Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“You hungry?”
Jo opened and snapped her mouth closed. Yeah, he’d changed the subject. It felt too intimate, just the two of them. He needed to get Jo fed and to bed and out in the morning before he did something he’d regret. Jo looked between the painting and Cam one more time.
“Starving.”
“The suite actually has a kitchen, but would room service be okay tonight?”
“Of course, the quicker the better.”
Her words evoked an image of him pounding into Jo against the wall quicker and better and dirty with her go-on-forever legs wrapped around his back. He shot that image down and rolled her suitcase through the discreetly lit dining room toward the bedroom where she’d sleep. He allowed himself a quick head-to-toe before returning to Jo’s eyes, watching him watching her.
“Assuming you want to change.” He opened the door and pushed the luggage in. “Food shouldn’t take long. They have a great bison burger.”
“Sounds good. Hold the—”
“Onions.”
“Yeah, and extra—”
“Pickles.”
“And for cheese, I’d like—”
“Gouda, if they have it.”
“I’m that predictable, huh?” Jo laughed, walking in and turning her back to Cam, pulling her mass of wavy hair over one shoulder.
“Could you help me with this zipper? I’ve been wearing this dress and these shoes so long I think they may have to be surgically removed.”
Cam swallowed, his mouth dry. He smelled her. Something floral and clean—half perfume, half just Jo. He grasped the zipper and slid it down to the base of her spine. A flash of black silk and lace banding her back and edging the curve of her ass left him as hard as diamonds behind his zipper. The skin of her back stretched fading-tan-gold and silky in front of him. He took a quick step back and turned, tossing a few words over his shoulder.
“There you go. Food should be here soon.”
Cam thanked the heavens above there was no lace or silk in sight when Jo emerged from the bedroom, freshly showered. That chocolaty fall of hair was wet and bundled on top of her head. She’d taken out her contacts and wore her cat-eye tortoiseshell glasses, yoga pants, and a Walsh Foundation T-shirt.
“You look pretty much exactly like you did in college.”
Jo grimaced and took a bite of her bison burger, catching mayonnaise with one finger and sliding it in and out of her mouth.
Holy sexy condiments.
“Hmmm. College. It’s a blur of exams and tears. What possessed me to go Ivy League, I’ll never know.”
“I was glad when you transferred to Duke and came back home.”
“I loved the thought of Wellesley, but in the end, I didn’t want to be away from Daddy, the foundation, Aunt Kris.”
Jo trapped his eyes over the rim of her glass.
“And you.”
Cam cleared his throat and took a sip of his Peroni, leaving that comment and that look in the open, unaddressed.
“Remember that time in Cabo when we ordered all that room service on Mr. Bennett’s card?” The memory persuaded Cam’s mouth to smile.
Jo laughed around a bite of her burger.
“The man has a Black Card. He didn’t even notice.”
“And that was what Walsh wanted more than anything.” Cam stood and crossed over to the fridge for another Peroni. “For his dad to notice.”
“So…you and Walsh.”
Cam turned, pressing his back to the refrigerator and watching her with wary eyes.
“What about us?”
“I know things have been hard, but Walsh says you guys have been talking. How’s it been?”
Cam shrugged, grabbed a high-backed dining room chair, and flipped and straddled it. He crossed his arms on the back, resting his chin on his forearm.
“As well as can be expected, I guess.”
Jo pulled her long legs under her on the leather couch, crossing her arms over a throw pillow on her stomach. “Can I ask you something?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“If you don’t want to talk about it, then, yes, you have a choice.”
Cam wanted to avoid the potential that kept crackling in the air between them, but talking with Jo was like drawing a fresh breath after living in the stale room of phonies and opportunists who had been populating his life the last six months. He could always count on the truth from her, if from no one else.
“Do you still have feelings for Kerris?”
Wow, she went for the jugular.
“You know, I—”
“Don’t hedge.”
“I’m not going to. I’m just thinking of how to answer.”
“Try the truth.”
“Okay.” Cam contemplated the label circling his beer bottle. “I think over the last year or so, I’ve drawn some of the same conclusions Kerris did.”
“Meaning?”
“After the divorce, she said we never should have married.”
“To which you said, ‘Thank you, Captain Obvious.’”
They shared a grin. In their two-member club, sarcasm was like the secret handshake.
“No, at the time I just thought she wanted to make herself feel better for her part in our breakup. Now I realize she was probably right.”