And the funny thing is, I don’t see Cam that way at all. He may be Walker James, but he’s just Cam the laid-back ranch hand in my mind. He wouldn’t let me help clear the dishes, insisting that I sit outside and watch the sunset. The breeze is warm, and this part of the Texas Hill Country is beautiful. There’s open land as far as the eye can see, right up into the hills.
“How’re the boys doing?” Cameron’s grin is infectious, so I return it.
“They’re great. Kate’s giving them a bath before hitting the books.” She’s in graduate school at Cobalt Ridge, living with my mother until she graduates. She’s thinking about moving abroad, which I fully support. Until then, it’s nice to live in the same house.
“I was sad they didn’t come, but I’m glad I got a little snuggle time before we headed over.”
Kasen brought Cam a book and crawled in his lap, so Cam read one of the Grumpy Monkey books, doing great voices. About two pages in, Mason joined his brother, and Cam didn’t skip a beat, even when Kasen said “agin!” He read it three times.
Cam pulls up a song on his phone. “Dance with me.”
I stand, and he pulls me in, the perfect gentleman. He’s been that way all evening, to be honest. No kisses. No innuendos. Just laughter and great conversation. He asked about my job, listening intently as I described the project my students have been working on. When I asked him about the song he was working on, he said he’d play it before I leave.
“Thank you for eating dinner with me.” His words are low, whispered against my temple as we dance.
“Thank you for inviting me.”
We dance to a slow Ed Sheeran tune, our bodies melding together seamlessly. I breathe him in, the cedar and spice mixing with the Hill Country air. It’s almost like time pauses just for us as we say, heat from his chest seeps through my dress. Yes, I own dresses. It’s a black boho mini that I’ve paired with my brown Docs. They look almost western, which is why I got them.
I decide it’s time. “I understand why you didn’t tell me your full name.”
He stops and tips my chin with a knuckle. “It was a mistake.”
I shake my head. “Not a mistake, just self-preservation. I might know something about that.”
He holds up his hand. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He steps inside and heads to his guitar case, pulling out the same one he had at Wild Vista. His phone rings, and he pops his head out the open door. “I’ve really got to take this. Shouldn’t be more than a minute or two.”
“Of course.”
His smile of regret warms my heart as he takes the call. I don’t mean to listen, but he’s not exactly a quiet man.
“Hey, Jules.” He holds the guitar by its neck, his back straightening. “Already? Monday works. Are you going to be at the ranch for the inspection? Fantastic.” He looks over at me. “Can we schedule it for after three? Alright. See you then.”
He steps outside and sits on the outdoor couch, motioning me to sit next to him. “Um, so are you available Monday at 3:00?”
“School ends at 2:30, so yes, but I have to pick up the boys by four.”
He rubs his hands together. “Bring them with you. I’d love for y’all to see it together.”
“I don’t know, Cam. You live in Tulsa. I know they’ve enjoyed you, but I don’t want them to get attached.”
“I’m moving to a ranch in the area. I’m setting down roots here.”
I back up, feeling a little stifled. “Why here?”
He chuckles, so I kick at his shin, but he grabs my booted foot and holds it steady on his lap. “My record label is here, so I’m in town a lot, anyway. My condo in Tulsa isn’t working anymore. I’ve already listed it. My parents have plenty of room for when we visit.”
“We?”
“That’s the other reason. You’re it for me, Prickly Pear. You’re the home I didn’t know I needed, and I know that’s not going to change. So living near Indigo Hills makes sense.”
It’s a sharp second of pure silence between us before he closes the distance, the air thick with heat. Cam’s mouth covers mine—hot and shameless, tasting of sweet tea and trouble. I press back, hard enough that the scrape of his stubble shoots a live wire up my spine. The kiss turns molten, his hands gripping my back so hard that the skirt of my mini dress rides up.
“Let’s go to your bedroom.”
“Whah?” His eyes search mine. “That’s not why I brought you here. We are months from that.”
“We are minutes from that, Cameron Walker James. Now where’s your bedroom.”
