Open Your Heart (Kings Grove #4) - Delancey Stewart Page 0,25
said. “Not that I’ve got any art, exactly, but I was pretty good at finance. And now I’m going to be a glorified event planner.”
“At the inn, huh?”
I nodded.
“Working on my sister’s wedding then?” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.
“Yeah, actually.”
He seemed to consider this for a moment, then fixed me with a serious look. “Harper?”
“Yeah?”
“If you screw that up, I’ll kill you.” He looked like he was only halfway kidding.
“Noted,” I said. “But I’m not planning to screw it up, don’t worry.”
“Good.”
“Good,” I confirmed, answering his half-teasing tone with one of my own and nodding my head once to drive the point home. Cam was smiling, and it made my chest warm to sit here across from him, bantering a little bit in the dark with the warm fire at our feet. It made me feel a little bit less lost, less lonely.
Silence swept in again, and I sat feeling like I’d better get up soon and head back inside, because a big part of me wanted to just sit here as long as Cam would let me, soaking up his company. I was about to stand to go back inside when an eerie howl rose through the silence, sending a shiver through me and pressing me back toward the comforting fire as my eyes scanned the darkness around us. It was the same sound I’d heard that morning. “What the hell was that?”
Cam looked alert, his back straighter, his eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure. I heard something like that earlier, too.”
The sound came again, and ended in a mournful lower note that almost made it sound like whatever animal was making the noise was in pain.
“Wolves?” I asked, my breath a sharp whisper over the crackling fire. I pictured a pack coming to circle us, their glowing yellow eyes signaling our impending doom.
“No wolves up here,” he said.
“Coyotes? Was that the mountain lion?” I was trying to think of what other mountain animals might want to eat us.
“That wasn’t a cat.”
We waited for the sound to come again, but the night had returned to relative silence, the sound of owls and crickets resuming their quiet melodies in the trees around us. “I’ll walk you home,” he said after a few more minutes, and I couldn’t help be touched by his awareness that the odds of me standing and going alone to that big open deck facing the forest on my own were very slim. “Make sure you get inside safely.”
“Thanks,” I said, rising, grateful for his comforting presence through the few dark feet to my door.
We walked together through the flickering light to the steps at the front of the deck, and Cam took my elbow in the darkness—a gentlemanly gesture certainly intended to make sure I didn’t trip on the way up. He was probably thinking about liability—California is a very litigious state after all. But all I could think about was how comforting it was to have him close, to have his warm strong hand on my arm, to feel his stoic solidity at my side. When we arrived at the door, I was sad to feel that strong touch drop away, and had to push away fleeting thoughts about what it would be like to have Cam touch me in other places, to have that strong warmth even nearer.
I met his eyes after I fumbled to get the front door unlatched, light from the windows casting a glow on his face. He was an enigma, I decided. He was alternately cold and even a little bit frightening, and then suddenly caring and warm. But even when he was warm, Cam was still quiet and distant, and I figured losing someone so close to him might have a lot to do with that. I realized, as we stood in the open door, light from the living room pouring out the door around us, that maybe I wasn’t the only one on this property who spent long nights feeling lonely and a little bit abandoned.
But I couldn’t let myself get involved. Entanglement was not what I needed. I needed to work for six months and get myself down to Austin to start over.
“Good night, Harper,” Cam said, his voice soft, like a distant storm rolling in.
“Thanks for walking me home. And for letting me sit at your fire, Cam,” I said, holding the doorframe to keep my hands from reaching for him, which they seemed to want very much to do.