Page 59 of Rocky Mountain Cowboy Christmas
“Thank you, Jodi,” Camille said when Jodi’s sentence hung unfinished for a beat too long.
With the condolences over, Jodi gave Camille and Steve’s joined hands a lightning-quick glance. “I bet you’re here for Maya. She’s such a sweet girl. It’s so good that she has a mother figure around now, rather than just a ranch full of men.”
Camille was squeezing SOS in Morse code when the lights dimmed and brightened again for the five-minute warning. “Better find our seats I bet the kids are waiting for us thank you again Jodi we’ll talk later bye!” She basically sprinted away, with Steve close behind her. She could hear him chuckling softly, but she didn’t care. She was taking full advantage of the opportunity to escape the inquisition.
“This way.” Steve took the lead again, weaving among people with enough speed and dexterity that no one had a chance to engage them in conversation. Camille approved.
“Camille!”
“Nooo,” she groaned under her breath, making Steve laugh again. Mrs. Lin—the older version—was waving at her from the opposite aisle. Camille waved back, grateful for the seats blocking Mrs. Lin from getting close enough to talk, and took the seats that the kids had picked out. They were on the aisle so that Zoe could sit next to Wyatt, and Camille appreciated the location for the quick getaway it offered. She wouldn’t have to shuffle past half a row of seats in order to escape.
Nate and Ryan were already there, sitting next to Will and Micah.
“Hey,” Ryan greeted, his smile growing stiff as his gaze fell on Camille and Steve’s joined hands.
“Hi.” She gave them a little wave and then settled into her seat between Steve and Micah, who sat hunched forward, gripping his program a little too tightly. Leaning toward him, she murmured, “How much do you want to run out of here right now?”
He sent her a sideways look before refocusing on his crumpled program. “A lot.”
“I thought about sitting out in the truck for the whole thing, but I figured I’d get pretty cold out there for an hour.”
He snorted and tilted the program so she could see the list of performances…thelonglist. “Two.”
“Two…hours?” Why couldn’t she be in the shop, alone, working on Steve’s Christmas present right now?
“Yep. Sometimes longer.” He looked slightly less hunched, and one corner of his mouth had turned up. Camille was glad that her misery had made him feel a little better. “I’ve been to lots of these.”
“Do they at least have cookies at intermission?”
“What intermission?”
Turning to Steve, she said very quietly, “If this goes for more than two hours straight, it’s just cruel that they don’t have people going up and down the aisles selling alcohol to the adults.” The lights began to dim, and she settled into her seat, leaving him muffling his amused snort with his free hand. By the time he’d cleared his throat and settled again, it was full dark, and the curtain opened to show a group of children arranged on risers. They were too small to be Maya’s age, so Camille quickly lost interest as they started singing about Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.
“Here,” Steve whispered, sliding something into her hand.
When she realized it was a flask, she couldn’t stop herself from lifting up to kiss him on the cheek. It might’ve been the promise of alcohol, or the fact that she’d almost made Micah smile, or just sitting in the midst of all the Springfields, feeling like a true part of their family, but the next two hours weren’t looming as horribly as they’d been before.
“You,” she whispered, unscrewing the lid, “are a wonderful, wonderful man.”
There was just enough light to see his broad, pleased smile.
* * *
It was close to ten before they filed into the house, and Maya was weaving with exhaustion.
“Bed,” Steve said, eyeing his kids’ tired faces. “Tomorrow’s a school day.”
Will let out a little huff. “Barely. It’s the last day before vacation, so no one’s going to be doing anything.”
“I have two tests,” Zoe grumbled, not much more awake than Maya. “Why does Will have it so easy? He’s older than me. Isn’t school supposed to get harder?”
“It does. Will, you have that algebra test and two papers due,” Steve scolded lightly. “So bed, now. Good night. Maya, you did a great job tonight.”
Maya gave him a sleepy smile as the rest of them called their good nights, and they headed upstairs without any more complaining. That, Steve knew, was a true testament to how tired they really were. When Camille started to follow them, he caught her hand, and she turned toward him in surprise.
“Hang on a minute,” he said quietly, and she gave him an agreeable smile and relaxed against him. Closing his eyes, he fought the temptation he’d been struggling with all evening. Camille, he’d discovered, became sweetly affectionate after just a couple sips of whiskey. During the concert, she’d leaned in to him, whispering occasional comments into his ear, and afterward she’d tucked her hand into his arm when they’d walked out to the parking lot. It hadn’t been anything extreme, nothing for the other Borne residents to exclaim over, but it had battered his defenses against her.
Living with Camille for the past week had already tested his self-control, and now, with her sleepy, relaxed body pressed against him, her back against his front, he felt his weakened willpower eroding even more. He opened his eyes. The darkness just made him concentrate more on the feel of her curves and how good she always smelled, like burnt sugar and vanilla.
