Tempt Our Fate (Sutten Mountain, #2)(91)

At some point between the heated arguments, the passionate nights, and the tender moments, I started falling for a man I swore I couldn’t stand.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Gran’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.

“I just don’t know what—”

She swats at the air. “You don’t have to say anything. I’d prefer you didn’t so I can get out what I want to say before Camden comes back.”

I nod, eager to hear whatever has made her turn serious.

“To the world, Camden had a beautiful childhood filled with love and adventure, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth. He was born to two incredibly selfish people. Ones who kept him locked away from the world until they deemed him useful. I tried doing what I could for him, but even I know I failed him. I should’ve never let him return to that cold and empty home. You’d walk inside and know it was void of love.”

“He loves you dearly,” I interrupt, needing her to know that he idolizes her. “He’s told me plenty of times that your love was the one thing that got him through that.”

Her eyes gloss over—something I feel mine do at picturing a sad and lonely Camden as a child. “I could’ve done more. I should’ve done more. But I didn’t. And I’ve always been scared of what kind of person Camden would turn into. At times, he felt just like his father, something I never told him. He seemed cold and unattached to the world. I was worried no one would be able to see past the mask he put up in fear of being rejected the way he was by his parents. And then you came along.”

I swallow because I don’t know how to respond. She doesn’t give me the chance to say anything anyway. “He called me one day to tell me about how this infuriating woman—” She laughs at the word. “—his exact word, by the way—how this infuriating woman had made him an herbal tea that morning. The man spent two minutes telling me about it when it made no difference to me what kind of tea he was drinking. But I could tell it was important to him. And let me tell you something. Not much is important to Camden.”

“It was nothing.”

“To him, it was something. In fact, I think it was the start of everything. You’re the most important person in his life. He loves you, even though I know he probably hasn’t told you that. I can see it written all over his face.”

All I can do is shrug because I don’t really know how to respond. “I’m not sure,” I answer honestly, because I truly don’t know how Camden feels. He’s hard to read. It’s hard to know where his head’s at.

“Now, I have to tell you something you might not want to hear,” Gran admits, her voice sad.

My stomach drops because I don’t like the look on her face.

“Camden doesn’t know how to be loved. He doesn’t know how to love. And since he was a child, he’s had to face the cruel world alone. He’ll probably push you away. He might even shut down because he’s terrified of loving someone the way he loved his parents and not having love given back to him. His parents rejected him, and I think he’ll spend the rest of his life wondering if anyone else he loves will, too.”

Tears fall down my cheeks. I’m sad for Camden as a child. The one who just needed to be shown love. I cry for the man that child turned into. The one who believes no one could ever actually love him.

I wipe at the tears immediately, using the sleeve of my sweater to dab at my cheeks. I’d meticulously applied makeup this morning—something I don’t normally do—and now I’m ruining it as I cry in his poor grandma’s arms.

Gran grabs both my cheeks lovingly, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiles at me. I don’t tell her that her hands are cold or that I want to cry all over again because my mom used to do the same thing to comfort me. All I do is lay my hands over hers and try to blink the tears away.

“Be good to him, sweet girl. I hope he lets you love him the way I know you want to.”

“Me too,” I croak, trying to let out a shaky breath.

“Now, let’s both stop crying before he comes in here and catches us?”

I laugh, nodding before I pull her in for one last hug.

Things have never been so clear. Once we’re done with the gala and back in Sutten, I have to tell Camden I’m falling for him. He needs to know he’s loved. It’ll be up to him to decide what to do with that information.





50





CAMDEN





“You’re quiet,” Pippa notes as we come to a stop in front of my gallery.

“I could say the same thing to you,” I respond, thinking about our walk here. I’d bought Gran a place close to my gallery on purpose years ago. She didn’t want to live anywhere near my penthouse, but she didn’t mind a spot closer to the gallery. It worked out in my favor anyway since I’m not home much. The building looming in front of us is more of a home to me.

From the moment I got off the phone—suddenly in a terrible mood from the conversation I had with Daly—and said goodbye to Gran, Pippa’s been quiet. But she isn’t wrong—I’ve also been quiet, too in my head about the shit Daly just piled on me to hold much of a conversation.

“So this is it.” Pippa turns to the gallery building, looking up at the iridescent structure. “Camden Hunter’s gallery. The one the rich and famous visit.”