by J. B. McGee
“Holden?”
“Yeah?” I smile at Cammie, thankful she pulled me from the nightmare that comes if I stay in those memories too long.
She reaches out and pulls my hand from the console and threads her fingers with mine. The one thing about this car I miss is a center gear shift. It always reminded me of a manual, which is what my sorry ass father taught me to drive on. Keeping my hand on there has always given me some kind of comfort I can’t place.
But in this car, I’m stuck just leaning onto the wide leather center console. Of course, clearly, I’ve never had Cammie in the car with me before because having my hand resting on her leg and her little hand wrapped up in my big one is so much fucking better than a gear shift or any part of this expensive hunk of metal I drive around. “So,” she says, “if someone had told me nine years ago you’d be a firefighter, I wouldn’t have believed them.” She glances around the car. “What do the other guys think about you driving a one-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar car?”
I smirk. “It’s actually a two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar car, but who’s counting?” I glance over and wink at her.
She nods and gives me a small smile.
“And I’m not just a firefighter. That’s not how I make my living. I only do that because it’s a passion. It’s on a volunteer basis. I don’t want the money for it. My income is solely from coding and shit.”
“I didn’t know that,” she says. “That you don’t get paid, I mean. I may have heard through the grapevine your job as a community helper is part-time.”
So, she’s kept tabs on me. Huh. Shrugging off the tenseness in my shoulders, I stare in front of me. “I don’t need the money. The budget is already shit for those guys. I wouldn’t feel right taking something they need more than me.”
“Why’s it a passion?”
She’s dancing all around our past, and I think she knows it—is doing it on purpose even. “Firefighters are first responders. We don’t just put out fires. We often get to medical emergencies before the paramedics. I’m one of those, too, by the way. A paramedic.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. People just assume I’m only a firefighter. I don’t bother correcting them.”
She shifts in her seat, and I hear her swallow. “It’s always confused me as to how you could be such an ass, but have so much compassion for strangers.”
I can’t help but hold my laughter in. “Yeah, well, you know I’m not an ass now, so does it still confuse you?”
“I still don’t understand why out of everything you could do that you choose to put your life in danger doing those things.”
“You sound like my mother, Cam.”
“Sorry. Why did you pick those two things? You promised no secrets.”
“I felt helpless when you busted your head open.” That’s not the entire truth, but I bet she’ll be satisfied with that.
She squeezes my hand. “So a hot firefighter and a computer geek.”
And this is why I’ve loved this girl for as long as I can remember. Unlike Charity, she knows how to take a hint.
“You are so confusing.”
“It wasn’t confusing at all when you acted like you didn’t care about me at the auction yet your body responded to my proximity, reacted to my touch, and melded into me like we were the final two pieces that completed a puzzle,” I say, the sarcasm thick and heavy.
She sucks in a breath as I release her hand and strum her thigh.
“And it’s not confusing that it turns out you’ve been keeping tabs on me for the last nine years.”
“Hard to not keep tabs when you’re a community helper—”
I laugh. “What are we? In kindergarten again and talking about all the people who keep our little town safe?”
“Ass. And as for the coding, that’s not a secret, either. You’ve done nearly every website around here.”
“You call me ass a lot.” I never thought I’d admit this, but it’s hot as fucking hell coming out of her mouth. “I like coding. There’s a lot of money to be made in creating video games. And then, of course, there’s no shortage of businesses that have crappy websites.” I wonder if she realizes what she’s done in bringing up geeky stuff to me. I chance a glance, and she’s staring at me with a sexy smirk on her face. “Sorry. I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
“No, it’s fine. I love watching you when you are excited like this.”
“It’s not work if you’re doing what you love.” It’s not just tech stuff that has me grinning like a fool. It’s her. “And you like watching me all the time, not just when I’m excited.”
She nudges my arm hard and sends me into the driver’s side door. “Woman, if you make me wreck this car, so help me.”
“Oh. What will you do to me, Holden?” Her voice is dripping with desire. “What if I don’t make you wreck it? What will I get for being a good girl?”
“You’re so bad. You have everyone fooled with that good girl façade.”
Her laughter fills the car. “So, you’re the bad boy who’s good, and I’m the good girl who’s bad?”
“Uh huh. Seems that way.”
I pull into Rind ‘N Grind, and as soon as I’m parked, Cammie grabs my cock. “You want me to show you how bad I am?”
“Fuck, you’re hot.”
She unzips my pants, and I hit the button to make our windows opaque. We have complete privacy in the parking lot of our hangout spot. She keeps making all my wet dreams come true.
Pulling my dick out, she wraps her lips around it and swirls her tongue against the tip. She did this in the cabana, teased me and then I blew it by saying we needed to wait. What the fuck was I thinking then? I just want to lay her back and slam into her. I wrap her hair around my hand and glide her up and down. “Shit, Cam.” I swallow back, my breathing increasing.
Up and down, she blows and sucks me off until I’m rigid and moaning something unintelligible. When she’s taken every last drop, she pops her head up and swallows it all, then smiles deviously. “You owe me, Masters.”
Earlier, I said we should abstain from sex. Sex being defined as my dick in her pussy. My cock begs for me to change my mind, hit it all the way to the back fence, but not quite out of the ballpark. Pushing her back into her seat, I turn her ninety degrees, grabbing her legs and pull them over the console. Unbuttoning and unzipping the jean shorts, I slide them off and spread her as much as this compact space will allow. She props one leg on the dashboard and the other over my shoulder. “I don’t like owing people. I don’t like having outstanding debts, Cammie.”
She sucks in a breath as my tongue thrashes against her throbbing clit. She throws one arm over her head and rakes her fingers of her other hand into my already messy hair. She’s panting. Short little bursts of sound come out of her parted lips as I insert a finger and start fucking her with it. Glancing at her, I stare into her eyes, thankful I can see her face this time.
“Shit, Holden.” She grinds her teeth and bucks her hips into my face. I don’t even care that my car probably looks like it’s a fucking carnival ride. As her breathing increases, I continue my assault on her pussy until she’s clenching all around me and screaming my name. “Holden, yes. Fuck. Shit. Ahhh.” And I thought hearing her ask me to kiss her was the most melodic music to my ears. Hearing her call out my name as she shakes in the pleasure I gave her isn’t like a symphony of hushed major harmonies. It’s every fucking thing.
I lick my lips, and she pushes up and wraps her arms around my neck, bringing my mouth to hers. She kisses me hard, her tongue plunging deep and exploring my mouth like she’s never done it before.
“Thank you,” she says, reaching for Violet’s shorts.
I must admit. I’d hoped to make her speechless. There’s always next time.
I’m still out of breath as I watch him situate his dick in his pants and zip them up. I can’t believe we just did that. But I can. I loved it. I’d do it again. I let out a big exhale and smile at him. He smirks ba
ck, like he completely understands just how flustered he makes me.
It was nice having a conversation with him. Unlike with Oliver, I was interested in everything he had to say. Even about his work. In fact, I could do that all day. I could watch him and listen to him talk about what makes him happy without ever tiring. I’ve missed him. How could I have not realized how much?
But no matter what I asked, no matter how close I got to our past, he managed to avoid the proverbial elephant in the car, nearly consuming all our space. We need to talk about it. We need to acknowledge what happened more than skating around the truth so we can move past it. Of course, I’d say since we can’t seem to keep our hands off each other, we’re doing a pretty good job of moving past it. And maybe he is trying in non-verbal ways to tell me that. He did bring me Violet’s clothes.
He hops out of the car and opens my door for me. He does the same at the entrance of Rind ‘N Grind. “This place is always packed on a Sunday morning, but I guess the number of people hungover is more than usual this morning. Why don’t you go find us a seat? I’ll order.”
I nod and purse my lips. My body is yearning for his touch, for him to place a sweet kiss on my forehead, for him to rub his hands up and down my arms, for him to wrap me into his side like a blanket. But there’s none of that. He just gives me a knowing smile. Is he thinking he knows what I want him to do? Or is he thinking about the way I taste? His smile widens and it causes his eyes to squint a bit. The sun catches them and gives them a special sparkle. How can it be that he’s even more gorgeous today than he was yesterday?
“Or you can stay.”
“No, I’ll go.”
I’m relieved when I find us a seat in the back. I couldn’t even form coherent enough thoughts to tell him what I wanted. Way to go, Cammie.
A few minutes later, and he’s walking to the table with our order. He remembered after all these years what I like here. That’s beyond me.
As I’ve sat here alone, with some distance from him, the only thoughts that have gone through my mind with each passing moment are how much I need to talk about everything we’ve been through. We said we’d be public with our affection even though we haven’t yet. We can banter back and forth like old times. But we won’t stand a chance against the vultures of Magnolia Grove if we can’t work through our haunted past.
I need more than just gestures from him. But should I? He used to always say talk’s cheap. Gah. But then he went and totally became this other person. His actions spoke way louder than anything he ever said. Maybe that’s why I need more than his gestures. I have to get the courage to tell him that, though. And the truth of the matter is I am not sure I’m ready for this to potentially end when I do. We just started. What he said about being my rebound is true for me too. I don’t want him to be that. I want him to be more. I think deep down, I always have.
“Lemon pound cake for you.” He places the huge slice of baked gold in front of me. “And a raspberry orange infused tea.”
I smile. “I can’t believe you remember.”
He glances up to me as he takes a sip of his coffee, then takes a bite from my pound cake. “I don’t know why that’s so hard to believe, Cam.”
Swatting his hand away, I put a barricade around my food and laugh. “I don’t share.” His eyes gleam because Holden Masters is smart enough to know that I’m putting his words back on him, and it’s not just food I’m talking about.
He sets his cup down on the table and puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. All yours.” He looks away, and the thoughts I’d just pushed out of my mind consume me again at his now troubled expression.
I sigh, break it in two, taking one of the good pieces that has the glaze on it, and put it on a napkin. “Half. That’s it. You better take it before I change my mind.” Breaking a smaller piece off one of the halves, I offer it to him.
“That’s not even an eighth, woman.”
“It’s a bite from your side.” Pulling it toward my mouth, I arch a brow. “But if you don’t want it, I’m happy to eat it.”
He grabs my wrist and pulls it to his lips. “Are you actually giving me the best part?”
I nod. “What are friends for?”
Blue eyes narrow. “Did you just friend zone me again?”
Winking, I slip the piece of yellow goodness into his mouth. “What are we, then, Holden? Because it feels kind of in between right now.”
He nods, sipping his drink. “You were naked in my lap, Cam.”
“Some friends do that kind of thing.”
“We’re not some of those friends. Change the subject. We save the definitions of our relationship until after you’ve moved out of Oliver’s place and called off your wedding.”
I take a bite, suddenly too nauseated to eat, but push through it because I’m dizzy. “Fine.”
“Have you thought about where you’re going to stay?”
Ugh. Not as much as I’ve thought about you, Holden. “No.” I sip my tea. “That’s so good. Did you do something extra to it? Because when I get it, it never tastes like this.”
His lips twitch. “I spit in it.”
I kick him under the table. “You did not.”
His throaty laugh eases the tension. “No, I squeeze the rind of a lemon into it. You know, get some of those oils from the zest.”
“Huh.”
“Can’t have too much rind in your grind around here.” He winks.
Hmm. “I didn’t get enough grind this morning, if you know what I mean.” I wink back at him.
He bites his bottom lip, then scoots his chair closer before putting his free hand on my thigh like he did at the auction. “You’re welcome to stay with me. I have a surplus on the grinds.” My breath hitches as his finger swirls on my exposed skin. He leans into my ear. “I’m talking about coffee and tea, tigress. Eat.”
“Damn you, Holden.”
He chuckles. “Seriously, what about Wells?”
I tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear and blow out a breath before breaking another bite off the slice we’re sharing and feeding it to him. “You know he lives an hour away, right?”
“I didn’t realize that. That’s too far.”
“And I really don’t want to move back home. Once you leave that nest, you aren’t supposed to return except for visits, you know.”
He nods and lifts his cup to his lips, blowing before taking a sip. A waft of his coffee fills my nostrils. It smells so good, but I’ve never been able to get used to its aftertaste. “Hear me out.”
“You do realize, Holden, when someone starts a sentence with ‘hear me out’, it usually doesn’t end well.”
He smirks. “What about Mom’s guest house?”
I choke, pick up my tea, and drag in a sip.
He pats my back. “Easy.”
“See, doesn’t end well.”
“Would it make you feel better if you paid her rent?”
“You’re actually serious?”
He tips his cup back and takes a large gulp. “They should consider alcoholic versions of their coffee and tea around here for people who, despite trying to avoid it, are having serious conversations.”
“They probably think it’s a little early to start on booze. But you’re serious about your mom’s?”
He nods. “Yup. It’s not like you have a lot of options.”
“I’ll think about it.”
This time, he grabs a piece of the pound cake and comes at my face with it like it’s a piece of wedding cake that he’s about to smash into my nose. “Open.”
Leaning back, my eyes widen. “If you make a mess on my face with that, I’m going to…going to…”
“That’s supposed to scare me, right?” His nose scrunches as his grin widens, his hand slowly nearing my face. “Because if that’s what you’re trying to do, you’re failing miserably.”
Glancing at the remaining piece, I pick up as much as I can without it completely crumbling from its freshness. I arch a brow. �
�Mine’s bigger than yours.”
“That’s what they all say, sweetheart.” He touches it on my nose. “But you know exactly how big mine is. Now, finish it so we can go.”
With that, I smear it all over his mouth. He licks his lips, narrows his eyes like he’s mad, but his laugh and smirk give him away. “You shouldn’t have done that, Cam.”
I laugh. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” He grabs the last piece and shoves it into his mouth.
“That was supposed to be mine, dammit.”
He leans in as close as he can get and brushes the remnants on his mouth against mine. “I’m willing to share this one time.”
A throat clears behind me. I freeze. Shit. We are in public. People are all around us. My eyes flash open and stare into Holden’s, worried it’s who I think it is. His view moves away from me to the person behind me.
“Ahem.”
Holden grabs a napkin and wipes the cake from his scruff. “Mr. Spencer. It’s uh…it’s good to see you again,” he says as he stands, wipes his hands, and drops the napkin before offering his hand.
I close my lids as tight as possible, hoping I can become invisible. Or maybe if I click my heels three times, I’ll disappear to the home I no longer have.
Turning my head around slowly, I look up into fierce brown eyes. Father’s salt and pepper hair is neatly styled, not a strand out of place. He’s wearing a suit. My guess is he’s here to get pastries and coffee for his small Sunday school class. Out of all the places, though. I don’t say anything, but rather turn in my seat as I grab a napkin and wipe my face and fingers.
Father is glaring at Holden, his jaw tight, his fingers digging into the palms of his hands. He doesn’t reply to Holden or shake his hand. His eyes narrow. “Camellia.” His voice is a low, throaty rumble.
I swallow as I stand. “Yes?”
He rakes me over, his vision spending too much time on my heels. I cross my arms across my chest. How is it that he can make me feel dirty, trashy, and like an utter embarrassment in just a glance? Of course, he has no clue why I’m with Holden. I should have just called them to tell them, but I needed more time to sort through everything. More time alone with Holden is more like it. He squeezes his eyes closed and takes a deep breath. “Let’s go.”