Page 43

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Cameron

“What the hell do you mean, you’re going to the Bahamas?”

My mom laughs in my ear, and my jaw drops.

“Oh my god, it’s starting, isn’t it? I’m an adult child now? Just abandoned. Thrown to the wolves.”

Both Ben and Tisha laugh, and I can tell Brady is dying for me to look at his shit-eating grin.

“Oh, honey, no, don’t be ridiculous.” Mom pauses. “Once you give us a grandbaby, then you can come on vacations with us again.”

“Mom!” Now I’m laughing. “Well, I’ll let you tell my dad that he’ll have to wait a good ten years, if ever , to have his favorite ski partner on the slopes with him again, then.”

“Oh, you’re playing dirty, huh? Bringing out the big guns.”

I smile. “Is Zeus at least in the backyard? He didn’t bark when I knocked.”

“No, he’s been boarded.”

“Boo.” I pout. “Well, I guess I should tell you to have the best time, but next time you’re hopping on a freaking plane, maybe let your daughter know?”

“Like you let us know you’d be driving down a highway all day today?” she teases. “No, honestly, we just got through security and we’re waiting for a spot at the bar. We were going to call you once we got settled, but Ben and Tisha will take care of you.”

“Yes, we will!” Tisha answers back .

“Fine. You’re off the hook, but I fully expect to be in the car with you in December when it’s time to head up the mountain!”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way. Love you.”

“Love you, bye.” I hang up, finally looking to Brady to find his lips pinched to the side. “Go ahead, Big Guy, let it all out.”

He does laugh then, putting his arm around my shoulders and hooking my neck in the crook of his arm. “Looks like it’s a T-shirt dress in November for you. You’re going to freeze your nipples off, summer queen.”

“Brady!” his mom chastises. “You leave the poor girl’s nipples alone. Last thing a girl wants is to have her headlights on during the daytime.”

My cheeks are flaming, and Brady gives me a little shake.

“Hey, Mama, you got the ornaments dangling from your headlights yet?”

My eyes snap toward him, narrowing on the side of his face.

“Don’t be silly.” She waves him off. “It’s not even December, but I’ll get them on.”

“You could put them on now.”

I elbow him in the ribs in warning.

He ignores me, his tone silk fucking smooth as he says, “Cammie Baby, don’t you like it when ornaments stay on headlights all year long?”

His mom looks over curiously, and my mouth opens and closes as Brady tries to hide his laughter in my hair.

Tisha tips her head in thought. “You know what? You’re right. Maybe I’ll get me some of those little eyelashes to keep on year-round. Thanks for the idea!” She walks away, none the wiser that her son’s coarse hands have warmed my nipples.

Brady’s shoulders shake with silent laughter, and I pull from his hold.

“I hate you,” I hiss.

He slips up behind me, those big, strong arms coming around my waist, and he tucks his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie I’m wearing.

His palms press into my lower stomach, and his shoulders are so wide compared to my own that he engulfs me completely, drowning me in his rich and spicy scent.

His lips find my ear. “No, you don’t,” he whispers, and I bite at the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.

No, I really, really don’t…

It seems being home has brought back the more playful Brady, the one that’s been a little MIA as of late. I almost forgot the powers of his charm.

Or maybe it’s just never hit the same as it does now…

I toss and turn for the millionth time, yanking the covers up over my head with a low groan just as there’s a quick knock on the door, but he doesn’t wait for me to respond before he’s throwing it open.

“Oh, Cammie Baby,” he singsongs, and I groan again.

Brady laughs and then the entirety of his weight settles over me.

“Go away, you big brute. You’re gonna suffocate me,” I whine, holding the blankets tight over my head because I know what comes next.

Sure enough, his fingers fold over the edge, and he tugs it down, forcing me to squint at the bright-ass room around me.

I pout and he smiles, all big and bright and Brady-like.

“Morning.”

“What time is it?”

“Little after nine.”

I’m already whining, pulling the blankets back up, but he doesn’t let me, his grip tightening as he shifts his weight and swings his feet over the edge of the bed.

I look over, seeing he’s already dressed and freshly showered like a psycho. “Who is dressed and ready this early on a Saturday? ”

As if on cue, Tisha pokes her head in, smiling brightly.

“Oh good, he listened.” She beams, her little Suzy Homemaker self already as perfect as ever, hair blown out, makeup in place, and a cute little sweater dress on, with an apron wrapped around her waist. “Breakfast will be ready in twenty. Just waiting for my hash-brown pie to brown so I can start the eggs.”

She disappears, and I sulk some more.

Brady chuckles, smacking my blankets as he climbs to his feet. “I’m going with my dad to pick up some firewood down the street, but we’ll be right back. Raid my drawers for something to wear and don’t judge if you find some dirty magazines hidden in any.”

“Oh, please. Me and Ari found you guys’ stash under Chase’s deck storage when we were, like, fifteen.”

“What?!” He gapes. “I gotta tell the boys. We always thought his mom found ’em and never said a word!” He’s already moving into the hall as he says it, his phone in his hand.

My lips curve, but then I remember it’s early and I’m tired, so I let out one last internal cry for my sleepless night, and I climb from the bed to hit the shower.

With a time limit on my head and the real Donna Reed downstairs, I make quick work of getting ready. Not like it’s hard with limited options and zero makeup or skin care products.

There’s no time to snoop around in Brady’s childhood room, so I just scan for something that can work in the closet, knowing his sweats are an immediate no-go since they’re far too big.

I find an old hoodie with our high school logo on it and pull it on—why didn’t I take the time to put a bra on before heading out to help Junie yesterday morning?

It’s a charcoal gray and has been washed so many times, the inside isn’t as soft as it used to be, but it’s still comfortable, and when I push onto my tiptoes to look in the mirror over his dresser, I see the lip of the back doesn’t cover my ass.

I sigh and try again, this time picking up one with some camp logo on it, likely from some football training program they always seemed to join when it was offseason.

I repeat the process, smiling when this one manages to hang low enough to not appear scandalous.

The hoodie is a forest green, with a white-and-yellow logo, so I grab a pair of long white socks and tug them up, smiling when the tops reach mid-knee.

“This is actually kind of cute.” I pinch my lips to the side in thought. “Now what the hell am I supposed to do about underwear?”

Finishing up, I hurry into the bathroom to use the toothbrush sitting on the counter, figuring it’s for me, and brush my wet hair out, parting it down the middle.

I search the drawers, finding some hair products, and smooth it through the crown of my hair, flattening the part to my head and sweeping it back in a perfect bun.

It’s the easiest hairstyle a girl can wear and still look like she tried.

I nod at my reflection and make my way down the stairs, the front door opening as I reach the last step.

Ben comes in, smiling my way. “She’s alive.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I chuckle. “Need some help?”

“With the heavy lifting, when I’ve got a perfectly healthy six-foot-four and 259-pound son to do it?” He raises a dark brow. “Get your butt out of here.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m strong as shit, Mr. Lancaster.”

“Sweetheart, don’t mister me. It makes me feel old.” He continues into the living room, and I smile as I head into the kitchen to see if Tisha needs any help.

She’s dancing around to soft classical music, pulling a glass dish from the oven the second I walk in. She looks up and her lips stretch into a smile. “Perfect! And did I hear the boys get back just now too?”

“You did.” I nod, looking around the table as she sets the glass down. “Is anyone else coming for breakfast?”

She waves me off with a laugh. “I know it’s a lot, but it’s been a few months since I’ve gotten to make my baby breakfast. Besides, you guys can always take the leftovers back with you tomorrow. Have you heard from your parents? Did they make it okay?”

I sigh, taking a seat when she points at the chairs. “Yes, they sent me a picture of them drinking mimosas out of coconuts this morning.”

Tisha smiles, taking a few coffee cups down, and starts filling them.

“Only two, Mama.” Brady’s voice reaches me, and just as his mom turns around, a frown on her face, a paper cup is set down in front of me.

I tip my head back, looking upside down at Brady behind me.

“It’s not Caramel Cookie Crumble with extra cookie and extra crumble,” he says. “But it is a Cookie Butter latte with extra caramel.”

I blink up at him. “You know my drink from Bebe’s Brews?”

“You thought not?”

“I haven’t ordered one of these with you around since, what, the day we left for summer after senior year?”

He holds my gaze and I squash my lips to one side to hide a smile, but he sees it. Slowly, a grin makes its way across his handsome face. He winks and moves around the table, and call me Michael Myers because I stalk him all the way. I just can’t look away.

He steps up to his mom, kissing her on the cheek as he steals a piece of bacon and makes a dash for it. As he clearly suspected she’d try, her arm darts out to smack him, but she misses…because her eyes are on me, a gentle heat stirring within me at the tenderness there.

“Well, okay then,” she says quietly, her smile soft as she passes the other coffee mug to her husband, the two sharing a look before she turns to the fridge.