by May Archer
Drew certainly looked the part of the young, rich guy. He was wearing chinos which didn’t appear to have a single wrinkle, a tight polo shirt showing off a fairly muscular chest, and canvas boat shoes. Too bad he’s an asshole.
Cort approached them from the side, and neither one seemed to notice him, so he hung back for a moment, watching them. Drew was speaking in a low voice, his hand slashing through the air as he made a point. Cam’s arms were crossed over his chest, his cheeks flushed either with anger or embarrassment. Cort imagined himself landing a firm punch to the exact corner of Drew’s jaw, and if the asshole was saying something nasty to Cam again, Cort would take great pleasure in it. He was confident he could take him down without a problem.
“But who is he, Cam? God, you don’t know a thing about him, and you’re already bringing him around to parties and introducing him to people! Don’t be fooled. This isn’t real. He’s using you.”
Cort felt a spurt of anger - both at Drew for being an ass, and because the ass actually had a point. Cort had definitely planned to use Cam, had used him, in fact, but they were more than that.
“What’s going on, gentlemen?” Cort asked, stepping forward and looking from one to the other.
Cam shook his head again. “Later,” he murmured, his voice low.
Cort glanced down at him with one eyebrow raised, a silent code for Can I hit him?
Cam read him instantly, the way he had from their very first meeting, and some of the tension left his face. His lips even quirked up slightly. “Cort, you remember Drew from the other night?”
Cort took a slow sip of his beer and narrowed his eyes, implying Drew wasn’t that memorable. Drew huffed.
“Oh, right. I remember that noise.” Cort attempted to look innocent, but he was pretty sure the way he was glaring at Drew gave him away.
Cam’s arm snaked beneath Cort’s shirt to wrap around his waist, and Cort felt his temper cool just slightly.
“Is there a problem here?” Cort challenged Drew.
“You tell me,” Drew said. “Does Cam even know who you are? Does he know why you’re here?”
Cort’s heart stuttered for a second, before he realized Drew must be - had to be - bluffing. Nobody knew why he was really here except Damon, not even Cam.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cort said.
Drew sighed. “I didn’t want to have to tell you this, Cam, because I don’t want to see you hurt. I got all his information from Margaret as soon as I heard he was coming with you, and I ran a background check. He’s—”
“Kendrick Cortland,” Cam spat in a whisper to make it clear he was done with this conversation. “I know he works for the FBI. And I know why he’s here.”
Cort watched Drew’s head jerk back slightly in shock which mirrored Cort’s own. If Drew had done a thorough check, he might know of Cort’s relationship to Damon, and he felt a moment of heart-stopping panic at the idea of Cam finding out this way. Cam was his. Cort never had anyone who was his besides his brother. Somehow this guy had burrowed under his skin in a very short time, and it was…
Terrifying.
“Wait,” Drew said. “Do you know everything about him?”
Cam frowned, and his gaze flashed to Cort. What have you been hiding?
Lydia put a hand on Drew’s arm. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she told Drew. “But Camden and Cort only just arrived, and I want to show them to their room so they can freshen up before dinner.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Drew offered, angry eyes on Cort.
“Not necessary,” Cam said. “We’ll finish later.”
He turned and smiled at Lydia, who led them away. The crowd of guests parted before her. Cort put a hand at the small of Cam’s back as they followed, and prayed nobody else stopped them. His patience was at an end.
“Wasn’t that a lovely introduction for your young man?” Lydia snorted as they passed through a sliding glass door and into the house. “Meeting the Shaws and the McManns, or at least one of them. Truly a trial by fire.”
Cam made a humming noise. “They’re not usually so bad.”
Lydia snorted and looked over her shoulder. “Oh, yes they are. Mary-Alice was always a little high-strung, though she hasn’t been quite the same since the crash, and then the divorce. Same could be said for Drew, I suppose.” She sighed. “Emmett and Lucy were better when your mother was here, Camden. She was a civilizing influence on them. But Emmett has always been a pompous prick, and Lucy lives in a fantasy world. I feel for poor Cain. There’s potential there, but he needs to reach out and seize it. He’s too frightened to anger his father or shatter his mother’s dream world.”
Cam said nothing.
“I’m not gossiping,” she assured Cort with another backwards glance. “I’d say this to their faces.”
Cort gave her a distracted half-smile, his thoughts still focused on Drew’s almost-revelation. Every rational brain cell was screaming that he should explain things to Cam immediately or risk losing him, but something entirely irrational held him back. If he explained things now, would he lose Cam anyway?
Before he confessed everything to Cam, there were other, more important things he needed the man to know.
Lydia led them through a lavishly appointed living area and up the curving white staircase at the center of the house. “I put you two in the room all the way at the end of the east wing. It’s the smallest room in the house,” she apologized, “but it’s also the one closest to the back stairs, and the—”
“Beach walk,” Cam said with a soft smile. “I remember.”
Lydia flashed him a grin. “Exactly.” They strolled along the hallway and arrived at the room. She threw open the door, then stood back and gave the two of them a stern frown. “Now. I don’t expect to see either of you again for the rest of the evening.”
“You’re sure?” Cam asked Lydia.
“Very, very sure. I want you to enjoy yourselves.” She gave Cam a wink, and pressed a friendly hand to Cort’s arm. “I expect someone’s already brought your bags up. Go show your gentleman the beach and cove, Camden. Just stick to the beach path and don’t go wandering the grounds unless you want to be attacked by rabid socialites.”
Cam nodded and wandered into the room, while Cort turned to watch Lydia depart.
He hadn’t imagined he could have so much in common with someone who owned an island, but this was turning out to be a week of revelations.
Chapter Sixteen
Cort walked into the room and shut the door behind him with no small amount of unease. Cam had heard enough from Drew to suspect Cort was still keeping secrets, and Cort expected an angry tirade the moment the door closed, complete with yelling and demands. Instead, he found Cam kneeling beside his suitcase, pulling out a pair of swim trunks and sandals.
Cort licked his lips. “Cam—”
“Let’s go to the beach. Grab your suit,” Cam said, dropping his shorts quickly. “And I’ve got some sunblock and stuff in my kit. I can already feel myself burning.”
Cort frowned. “Yeah, fine. In a minute. First…”
“No. Now,” Cam insisted, yanking on his trunks. “While there’s still light.” He wouldn’t meet Cort’s eyes, and Cort would be damned if he’d accept that.
He grabbed Cam around the waist and pushed him against one of the tall mahogany bedposts. He saw his own uncertainty reflected in Cam’s stunning blue eyes, and it slayed him.
He needed to reassure Cam.
Hell, he needed to reassure himself.
“You calling all the shots today, badass?” he whispered, trailing his free hand over Cam’s cheek and down his jaw to cup his neck.
Cam shivered and swallowed hard, but didn’t reply.
“Listen to me first, for just a second. Out there, beyond the door, there are a million things happening, Cam. Things to test us. Things wanting to destroy us. Things that make the idea of us being together seem impossible,” Cort said, staring into Cam’s eyes. “B
ut here, in this room? That shit is background noise. There’s only you and me. Are you with me?”
Cort leaned closer, hand digging into Cam’s hip, and opened his mouth over the spot on Cam’s neck where his pulse beat a rapid tattoo. He sucked gently, not hard enough to leave a mark, though every instinct told him to.
“Okay,” Cam said softly. “Okay.”
Cort’s eyes shut, and he leaned his forehead against Cam’s shoulder for a second, as wild, heady relief swamped him.
“Okay,” Cort repeated.
Then he lifted his head and laid claim to Cam’s mouth.
Cort took full advantage of the height difference between them, towering over Cam and forcing his head back against the post. Cort’s hands found Cam’s hips, holding him in place, while Cort’s tongue licked against the seam of his lips. Cam moaned, his lips parting slightly, and Cort accepted the invitation, delving his tongue inside to tangle alongside Cam’s own with a measured thoroughness. He wanted Cam to remember this, no matter what happened between them later, wanted to ruin Cam for any other kisses.
Then Cam’s arms came up to wrap around Cort’s neck, pulling him them even more tightly together. The surprise of it, of knowing Cam was feeling even a fraction of what Cort felt, made Cort’s heart lurch painfully.
Cam writhed against his hold, returning every bite and moan, measure for measure, until Cort knew he’d been claimed every bit as thoroughly as he had Cam.
He was Cam’s.
Cam was his.
He smiled ruefully as he pulled back, pressing one more chaste kiss to Cam’s forehead. The problem with acknowledging someone was yours was that you had to find a way to keep them.
“Now we go to the beach, badass,” Cort said gently. He stepped away to find his own trunks, adjusting himself to somewhat conceal his burgeoning erection. He smiled slightly when Cam continued to lean against the bedpost in a daze.
Cort slipped the burner phone into his pocket, grabbed Cam’s toiletry bag and a couple of towels, then held out his hand to Cam, who deliberately slid his palm against Cort’s, twining their fingers together.
They stepped into the hall, and Cam locked the door behind them, pocketing the small key that had been left in the lock. He ushered Cort down a flight of stairs next to their room, and out through a side door. A hedgerow screened them from the view of the revelers still out on the patio as they cut across the side lawn and took a well-worn path over the rocky ledge and down a set of stone steps leading to the beach below.
The water was calm in this small cove, though they could hear the surf breaking on the rocks just beyond. The setting sun was sinking from the sky. Cort remembered reading somewhere this was the golden hour, and he truly understood it for the first time. The wet rocks and placid water seemed to burn with liquid fire, and even the air shimmered around them.
Cam still held on to his hand as they crossed the stony beach and ducked through a stone archway to a more secluded sandy stretch of seashore beyond.
“It’s like an entirely separate world,” Cort mused, leaning in and placing a gentle kiss on Cam’s cheek. He couldn’t hear any noise from the party, not a single airplane streaked across the sky. It felt as though they were completely cut off from everyone, and Cort took his first deep breath in hours.
“Mmm. I used to love it here,” Cam said. He braced a hand against Cort’s arm and closed his eyes, breathing in the saltwater scent that surrounded them. His brown hair was red-tinged in the sunlight, his skin was flushed and warm, and the sight of him made Cort’s chest ache. “When I was a kid, I’d bring a book and come here to read, but I never ended up reading. I’d sit and watch the water and make wishes.”
He could imagine that - Cam as a kid, needing to get away and find some peace. Cort had been much the same.
“What did you wish for?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
Cam shrugged. “All the usual things, I guess. To be successful - possibly as a superhero.” He chuckled. “To have whatever guy I had a crush on fall madly in love with me.” He grinned as he threw himself down on his butt in the sand, his eyes on the water, their towels and the case with the sunblock dropped haphazardly in a pile beside him.
Cort hesitated for a second, then threw himself down next to Cam. The sand was damp and chilly, and he fought the urge to squirm. The phone was a hard lump digging into his ass. “When I was a kid I wished for a family - a loud, boisterous family. And money. Lots of money.”
Cam glanced at him and nodded. “Makes sense, I guess. We always want what we don’t have.”
“Cam, you know I don’t give a shit about your money, right?” Cort blew out a breath. “Frankly, I think it would be easier if you didn’t have any.”
“What would?” Cam’s eyes were wide and Cort looked away, rubbing his palms on the legs of his shorts.
“This. Us.” He felt like an idiot. The words he wanted to use - relationship, future, together - were so incredibly silly. They’d known each other for days.
Cam also turned away to look at the water, but Cort could hear the change in his breathing – fast, short pants, as though he was doing something way more strenuous than sitting watching the surf. He could practically hear Cam’s mind whirring, too.
“Wanna play a game?” Cort asked.
Cam huffed out a laugh. “Why not? More ‘Never Have I Ever’?” He darted a quick glance at Cort. “Be careful, though. The more time I spend with you, the shorter the list of things I’ve never done seems to get.”
Cort chuckled. “No Jameson today, anyway. Let’s stick to the classic Truth or Dare.”
Cam was silent for a moment, rubbing his lips together in a way that was totally distracting. Then he nodded. “Alright. I’ll take the dare.”
Cort laughed again. “I thought you were supposed to hear the question first, badass! But whatever. I can work with this. I dare you to go back to the party and kiss this Arcadia person I keep hearing about.”
Cam gave him a look of such utter disdain, Cort laughed out loud. “So that’s a no?”
“That’s a hell no.”
“So, does that mean you now have to answer the question?” Cort wondered, grinning. “How do our games get so ass-backwards?”
“Now that is a good question,” Cam sighed, shaking his head. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“If you could have anything right now, what would it be?”
Cam seemed startled. “Wow. You’re diving right in with the tough ones, huh?”
“Well, I don’t think we’ve really gone easy on each other this week, have we? It’s been high-stakes, from the very beginning.” Cort’s tone was light, but he knew the words he spoke were true.
“High-stakes, maybe,” Cam agreed. “But in some ways, it’s still been... easy.” He frowned, and Cort understood why. It was scary how easy this was, and part of him couldn’t help wondering when the other shoe would drop.
Cam snagged a folded towel from the pile and placed it behind him as a pillow. He lay back with his hands folded on his stomach, staring up at the blue sky for a minute, giving careful consideration to Cort’s question.
“Probably to be someone who wasn’t me? Someone who wasn’t a Seaver, I mean. I love my family, but…” He rolled on his side to face Cort and shrugged. “You probably figured money would solve all your problems. Sometimes I wish I could get rid of mine.”
Cort nodded. “You know, this time a week ago, I wouldn’t have believed it. Not about you, or anyone. I get it now. Sometimes money causes more problems than it solves. But Cam, I can’t begin to describe to you what it’s like growing up without any. How many people think you’re a lower life form because you can’t afford name-brand whatever, or assume the reason you’re poor is because you’re lazy or weak or stupid. It’s hard to fight back against that, when adults and their kids treat you that way. Rich kid doesn’t get the question, teacher explains again. Poor kid doesn’t get it, it’s because he’s slacking. Stupid stuff on its own, but it’s lik
e water torture, picking away at you.”
“You grew up mostly in Johnsville, right?” Cam sounded hesitant, as if knowing Cort would freak if he began asking more questions.
Cort rubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t want to hide from Cam anymore. “Is this my question?” he teased.
Cam flopped back down and put his forearm up to shade his eyes from the light as he looked at Cort. “Yeah.”
Cort didn’t hesitate. “Yep. In the not-so-nice part. It’s where my last and longest foster family, the Dempseys, lived. It was a one-story house with two bedrooms, so Damon and I shared.”
“Damon, your brother?” Cam ventured.
“Damon Fitzpatrick, my brother,” Cort confirmed, holding his breath as he waited for Cam to recognize the name, to ask more questions.
But Cam only nodded and looked back up at the sky. “Your turn.”
“Truth or Dare?” Cort asked.
Cam rolled his eyes. “I’m over the dares. Ask the question.”
Cort’s mind churned. He wanted to know everything. He wanted to know more about Cam’s family, about his plans for the future, about his feelings for Cort, whatever those might be. A voice in the back of his mind reminded him he should find out more about Sebastian, for Damon’s sake, but he rejected that almost immediately.
“What scares you most?” he asked, instead. “Besides flying.”
Cam pursed his lips, looking thoughtful, and Cort felt his heart squeeze almost painfully. He loved this about Cam - the way he made sure things were true before he said them, like he took Cort’s thoughts seriously and wanted to give him an honest answer.
“Drew says I get scared of emotions. Since the crash. I run from things when they get real.”
Cort’s lingering annoyance at Drew flared to life. “That’s what Drew thinks. What do you think?”
Cam shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s right, because I’ve thrown myself into work. I stopped doing things I used to want to do.”