Close to You

by Kristen Proby

  Cami would laugh at me and tell me I’m being silly.

  Which I am.

  I lift the sunflowers out of the passenger seat and walk up to her door. But before I ring the bell, I quickly replace the burned-out lightbulb and shove the old one in my jacket pocket.

  With a deep breath, I ring the bell.

  And wait.

  No answer.

  I glance over at the window and see lights on. She’s definitely home. So I ring the bell again, clear my throat, and wait.

  Is she okay?

  I pull my phone out of my pocket and text her.

  Are you ready? I’m at the door.

  “I’m sorry!” Cami yells, just as I hit send. She’s upstairs, yelling out of an open window. “The door is unlocked. I’ll be down in a second!”

  “What are you doing?” I yell back.

  “It’s girl stuff! You don’t want to know! Just be thankful that you’re a boy.”

  I haven’t been a boy in a very, very long time. I’ll set to reminding her of that tonight.

  I walk inside and back to the kitchen, foraging under the sink and in the cabinets until I find a vase, then arrange the flowers and carry them to the living room and set them on the sofa table.

  When I turn around, my tongue glues itself to the roof of my mouth, making it impossible to speak. But Cami’s eyes are warm with female recognition, and she knows.

  She knows that she’s a fucking knockout in that dress. She knows that her hair looks touchable the way it’s pinned up in that messy knot. And she definitely knows that her legs look long and lean and would be perfect wrapped around my waist.

  Oh, she knows. And I fucking love it.

  Chapter 5

  ~Cami~

  He’s downstairs. In my house. And of course, he’s on time because he’s always on time.

  And I’m not ready.

  I slip my feet into my new Jimmy Choo heels and take a last look in the mirror. Short skirt, carefully sculpted messy hair, sparkly heels.

  I’m ready.

  I take a deep breath and try to remember what Riley said last night when we watched our show. Or, rather, when we tried to watch our show, but I was too keyed up.

  He’s just a man. Just a regular ol’ man. Nothing special there at all.

  From the bottom of the stairs, I stand and watch Landon arrange a bouquet of sunflowers in my vase, fussing over them just like I would, then he turns around and sees me, and all the blood drains from his face. I’m not going to lie, it’s a great ego boost to watch as his eyes rake up and down my body. He has to swallow hard, and when he tries to speak, he has to swallow again.

  Ego boost, indeed.

  Every emotion shows on Landon’s face. It always has. He can be playful and arrogant and, well, a typical confident man, but his face doesn’t lie. That’s what drew me to him from the beginning. I was a young girl being raised by elderly parents, my siblings already out of the house, and this boy would smile at me, and I felt like I was at home.

  I never saw him as a brother, but I did see him as a protector, a friend, and in my girlish fantasies, my prince charming.

  He’s no prince, but he can be charming.

  “Wow,” he finally says with a soft smile. “You’re just beautiful.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” I reply, meaning every word. He’s in black pants and a blue button-down, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His hair is still a bit wet from his shower, curling around his collar.

  I could eat him with a spoon.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks.

  I’m too nervous to be hungry. “Starving,” I lie.

  “Well, then let’s feed you.” He reaches for my hand, but stops himself. “Oh! These are for you.”

  “They’re lovely.” I touch the petals of the yellow blooms and then turn to him. “How did you know they’re my favorite?”

  “I have my ways,” he replies with a wink, and holds his hand out for mine. The fact that this is the first time that Landon has ever held my hand is not lost on me. And the sixteen-year-old in me might be squealing right now.

  But all I can think is how good his big hand feels wrapped around mine. He leads me to his car and opens the door for me, and we’re off. But rather than driving to a restaurant, Landon pulls into his own driveway.

  “Did you forget something?” I ask.

  “Nope. This is where we’re going.” He smiles. “Stay. I’m opening your door, since this is an official date and all.”

  We’re going to his place. What does this mean? I’m not stupid, and I’m no virgin. That ship sailed many moons ago. So this has seduction scene written all over it. Am I ready for that with Landon?

  On the one hand, absolutely. On the other . . . I’m not sure.

  “Stop thinking so hard,” Landon says as he helps me out of the car and leads me to the door. “I am not going to try to poison you with my cooking.”

  “Thank goodness,” I reply with a laugh. “Mia definitely got all of the cooking skills in your family.”

  “I’ve cooked for you before,” he says defensively as he closes the door behind us.

  “I remember.” I shudder, teasing him, then glance into the dining room and feel my jaw drop. “Wow.”

  Candles are lit and more sunflowers are on the table. Soft music is playing through a speaker on the kitchen counter.

  “Dinner is in the oven,” he says. “Have a seat. Would you like some wine? A beer?”

  “What’s for dinner?” I ask.

  “Burgers.”

  “I’ll take the beer.” I sit at the table and watch all six feet of sexy man clumsily pull dinner out of the oven and plate it, then walk toward me. “Is that from Burgerville?”

  “Of course. It’s your favorite.”

  I blink at the plate before me, then look up at Landon as he sits next to me, rather than across from me. “You remember that?”

  “No onions, right? With extra pickles.”

  Now I’m hungry. “I haven’t had this in a very long time.” I take a bite and sigh. “So good.”

  “I got you a strawberry milkshake too.”

  “I’ll have it for dessert.” I grin and sip my beer, immediately relaxing. “Remember that time that you, Mia, and I went to Burgerville and Mia tried to tell the cooks in the back that they were doing it wrong?”

  Landon laughs and nods. “She’s always been bossy when it comes to food.”

  “She’s just always been bossy.” I munch my fries. “But her heart is in the right place. I love that girl.”

  “She loves you too,” Landon says as he reaches over, grips my wrist in his hand, and takes a bite of the fries in my fingers.

  “You have fries.”

  “Yours taste better.”

  “Okay, tell me the truth.”

  “Always my goal,” he replies, and sips his beer.

  “Are you okay with being home?”

  He smiles. “Lucas asked me the same thing today. It was something I had to wrap my head around. It’s not that I hate Portland. My family is here, and this is a fun city. But—”

  “But you enjoyed saving the world,” I say.

  “I didn’t save the world, but I enjoyed what I did.”

  “So how do you feel?” I raise a brow. “You didn’t answer the question.”

  “I feel better every day.” He sits back and watches my face. “I feel really good.”

  “I’m glad. You were so sad when you got home.” His eyes narrow and he cocks his head to the side. “I saw it. But there’s less sad now. I’m glad.”

  “And how are you, Camille?” he asks, still watching me. “We haven’t talked much since you and Brian split.”

  “I didn’t think people were supposed to talk about their exes on dates.”

  “We’re more than people. Besides, I really want to know.” He gathers our empty plates and sets them in the sink, then lifts his beer. “Shall we sit in the living room?”

  “Sure.” I follow him to th
e couch, toe off my shoes, and sit, my feet pulled up under me. “I’m doing great. Brian and I are still friends. He’s a really great man, and he’ll always be my friend. I just shouldn’t be married to him.”

  “Well, that’s a CliffsNotes version if I ever heard one.” He shakes his head and watches me, willing me to spill more, but I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.

  “I’m glad that you’re okay.” Landon’s voice is soft. “You look fantastic.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What else is new with you?” he asks.

  “Honestly, not much. With the business, I pretty much just work. Which sounds pathetic.”

  “No, it sounds like you’re dedicated. So, you work and sleep?”

  “That about sums it up.”

  “Hmm,” he says, eyeing me with humor-filled eyes. “When was the last time you went to the movies?”

  “It’s been a long time. But there’s a new one I wouldn’t mind seeing.”

  We spend another hour talking about movies we’ve seen or want to see, laughing and just enjoying each other. I haven’t enjoyed myself so much with a man in . . . ever.

  Even with my ex-husband, and that’s a sad state of affairs all on its own.

  “I should take you home,” Landon says, looking at the time on his phone. “We both have to get up early for work.”

  I keep my face neutral, but I’m a bit thrown. I was expecting him to try to seduce me, here on this couch.

  But he stands and throws our empty beers away as I slide my feet back in my shoes, then escorts me to his car and drives me home.

  I reach for the handle, but he stops me. “Date’s not over,” he says with a wink.

  He walks just behind me to the door. I can feel his body heat in the cool winter evening, and I want to lean back against him.

  Instead, I unlock the door and turn around to face him.

  “I had a good time.”

  “Me too.” He brushes his fingertips down my hairline, tucking a stray strand behind my ear, as he leans in and brushes his lips tenderly over mine. He grips my neck in his palm and proceeds to give me the sweetest, most gentle kiss of my life. “Good night.”

  He backs away and I turn to open the door, but the next thing I know, I hear Landon whisper “Fuck it,” and I’m spun around and pushed against the still-closed door, and Landon’s hands are fisted in my hair and his lips are on mine. More urgently this time, licking and tasting me as if he’s been starving for me.

  I grip his shoulders and hold on for dear life, praying this never ends. His lips are ridiculous. His touch is firm but reverent. And when he growls deep in his throat, I’m completely lost to him.

  As the kiss slows, he whispers against my lips, “That’s the good kind.”

  Finally, he eases back, brushes his nose over mine, and with a deep breath, turns and jogs down to his car.

  I walk into my house in a fog. Did that just happen? I stare at the sunflowers on the sofa table and touch my lips with my fingertips. They’re still wet. I can still taste him.

  It totally just happened.

  I WAKE TO the smell of coffee. Which is impossible because I don’t even own a coffeemaker. I frown and throw an old T-shirt and yoga pants on and pad downstairs. Someone is moving about my kitchen.

  I stop in the doorway, completely surprised. Landon is at the stove, flipping bacon in a pan and jumping back when it spatters at him. Scoot is nibbling at kibble in his bowl.

  “How did you get in here?” I ask.

  Landon’s head whips around. He smiles, allowing his eyes to rake up and down me. “Good morning, beautiful.”

  “Good morning. How did you get in here?”

  “Well, babe, I don’t want to lie to you.” He sighs and turns to place the cooked bacon on a paper towel, but doesn’t finish his thought.

  “And?”

  “That’s it. I don’t want to lie. Or, I could just say, it’s none of your business.”

  “Uh-huh. Okay, then why are you here?”

  He shakes his head. “It’s really flattering how excited you are to see me. I thought you could use a nice balanced breakfast before work. You say you don’t have time to eat in the morning, and I’m making time.”

  “I am happy to see you,” I admit softly. “I’m just surprised.” And that might be the understatement of the year.

  He leans over the island and kisses me chastely, then hands me a piece of bacon. “This will tide you over until I scramble the eggs.”

  “When did I get a coffeemaker?”

  “This morning. Mia told me you didn’t have one.”

  “You didn’t have to buy me a coffeemaker.” But oh dear God, how good does it smell!

  “I don’t have to do much of anything,” he replies, and pours me a cup, then passes it to me. “I wanted to bring you breakfast.”

  “I didn’t think you could cook.”

  “I’m not half-bad at morning food.”

  “No, you’re not,” I murmur as I chew the bacon, still not completely awake. I take a sip of the coffee and hum as the hot liquid works its way down my throat. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I should go get ready for work.”

  “Eat first. Then you can go get ready and I’ll answer some e-mails and wait for you.”

  “Why would you wait?”

  He glances back at me like I’m just not keeping up with him. “Because I’ll drive you to work. I’m going to the same place.”

  I frown, but he walks around the island to me, and before I can speak, he plants those lips on mine. “Don’t argue,” he whispers.

  “You’re bossy.”

  “It’s good that you recognize that now, sweetheart.”

  “I don’t know how I feel about you being so bossy.”

  “That’s just because you’re still half-asleep.”

  “LANDON’S HERE FOR you,” Riley says later that afternoon. “He says he’s taking you home?”

  “We rode together this morning,” I reply, and hit send on an e-mail to our payroll lady, then shut down the computer.

  “You spent the night with him?” she squeals. “And you wait until right now to say something?”

  “No, I didn’t spend the night with him. He came over this morning and made me breakfast, and drove me to work.”

  “Huh.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” Riley shakes her head and sits at her desk. “It’s just interesting, that’s all.”

  “What’s interesting?”

  “The whole situation.” Riley laughs and points at the door. “He’s waiting. Have a good night. Use protection.”

  “You’re weird,” I reply with a frown, grab my bag and jacket, and walk out of the office. Landon is waiting by the front door, looking at his phone with a frown on his handsome face. “Something wrong?”

  His head whips up and he smiles when he sees me. “Not a thing. Are you ready?”

  “Ready.” He opens the passenger door for me and I sink back in the seat of his car and take a deep breath. “I’m so ready to go home.”

  “Well, the thing is, we’re not going home.”

  “We’re not?” I glance over at him in surprise. “Where are we going?”

  “To the movies.”

  “It’s not even five in the afternoon.”

  “Matinee,” he replies, and takes my hand in his, kisses my knuckles, and drives us into the heart of downtown Portland. He finds parking and escorts me into a mall, then up about five thousand escalators to the top, where the theater is. “Popcorn for dinner?”

  “That’s healthy.”

  “You had a balanced breakfast. You’re good.”

  When we’re seated in the theater, I can’t help but wonder again if this is really happening. I’m at the movies with Landon, who has his arm around me rather than eating any popcorn. I, on the other hand, am inhaling it.

  The movie is a chick flick that I mentioned wanting to see last night while
we had dinner at his house. He pays attention, I’ll give him that. And the fact that he thought to do this is flattering, not to mention it makes my heart melt more than a little.

  I lean my head on his shoulder and sigh when I feel his lips on my temple. The movie is a good one, but a bit sad at the end. When we leave, I yawn, but I’m so damn happy.

  “Tired?” Landon asks as he drives us home.

  “A bit. Thank you for that.”

  “You’re welcome. Are you hungry? I can buy you dinner.”

  “I had a whole tub of popcorn myself,” I reply with a laugh. “I have a little work to do tonight from home.”

  Landon nods and takes me home, and when he walks me to the door, he kisses me just as passionately as he did last night. His hands are firm and warm on my arms as he pulls me closer, and his mouth devours mine, in the absolute best possible way.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” It’s said with promise in his voice.

  When I get inside and shut the door, I can’t help but do a quick, undignified happy dance, startling Scoot. “He’s into me. You don’t kiss a girl like that unless you’re into her. I haven’t dated like this in ten years.”

  Scoot’s eyes narrow, and he flicks his tail and turns his back on me.

  “Don’t judge me, you little judger.”

  SOMETHING CRASHES, WAKING me up out of a dead sleep and scaring the fuck out of me. I sit up, looking around my bedroom, but it’s pitch-black. The power’s out.

  Suddenly lightning flashes, brightening up the room, and is followed immediately by the loudest thunder I’ve ever heard. Scoot is crying and pacing the bed.

  “It’s okay, baby.” I reach out to pet him, and he hisses, but then runs into my lap and huddles against me. “I’ve got you. It’s just a storm. It’ll go away.”

  But more lightning and deafening thunder hit again, making us both jump. Rain is pelting against my window so hard it sounds like it could break the glass.

  This is one hell of a storm.

  As the rushing in my ears slows, I swear I can hear a scratching noise, which only scares me all over again. I grab my phone and call Riley.

  “This better be good,” she mumbles sleepily into the phone.