Cami’s eyes were wide and attentive as she accepted the wine, but her only response was a slow nod. She didn’t ask follow up questions or try to probe. Nor did she react with gasps of shock or dismay. She just looked like something in her mind had clicked into place.
It was best to get Sam out of there before she started spilling all his secrets. He doubted Cami would be down for any more toy review if she found out he was after the store.
“All right, Sam, that’s enough. The veggies taste the same no matter how you chop them.”
“Just trying to help,” she insisted, though she laid the knife down and let him shoo her toward the hallway. “You never bring anybody home, God forbid we try to impress one when you do.”
“Out. I’ll see you next week. Goodbye.”
He returned to the adjoining kitchen and dining room, casting a sheepish smile in Cami’s direction. “Sorry about that. Sam’s sweet, but she sometimes talks too much.”
Cami shrugged. “It’s fine. Your life is your business. I’m not going to pry.” At her assurance, a knot of tension in his shoulders began to release.
“I appreciate it. I just prefer to keep the past in the past.”
“Understood.” After taking a sip from her wine, she pushed her chair back from the table. “Do you need a hand finishing dinner? Unlike some people, I do know how to chop vegetables.”
“If you like.” He let his lips slide into a smirk of promise as he watched her. “Though I’d prefer you save your energy for later.”
She smiled and cast her eyes down at her knees, like she was embarrassed she found him charming. Amusement andaffection flooded through him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever found someone adorable and sexy at the same time before, and the sensation confused him. Madilyn had been sexy, sure, but so serious. Everything she did, every word that came out of her mouth, was calculated for maximum sex appeal. Cami was reactive in such a genuine way that he doubted anyone would believe she calculated anything she did. In his life, that was such a rare quality that spending time with her was unexpectedly refreshing.
She opted to help him set the plates and carry everything to the table. He accepted the help; the faster they got through dinner, the sooner they could enjoy dessert. But as they settled at the table across from each other, Des rolling the stem of his wine glass between his fingers, it was easy to allow himself the distraction of her conversation.
“So I know you’ve only lived in Santa Monica for a year. Where were you before that?”
She gave a small, one-shouldered shrug as she sliced into her steak. “A little town in Tennessee.”
“Tennessee?” He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it hadn’t been somewhere so far away. He was vaguely impressed. “That’s the other side of the country, Cami. That’s a hell of a move for someone to make spontaneously.”
She seemed to take his surprise as a compliment. Her cheeks flushed with a combination of the wine and her pleasure. “Santa Monica was the only place that made sense at the time.”
“That’s odd,” he said, and she glanced up at him with curiosity. He smiled. “I don’t think anyone’s ever said California makes sense before.”
She returned his smile, but hers was more thoughtful, and her head tilted in consideration. “I...was under the impression I have family here.”
It was such an odd way to phrase a simple statement that he was taken aback. For several beats, he said nothing as her words sank in. She arched one sleek, blonde eyebrow at him.
“Sorry, just—was that not true?”
She gave a little sigh that sounded almost wistful. “I guess I’m not sure? It’s kind of a weird story.”
“We have kind of a weird arrangement,” he countered. He hoped his smile was as supportive as he tried for. “I’ll listen if you want to tell me.”
“It’s not a big secret or anything. Lenny knows. It’s just... I grew up with my grandmother. My mom’s mom. She raised me after my mom and grandfather died in a car wreck when I was little.” He opened his mouth to offer condolences, but she waved him off. “You don’t have to apologize. It was shitty, but it was a long time ago. Anyway, my dad was never in the picture. He ran off after my mom got pregnant. They were teenagers at the time, and both lived here in Santa Monica. When he bailed, she dropped out of school and moved back to Tennessee to be with her parents.”
“I see.” He kept his tone careful as he tried to follow her logic. “So you came back here looking for your dad?”
“Yes. My grandmother died about... I guess it was about a year and a half ago.” Contrary to how she’d talked about her mother’s death, now Cami’s voice was thick with grief, and the shine started to glisten in her eyes. “It seems like so long ago now, like I’ve been in Santa Monica for years. But she was my last tie to Tennessee, and I didn’t have any family left— none worth talking about anyway.” When she interrupted herself, he could have sworn her voice turned curiously bitter, but the tone was gone when she continued. “So I figured I’d come here. Where it started. Where I started. Maybe I could find my dad, find out what kind of man he was.” She drew in a long, deep breath, then let it out slowly. “That’s how I met Lenny. The onlyaddress I had for my dad was her apartment. I turned up on her doorstep asking for him, and here we are.”
Silence stretched between them as he absorbed her story. “That’s...quite a story.”
“It is,” she chuckled. “Sorry. It’s not the kind of story you want to use as foreplay.”
He wanted to reach across the table, to take her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. But when he lifted his arm, she pulled her hand off the table and placed it on her lap. Her little smile didn’t waver, so maybe she just hadn’t noticed his motion. Or maybe that much intimacy was a no-no for them. He shouldn’t have asked about any of this. Their arrangement was the definition of superficial; they didn’t need to know anything about each other, and it was shitty of him to ask her to open up when he’d shut down her curiosity about his med school drama.
And that was to say nothing of his blatant lies and subterfuge.
Fuck, he was a dick.
