Page 10 of Freeing Camila (Condor’s Overwatch #1)
CHAPTER 9
Little Victories Bucket List No. 17: Walk on the wild side
She was so far out of her comfort zone, it wasn't funny. Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her ribs, and a cold sweat slicked her palms, leaving them clammy and trembling. She grasped his hand, the rough texture a stark contrast to the clammy sweat on her palms, and a nervous laugh, tight and brittle, was all she could offer.
But after her rescue, she’d promised herself to live life to the fullest, embracing every new adventure with open arms and a sense of thrilling anticipation. Taking a deep breath, she followed him to the dance floor with Eggs cryptically calling out, “You’re welcome.”
They managed to find space amongst the other dancers, who were enthusiastically performing the dance steps. They squeezed between the others, the rhythmic beat of the music vibrating through the floor and up into their bodies. The air was alive with the energy of the dancers, a powerful current that pulsed around her, while a potent mixture of sweat, perfume, and beer sharply filled her nostrils.
A heady sense of excitement and anticipation washed over her as she took her place next to Wade. He towered over her, a looming figure whose size was almost overwhelming, yet she felt inexplicably safe in his presence. The man was a mountain of muscle and bone; despite his imposing stature, a sense of calm radiated from him, reassuring her and calming her nervousness. A scent of woodsmoke and leather clung to him, pulling her in, but it was the surprising gentleness in his eyes that captivated her and held her attention completely.
“So this is an easy one. Just match my steps,” he instructed. She watched his feet as he moved through the first steps of the dance. Her body felt stiff as she tried to follow him. “Relax,” he urged.
“I’m trying,” she muttered as she fumbled one of the steps. She stumbled and lost her balance, tripping over her own feet, and was only saved from a fall by his quick reaction to catch her. Her nerves intensified, as did embarrassment. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this; the doubts crept into her mind like insidious whispers, filling her with uncertainty. Obviously, the necessary skills needed for this endeavor eluded her. The initial bravery she experienced when Wade took her hand to lead her to the dance floor was now dissipating, replaced by a rising tide of anxiety.
“You can do this,” Wade encouraged. “One step at a time.”
One step at a time. It was words she’d told herself countless times as she recovered from her abduction. There had been days when she didn’t think she’d make it through. The odds of coming out of what happened to her as a healthy, well-adjusted individual seemed stacked against her. That’s when her new friends rallied around her. Elodie and the others gave her the courage to continue―one step at a time.
Wade’s words settled inside her. She could do this. She concentrated on his steps, occasionally looking at the other dancers until something clicked. With each footfall echoing in the space, the repetitive nature of the steps became clear to her. Grasping the moves finally, her joy overflowed, and bursts of laughter punctuated her movements. She let go of her worries and anxieties, feeling the tension melt away as she fully immersed herself in the moment and enjoyed the simple pleasure of being carefree.
With Wade’s steady support, she felt like she could float across the dance floor, his hands in hers a comforting presence. The music flowed around them and she lost herself in the rhythm. When she faltered, they laughed it off, and he was there to catch her each time. She’d never felt so free.
When the music changed to something soft and lyrical, Wade smoothly swept her into his arms and she went willingly. She melted into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. The music filled the air as he held her, one hand resting on her hip, his other hand firmly grasping hers. They swayed rhythmically as one, their movements perfectly timed to the music.
Cammie tilted her head up, a shy smile playing on her lips as she met his gaze. “Thanks for this,” she said, then laughed. “Seems like I’m always indebted to you.”
His smile, a flash of white teeth against tanned skin, made her heart skip a beat. “Nah. No thanks needed. It’s what friends do.”
Friends. The word caused her to pause unexpectedly. The simple act of him calling her “friend” left her feeling surprisingly deflated, and she couldn’t quite understand why his choice of words had such a negative impact on her. They’d met only recently. Sure, she was wildly attracted to him, but she couldn’t expect him to feel the same. That wouldn’t be fair to him.
But as she moved in rhythm with his strong body, a longing filled her, a yearning for something more profound and lasting than this shared dance. Growing into adulthood in her father’s cold world, she often wondered what it would be like to know that someone found her captivating and desirable. To be so attractive to someone that their attention was focused solely on her. What would it mean to have her company eagerly sought, her words hung on with rapt attention? That her presence brightened someone’s day, and her laughter was music to their ears? During her loneliest days, the idea of it had haunted her dreams, a bittersweet comfort against the gnawing emptiness. She’d harbored a secret, persistent wish for it to happen to her. Longed for a love where she would be cherished and seen as irreplaceable, the center of someone’s universe.
But that had been a whimsical fantasy, a flight of fancy, as was this current, disheartening reality. She needed to rein in her expectations and not allow herself to get carried away by wishful thinking. She could always use another friend.
With a forced lightness in her tone, she uttered the words, “Friends, huh?”, attempting to mask the underlying disappointment she felt. “Is that what we are?”
He shrugged. “Sure. I guess.”
Her response, a sardonic “Well, that was reassuring,” followed by a dramatic roll of her eyes, perfectly captured her feelings of disappointment.
He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, oblivious to her mounting frustration. “Hey. I taught you to dance. If that doesn’t make me a friend, then I don’t know what does.”
Her smile was tight as she glanced up at him. “Fair enough.” What else could she say? A dull weight settled in her stomach; she’d been friend-zoned, the unspoken truth hanging heavy between them. A hollow, empty feeling replaced the hope she’d felt at the thought.
Oh well. It was a nice dream while it lasted.
Deciding to just go with it, she let herself fall into the sway of the dance. She wound her arms around his neck and nestled her head against his chest. The music swelled and shifted from one slow song to another. A sigh of wishful thinking escaped her lips as his hand moved from her waist, caressing her back, pulling her closer; his touch sent shivers down her spine.
She moved her hands across his shoulders―his incredibly strong and broad shoulders. Shoulders that seemed like they could withstand a great amount of weight. The thought of transferring the enormous weight of her burdens to another person crossed Cammie’s mind, making her wonder what it would feel like to have such a load lifted. She imagined a man like Wade could shoulder it with no effort.
But again. That was just wishful thinking. He’d probably be horrified if he learned the truth about her. Her history was marked by trauma and pain, casting a long shadow over her present. Who in their right mind would want to help shoulder that nightmare?
Perhaps he made the right call by putting her in the friend zone. No one could handle her level of damage. At least no one in their right mind.
With a renewed sense of her place in the world, she settled into the rhythmic sway of the dance, a smile spread across her face as she let go and simply enjoyed herself. Fully immersing herself in the dance, the music became a soothing balm to her soul.
She was trying to concentrate on the lyrics, but the feelings that flooded her as their bodies moved in such close proximity, were difficult to ignore. The physical sensations of their bodies moving as one were overwhelming, and she wished with all her might that she could push them from her mind and ignore them completely.
But she could feel everything.
Each movement of his hand across her back, the muscles flexing beneath her cheek. The warmth of his other hand surrounding hers, which he had pulled close to his chest. Each brush of his chest against hers, causing a tingle to rush through her body, and her nipples to respond inadvertently. Of all the days not to wear a bra. Since she was not well-endowed in the chest area, a bra was unnecessary and her sweater was not designed to accommodate one. Consequently, she was acutely aware of the friction of his muscles against her sensitive nipples, a sensation that sent shivers down her spine.
His long legs, a stark contrast to her own shorter ones, grazed against hers rhythmically as he expertly led her through the intricate steps of the dance. His thighs flexed and tightened with each movement he made. With the music gaining momentum, he spun them around using his muscular thigh, positioning her in a way that almost led to her straddling it. She felt that in deep, dark places.
Places she wished she didn’t feel it. She wished she could control her body’s reaction whenever their forms touched. Wished her nipples wouldn’t react so strongly every time their chests met. She wished her panties weren’t drenched. Every time his hand brushed against her spine, she wished with all her might that the frantic, insistent hammering of her heart against her ribs would cease. She wished the dull, heavy ache in her chest would ease.
She wished for a lot of useless things.
The perfectly timed change to a more upbeat tempo in the music rescued her from the depths of her melancholy before she could fully surrender to it. The change in the music to something more upbeat was precisely what was needed. As was the way Wade twirled her, rotating her outward before gracefully bringing her back into his embrace. She let out a peal of laughter, the sound bubbling up from deep within.
With a driving beat and soaring vocals, the band’s honky tonk rendition of “Wild Thing” was an infectious melody that lifted her spirits. The fun was amplified as Wade playfully twirled her around the dance floor, adding a touch of whimsy to the dance. She let it consume her and banish the melancholy she’d felt earlier.
As the final notes of the song faded and the band members took a well-deserved break, she realized that she was parched. Wade led her back to the bar, where he ordered water for the both of them. Having finally quenched her thirst with a long drink of water, he took her hand and, with an encouraging smile, said, “Come on. I want to introduce you to some people.”
He led her to the table where Eggs and the rest of the group of men he’d come into the bar with sat. She felt the weight of their appraising stares as she drew closer, each face a mask of silent assessment. The nervousness returned, causing her to feel incredibly awkward and self-conscious. She plastered on a smile, hoping to hide the tremor in her hands and the frantic beat of her heart. She’d been around men like this for most of her life. Men who’d worked for her father. The alpha type who thought they were better than everyone else. None of them had been nice. A wave of icy fear washed over her, leaving her breathless at that thought.
With the same ease and brutality that her father’s men had previously demonstrated, Cammie knew instinctively that these men possessed the capability to inflict upon her an equally devastating level of harm. Panic seized her; she wanted to flee in the opposite direction, but Wade’s firm grip on her hand stopped her.
Pausing next to the rough-hewn wooden table, Wade gestured toward the group of men with a sweeping wave of his hand. “Cammie, meet the guys. My coworkers. Guys, meet Cammie.”
“Well, it’s about time you brought this little lady over to meet us,” the one Wade introduced as Hoot said.
“Yeah. About time you stopped hogging the prettiest lady in the place,” said Eggs with a wink.
A blush, hot and intense, rose in her chest and spread up across her face. “Take it easy, guys,” Wade admonished.
Voodoo, another name she was curious about, asked. “You’re new to town, right? How are you settling in?”
“Great. I really like it here. Especially now that I have a job.”
“She works at the bakery,” Wade announced, a certain pride coloring his tone, though she couldn’t fathom why.
“Mrs. Lenzer’s eclairs are to die for,” Eggs sighed with a wistful expression. He licked his lips, as though he could already taste the eclairs he was talking about.
“I haven’t tried those yet. Getting her coffee business running smoothly has consumed all my time. It’s been a whirlwind of ordering supplies, perfecting recipes, and setting up the new equipment I talked her into buying.”
“Wait. I’ve heard about you,” Voodoo said. “Haley’s been raving about the improvements in Flour Power’s coffees.”
“Haley works with us, too,” Wade murmured, his warm breath ghosting across her neck, sending shivers down her spine and a flutter to her stomach.
Eggs next words pulled her out of her daze caused by the man standing beside her. “So, I’ve been wondering. You’re what? Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?”
“Twenty-nine,” she replied.
“Right. So what prompted a grown woman like you to climb a tree?”
That ever-present blush, a faint rose just beneath the surface, bloomed once more, warming her cheeks. “Just something I wanted to do.”
“Why?”
She searched for an answer that wouldn’t reveal too much about her nightmarish past. “I, um, had kind of a sheltered childhood. So when I got older, I made a list of things I wanted to experience.”
“Like a bucket list?” Eggs asked.
“Something like that.” Her Little Victories Bucket List went beyond the typical bucket list. Common childhood experiences, things most people had probably lived through while growing up, filled the list. Events and situations that would resonate with the universal themes of adolescence.
“What else is on your list?” Voodoo wondered.
Cammie shrugged. “Simple things, like flying a kite. Learning to ride a bike. Sleeping under the stars. Stuff like that.”
“That sounds like fun,” Eggs said. “I bet Jeeves would be happy to help you complete your list.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary.” Although she tried to casually dismiss the offer, the guys were persistent and unwilling to let her refuse.
“That’s a great idea,” Hoot remarked.
“Excellent. Then it’s decided,” Eggs declared, regardless of the lack of agreement from Wade or her. “You should exchange numbers so you can meet up on your next day off.”
“Eggs,” Wade murmured, his exasperation evident in the rough, gravelly tone of his voice.
Eggs waved off Wade’s mumbled aggravation. “This will be good for both of you. Cammie’s new to town. You could show her around while checking things off her list.”
“Right,” Voodoo agreed. “Give her the lay of the land.”
“Helping a friend is the right thing to do,” Spark, who’d remained silent up until this point, said. Despite his distant demeanor, Cammie sensed the man’s sharp awareness; a subtle alertness suggested that he was privy to every detail, every nuance of his surroundings and the people around him. The realization made her shiver.
Misinterpreting her shudder, Wade swiftly shed his jacket and draped it around her shoulders, his touch brief but warm. The worn leather, cool against her skin, invited her to bury her face in its softness, taking a deep breath of the now familiar scent clinging to the collar. The rich aroma of woodsmoke and leather enveloped her, a comforting warmth that spread from her core to the tips of her fingers and toes.
She completely lost track of the conversation as she lost herself in the sensations swamping her. With the band launching into their next set, a wave of sound washed over her, effectively anchoring her back to reality.
To make sure she could hear him above the loud music, Wade leaned in close to her ear and spoke. “More dancing?” he asked.
Reluctantly, she shook her head. It was getting late, and she had an early shift the next day at the bakery.
Though the guys, particularly Eggs, made a half-hearted attempt to prolong the evening, they eventually gave in to her wishes. Having waved goodbye to Melli, she exited, with Wade trailing close behind.
“Where’s your car?” he asked.
Cammie hesitated. “Um . . . I don’t have one. I walked here.” Wade’s head whipped around, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and displeasure. Before he could lecture her, she held up her hand. “I know what you’re going to say. It’s not safe.”
“It’s not,” he grumbled, the words barely audible above the muted sounds of the band still playing inside the bar.
“But I’m protected,” she admitted. Following her rescue, Baker and the SEALs spent time providing her with extensive firearms training to ensure she was comfortable and capable of obtaining her concealed carry permit. She was always carrying, vowing to never be caught unaware again. “And you do realize I can see my apartment from here, right?” she teased, a smirk playing on her lips.
“Be that as it may―”
“Come on,” she said, looping her arm around his. “You can walk me home if it will ease your mind.”
Muttering something that was impossible to understand, he nonetheless set off walking her home. A full block was covered in silence as they walked side by side, before he finally broke the quiet, asking, “Define protected.”