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Dalton: I’ll see you in an hour. Text me your address.
After parking my car in the section marked for visitors a little while later, I pulled the bottle of wine and our takeout from the passenger seat, then set out on foot to follow Cammie’s texted directions around the large condo complex. After making a left past a set of stairs, I saw the numbers 234 on a door and I headed for it.
Knocking quickly, I then shifted the items in my hands as I waited for her to let me in. When the door opened, the first thing I noticed, aside from her hazel eyes, was that her normally dark hair had a bunch of white flecks in it. Flour, maybe? And then the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies wafted at me.
Definitely flour. God, she was fucking adorable.
“Hi. Come in.” She smiled before reaching for the wine and reading the label. “This is nice, thank you. Do you hate that I didn’t want to go out?” she asked before heading down the hall.
I kicked the door closed with the heel of my shoe and followed behind her, drinking in the sight of her dressed casually in a white top and jeans. “I’m just happy to spend time with you, Cammie. I don’t care where we do it.”
This probably was a better idea, anyway. We still had a lot to talk about, and I had things I wanted to clear up before this went any further. I assumed she had the same thoughts and feelings. It would have been far less comfortable having this conversation in public, especially with constant interruptions by the wait staff.
When she set the wine on the kitchen counter, I placed our bags of takeout next to it, then reached around her waist and pulled her to me. Leaning down, I placed a kiss on her mouth, resisting the urge to rip off all her clothes and fuck her on the kitchen floor. Maybe I was a damn caveman, but clearly I was a caveman with restraint.
I reached for her hair, gently tugging at a strand with some white on it. “You have flour in your hair.”
“I do?” She grabbed the strand from my fingers and looked at it. “That’s embarrassing. I baked earlier. I made us cookies.”
“I know. I can smell them. I want to eat them all.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Not until after dinner, Mr. Thomas. I’ll be right back. And then I’ll give you the grand tour,” she said with a laugh before she disappeared into what I assumed was the bathroom.
Scanning the counter, I tried to locate the culprits. As I turned around, I noticed a plate stacked with chocolate chip cookies on the bar. I reached for one and took a giant chocolate-filled bite. It was heaven. My woman knew how to bake a cookie.
“Okay,” she called out, her voice startling me as I shoved the remaining piece of cookie into my mouth. “Oh my God, Dalton! Did you eat a cookie already?”
“I’m a grown man, damn it!” I mumbled as I swallowed, embarrassed at being caught. “I didn’t want to wait until after dinner.”
She laughed as she shook her head and groaned. “You’re such a child.”
“I’m sure you didn’t eat any cookie dough while you baked them, did you?”
“What kind of person would I be if I didn’t?”
“Exactly. So, don’t yell at me,” I said as I stuck my bottom lip out in a pretend pout.
“You’re in big trouble,” she teased, and I wanted to tell her that it was okay. I was willing to get in all sorts of trouble with her as long as she doled out the punishment.
“I think you’re the one who’s in trouble,” I teased back, and her cheeks flushed.
“Let me show you around. It’s pretty spacious, so try not to get lost.” Cammie giggled and I followed behind her, watching her ass swing back and forth in her jeans. “This is the kitchen. And the combination living room/dining room.” She waved her hand to indicate the large main area.
I glanced around at the space, noting the couch and a single recliner. Artwork on the walls looked like Italian landscapes, and candles were placed tastefully here and there in whatever the hell you called the candleholder shit thing. It wasn’t my thing, but I still found it pretty.
My gaze landed on an entertainment center that was a man’s dream. A giant flat-screen television sat surrounded by stereo equipment and speakers of all sizes. “How big is your TV? And do you seriously have surround sound in here?”
Cammie raised an eyebrow at me. “It’s fifty-six inches. And hell yes, I have surround sound. I love my electronics.”
My heart beat a little faster at her words. I would have married her right now simply based on that statement alone.
“Come on.” She beckoned for me to follow as she went back down the hallway toward the front door. After making a quick right, she waved her arm. “The bathroom is to the right and straight ahead is my room.”
I moved past her and entered her most private place without asking—her bedroom. While her condo wasn’t that large, her bedroom was pretty big. “Walk-in closet?” I asked, pointing at the closed door in the corner of the room.
“Yeah. It’s seriously huge in there. This place is so weird.” She walked over to the door and pulled it open.
Peering inside, I noticed that the closet looked custom made, with built-in shelving for shoes and whatever othe
