Page 21 of Best Laid Plans
Her dad looked at her, and Elle could tell from the disappointment etched across his face that he didn’t like what he was hearing. But still, calm and gentle as always, he placated her. “He’s always been helpful. And as the chef of a restaurant, I’d say he’s in a unique position to run the booth this weekend. Honestly, I’m grateful that he stepped up and asked if he could help.”
“Ican help.” Her voice was embarrassingly shrill, and she regretted begging for attention immediately.
He picked up his plate and stood. Looking at her lovingly, he walked around the table and planted a kiss on top of her head. “You are helping, honey. It’s been great having company the last few days.”
Elle stood up too, then, and followed her dad to the kitchen with her own plate in-hand. “Give me that.” She grabbed her dad’s plate, with the tiny grapefruit spoon set atop it, and began washing the dishes.
Sheshouldbe grateful to Cam. There was a part of her brain that understood that, intellectually. He was helping her parents, and disrupting his own life in the process. Even though he was being suspicious as hell about why he was randomly back in town. And no, she didn’t believe that it was to celebrate his big reality tv win or visit her parents.
The wheels started turning in her brain. Wyatt also didn’t know what Cam was doing here, or he would have told her that Cam was coming. Light assault and battery wasn’t something her brother would have let knowingly happen on his watch. And Wyatt definitely wouldn’t have encouraged Cam to show up at his apartment when Elle was a half-step away from being fully feral.
So that left her with… running from something.
Elle wrinkled her nose. Which wassonot what she was going through. She’d been cast out of her old life, in every conceivable way.
“If you wash that plate any harder, I think we’re going to be able to see through it soon.” Her dad’s voice jarred her, and the scrubbing brush dropped in the sink, soapy water splashing back onto her.
“Just trying to do a good job,” Elle lied. She blew a strand of hair out of her face and stepped away from the sink. “So, what’s Cam’s big plan for the festival?” She couldn’t hope that he wasjust a body behind a stand because that wouldn’t help her parents as much as it could. But she also didn’t know if she could stomach His Royal Highness swooping in and saving the day… again.
She could still remember how Cam’s arms had felt encircling her smaller frame, when she’d felt the world disappearing around her. When he’d been the one holding her together, solid and patient and god… he’d smelled so fucking good.
Thank god her dad’s words broke her out of her unwanted reverie. “I’m not sure. He’s been in the kitchen yesterday and today working on a few dishes.” Pride oozed from her dad’s voice. She knew it well because that’s how he used to sound talking about her.
Something shifted inside of her then, pieces of resolve slotting into place. Cam Devers wasn’t the only person that could help this family. And he definitely wasn’t the only person who could make things happen.
And as those two thoughts collided, Elle realized something. It was idiotically obvious, but it hit her like a ton of bricks. She gave her dad a quick kiss on the cheek and was out of the house seconds later.
If she wanted her old life back–and if she wanted to be the person that her parents leaned on in the meantime–then she was the only one who was going to make it happen.
Cam was exactly where her father had told Elle that he’d be–in the kitchen of the restaurant. She should have realized it sooner, the answer now apparent as to where Cam would hide in plain sight, especially if he wanted to avoid Elle. Or to cook, but both things could absolutely be true.
She’d worked at the restaurant briefly during high school, when Cam had already been gone, but the kitchen had neverbeen her domain. For her father’s love of cooking, it wasn’t something that had rubbed off on her. Which meant that if she was ever considering a place to find solace, this wouldn’t be it.
The lights were off in the dining area, but she easily spotted him through the opening between the counter and the kitchen, where food was set when an order was up. He wasn’t exactly easy to hide, over six-feet-tall and with shoulders broad enough to obscure whatever was in front of him on the burner. His back was to her, head tilted down with focus. Pots and pans were set atop various burners, the prep station covered with dozens of different accoutrements.
It’s like he’d trucked the whole damn ocean in here, she noted when she slipped through the double doors and into the kitchen itself.
On the enormous prep table that ran through the middle of the room, she could see lobster, clams, seared scallops, shrimp, crab, and a type of fish that she couldn’t identify on sight. At first glance, it looked like a giant mess to her, but she could tell that it made sense to Cam, the way different herbs and vegetables were corralled next to one another, smaller dishes circled around the seafood.
She realized, then, that it was a visual representation of the ingredients included in whatever dish he wanted to make with each type of seafood, the vision taking shape in front of her.
Quietly, she walked over to the prep table to inspect the items more closely. “Guess you’re too good for a lobster roll,” she commented, and she watched as Cam’s back straightened but he didn’t immediately turn around.
His black t-shirt was drawn tight across his shoulders. Elle knew those shoulders, had held onto them to find purchase like a sailor in a storm. She also knew that where the shirt was taut in the middle, she could press her fingers into the soft fabric at least a few inches, and her hands would have pressed against the long cords of muscle that ran down his back.
“I was working on a few options for the chowder fest.” His voice was low and slow and he spoke like he had all the time in the world.
Heat flared through her body, but she tamped it down. Because even if Cam Devers was hot enough to want to throw her dignity away, he was also becoming a pain in her ass, the other night notwithstanding.
It had been easier to ignore the effect that he had on her when he’d been facing away from her–which she realized too late as she heard the click of a burner being turned off. He turned around, then, a pan in his hand. His forearms flexed with the weight of it, and the traitorous vision of those arms pinning her against, well… anything… hit her so fast that she took a step back.
She’d never considered herself the especially submissive type, but the idea of Cam holding her down with those arms, bracketing her body under his, made her fuckingachewith the idea of it.
And then, he looked at her with those impossibly green eyes, clearly confused about why she was here.
She gritted her teeth and pressed her thighs together, letting his confusion douse the flames licking through her.
This could not keep happening. She refused to let her desire be a slave to a man who barely knew she existed. And clearly didn’t spend as much time thinking about her as she did about him.
