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Laughing, we made our way to the rental car. At the curb, I spun her to face me and molded our bodies together. I couldn’t hold off kissing her a moment longer.
“I’ve wanted this since I tasted you last.” Dipping my head, I took her mouth. At first, the kiss was soft and delicate, easing us toward the blistering passion we shared with slow deliberation. I teased and nipped as she parted her lips, her tongue caressing mine. The kiss lengthened, growing intense. Hotter. Harder.
She pressed her body to me from lips to pelvis, and I cradled her ass in my hands, my growing erection between us. We were fused together in an utterly carnal embrace. A kiss for the ages. I lost focus. The outside world was a forgotten nuisance. Cameron became my universe.
“Aww, aren’t you two sweet?” Wanda’s exclamation slashed through our beautiful haze of desire with the shock of a cattle prod.
We jumped apart; I steadied Cameron when she stumbled slightly on her tall shoes.
Wanda and a plump, panting bulldog stood on the sidewalk. She juggled a roll of doggy poop bags as she shoved her cell phone into her fanny pack.
“Hi Wanda, how’s Dwight?” Cameron asked, her face bright red.
“He’s a good boy, as always. I see you got your car back, Mr. Phillips.” Wanda jutted her chin at the rental.
“Yes, thanks for the ride.”
“Thank you for the twenty-five percent tip.” The older lady winked at me with more sass than Bailey, the action magnified by her cat-eye glasses. “Y’all have fun on your date this evening.” She and the dog trotted off at a gait that was neither a shuffle nor a jog, but some mix of the two.
“Oh, sweet baby Jesus. She took photos, or worse, video.” Cameron dropped her head in her hands.
“Meh, how bad can it be?”
“She runs an Elmer gossip page on every social media channel ever invented.” Cameron was clearly in a panic, her voice far too vulnerable. I itched to tip her chin up and force her to look at me so I could better gauge the situation, but she only had eyes for her cell phone.
I helped Cameron into the car with a dawning realization that something had gone horribly wrong on our date, and we hadn’t even left her house yet.
The ride to the restaurant was unnaturally quiet. Cameron’s thumbs flew over the phone as she scoured the web for the video of us kissing. Her level of anxiety grew every time she refreshed her social media feeds.
By the time I settled a hand on Cameron’s waist and steered her after the hostess at Bowie’s, I wanted to snatch her phone from her and toss it in a passing server’s water pitcher.
Locals and tourists looking for a special night out in Elmer mostly picked Bowie’s, the high-end steakhouse located across from the courthouse on the main square. It had excellent steaks, a vast wine cellar, and meticulous service.
They’d named the restaurant in honor of James Bowie, famous for the eponymous knife and his role in the Texas Revolution. The decor radiated Texas chic, from the polished local pecan wood paneling to the massive stone fireplace. A huge mural of grazing longhorns adorned a wall in the bar, and an antler chandelier the size of a Volkswagen beetle dominated the dining room.
I’d eaten here on my first trip to Elmer and thought it the ideal place for Cameron and me to enjoy a night out on the town as a couple. If we were doing this dating/relationship thing, we’d do it right. Dinner at the best place in town. But instead of romance and longing gazes, all I had seen tonight since Wanda caught us kissing was the top of Cameron’s head, bent over a cell phone.
“Can we have that booth over there?” She pointed to a table in the farthest, dimmest corner of the restaurant.
“Sure.” The hostess shrugged, not seeming to care one whit where she dumped us.
I’d yet to regain the love of the town. Bunco was only the start of my penance, so I’d expected the cold shoulder from the waitstaff. The same happened at the grocery store and the coffee shop.
I waited for Cameron to slide into the dark booth and sat next to her. The hostess dropped our menus on the table with a thunk and slunk away without lighting the candle that sat next to the small vase of flowers on the white tablecloth.
“So, she is charming.” I jutted my chin toward the woman.
“That’s Alice. Her family has been in Elmer for three generations. She’s probably not your biggest fan.” Cameron craned her neck to check out who else was dining at Bowie’s tonight, then shrunk back into the corner in the darkest part of the shadow thrown by the twelve-point buck mounted overhead. Her cell opened to a social media app.
I took her phone without ceremony or apology.
“Care to fill me in on what is going on?”
She froze, her hand still curved to grip the device. “I’m sorry. It’s—“ She blinked and shook her head like she’d woken from a trance.
“Cameron, do we need to leave? You’re freaking me out a little.”
Her tense, self-deprecating laugh bruised something deep in my chest. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders to offer support.
