A smile dances across her lips as my hand moves to cup her breast as I work her peaked nipple between my fingers. She shifts her hips into me, coming flush against my length. Another moan releases from her throat, and the sound nearly overtakes me with desire. She wraps her hand around the back of my head, urging me closer to her. I comply without hesitation, rolling her onto her back, clasping her hands above her head.
“Good morning,” I say with a kiss.
She laughs. “It isn’t morning. It’s the middle of the night.”
We fall into each other again, needing her body close to mine and my body flush to hers. We fall back to sleep after our bodies come together, resting my eyes closed with the most captivating woman wrapped against my chest, studying every curve and dip of her body, every freckle and scar. My arm strokes against hers as her breathing slows against my chest. I place a gentle kiss to the top of her head before my body drifts once more into a deep sleep.
“Wake up, Jake.” I hear a gentle, soft voice call my name. I flutter my eyes a few times as they adjust to the light around me. My eyes focus on a beautiful, dark-haired woman laying her head across my chest, staring eagerly toward me, her eyes are as blue as the water that has calmed after the storm of yesterday.
“Good morning,” I say with a stretch before returning my fingers to Cammie’s hair.
“How’d you sleep?” she asks, her eyes light and her body relaxed.
“Better than I have in years,” I say, grinning with content. “You?”
“Mmm… I slept alright,” she says, twirling her finger through her hair, a smirk tilting the corners of her lips. “This attractive man wouldn’t let me sleep. Just kept waking me all night to his every whim and desire.”
“Oh, is that so?” I say, pressing my fingers into her ribcage, earning me a burst of laughter.
“Jake,” she squeals. “Jake, stop!”
I comply, pulling her toward me for a moment before the day starts. We lie together, syncing our breaths as we stare out over the water. “I don’t want to leave,” she whispers so quietly I can barely make out her words.
“I don’t want to either,” I say, placing a kiss onto her forehead, my arm wrapped around her, stroking her hair. “Do you want some coffee before we go?”
She nods her head. I stand, pulling my pants over my bare legs. “Are you checking me out?” I ask with dramatic shock.
“I would never,” she says, placing a hand against her chest, her eyebrows waggling as her smile stretches the width of her square jaw.
“Mhm…” I say as I lean in to give her a kiss before I make coffee, marking the start of our day. We sit and talk about yesterday and last night. I express concern that she should take it easy after her accident.
She nods in understanding. “I had a dream last night where I was drowning.”
I reassure her we won’t go out in a storm again and she promises to always wear her life jacket. I’m relieved with our plan moving forward.
Cammie reminisces about the words we spoke and the actions of last evening. She has such a mouth on her it makes me blush. I nearly spit out my coffee when she starts to describe my manhood with eyes wide.
“I mean, I didn’t even know if it was, you know, going to fit.”
After a hardy chuckle I stand up, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, whispering the words I hope to whisper for years to come. “I love you.”
“I love you,” she says, wrapping her arms around my waist.
“Alright, we better get going, or I’m going to be late for work.”
“Fineeee,” she says, tossing herself back onto the couch with a pout.
We’re dressed and out the door a few minutes later heading toward town in the cab of my truck. I made a playlist on my Spotify of the bands Cammie said she liked to listen to. She’s currently rocking out to Jack’s Mannequin, and I’m loving every second of it, watching as she loses herself to the lyrics, flipping her hair side to side as she whips her head back and forth. I laugh along, knowing the words but much rustier than Cammie.
We approach town, and the weather socks in with heavy rain, whereas, at my house, the clouds were high in the sky, giving the illusion it was a brighter day. Cammie seems to notice the difference in weather. “Something feels eerie.”
I feel it, too, but decide to keep my observations to myself. “Should clear off later and be a nicer day.”
I look over at her to find her smiling back at me, but worry crinkles the corners of her eyes. She reaches over, grabbing my hand and interlocking her fingers in mine as she continues to sing along to the music. I pull up the hill toward her house and pull behind a vehicle out front I don’t recognize.
“That’s weird,” I hear Cammie mutter under her breath as she looks toward her yard. Her arm tenses when her eyes land on the man sitting on her front porch. He’s dressed in dark jeans with a button-down shirt. His dark hair is gelled back into a perfect, greasy blob, indicating to me he’s as much the douchebag as he looks.
“Oh my God,” Cammie mutters.
“Who is that?” I ask, my protective instincts amplifying by the second. The man stands from the porch and starts striding toward the car—toward Cammie.
“It’s Brandon,” she says, turning to me unsure of how to proceed.
“Oh,” I say, trying not to sound as disappointed as I am.
She hops out of the car, and I follow. Brandon eyes Cammie and smiles predatorily. I round the car and watch Brandon’s smile drop. My jaw’s clenched tight, fear coursing through my body.
“Who is this?” Brandon gestures his hand at me, looking back at Cammie.
“This is Jake. Jake, this is Brandon,” she weakly introduces us to each other. I offer a hand to shake, but Brandon just nods his head in recognition.
“Why are you here?” Cammie asks Brandon, anger accentuating her words.
“I needed to see you. After that text––”
Wait, what text? My mind piques with interest.
“You know, the one where you said you miss me?” Suddenly, the wind is knocked out of my lungs, and I stumble back a step. Cammie looks over at me, shaking her head, worry plaguing her eyes. I try and look calmer than I feel, because inside, all I want to do is leave.
“What text?” I look toward Cammie who avoids my gaze.
When had Cammie texted Brandon? Was this recent, while we were getting to know one another? Questions begin to flood my mind as I think of the possibility that Cammie would leave with him. I try my best to think rationally, reminding myself how Cammie made a promise—one she intended to keep—just a few hours ago.
But Cammie likes to play it safe, she’s told me before, love is all consuming. I wonder if it’ll be too much and she’ll settle for a future with Brandon. But she wouldn’t, would she?
“I made a mistake,” Brandon continues as if I’ve said nothing. He takes a step toward Cammie, reaching for her hand. I place my arm between him and her, shaking my head, telling him with my body language not to lay a hand on her.
“It’s okay,” Cammie says, reassuring me, resting her hand against my arm.
Brandon looks between me and Cammie with accusation behind his eyes. “Wait, are you—" He spits laughter. “Are you two screwing?”
“Brandon,” Cammie hisses with frustration.
“That’s not what we’re doing,” I reaffirm. “Not like it’s any of your goddamn business.”
He rubs his hand through his greasy hair. “That’s just great, Cammie. You’re with this guy?” He gestures toward me while shouting toward Cammie. “You really have lowered your standards.”
“That’s enough, man,” I say, stepping between him and Cammie. He can insult me, but he doesn’t get to come in here insulting the woman I love.
“Oh, yeah?” He lifts his chin, urging me to hit that smug look off his face. “What are you going to do about it?” I shake my head, trying to breathe through it.
That is, until Brandon lays his hands against my chest, s
hoving me a step back. I clench my fists next to my side, knowing I could knock him to the ground with one punch. He’s a scrawny city guy who looks like he hasn’t spent a single day in the outdoors.
“She’s not the one who fucked up. That was all you,” I say pointedly, looking down on Brandon as I step toward him.
“Jake, please,” Cammie pleads with me, pulling at my wrist, her voice weak. I turn to look at her and see tears in her eyes. I step away from Brandon, back toward Cammie.
“Cam?” It’s a question, but it comes out fervent. Still, she answers.
“Please, just go,” she begs me, breaking eye contact. I swallow the lump in my throat and shove down the nauseous feeling in my gut.
“She asked you to leave,” Brandon says, his voice coy behind me.
My jaw clenches, and I turn around to look at him standing there, a cocky smile strewn across his face. As if reading my mind, and the urge to knock him to the ground, her voice comes again.
“Leave, Jake,” I hear Cammie demand.
Her words send a devastating pang throughout my body. I nod, doing as she says, stepping back around to my truck, hopping into the driver’s seat. I throw the car in drive just in time to look over and see Brandon fucking waving at me with a sinister grin.
Cammie’s face is drawn with fear, it kills me to drive away knowing she’s struggling, knowing I could be there for her if it weren’t for Brandon.
“God damnit,” I yell as I hit my hand against the steering wheel.
I just got her, I’m not ready to give her up, not after last night. I try to tell myself she’ll choose me. She knows what we have and wouldn’t walk away from us.
But this is what Cammie does, and I have continued to push her in the direction of something I’ve wanted her to be. Maybe she wants someone she doesn’t lose herself in. Someone who doesn’t sweep her off her feet and make her feel like the most important person in their world.
More than anything, I’m afraid I’ve lost her, just like she said I would.
Nineteen
Cammie
I fight back tears as I see Jake pull away in his truck. I breathe deeply before turning back around to Brandon. He steps toward me, wrapping his arms around my waist, nuzzling his head into my neck.
“Brandon,” I shout. “Get off me,” I demand, and he does as I ask.
“Sorry,” he says, his face reflecting the truth in his words.
“I’m not sure what you are looking for here,” I calm myself before continuing, “I think we need to talk since you came all this way.”
“I want you back,” he pleads, reaching for my hand. I pull it away quickly.
“If we are going to talk, you need to respect that I don’t want you to touch me. Not after…” The memories of walking in on him come flooding back to my brain.
I move past him and walk inside, unlocking the door, an odd sight seeing as how no one locks their doors in Smuggler’s Cove. It’s such a small community with no crime other than the wildlife breaking in on occasion.
Once inside, an angry voice floats over from the living room sofa. “Hey there, asshole.” Hilary snaps her book closed, coming to a stand.
“Hilary,” I plead, my voice becoming weaker by the second.
“I’m surprised you let him in after you caught him screwing his secretary. Little stereotypical, don’t you think Brandy?” She spits fire at Brandon who sulks his shoulders and nods, taking the heat.
“I saw him pull up, and I locked the door. I figured he would leave before you got home. Obviously, he waited it out.” She finally meets my eyes and drops her shoulders in defeat, seemingly knowing where this road will end. She shakes her head, hoping it isn’t true but when she sees me nod she sighs, “I’ll leave you two be. Brandon,” she groans as she leaves through the front door.
I take a seat on the sofa, tossing my head into my hands. How has everything fallen apart so quickly? A few hours ago, I was blissfully happy with Jake, and now Brandon is here, screwing everything up.
“What do you want from me?” I ask, defeat stinging my throat. I can’t lose Jake, and I worry the longer I’m here in this conversation, the longer he’ll think I’ve chosen Brandon.
He kneels on the floor near my legs and reaches out for my hands. I don’t pull them from him this time. His dramatics are pathetic, always disingenuous.
“I messed up. I didn’t realize what I had until you walked out of my life,” he says, emotion gripping every word. “I came here to get you back. Once you texted me, I knew I had a shot, and I knew I had to come here.”
“I texted you weeks ago, Brandon.” I shake my head with confusion. “Why now?”
“I, I—" He stumbles over his words. “I had to get time off from work and wrap some loose ends up.” He’s always been a shit liar.
“What loose ends?”
“Just stuff with the apartment.” He shakes his head, breaking eye contact.
“Oh my God, Brandon,” I stand, tossing his hands off my lap. “You can’t even be honest with me now?”
“Calm down,” he tries to shush me.
“No,” I raise my voice louder. “I’m tired of being calm.”
“Cammie,” His tone is pleading.
“Save it, Brandon.” I throw a hand up toward his chest. “You come all the way to Alaska to try and get me back, and you can’t even tell the truth. It’s pathetic, really.”
“What do you want me to say?” He tosses his hands at my feet.
“I want you to stop fucking lying to me.” My voice ice cold.
“Okay,” he says, taking a breath. “I was with her.” My face falls as the memory of her, naked in our bed, comes back to me. “She doesn’t mean anything to me. She’s just someone to fill my bed—our bed.”
“Does she know that?” I say through gritted teeth.
“Well, I—" he stumbles again. Liar. “I haven’t told her, no.”
I throw a hand through my hair, and my face becomes flushed with anger. “You are such a piece of shit. I trusted you,” I lower my voice to a growl.
“It wasn’t all me, Cammie.” He shakes his head.
“What?” I pull away, feeling as though I’ve been slapped.
“You never gave me any piece of you,” his breath heaves in his chest. “You always kept me at arm’s length. Never let me in, not really,” he shakes his head and continues to unravel my shortcomings. “It never meant I didn’t love you, but you never loved me.”
The last of his words ring true in my mind. I know he loved me. I have no doubt he loved and cared about me. He just did an awful job of staying faithful and communicating his needs to me. His words hold a new meaning to me, and the recognition knocks the wind out of me.
“I didn’t love you,” I say softly, without ill intention.
“No, I guess not.” Brandon accepts the truth.
“I’m sorry,” I say, meaning every word.
“I am, too.” He nods in understanding that this relationship between the two of us had an expiration date years ago. We overstayed our welcome for quite some time, never falling into one another, and instead, drifting apart. His coming here doesn’t change the fact I would never be able to love him. He just isn’t my person. He isn’t Jake.
We sit quiet for a moment before Brandon asks, “Do you love him?”
“Who?” I ask, already knowing who he is speaking of.
“That guy,” he nods his head toward the door. “Jake.”
Without hesitation, I nod in reply.
“Lucky guy,” he says with the click of his jaw. I smile, knowing that, although Brandon has clipped his words, he truly means what he says.
“Thanks.” I walk toward Brandon, tossing my arms around his shoulders. He places a kiss onto my cheek, and I notice the contact doesn’t set me on fire like Jake’s does.
“I need to go,” I whisper into his ear.
“I know,” he holds onto me a moment longer before releasing me for the last time.
I se
e him off and thank him for coming because if he hadn’t come, I fear we would never have had the closure we both needed. It feels odd, really, knowing I spent years of my life with this man and it has come to a finite ending. Knowing we will never touch again like we used to. Never share moments of happiness in each other’s company.
Our story is over. It has been for some time, and it is time to look toward the future.
I look at my watch and start heading toward town, knowing that the only person I need to talk to is Jake.
Twenty
Jake
Ryan’s car is parked out front of the office when I pull up. I jog inside out of the rain and see what he’s doing at work on a Sunday morning.
“Hey, I was just about to call you,” Ryan says as I open the front door.
“Why’s that?” I ask, avoiding eye contact with him.
“We need to go to Benton. The weather has cleared, and we have to meet our deadline.”
“We need to go today?” I ask, feeling frustration radiate through my body.
“Yep, that’s what the boss says.”
I shake my head but realize I don’t have a choice. “Alright.”
Maybe the distance will do me good. I need to get away from all of this with Cammie. Take some time to think about our relationship. Because as much as I love her, I don’t know if I will ever be enough for her.
“You look like shit,” Ryan observes.
“Thanks,” I reply, irritated.
“You okay?”
“Nope, but this will help,” I say, grabbing my camp bag and heading out to the truck. Ryan follows in tow.
“If you aren’t ready to go after your accident yesterday, I understand.”
“I’m fine,” I say, tossing my bag into the bed of my truck.
“You don’t seem fine,” he pries.
“I’m fine,” I growl, slamming my truck door shut. I stop and swipe a hand down my face.
Ryan piles into the passenger side of my truck and slams the door shut. “I’m in love with her,” I say.
“I know,” Ryan says, not making eye contact.
Every Step of the Way: (Smugglers Cove #1) Page 17