Camden was right next to me, helping me back to my feet. “I thought I told you to wait.”
“I was managing fine.”
“Yes, I noticed while you were getting O positive all over the pavement,” he said, leading me over to a bench near the hotel’s entrance. “Please sit here for a second.”
Since my head was still spinning, I sat. He went over to my purse and started gathering things up. I said a quick prayer of gratitude that I did not have any feminine products in my bag. I had the sneaking suspicion that I might not have been able to look him in the eye again if I had a mental image of him picking up my tampons.
“That thing in your hand is called a phone,” I told him when he got my cell phone and put it back in my purse. “You might not recognize it since it’s from this century.”
He ignored my jibe and grabbed my presents. I hoped my salt and pepper shakers were okay. They were still wrapped in tissue paper, so I figured they had probably survived.
“I think your mints spilled everywhere,” he said. “Wait, these aren’t mints. What is this?”
“That’s my happy box,” I told him as he started gathering little rolled-up pieces of paper. He unrolled one and I didn’t even object.
“‘Nice job.’” He opened another. “‘Great work.’ ‘You should be proud of yourself.’” He looked up at me. “I don’t get it.”
Camden put the pieces of paper back into the mint box I kept them in and brought the box and my purse back to me.
“My mom is very demanding,” I told him as I returned the box to my bag. “I know she loves me, but I’m an only child. A child my parents never thought they would have. So it’s like they have all their hopes pinned on me.”
“The grandkids thing?”
“That’s part of it, but I’ve always felt like I had to be the best. The smartest. The most successful. And sometimes my mom is critical. I know she’s trying to help me, but it can be overwhelming and I can get mired in self-doubt. So when someone leaves me a nice note—a teacher, a friend, a client—I tear it off and keep it in my box. They’re reminders that somebody appreciated me and thought I was doing a good job. That I don’t always fall short.”
He seemed to be considering my words, and I saw a flash of sadness on his face. “That’s pretty deep for someone who’s had enough rum to make Captain Jack Sparrow woozy.”
“You’re right.” The night was far too beautiful and warm to be wasting my time talking about things that depressed me. “I’m going to go for a walk on the beach. Do you want to come?”
“We should go inside and clean your hands.”
I looked at my palms. “It’s fine. It’s not bad.” I flicked a tiny black pebble away. “It doesn’t even hurt.” My head seemed a little clearer, so I stood up and only wobbled a little.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.
Shaking my head, I told him, “I wasn’t asking for your permission.”
He stood up, too. “I’ll come with you.”
Secretly, I was thrilled. This was exactly what I’d hoped he’d do. But I didn’t want him to think that I was trying to manipulate him. Even if I was. “You don’t have to.”
He ran his fingers through his hair in a very attractive way. Some part of my brain registered that the gesture and the loud sigh that accompanied it were probably due to frustration.
“Why are you sighing?” I asked.
“Because I’m having visions of you getting dragged out to sea and then Sadie blaming me for losing her best friend to the watery deep. So obviously I have to accompany you.” His tone was light, but I could tell that something else was bothering him.
I guessed he would tell me when he wanted to.
“This way!” I said, walking across the grass to where it met the white sand. My heels immediately sank and I was having problems navigating the beach.
Camden came up behind me. “Why did you stop?”
I flailed my hands around, ending up pointing at my shoes. “I can’t walk with these things on and I’m pretty sure that if I try to take them off I’m going to end up with a head injury.”
“Sand’s pretty soft. I think you’ll be okay,” he teased, but then he knelt down next to my feet.
His fingers made contact with the bare skin of my right ankle as he undid the strap and then carefully slid my shoe off, holding me in place with his warm, strong hand. I put my palms on his shoulders, just to keep myself steady. Not so much because of the shoe coming off, but because of the waves of sensation that traveled from my foot up my leg and settled deep and low in my gut.