The authorities evacuated the West while refugees overran the East.
His family didn’t want any of the chaos to touch xTerra, their haven and home.
Cam combed his clean, wet hair, wishing he could live somewhere else, even if he suspected xTerra might be a beacon of hope and a way to restart society. Sitting this out made him feel like a slacker. But maybe he shouldn’t go back permanently. After all, Lissa was thriving out here beyond the walls. It was possible. Plus, his family would hardly notice. Still, he couldn’t disappear without a trace—too much like his father.
He gripped the counter on both sides of the sink, staring into the mirror with the staggering idea of a permanent move. He had to return and let them know his plans. Maybe he could find an isolated place like Lissa had. Somewhere, he could secure and grow food. Somewhere, he wouldn’t be called a traitor for doing the right thing.
His mind flashed back to the Clarks. Letting them inside xTerra and kicking off the takeover by the new Council had been worth it, no matter his mother’s words. Isolated, xTerra might end up a fortress alone in the wilderness, and he didn’t want to be trapped inside forever.
A knock at the bathroom door jolted him back to the present. “Everything okay?”
“Just getting dressed.” Cam slipped on a black Henley and buckled his belt. He glanced around the bathroom and hung his towel on the rack next to a green one. The clean clothes, shave, and hot water helped him feel a thousand times better. More like himself.
When he emerged from the bathroom, Lissa knelt by the fireplace again, a griddle over the embers. The tantalizing aroma of cooking filled the air. His mouth watered as he watched her flip four medium round pancakes. Their tops were perfect, golden brown. He immediately catalogued something to look for in his someday house. A wood-burning stove for cooking and heat. He would hate to crouch or kneel while preparing food. His knees ached just watching Lissa. Still, her overall setup was sweet.
“Sit down,” she said, waving her flipper. “You need to stay off your foot.”
Cam sat at the table again, and soon, she set a plate with the stack of pancakes in front of him. Up close, the sweet vanilla scent was overwhelming.
“I don’t need all these.” His stomach growled as though to argue.
Without looking at him, she ladled another batch onto her griddle. “I doubled the batter. These are for you. Mine are next. You should eat them while they’re hot.”
Once the second round was cooking, she set a small jar on the table. “I ran out of syrup, but my homemade jam is decent.”
Cam scooped a spoonful of the bright red jam onto his first pancake. He rolled it like a tube, picking it up to eat. His eyes fluttered closed at the first bite and flavor explosion. He seldom ate anything sweet, and it rocked his world. Her jam wasn’t just okay, it was fantastic.
“Thanks for breakfast. It’s terrific,” he said when she sat across the table with her plate of pancakes. She sat with one knee up, leaning back in her chair as if to maintain an extra foot of distance. Like him, she rolled her pancake, but unlike him, she used cutlery to eat. When she finished her first, she swiped an extra glob of jam off her plate. He couldn’t take his eyes off her when she licked her finger to get the last iota. Not wanting to make her uncomfortable, he was careful not to be obvious as his gaze lingered.
Now that he was feeling better, he couldn’t help but notice Lissa was sexy as fuck, with unblemished skin, full red lips, and those amazing eyes. They weren’t the standard brown or hazel. Amber or whiskey were the closest comparisons. Plus, something about seeing the bones where her collarbones met in front and the knobs by her wrists turned him on. While slim and petite, she still had subtle curves, so she must eat okay. She took care of herself. He didn’t say anything else until she finished, just went back to eating the delicious meal.
A few times, he felt the warm, prickly sensation of being watched, but kept his eyes down for her inspection. Maybe she wasn’t sure what to make of him, either.
“What would you be doing this morning if I hadn’t woken you up early and barged in?” He kept his voice low, so she wasn’t startled.
Her head jerked up. Perhaps he was mistaken, and she’d forgotten about him for her own thoughts.
Her gaze met his. “The blizzard limits my options. Probably lose myself in a book or two. Maybe crochet. Make soup for dinner.” She’d done well to find supplies to occupy her quiet time.
Trapped inside with a fractured foot and nothing to do, Cam might climb the walls. He’d finished his book three times since leaving home. “Do you have something I can read? Mine’s done.” Reading was all he’d been able to do for the last three days.
She waved her hands toward her bookshelf, packed chock-full of battered paperbacks. Something else she must have scavenged a few at a time, as books were heavy. Foresight must have gone into her collection, another sign she wasn’t just surviving, but thriving. “What do you like? Historical fiction, romance, thrillers? I’ll grab something so you can sit.”
“I’ll read whatever. Surprise me,” he said. Anything different would be great. While he lovedThe Lord of the Rings, he needed a change.
A twinkle appeared in her amber eyes, though the countenance of her face remained the same. Her expressions were there, just understated. He had to watch closely to see minute changes. Except when she blushed. That was obvious. If she’d always been like this, she might have been difficult to get to know. Or perhaps she was closed off from living alone. Time would tell. A powerful urge to get to know her better swept over him. Only then could he batter down her reserve to see the side of her she kept private.
If Cam had money, he’d bet she would give him a romance, given her amusement.
“Why don’t you get settled on the couch?” She waved to the large sectional at the side of the room. A double-thick deck of cards and a pile of yarn sat beside the near end on an end table.
Cam hopped to the couch and sat at the far end, facing into the room. With his leg stretched out in front of him, there was still room for her to sit near her belongings.
“Try this,” she said, handing him a colorful book.Book Loversby Emily Henry.
“Thank you,” he said, trying not to smile at having called the genre. He started reading, becoming engrossed in the clever writing. Big-city woman stuck in a small town and not loving it. He liked a good romance and twisted trope as much as the next man, especially if it had sexy bits.
After washing the dishes and packing the griddle, Lissa collected her yarn and relocated to her bed. He watched, obsessing over her collarbones again as she straightened the covers, then sat cross-legged on the turquoise flowered duvet cover. For over an hour, she crocheted, her delicate wrists mesmerizing as she churned out several rows on whatever she was making. Perhaps another blanket.
