Cameron cleared his throat, but I knew it was to cover a snort.
Diane laughed awkwardly. “Can’t you grab someone else? I was about to explain to Cam how important it is for Chelsea to keep a balance between her ballet lessons and soccer practices.”
I frowned. Was she? I swore she’d said something about a hose and her ex-husband. Cameron’s eyes, still on me, widened in warning. “I’m afraid the emergency can’t wait.” I schooled my face into a stern expression. “There’s been an accident. By the cheese stand.” Diane’s expression turned skeptical. “They need Cameron. Specifically. Because of his knowledge of… soft cheeses. Particularly.”
“Soft cheeses?” Diane blinked.
“Mozzarella,” I said. “And… Brie. Ricotta, also maybe feta. You know, cheeses that are soft and/or crumble when—”
“I think we better go,” Cameron intervened. “To check on the, hmm, soft cheese emergency in person. It sounds important.” I nodded my head. “And I would hate for the cheeses that crumble, in particular, to crumble too hard.”
“But—” Diana started.
But Cameron’s arm was snaking around my shoulders, his paw-like hand falling on my side, and turning us around and away. He lowered his voice, his head coming down, so close to my ear that I felt the words fall on my skin. “Christ, darling.” He moved us along, away from Diane. “Soft cheeses? You couldn’t think of anything better?”
“That woman makes me nervous.” I shoved Josie’s take-out cup into his hands. “A Campfire Fizz, for you.”
He hummed deep in his throat, and I couldn’t help but notice how we were walking with his arm around my shoulders.
I didn’t complain. “It’s one of Josie’s seasonal drinks. I got a Cocoa Apple Heart for myself.” I lifted the whipped cream-topped cup and took a long swig. “Whoa.”
“Good?” he asked.
“It’s actually great,” I answered, the swirl of flavors bringing me unexpected comfort. I eyed Cameron’s drink and thought of Josie’s words. “Try yours. It better be good because it cost me a serious favor, whatever that meant.” I paused. “It’s a little token of appreciation. A thank-you. For the office. And for everything else, really.” I lifted my head, glancing at his profile. The corner of his lips was twitching. No. I couldn’t survive another grin. Not at the speed we were walking. I returned my eyes to the unpaved way ahead of us. “Don’t look so smug. You needed saving like a minute ago.” I felt myself frown. “Was she… really flirting with you?”
Cameron picked up the pace, his arm now secured around me, and his hand resting on my waist. “Are you jealous?”
I didn’t respond.
I could feel—sense, thanks to my Cameron Caldani sixth sense, which had now developed—that he was smiling. Big. Knowingly.
I was about to call him out on it when Diane called from behind us, “Hello? The cheese stand is right there! You’ve walked past it!”
“Oh God,” I muttered, stealing a glance back. “She’s chasing after us.”
“Your ankle okay or should I throw you over my shoulder?”
“Huh?”
“Fuck it,” he said. And in a quick maneuver I could have never anticipated, I was up in his arms. Drinks intact.
“Cameron—” I started, grabbing on to his jacket with one hand and holding my drink with the other. I spotted Diane over his shoulder. Her index finger was up in the air, her pace increasing. “Okay, I think it’s time to run.”
Cameron took off then, laughter rolling straight out of him, dark and rich and beautiful. Making his chest vibrate against my body with the sound. He made a sudden turn to the left, and honest to God, a giggle came out of me. The man who was now sprinting through the space between two stands rasped out something between a chuckle and a curse in response, and finally rounded a big truck that was parked a few yards away.
He came to a stop behind it, next to the truck’s bed, which was filled with hay and provided a good cover. He peeked his head out, probably checking to see if we were still being chased.
When he faced me, my chest was heaving with my breath. My heart pounded with adrenaline that had little to do with the sprint and everything to do with the man who still had me in his arms.
Time seemed to slow, thicken, as he lowered me to my feet, a wave of very different emotions crashing into me when my boots touched the ground.