Semi-Sweet On You (Hot Cakes #4) - Erin Nicholas Page 0,77
to retrieve her blouse and slipped it on, buttoning only the two buttons between her breasts just to keep it closed until she could get upstairs.
She faced him again. “Also,” she said as she ran a hand through her hair, knowing it was mussed from Cam’s fingers, and really wishing his fingers were there again, “If you don’t want to have sex with me, then no more kissing.”
Cam winced slightly. “I did that to shut—stop you from talking.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“You wouldn’t stop, and raising my voice might have woken Didi up and putting my hand over your mouth seemed unnecessarily aggressive.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yelling and hands over mouths are definitely aggressive.”
“It was just an impulsive reaction.”
She nodded and took a deep breath. Okay, so he hadn’t been planning to kiss her. That was maybe good.
“So why your sudden change of heart on us dating?” Whitney asked.
“Because I saw your face on the video call the other morning.”
She frowned. “What does that mean?”
“You’re nervous about the project.”
Her heart thumped hard in her chest and she took a moment to answer. He’d seen that in her face? Via video call?
She wet her lips. “I didn’t hide that very well, huh?”
“But I don’t think you’re just worried about impressing us. You need to impress yourself.”
She just nodded. There was no sense in arguing with him about that, considering he had read her expression correctly.
“I’ve never had a big project like this.”
He nodded. “And it’s important to you.”
“Yes.”
“So I’d say that means you need a friend more than you need a date.”
She studied his face. Wow, that was sweet. Insightful. Nice. Finally she nodded. “You’re right.”
“And we’ve never been friends,” he said. “We were nemeses because of our families. And classmates. Then boyfriend-girlfriend. Then…”
“Exes,” she said with a shrug. She’d never considered him an enemy exactly, but they hadn’t stayed friends after their breakup, either. And no, they hadn’t really been friends before they’d started sneaking around.
“Yeah. Exes. So maybe we should try the friend thing. Hot Cakes needs you and I have a vested interest in things going well there. And you need help with Didi to make that project happen.”
She nodded. Her throat was tight. This was nice. Almost a relief. Having someone realize that she was nervous without her having to confess it was nice. Having someone say, “let me help” was nice. Having it be someone who was making her grandmother happy was nice.
“Okay. Friends.”
“And you have to stop putting work between us,” he said. “We’re on the same team. That’s going to take us some getting used to, I know. But it’s true. You’re not doing all of this yourself. You’re doing the stuff that the rest of us can’t do. For now, the ball is in your court. When you’ve got your part done, then the rest of us will take our pieces and do our stuff.”
That also sounded really nice. A team. She hadn’t had that before.
“Okay,” she agreed.
“And if you don’t want Didi with my family then, say it. But don’t make this about boss-employee-work bullshit.”
She lifted a brow. “Okay. I don’t want Didi with your family.” She wasn’t sure she really meant that. But she was curious about his reaction to her saying it.
He gave her a nod. Then said, “Too bad.”
“What?”
“Didi will be going to my mom’s with me for dinner whenever you work late.”
Whitney’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Is that just a ploy to get me to not work late or—?” She glanced at the cake. “Do you bake but not cook?”
He shrugged. “You can take it however you want.”
That wasn’t a no. Did Cam want her here for dinner some nights? And if so, why? The friend thing?
“But it’s silly to cook when my mom is already doing it and wants us there,” he added. “And Henry wants to see Didi again. And everyone loves hearing her stories, especially the ones about my grandma.”
Whitney felt her heart flip again, but it was a softer feeling this time. “She might be in a mood one night and tell them bad stories, you know.”
He smiled. “Maybe. But Letty told us plenty of bad stories about Didi. It’s probably only fair that we hear a few from the other point of view.”
“Your grandma told you bad stories about my grandma?”
“Of course. They were archenemies, remember?”
No one in Appleby could forget.
“It’s actually even more likely that you’ll hear the same stories over and over,” Whitney said. “She probably won’t remember what she’s already told