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I bumped his shoulder with mine. My gaze wandered toward the in-law portion of the home, the place he lived. I nodded toward it. “So that’s your domain, huh?”

He followed my line of sight. “Yes. I’ve only been there a few months. Used to live at a place in Ivy’s neighborhood. My mother never wanted me to live elsewhere, but I needed my own space. When Dad had the heart attack, I moved back to help them.”

“What a dutiful son,” I said. “Is it comfortable there at least?”

“Shepherds don’t know how to do anything but luxury.”

“Yes, I kind of noticed that.” I ran a hand over the lapel of his fine tuxedo to make a point.

Cam’s portion of the house was mostly dark, but a single light shone from an upstairs window. I pointed at it, silently questioning.

“That’s my bedroom,” he said. “Forgot to turn off the light because I was so eager to get to my date.”

I shot him a flirtatious smile. “Oh, yeah?”

“She’s a distracting woman,” he said, gaze growing more intense by the second.

My attention drifted again to the glowing window, and some brave creature took over my faculties…as well as my voice. “You want to show it to me?”

I could practically feel his sharp, assessing gaze on my face, so I turned to look at him. Our eyes met, and we both knew what I was really asking.

“You sure?” he asked.

I leaned forward to set a small kiss on his lips, soft and sweet, and pulled back to watch the flash of intense longing spark in his eyes and disappear.

“I’m positive,” I said.

Forty-Five

No one noticed as we slipped away from the lighted courtyard, hand-in-hand. The cloak of darkness hid our escape to the entrance of his home, though my heels clicked on the marble pavers that lined the walkway. At a door inset into a small vestibule, Cam pulled out his keys, then let us into an impressive home gym.

“Is this your living room?” I teased.

“Yes.” He pointed at the bench press. “That’s the sofa.”

I offered a sarcastic laugh.

He took my hand and lead me toward a staircase. “The living areas are upstairs.”

At the top, the space opened into a cozy open-concept living space with a kitchen at the far end. The walls boasted some fashionable, metallic design, and built-in shelves on multiple walls displayed books and knickknacks I desperately wanted to explore.

“My mother designed it, of course,” he said behind me as I wandered closer to a shelf of framed photos.

“She has lovely taste.” My gaze caught on a photo of him and his father at his college graduation.

He made a noncommittal sound. “She has feminine taste.”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“There is if you’re a single man bringing a woman into your home for the first time and feel compelled to explain that your mother decorated it.”

I laughed. “Fair enough.”

“Would you like a drink?”

“What’ve you got?” I zeroed in on a picture of him and Ivy in high school. God, I’d nearly forgotten what teenage Cam looked like. He had such a roguish smile. No wonder I was smitten.

“I have Honey.” He posed it like a question, and I smiled.