Page 22 of Sunny Skies Ahead (Watford Sweethearts #2)

Chapter fifteen

Imogen

W atching Kameron slowly warm up to Bass was going to be my undoing.

I knew Kameron’s reaction to finding Bass in the woods had nothing to do with the dog itself and everything to do with the fact that Kameron just wasn’t a dog person.

Bass wasn’t an “ankle biting” dog, as my grandmother would have called them. Bass was a sweet, gentle-hearted lap dog. He fit himself in amongst the five of us, as if he had always been part of our little family.

He loved to run around the farm, and at night, he tucked himself into his dog bed in the living room and slept all night.

I was lounging on the couch of the farmhouse, scrolling through emails after scheduling a few social media posts. I responded to a few basic inquiries, most of which was redirecting folks to the cohort application or our FAQ website page where they could get more information about the farm .

When a new email arrived from the official Warrior’s Foundation address, I gasped out loud.

“Holy crap,” I shouted, dropping my tablet like it burned me. Kameron whipped his head into the living room from the kitchen.

“What? What happened?”

I was still staring at the email on my upturned tablet when Kam came to stand over my shoulder.

“Winding Road has advanced to the last stage of the grant process,” I said, still trying to wrap my head around it. “They want you to come present to the selection committee in person in Seattle next month.”

I turned to face Kameron, unable to control my smile as it spread across my face. I grabbed both of his biceps—against my better judgment—and shook him gently, trying to break him out of the trance.

“Kam, you did it. Only three people made it to this stage. Your chances of getting this grant are high. Sky high, because you’re amazing at rallying support, and Winding Road is—”

My rambling was thankfully cut short as Kameron stepped forward and picked me up, spinning me around while whispering “oh my God” over and over again. I let out a joyous laugh and squeezed him back, not wanting this moment to end.

Everything he had worked so hard for was coming together. Kameron’s energy was infectious. There was no doubt in my mind that when Kameron got into that boardroom and made his presentation, the grant would be his .

Kam put me back down on the ground, but his hands didn’t leave my hips.

“Oh,” I whispered, staring into his eyes.

I was helpless . Absolutely freaking helpless every time this man looked at me with that level of devotion and care.

Which is why I couldn’t be blamed for standing up on my tiptoes and kissing him.

Kam let out a sound of surprise, his lips parting on a gentle gasp as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me in close.

The gentle scratch of his beard against my jaw set my skin on fire.

The push and pull of him, this connection between us, the delicate string that pulled us back to one another like moths to a flame.

It had never felt this good kissing someone. I didn’t know a kiss stoke this kind of desire, to be utterly consumed by someone.

I never wanted it to stop.

But just a few seconds later, it did, and I found myself still staring, unable to stop myself. There was a flush high in his cheeks, and his eyes were dilated, entirely focused on me.

“Sorry,” Kam said, his thumb still hovering over my pulse point. If I could feel my pulse hammering against my skin, I knew he could, too. I was surprised the sound of my heart racing wasn’t audible in the space between us. “Got carried away.”

“It’s great news,” I said, my voice still raspier than usual. “I don’t mind. We should celebrate this.”

Kameron let me go, and I felt the absence of his hands as an ache in my chest. That wasn’t normal, right? It wasn’t normal to miss someone who wasn’t yours. Someone that you couldn’t have because things would get messy.

Nope, I thought to myself. Not going there.

“I hope you weren’t planning on quitting on me now that the renovations are done, because I’m going to need your help.”

I shook my head gently, clearing all thoughts of my negative emotions away. I focused entirely on Kameron, who was reading over the forgotten email.

“They want a bunch of deliverables, mainly graphics about revenue and plans for the next five years,” Kameron said.

“Well,” I said, sitting down on the couch.

“The good news is Winding Road hasn’t been in operation long enough to need some of what they’re asking for.

And lucky for you, one assignment I’ve given myself over the last few weeks is to organize your shared drive.

It might take a while to create the presentation, but it won’t be difficult to do. ”

Kameron smacked a messy kiss on my cheek. I let out a noise of fake disgust, even though my stomach tumbled.

“We’re going to need more coffee for this.”

I made a promise. There would be no more relationships, because I couldn’t trust myself to make the right choice.

It was the only promise I’d ever made to myself.

So why did I have this ache in my chest that only disappeared when Kameron’s lips were on mine?

As I watched him retreat into the kitchen to brew us another pot of coffee, I realized that maybe the ache in my chest was the weight of the past holding me back.

Kameron returned with two cups of coffee, and I leaned forward to kiss his cheek gently .

“Thank you,” I murmured, and I hope he understood all that I tried to convey, but couldn’t find the words to speak aloud yet.

Kameron’s answering smile told me he did.

Kameron video chatted Connor and Lucas to tell them the good news, and I spent most of the afternoon creating folders for each type of document we’d need.

I sorted through everything from invoices to monthly bank statements and correspondence with previous cohorts.

I went through our social media accounts and scoured the comments and direct messages for anything we could use as a personal anecdote, and sent messages to those individuals asking for permission to use their statements in our presentation.

It might have been a bit overboard, even for me, but I refused to give Kameron anything less than my best.

This was what we’d all been working towards so hard this spring and summer.

If Winding Road could secure the Warrior’s Grant, all of Kameron’s grand plans for this land would come to fruition.

Not only that, but they’d be well on their way to ensuring the long-term success of Winding Road with all the resources the Warrior’s Foundation would provide for them.

It was a life-changing grant. For everyone involved with Winding Road, but also for the people that came here to get the help they so desperately needed.

By the time the evening rolled around, Lucas was back upstairs after a full day of farm work. We’d both spent most of the afternoon and evening hunched over our laptops, compiling notes and ideas into a shared document that had the basic outline for the presentation.

Kameron shut his laptop first, and I followed suit.

“Do you have plans tonight?” I blurted.

Kameron quirked an eyebrow. “If by plans you mean the fact that I planned to watch T.V. and goof off on the internet until I collapse, then yes, my evening is booked solid.”

I looked down at my lap briefly. Was I really about to do this? It was hard enough for me to throw caution to the wind and stop overthinking for long enough to enjoy something, and what I wanted to do tonight involved more than just living in the moment.

It required vulnerability.

“Do you have plans?” he asked.

I have so, so many plans, I wanted to say.

But there was something I had to do first. If I was going to put my heart on the line, I needed Kameron to know the full story. There couldn’t be any more secrets, no more closed doors or hiding from the memories.

“I want to tell you my story,” I whispered. “But I need you to promise me that you won’t pity me.”

Kameron’s eyes shone with understanding, and he reached for my hand.

“I don’t pity you, Imogen. I never have. ”

“You’re a good listener,” I said, zipping the pendant of my necklace along its chain. It was a classic nervous habit I’d never been able to break.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

I swallowed back a hysterical laugh. Was I really about to do this?

“It’s not a bad thing. But it’s not something I’m used to.”

“Well, I’ve got all the fixings for burrito bowls,” Kameron said, nodding his head toward the kitchen. “What do you say we fix dinner and talk?”

“Sounds good,” I said. The act was innocuous enough; we’d shared dozens of dinners together. None of those dinners had come after a series of kisses, but it would be fine.

Kameron set about making the ground beef and I gathered the toppings, taking time to wash out Bass’s water and food bowls before refilling both. Hopefully, he’d want to take a nap during dinner so Kam and I could talk in peace.

The scene was surprisingly domestic. I’d lived by myself for most of my adult life, save for the year I lived with Jacob. That year was anything but domestic bliss, so the ease with which Kam and I moved around each other in the kitchen took me by surprise in the best possible way.

We took our seats at the table, and I let out a long breath.

“Do you remember that night at the party, when Abbie made that joke about my chaotic bisexual energy?

Kam paused with his fork halfway to his mouth as he looked at me. My heart lurched in my chest.

“I just wanted to make sure you knew I’m bisexual. I like girls and guys. Everyone. All. ”

I might as well dig my own grave.

“I remember,” he said. “I don’t want to dismiss you sharing that with me, but I also want you to know it doesn’t change anything.”

I blinked.

“Did you think that would change something?” Kam said, inclining his head slightly.