by LaQuette
Elijah tried to settle back into sleep, but the distinctive intro the Isley Brothers’ “For the Love of You” began, and Elijah’s eyes popped open. He blinked to clear his vision and stopped to listen for Ronald Isley’s smooth tenor begin that all too popular, classic first line of the song. A few seconds later, Ronald didn’t disappoint.
He swung his legs off the couch and stood too quickly. Elijah didn’t let the discomfort stop him. If his mama was in his kitchen cooking biscuits and salmon cakes, he wouldn’t be the only one in the house to realize it. If he wanted to snatch as many croquettes as his belly could handle, he’d have to beat his big-headed brother to the table first.
A mad dash up the stairs and a few minutes at his bathroom vanity, and Elijah was presentable enough to sit at his table. He stopped in the kitchen doorway to take in a deep breath. “I swear, Mama, every time you come up here I gain ten pounds. You can’t keep feeding me like—”
Elijah stopped talking when he saw Camden standing in front of the stove, tending to a sizzling cast-iron skillet. He seemed odd, out of place. He could probably tell you the difference between a salad fork and a dinner fork, and where they should be positioned in a place setting. But few people knew how to cook with a cast-iron skillet. That shit took skill built on years of practice. The care instructions alone demanded a mastery most kitchen novices wouldn’t know how to accomplish.
His shoulders were stiff, and he held the spatula at a weird angle that didn’t seem like the most efficient way to scoop or flip a salmon cake in hot grease. It was amusing to see this man who always looked so put together—even when he was puttering around the house in Elijah’s borrowed clothes—with an old apron tied around his waist and his hair hanging into his face as he watched the sizzling patties carefully.
Awkward and unsure as he may be, he was doing it right. Well, the kitchen wasn’t filled with smoke, and nothing was on fire, so he assumed Camden was doing it right. Warmth spread through Elijah at the disheveled sight of Camden. It was hard to imagine, but his uncertainty in Elijah’s kitchen made him even sexier than before.
As adorable as Camden was at his stove, Elijah knew there was only one reason they weren’t choking on smoke right now. He took in the scene, scanning the room, looking for the only plausible explanation for this “fish out of water” scene. His search landed on his mother sitting at the kitchen table, sipping on a cup of coffee and munching from a plate stacked with salmon cakes and biscuits.
Elijah walked over to the table and greeted his mother with a kiss to her cheek. “What’s that about?” She looked up at him, following the finger he had pointed to Camden at the stove.
“Last I checked, they called it making breakfast, son.” Elijah glanced over at Camden, who lifted his head long enough to greet Elijah with a smile and then returned his focus to the skillet in front of him.
“You mean you let Camden make my salmon cakes?” Elijah paused at the disappointment in his own voice. His voice took on that whiny sound that only an annoyed kid could produce when talking to his parents. “Ma, you know I love those.”
“You do know I can hear you, right, Elijah?” Camden’s question didn’t sway him. As cool as Camden was, Elijah doubted the man could replicate his mother’s skill when it came to this dish. There were just some foods only certain people got to make, and salmon cakes were always made by his mother.
“Camden, I’m sure you’ve tried really hard, but I’m not about to let you mess this up for me. My mouth is all the way fixed for some salmon cakes this morning. I ain’t even about to play with you.”
Camden moved the frying salmon cakes from the skillet onto a platter. He turned the range off, then brought the batch of food over to the table. “Why don’t you at least taste one before you insult my cooking?”
Elijah looked at his mother, then returned his gaze to Camden. He narrowed his eyes before snatching one of the golden-brown croquettes out of the plate. “Salt and pepper is not seasoning. If that’s all I taste, I swear I will get my gun.” Elijah took an angry bite and chewed. “Got me in here eating bland-ass salmon cakes early in the morning.”
He was about to say something else when his taste buds recognized the familiar savory flavors filling his senses. He thought it had to be a fluke. No way could Camden, or anyone else as far as Elijah was concerned, cook this signature dish like his mama. He popped the last bit into his mouth, waiting to be proved right. But as he chewed, he could feel the satisfied groan climbing from his chest, looking for an escape through his lips. Elijah went to grab a second cake from the serving platter, but Camden placed a hand on his arm and stared at him with a skeptical lifted brow. “What?” Elijah chimed with a mouthful of food. “I’m just making sure they’re not poisonous. It’s my job to serve and protect.”
Camden folded his arms in front of his chest as he leveled his gaze at Elijah. Apparently, he wasn’t buying Elijah’s bullshit about checking for poison in the food. “A’ight, I can’t lie, these are good.”
Elijah swallowed, humming not so quietly as he savored each bite. He knew Camden had a smartass “I told you so” waiting for him. He didn’t care in the least. This was his favorite dish, and a man who was becoming more likable by the hour had toiled to gift him with this spread. Showing his appreciation by humming was the bare minimum Elijah could do at the moment.
The oven timer dinged, pulling Camden away from the table and giving Elijah the chance to slide into the seat next to his mother. “How’d you get him to slave in the kitchen?”
His mother shook her head, then sipped from her cup of coffee. “It’s salmon cakes and biscuits, Elijah, not a seven-course meal. I don’t think slaving is an accurate description.”
He took the serving tongs and placed several of the fried patties on his plate. He’d pay for these later in the gym, but for now, he’d eat until his stomach couldn’t hold any more. “I’ve made these before, Mama. They ain’t as easy as you make them out to be, especially without a deep fryer. You’ve got that boy in there sweating over hot grease and the inferno of the oven. How’d you do it?”
Elijah was partially distracted as he watched Camden bend over to remove what looked like another batch of his mother’s homemade biscuits. Elijah licked his lips, not sure if it was because of the food or the perfect way his sweatpants molded Camden’s ass. He didn’t have the chance to figure out which before he heard his mother chuckling beside him.
“I know this might be a strange concept to you, son. But you’d be surprised what you can get people to do if you simply ask.”
Elijah glanced at his mother and watched as she used her coffee mug to hide the glib smile on her face. Asking. It seemed like a simple thing. Except there was nothing simple about him and Camden. Yeah, they’d talked, and talking made it so much easier for Elijah to give in to the very thing he desired. But knowing what you wanted and knowing you could have it were two different things.
There was no doubt in Elijah’s mind he wanted Camden. If Camden gave him the chance, Elijah would do all he could to explore what they shared. All he needed was the opportunity, and Elijah could move mountains if he put his mind to it.
His mother’s soft hand rested on top of his as she stood up from the table. “I already took some plates downstairs to Manny and Viv, and one upstairs to your father. I think it’s gonna be a lazy day for everyone in the house until we leave tonight. Maybe now might be a perfect time for you to kiss the cook?”
Elijah squinted his eyes and looked up to her. “Now see, that seemed like a fantastic idea before my mama said it. No man wants to hear things like that coming from their mom.”
Evelyn waved a dismissive hand at him before she spoke again. “Boy, how do you think you got here?”
Elijah covered his ears with his hands as he shook his head back and forth. “Nope, nope, nope. We will not have this discussion. You will not ruin sex for me for the rest of my life by putting that image in my head.”
Camden returned to the table, lookin
g from Elijah to Evelyn and back as he tried to decipher what was going on. “What exactly did I miss?”
“Just my grown child behaving like a two-year-old. I’ll leave him in your capable hands, Camden. I’m gonna make a quick run to the market so I can teach Camden how to make your favorite dinner before we leave tonight.”
“Give me a minute to throw some clothes on, and I’ll take you, Ma.”
Evelyn shook her head. “It’s just at the corner, Elijah. I can handle carrying a few bags up the street. You stay here and enjoy the quiet.”
As the closing front door clicked behind her, Elijah stared at the man standing next to him. Camden gleamed with laughter, his shoulders were loose, and the hard planes of his face were smoothed by the brightness of his smile. The smile was so inviting, Elijah grabbed Camden by the hand and pulled him down until Camden was sitting in his lap.
“Thank you for all of this. It was a thoughtful gesture.” It was a simple act, but from Camden, someone Elijah was becoming more emotionally entangled with by the hour, its meaning ran much deeper than that. It was comfort, a reminder that he was safe and taken care of. Which was strange, considering Camden was the one who needed reassurance in this scenario.
The kitchen was a place he was either alone or where he was cooking to care for others. Besides his family, no one had ever taken care of him. In this one deed, Camden fed more than Elijah’s stomach. He’d filled his soul.
“I really enjoyed it. I hope you didn’t let my mother pressure you into cooking this morning.”
Camden slid his arm around Elijah’s neck, fingering his locs. “Your mom could pretty much convince me of anything. I think she could out-lawyer even me. But I was happy to learn how to cook your favorite meal. It’s the least I could do.”
Camden continued to stroke Elijah’s hair as their gazes connected. It was strange, the soothing way the simple repetitive motion made Elijah tighten his hold on Camden. Elijah didn’t allow many people to touch his hair. He wasn’t one of those dudes who allowed people to pet him like he was some oddity to be examined. But the simple way Camden touched his hair, as if it were something to be revered, made Elijah’s chest fill with the warmth and comfort that only came with the first buds of blossoming trust.
As smiling blue eyes look down at him, he recognized who he held in his arms. This wasn’t the man who walked out on him. This was a new man. The man Elijah was falling in love with.
Acknowledging that should’ve scared the hell out of Elijah. They were hiding out in his house because someone was trying to kill Camden, and according to Camden, even if they survived the Path, Camden’s father would never allow them to be together. Either of those things should’ve made Elijah run. But being here with Camden like this forced Elijah to admit the truth. There wasn’t anything that would make him run from Camden. Why would he when Camden possessed everything Elijah needed to survive? Camden held his heart.
He pressed a quick kiss to Camden’s cheek and nuzzled the curve of Camden’s neck as he thought of the words his mother had gifted him with. Maybe Evelyn Stephenson was right. Perhaps he would be surprised at the answer if he got up the nerve to ask Camden for the commitment he wanted. Maybe if Elijah pushed everything aside, he could find the strength to tell Camden exactly what he needed.
“If I had known fried ground fish patties would make you this happy, I’d have asked your mom for the recipe the first night your family arrived.”
Elijah pulled back just enough to take in the sight of Camden. Serenity beamed outward from the sparkle in his eye to the brightness of his smile. Camden was happy. Whether he noticed it in himself, Elijah didn’t know. But watching Camden as he reclined in his embrace told Elijah all he needed to recognize it. Whatever dreams Elijah had for tomorrow, Camden shared them.
“Why wouldn’t I be happy? I’ve got everything I want. My mother’s salmon cakes and biscuits, and you.”
A faint rose tint colored Camden’s cheeks as he closed his eyes. His long lashes fanning against the apples of his reddened cheeks made Elijah’s heart swell at the thought his words could have a physical impact on Camden.
“Your sister-in-law was right. You really are a sweet talker.”
There was no sense in denying the truth. Elijah’s charm, when it came to flirting, was a proven fact. He wasn’t much of a talker in most situations, but when it came to pulling the interest of a man, Elijah’s tongue was magic.
“Can’t lie, your man got game for days. But that wasn’t a line, Camden.”
Camden stiffened in Elijah’s arms, the easy smile he wore disappearing as he focused his attention on Elijah. “Then what was it?”
Elijah took a deep breath before speaking, trying to steady his heartbeat. For a moment, Elijah thought his heart was racing because of resurfacing fears. But sitting here in the quiet corner of his kitchen with Camden gathered in his arms, Elijah realized what he was feeling was excitement, anticipation, and hope.
“A request—” Elijah opened his mouth to let the question burning in his heart make its way to the air, but then he stopped to take in the vision of Camden. A slightly crooked smile softened the sharp angles of Camden’s face, warming Elijah’s heart.
He took a slow, cautious breath, afraid to disturb the moment in even the slightest of ways. He’d spent five years trying to erase the night he’d shared with Camden from his memory, and now, he’d give anything to preserve this moment where Camden sat in his lap, melting him from the inside out.
“Elijah, everything all right?”
For the first time in a long time, everything in his world was perfect. His home was filled with love and laughter, and the center of all that comforting heat had radiated from the man in Elijah’s arms. The timing was wrong, the situation was for shit, but everything about the way Camden made him feel was so incredibly right, Elijah ached at the thought of losing it when this was all over.
“I know this is the worst possible time, Camden.” Elijah picked up one of Camden’s hands, turning it palm-side up, placing a gentle kiss in it. “But when this is all over, I need us to have a conversation.”
Camden’s smile faded slightly as his eyebrow rose. “Regarding?”
Elijah kissed his palm again, savoring the tiny shiver rippling through Camden’s body in response. “Us. I need us to be very clear about where this is going.”
“As far as I remember, Elijah, my calendar is open for the next couple of days. I’m sure I can make time for a heart-to-heart anytime you like.”
Elijah shook his head. Although the thought of spilling the contents of his heart this very minute made Elijah’s pulse jump with excitement, he knew now wasn’t the time. There was too much going on, and Camden was too dependent on Elijah for his survival for either of them to be certain that this growing bond was born of their need for each other instead of the severity of the situation.
“Not the right time,” Elijah answered. “Too much going on. But the second this is over, I need us to lay our cards on the table. No running this time.”
Camden dropped his chin and closed his eyes. The lure of his cocky grin was gone, replaced by what looked to be shame.
“Elijah, I—”
Elijah released Camden’s hand and placed a single finger over his lips, silencing him before he could continue speaking.
“You weren’t the only one running, baby. I’m a cop. Finding you, tracking you down for answers would’ve been a simple task with my background. Instead, I let my bruised ego get the better of me. I knew what we were the minute your lips touched mine. And yet, I was so afraid of rejection, I gave up without fighting. Not this time. This time, I’m not letting you walk away before I’ve said my piece.”
Elijah cupped Camden’s cheek in his palm, softly stroking the morning stubble beneath his thumb, loving the mild hint of gruffness it gave his gentleman. “Is that all right with you, Mr. Assistant District Attorney?”
A quick nod and a smile was Camden’s only response as he leaned in to kiss
Elijah. Elijah covered Camden’s mouth with his hand and shook his head. “Salmon cakes are great for eating, but not so much for kissing. Give me a few minutes to freshen up, and then we’ll finish this in the garage.”
Camden’s eyes sparked with amusement as a quiet chuckle slipped through his closed lips. He pressed a kiss to the inside of Elijah’s palm and removed the hand from his mouth.
“You have the best ideas, Lieutenant.”
“If you think that’s something, wait until you hear my next suggestion, then.”
Camden licked his lips. The tiny bit of his rosy tongue sliding across the fullness of his bottom lip made Elijah’s cock tighten in his shorts. “Whatever it is, Elijah, I can’t wait to hear it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
CAMDEN looked around the one-room garage apartment and smiled. It wasn’t small, but Camden was certain it could fit inside the room he’d slept in as a child in his parent’s mansion, ten times over.
His mother would call it cozy or some other snobby description, he was sure. But to Camden, since the first time Elijah had shared this space with him, he’d felt more cared for, more cherished than he’d ever experienced in his life.
The sound of the bathroom faucet being turned off pulled Camden from his musings. He cupped his hands together, blowing into them and making sure that the toothpaste and mouthwash he’d used a few moments ago were working. The tastiness of breakfast aside, Camden was glad to have his palate cleansed. The only thing he wanted to taste was Elijah, and if he had his way, that’s exactly what he’d get to do in “Five, four, three, two….”
“Now, we’re all minty fresh.”
Camden turned around to greet a smiling Elijah. “Good, so can we make out now?”
Elijah’s shoulders shook with laughter. “You know, I hope you don’t think every time I bring you here it’s only to sex you, Cam.”
“I’d be offended if that wasn’t the reason you were bringing me here.” Camden stepped closer into Elijah’s space, running his fingers along the hem of Elijah’s T-shirt and dragging it until deep mahogany-brown skin filled his vision and made Camden’s heart race with desire.