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The Long Game (Long Game, #1)(100)

Author:Elena Armas

I leaned forward, my patience done. Cameron did the same.

The sound of an engine coming to life sliced right through the moment.

We blinked at each other for an instant, chests heaving with heavy breaths, making sense of our surroundings.

“It’s the truck,” he finally whispered, his forehead falling against my shoulder. He groaned a curse.

Oh. Right. I’d forgotten all about that.

Cameron lifted his head and pulled me away from the side of the vehicle.

The sight of my hands in his made my heart skip a beat. It also reminded me of something. “I think we dropped both our drinks,” I said, looking at the ground and finding them there. I glanced back at Cameron. I flushed. “I… You’re smiling really big.” Something took flight in my chest, and I made myself ask. “Why?”

“Because you’ve just given me a reason.”

“A reason for what?”

“To play the longest game I ever have.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Cameron

The lasagna had five minutes left in the oven and Adalyn wasn’t here.

I went to my phone and picked it up off the counter. I opened my contacts but… my finger halted in the air. I could already see her face. Her brown eyes rolling back and her mouth formulating some smart remark about how impatient I was. Maybe she’d call me a nonna again, just like she had the other day when I shoved more food on her plate without asking her first.

The corners of my lips tipped up and with a shake of my head I dropped the phone.

I really was an impatient bastard. But I didn’t care. I was too old and too set in my ways to change that. I didn’t think I could, either. Just like I couldn’t help the need to… take care of her. Especially when she didn’t herself. Or worse yet, when she didn’t expect anybody else to.

Willow and Pierogi dashing in the direction of the front door was the only sign I needed to know that Adalyn was home. Home. Warmth spread in my chest.

I faced the entrance of the kitchen, much like my cats had just done, and waited silently for her to materialize. A trail of sweet mewing reached my ears, followed by the sound of Adalyn’s soft voice. Her voice always did that when she talked to them, and it fascinated me. I loved how close she was with them, and Willow in particular. Every time I found them curled up on the couch, I had to stop myself from… jumping in and begging her to pet me instead.

I was fucking ridiculous.

Her form popped up at the end of the hall, cheeks pink from the increasingly cold air. I watched her unzip the jacket I’d gotten for her, probably unaware I was there, gawking, all my attention captured by those hands I wanted on me. The jacket opened, revealing one of those silky, thin button-downs she loved so much. She was wearing it with jeans and boots. I’d bought every item of clothing on her except for that shirt and her underwear. And a part of me rebelled at the fact. I wanted to pamper Adalyn. Bury her in nice things I knew she could probably afford herself. I didn’t care.

“Hi,” she said, finally noticing me. Her cheeks filled with a different shade of pink, and her eyes trailed down my body. She did that a lot lately. Openly checked me out. And I fucking loved it. “Cameron?”

I swallowed. “I love your hair today.” I really did. It was down, wavy, free, not straightened or tight in some bun.

Adalyn’s lips bobbed. “I… Oh. Thank you.” She frowned. “You, um, looked… weird. As if you were about to sneeze. Or… hungry?” Her eyes widened. “Oh God, I’m super late, aren’t I?” She pulled out her phone and checked the screen. “Please, tell me I’m not too late and ruined dinner.”

The genuine worry in her face pushed me one step forward. I stilled myself. “You’re just in time,” I assured her, my voice sounding a little too rough still. “And I wasn’t about to sneeze. Or hungry. That was just my face.” Around you. Lately. Always. I’d need to work on it.

Her concern dissolved, giving way to that playfulness she had been showing me glimpses of these past days. “You still looked handsome,” she said in a small voice. “It smells great, by the way. Very excited to see what you’ve cooked.”

Enthralled, I watched her pad all the way to the kitchen island and take a seat. “How bad was it?”

A sigh came out of her lips. “Bad. It took Josie and I two rounds of milkshakes to cheer everyone up.”

My hand closed around the bottle of red wine I’d gotten on my way home from the game. I’d already set two glasses on the island. “Red?” I asked, the intimacy of the scene catching me by total surprise. A new kind of warmth spread across my chest. I… liked this. How this felt. I cleared my throat. “I also have a bottle of white chilling in the fridge.”