Page 91 of Melt for You (Slow Burn 2)
I look at him. He’s smiling back at me, smug as can be. The cat has rested his head on Cam’s shoulder and closed his eyes. I could swear he’s smiling, too.
“Told who what?”
“Told the girl who sits next to you at work about the majesty and opulence of my family jewels.”
My cheeks prickle with heat. I turn my attention back to the pan. “No.”
“Why not? It’s not as if you don’t know.”
The heat spreads to my neck. “Are you going to set the table or not?”
Cam leans in and says deliberately into my ear, “Tell her eleven inches.”
When he sees my eyes bulge, he adds with a chuckle, “Or you could tell her the truth and see if she faints.”
When I glance at him, he makes a motion with his thumb that indicates the actual number is higher.
“Moving on,” I say roughly, then stop to clear my throat. Steady, Joellen. Steady. “What do you think about Michael’s note?”
I can tell Cam’s amused by my awkward segue, but he lets it go. “Did you call him?”
“No.”
“Did you email him?”
“No.”
“Did you see him around the office?”
“No.”
“Then I think you’re gonna get a phone call tonight.”
My stomach twists with anxiety. “Really?”
“Yep. We should talk strategy.”
“Strategy? You make it sound like war.”
Cam’s smile is casual, but his eyes burn with a new intensity. “Love is war, darlin’. Only thing in life worth sheddin’ blood over.”
He turns away and heads to the cupboard for the plates while I stare down at the pan of simmering meat, wondering why that statement sounded so ominous.
In a few minutes, I’ve got the cooked meat and vegetables poured into a casserole dish and topped it with mashed potatoes. I pop it into the oven and set the timer, then pour myself a glass of wine.
When I set a beer in front of Cam, who’s now sitting at the kitchen table with the cat in his lap, he frowns. “That’s dark beer.”
“I know. I remembered that’s what you said you liked.”
When he gazes at me without commenting, I feel a little defens
ive. “It’s imported.”
Cam says nothing.
“The guy at the store told me it was good. It cost more than the meat!”
“No need to shout, lassie,” he says, his voice as soft as his smile. “I hear you loud and clear.”
