St. Nacho's 4: The Book of Daniel (27 page)

That just never got old.

I went into the paddock with him, and kicked the ball away. He fairly flew after it—tail like a flag—and nudged it back, trying to dodge around me.

When I saw dust rise in the distance, I tried not to get my hopes up. I really tried, because most of the time anyone coming up my driveway was lost. I continued playing with Fireball, but I was aware at the same time that a truck that looked a lot like Cam’s was heading purposefully toward me.

Finally. Oh, my fucking… Cam is finally, finally here.

Since I’d moved back, all the television news broadcasts had been full of California’s wildfires. A spate of arsons—and the wild Santa Ana winds that make them particularly deadly—had caused even our own local firefighters to be rotated out for backup in the Southland as more and more men were needed to battle the blazes. I’d hoped and prayed for Cam’s safe return, and I pried every single piece of news I could from Jake and JT, but until I saw him rolling up the drive, some part of me had been afraid I’d never see Cam again.

That I’d never get a chance to tell him why I hadn’t come back sooner.

Cam’s truck pulled to a stop by the barn, and I forgot to breathe when he opened the door to get out.

He was thinner. That’s what I saw. That’s all I saw, as he walked toward me. His jeans were loose around his hips, and the SIFD T-shirt and jacket he wore didn’t bind on his pecs and his arms the way they had before. An SIFD cap shielded his eyes.

I kicked the ball to Fireball and headed toward the gate. Fireball ran off and retrieved it, pushing it after me, disappointed that I’d called a time-out on our game.

I watched Cam’s face when he caught sight of
my little pony
, and realized exactly what it was. His head whipped around again, and he looked back at me, eyes wide.

As though he were trying to make sense of things, he said, “That, sir, is a horse.”

“Be quiet, he’ll hear you.”

Cam smiled faintly. “Jake told me you were back, but—”

“I’ve been here for a while.”

“I’ve been all over hell and gone. I was in the Angeles National Forest for a week, then in South Orange County. Then the Cleveland National Forest, near Julian.”

“I know. I saw all the fires on the news. I thought you weren’t a wildlander.”

“My unit was defending structures. It was like living in hell. High winds and arson fires. Southern California’s unique cocktail for disaster. We lost one hundred twenty-four homes all told. No lives, thank God.”

“I’m…” I was at a loss. Should I have said I was sorry about the fires? Or I was glad he was safe? Instead, I simply went with, “It’s good to see you.”

Fireball decided he didn’t like being ignored. He poked his nose through the slats of the fence and nudged me.

Cam squatted to look him in the eye. “Who’s this?”

“Fireball.” I hadn’t been the one to name him, but I thought Fireball fit rather well.

“He thinks he’s a dog.”

“There’s a lot of that going around.” I hadn’t forgotten Cam’s oddball cat.

I studied every minute detail of Cam’s face. He’d been sunburned, and his nose was peeling. Did he look careworn? Surely he was drawn.
Tired
. This wasn’t the laughing, lively Cam who filled my fantasies and eluded me in my dreams. This Cam had dark circles beneath his eyes, and his cheeks looked almost gaunt.

He pulled off his cap, and I saw his hair was buzzed off short, a golden fuzz next to his skin. He looked military.

He ran a hand over the top of his head. “Do you think I could have a beer or something? It’s been a really exhausting few weeks.”

“Of course.” I gave the beach ball a last shove and made sure the gate was latched. “Follow me.”

We walked up the tree-lined path to the house, a tiny, tidy bungalow with shuttered windows and flower boxes. It was a little run down but had boatloads of charm. It had
potential.

“This isn’t the kind of place I’d have expected to find you.”

My heart quickened. Had he wanted to find me? Had he looked for me? “What kind of place did you think I’d have?”

“I don’t know. Some loft full of steel and glass and leather. Abstract art on the walls.”

“You forgot the coffee tables made of glass-topped statues of nude men.”

He grunted a laugh.

“This suits me perfectly.” When we got to the wide front porch, I gestured for him to sit in one of the rockers I’d purchased with Cam’s very own, very fine ass in mind. “Have a seat. I’ll go get us some drinks. Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“All right then. I’ll be back.”

“Thanks.” Cam put his cap in the pocket of his jacket before drawing it off and laying it over the rail. “This is nice here.”

“It gets the shade in the afternoon and a nice cool breeze.” How shameless. I’d said that like I was selling the place—which I was. And myself, if he’d have me. I was prepared to use every trick I knew to make it happen.

In the kitchen, I pulled a couple bottles of Corona from the fridge and cut up a lime. Food was more difficult, because I found my hands shaking with anticipation—part terror and part longing—and it made slopping mayonnaise and mustard on a long roll and then trying to open little plastic baggies of lunch meats with slick fingers nearly impossible. I topped his sandwich with lettuce, tomato, pickles and olives and finally, I crowned the whole ugly creation with cheese and sliced it up, placing it on a plate with chips.

It was haphazard, but it would be filling. I grabbed the food, the beer, a bottle opener, and some napkins and headed outside.

When I got back to the porch, Cam was asleep. I tried to be quiet, but he gave a start when I put the plate down.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No. I’m sorry.” He rubbed his face, which looked red and painful.

“How’d you get sunburned? On the job?’

“Not like you’d think. I fell asleep in a camp chair on a break the other day. This looks good.”

“If that’s the case, you must be starving.” He took a big bite, nearly half the half, and I worried that I should have made two sandwiches. “I can make more if you’re still hungry after that one.”

“This will be fine, thank you.” He popped a chip into his mouth. “It’s rude to invite myself over like this and make you work.”

“Nah. I’m glad to do it. I’m happy to see you.”

He glanced around. “You’re happy in general, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad.” He nodded. “It’s not St. Nacho’s.”

“No.” Jake had accused me of channeling Moses: I’d saved the tribe but was unable to live in the Promised Land. But St. Nacho’s didn’t feel like my promised land. I’d made the right choice for me. The question was, could Cam live with it? I worried about that—a lot. “I found this place, and it just called to me.”

“Look,” Cam said suddenly. “I know what you did.”

My heart tightened. “What?”

“I know it took everything you had to buy that land. I know what you did to save St. Nacho’s.”

No one was supposed to find that out. What if he accused me of using money to solve every little problem again? “It’s not like—”

“You didn’t think you could keep your part in saving the day a secret, did you?”

“That part? Yes actually, I did. But considering I couldn’t keep my part in nearly ruining everything a secret, I can’t imagine why. Apparently Jakey’s still got a big mouth.”

“It wasn’t Jake who told me. It was Ken Ashton.”

Ah, yes, St. Nacho’s very own real estate mogul. He could easily have gotten wind of what happened. “I see.”

“And I made sure everyone else knows. You’re a local hero. Or you will be if you ever show your face in town again. The way he tells it, you were really hard up against it for a while. No one could find you. Jake was frantic. He said you’d live under a bridge somewhere rather than ask for help.”

“Fortunately, it didn’t come to that.”

“How’d you get back on your feet?”

“Believe it or not, it was Bree.”

“No way.”

“
Way
. Of course, she kept the money. She hasn’t changed that much. But she returned ownership in Livingston Properties to me and she’s helped in other ways. Bree is—remarkably—a good friend. She and Jim have a baby on the way.”

“No kidding? I thought she didn’t—”

“Apparently she’s over some of her objections to intimacy. She’s been taking really good care of herself. Forcing herself to eat well and gain weight. It’s hasn’t been easy. She’s working with a therapist.”

“A baby.” He sat back and rocked for a bit. “It could have been yours. How does that make you feel?”

“Delighted for her.” I really meant that. “Delighted for both of them.”

“And you?”

“I am living the dream. I work from home mostly, but I travel up to Santa Cruz a couple times a week. Things are looking up.”

“Who takes care of Fireball when you go?”

“There’s a high-school kid who lives about a mile up the road. She comes over to do chores if I need her to. She loves the little guy, and it gets her some cash for school later.”

“That’s good.”

“But she’ll be graduating next year so I was thinking about looking for a part-time ranch hand.”
Oh, fuck, if I blew this now—if he turned me down flat—I would never recover
. “Now that I’ve got a spread and all.

“Just part-time?”

“To start, maybe.” I took a sip of my beer. “Of course, I’ve been reading about ranching. I was thinking about getting another miniature or two. Maybe some chickens. Even a cow.”

“You?” His brows drew together. “A cow?”

“But I’d need a qualified helper if I did that.”

“You would indeed.” Cam’s eyes met mine. “
City boy
.”

“Not so city I can’t muck out stalls or take care of my herd.” Okay Fireball wasn’t much of a herd, but I’d taken care of him just fine.

“You wouldn’t know the first thing to do with a cow.”

“Maybe not. But I’ve got time. I can learn. Or I could start with something smaller, like a goat.”

Cam made a face. “Goats can be filthy, evil-tempered animals.”

Wow. Note to self: ask Cam about his bad goat experience
. “Or a sheep or two. I know. I could get myself a llama.”

“A llama?” Cam sputtered. “You don’t have the faintest idea of what you’re getting into. You can’t just buy farm animals willy-nilly and hope you have the right kind of environment and resources and—”

“It’s pretty clear someone with some ranching experience is going to have to straighten me out, huh?”

The spark missing from Cam’s blue eyes when he’d first arrived appeared like magic. “Are we talking hobby or business, ’cause let me tell you right now, you are not going to make this a viable business.”

“I intend for this to be my
home
. I want to share it with some animals. And…uh…a partner. I still have my original business to run.”

Thank you, Bree. Thank you, thank you.

Cam went very still. “You’re going to have to say the words, Daniel.”

I was ready.

In fact, as soon as I started, everything I’d been thinking came spilling out like so much word puke. “I
love
you, Cam. I’ve loved you for a long time. Please don’t think of this place—what I hope will be our place—as yet another way I’m throwing money around to solve a problem. It’s not in St. Nacho’s, but you live at the firehouse half the time anyway, and you could even keep your place there if you want. I’d take whatever you can give me.

“You have to see this place like I do—as something we can build together. It’s the perfect setting for everything I want us to become. Can you believe me when I say that? Can you see us together here? Can you forgive me and make a place for me in that great big heart of yours, so I can finally, finally slow down and maybe even get some rest? Because I really,
really
don’t want to be without you one more single stinking—”

“
Daniel
.” Cam stopped my mouth in the very best way possible. He pressed his lips to mine in a searing kiss that was both tender and ruthless, claiming and yielding. I barely breathed as I opened my mouth to let his tongue slide inside, and with that he swept the rest of my second thoughts, my doubts, and my fears away. He broke the kiss after what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few brief seconds and exhaled a shuddering sigh.

“I love you too.” Cam stood and held out his hand.

I looked at it for a long time before I took it. When I did, I knew I’d never have to let it go again. I was going to put a damned ring on it and hold on to it forever.

He pulled me to him and I guess I surprised him by jumping up and wrapping both my arms and legs around him. He let out a shocked
oof
. He was more than strong enough to hold my weight, but the surprise of it rocked him back on his heels a little.

“Come on.” He lurched awkwardly toward the front door and opened the screen to let us in. “You’ll have to tell me which way.”

“Turn right,” I told him, directing him toward the master bedroom “At the end, last door on the right.”

“You’ve lost weight,” he remarked.

I had my face pressed into the side of his neck where I could breathe in the scent of his skin—sweat and man and a faint trace of fire.
Essence of Cam
. “You too.”

“I’ve been working for nearly four weeks solid. I’m tapped out.” He opened the door to my bedroom, and I held my breath while he glanced around. “This is nice.”

“Thank you.” There wasn’t much to it yet, just an old iron bed and a dresser. A wonderful, colorful quilt that Ellie made for me. The mattress was new and the sheets crisp, and when he dropped me on it and crawled in beside me, he heaved a huge, tired sigh.

“I should probably take a shower.”

I toyed with the hem of his T-shirt. “You could just get rid of these clothes and sleep for a while. Take your shower later.”

“Would you stay?” Those blue eyes studied me.

“Of course. If that’s what you want. I could use a nap.” I pulled his T-shirt up and when his head popped out, he shot me a weary smile.

“I’m not going to be good for much else,” he warned.

“That’s all right. Rest now.”

We shucked our clothes, and before I could even get up to close the shutters to darken the room, he drifted off. When I got back into bed with him he settled, inching toward my body heat in the implacable way of sleeping men.