company carpark and pops the boot. A black suitcase and a satchel bag already sit inside.
‘Here.’ He lifts her suitcase into the boot and she watches his biceps flex. It’s going to be a long week if even the routine lifting of a heavy object has her thoughts sliding into the gutter. Could he lift her? Press her against the car and—
Cameron slams the boot shut. Jules startles, biting her lip. A few minutes in and she’s having erotic thoughts, even though she purposefully avoided reading any more of her office erotica. She made a point of cramming the weekend with packing and planning and trying on outfits for Tori instead.
Her previous relationships have provided no precedent for handling this level of randy daydreaming. Even with Todd it was never like this.
‘Ready?’ Cameron heads for the driver’s side, sliding easily into the vehicle like he might slide—
