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She fidgets, and unable to sit still, she gets up and walks to the kitchen. “Are you hungry? What do you feel like eating?”
I rise to my feet and follow her. She’s clearly nervous, and I hate it. I want her comfortable around me.
“I can make something healthy. Do you eat fish?” she keeps rambling.
I come up behind her, and when she turns around and sees how close I am, she bounces back. “Jesus.” Her hand flies to her chest, covering her heart.
The urge to touch and comfort her almost overwhelms me, but I fist my hands at my sides.
My jaw clenches, and the words come out sounding harsher than I meant. “Don’t be nervous around me.”
Camille nods while taking a step back. She glances around the kitchen, then darts to the fridge. “So, what do you feel like eating?”
You can’t touch her.
“Anything,” I answer, my body burning to move closer to her.
“A tuna salad?” Her head pops into the fridge. “I have salmon.” She takes it out and inspects the packet. “Nope, it expired.”
“Camille,” I say to get her attention because she’s clearly panicking and rambling about food.
“Shoot, I don’t know what to cook. Maybe we can order in?”
“Camille,” I try again, so she’ll look at me.
Shutting the fridge’s door, she heads to the pantry and disappears inside.
Christ.
I follow after her, and when I fill the space between the doorjambs, effectively cornering her, her teeth start to worry her bottom lip. Her eyes dart to my face, giving me a pleading look.
Finally, she admits, “I’m trying not to be nervous. It’s just…” she waves a hand over me, “you’re intimidating. It’s one thing thinking you’re just a broody person, but it’s another knowing you’re actually a killing machine.”
Again the urge to comfort her surges through my body, and I take a step forward. “What can I do to make you feel better?”
She shakes her head and quickly nudges some hair behind her ear. “I really trust you’ll keep me safe. I think I just need to get used to the idea that you’re not an… ordinary man.”
I take another step closer, placing my body inches from hers, then I repeat my question, “What can I do to make you feel better?”
She has to tilt her head back to lock eyes with me.
An electric current with enough force to power a nuclear weapon surges to life between us.
Her lips part, and she whispers, “I don’t know.”
The air tenses around us, and unable to fight the need I have to comfort her, I slowly lift my hand to the side of her neck. When she doesn’t flinch or pull away, I take another step, closing the last of the distance between us.
This is so fucking out of character for me, and it makes my heartbeat speed up as I move cautiously to wrap my arms around her.
My fingers slip into her silky hair as I cup the back of her head while my other arm locks her to me.
For a moment, we both stand frozen on the spot, then Camille pushes closer to me and rests her cheek on my chest. I feel her hands on my sides before her arms circle my lower back.
I lean my head down until her hair tickles my jaw. “You’re safe with me, Cami. I’ll never do anything to hurt you or put you in harm's way. Understand?”
She nods, then I feel her body relax. She hugs me tighter. “Thank you for taking a break from killing people to keep me safe.”
A burst of laughter escapes me, and pulling back, I let go of her. “You’re welcome.”
