Page 69 of Catastrophe Queen


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There was something disconcerting about it.

I slid into my chair right as the phone rang again. I answered, then winced at the voice on the end. It was Cynthia Carlton, and even Cameron could hear her through the speaker.

Slowly, he backed toward the kitchen, ready to get our coffees instead.

“No, he’s available,” I said brightly, grinning at him. “Let me put you on hold, and I’ll patch you through.”

“Thank you, darling!”

I put her on hold and grinned, stretching my arm out. “It’s for youuuuu.”

“Note to self,” he muttered as he approached me. “Don’t play dirty at work.”

***

“I have to say that I’m proud of you,” Cameron said, handing me a glass of wine.

“You are?” I looked up from my spot on the sofa. “Why?”

He sat down and gently rested my sore foot on his lap. “You couldn’t walk and you didn’t mess anything up.”

“Yeah, I think it’s because I have to be careful. Also, finding out your mother is a closet klutz might have inspired something inside me.”

“Number one on things not to say to a guy you’re dating.” He slid his gaze to me. “I assume we’ve moved past the “It’s just one date,” line by now?”

“Have we had more than one date?”

“We’ve had two.”

I leaned over and put my wine on the coffee table. “Technically, we’ve had several.”

He frowned, resting one arm over the back of the sofa. “How have we had several?”

I started counting them off on my fingers. “You could count the mixer as one. Dinner as another. Technically the golf counts, even if it did have a tragic end.”

“The Oscars are ready for your nomination, madam.”

I poked my tongue out at him. “And all the times you’ve been at my house this week, plus tonight.”

“Wait. You’re counting the last few days as dates?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You brought food, we spent time together, and there was a lot of kissing. Sounds like a good date to me.”

He scratched his jaw. “I’m starting to think that you’ll date anyone who brings you food.”

“In a New York minute.”

Laughing, he reached over and toyed with a lock of my hair. “All right, so that’s what? Six dates?”

“Seven.”

He shifted, being careful not to hurt me. “Do we really have to count lying in your bed watching serial killer docs as a date? It doesn’t sound like a date.”

Whoa. They were fighting words.

“Okay, whoa.” I held up my hands. “If you don’t think nachos and serial killer documentaries make for a perfect date, I don’t think I can be in a relationship with you.”

He snatched my hands, linking our fingers together, then moved up the sofa so I was practically sitting on his lap. His lips were twitching as he tried to hide a laugh, and I stared at him with my eyebrows raised.

“I never said it wasn’t a perfect date, even though you do argue with me when I’m right about the murders being stupid.”

“That’s your opinion, and in my opinion, it’s wrong.”

He licked his lips, not bothering to hide his smile this time. “I didn’t plan for any of that to be a date. Honestly, I just liked lying there with you, watching TV, doing absolutely nothing. No expectations, no deep talks about the future.”

“We did discuss me murdering you for your fortune and your life insurance.”

Cameron paused, then wrapped his arms around me and held me against his body. “How long do I get you before you kill me?”

“Depends when we have children. Ideally, I’d like them to be adults so I can find myself a toyboy and run off to a private island.”

He buried his face in my hair, his whole body shaking with his laughter.

“You won’t be laughing when you’re dead,” I whispered dramatically.

It only made him laugh harder. He had the most infectious laugh. It was naturally deep but happy, and he was the kind of person who could start a Mexican wave of laughter.

“Is it wrong that I prefer this over the dinner we just had?” he asked quietly, pushing hair from my face so he could see me. “Maybe we have had seven dates.”

I shrugged one shoulder and picked a little fluff off his white t-shirt. “The best dates are the ones that don’t feel like dates at all. Sure, you can get dressed up and go to a fancy restaurant, or the movies, or whatever else people do when they date, but how much do you learn about a person? You can’t talk if you’re in the movie theater. You spend half a dinner date with food in your mouth. Bars are loud and busy. I’ve learned far more about you in the last few days just by lying and doing nothing with you than I would have if we went out.”

“It’s also a lot safer.”

“That is an added bonus, yes.” I smiled.

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