Close to You - Kristen Proby Page 0,8
of her office and joins us. My eyes immediately zero in on her feet—not in sneakers this time—and the mile-high gray boots she’s wearing. My eyes travel up her body, taking in her stylish black-and-gray outfit, and sexy-as-hell body, and when I reach her eyes, her head is tilted, and she’s gazing at me with a mixture of humor and reservation.
This is what interests me.
“Landon hates looking at houses.”
“I’ve mostly been looking at apartments,” I reply, still holding Cami’s gaze with my own. “But I have appointments to see three houses this afternoon.”
“Good luck with that,” Cami says, and turns to leave, but I catch her wrist before she can walk away.
“Come with me.”
“Excuse me?” She glances down at my hand and I pull it away, immediately missing the contact.
“Come look with me.”
“I’m at work.”
“I told her to leave two hours ago,” Addie says helpfully.
“I’ve been busy,” she replies with a frown. “The damn tills from yesterday were off.”
“By a lot?” Addie asks.
“No, it was probably a mistake.” Cami sighs and shakes her head. “I guess I could use a break.”
“Perfect,” I reply with a grin. “Looking alone is torture, Cam. If I have to look at another bathroom, I’m going to . . . Well, I don’t know what I’ll do, but it won’t be pretty.”
She blinks at me, then finally shakes her head, mumbles something under her breath that I can’t quite hear, then chuckles. “Well, we can’t have you not being pretty.”
“Great. Let’s go.” I gesture for her to lead me out the door, but she rolls her eyes.
“I need my jacket and handbag. I’ll meet you outside.”
“You might want to change your shoes too. We’ll be walking a lot.”
Both Cami and Addie laugh. “These are my walking shoes,” she replies as she walks back into the office, then returns less than thirty seconds later with her bag, jacket, and shiny lips.
Great. Now I can’t stop staring at her lips. I’m pretty sure women do that on purpose.
“Call me if you need me,” Cami says to Addie, who just waves as we walk out of the restaurant and to my car. I open the door for her, then walk around and lower myself into the seat and pull out my phone.
“I have the appointments, with the addresses, in my calendar,” I say as I pull the information up and hand the phone to Cami. “You be the navigator. Where are we going?”
She rattles off the address, then sits back silently as I drive to the first house. Cami and I have never had an uncomfortable silence in the twenty years I’ve known her, and I refuse to start now.
“How’s business?”
“Great.”
“How are you?”
“Can’t complain.”
She smooths her hand down her skirt and shifts in the seat, but doesn’t elaborate.
“I like your nail polish,” I say, nodding at the pink on her fingers, and for the first time, that dimple in her cheek winks as she smiles, just a little bit.
“Thank you.” She points just ahead. “That’s it.”
“Got it.” I pull up to the curb, and before I can tell her to wait, Cami shoves out of the car and walks up the sidewalk to the front door, where a Realtor is already waiting.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Palazzo.”
“I’m Cami LaRue, a friend of Mr. Palazzo’s,” Cami says immediately. The women lead me into the home.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Lacey. This is a 1956 Craftsman-style home,” she begins, and leads us through the small house that probably hasn’t been updated since the eighties.
“It’s too small,” Cami says when we’re back in the car and pulling away. “And the pink master bathroom is so not you.”
“We agree on that,” I reply with a nod. “I don’t need a huge place. It’s just me.”
“I know, but you don’t need a broom closet either,” she replies as she searches for the next address. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll snoop through your phone, look for pictures and messages from the many girls you date?”
“Yes, I’m horrified,” I reply, my voice dry. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t date much, and second, you’re not the snooping type. But if you do want to snoop, go for it. I don’t have any secrets from you, Cami.”
“I was being a smartass, Landon,” she says, then gives me the address. “I don’t know where this one is.”
“I think it’s in a newer subdivision. Can you pull it up on the map app?”
“Newer is better. Hopefully there won’t be a pink bathroom.” She wrinkles her adorable nose and directs me