Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 60(@200wpm)___ 48(@250wpm)___ 40(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 60(@200wpm)___ 48(@250wpm)___ 40(@300wpm)
The woman’s shocked face was priceless. I reached again for Cam’s hand and pulled him away before turning to wink at him.
“You actually enjoy that, don’t you?” he asked after we’d gotten out of earshot from the woman.
“So, so much,” I admitted. “You should have heard the stories my mama would tell whenever kids made fun of me for it in school. She’d describe sharks on family vacations and out of control farm equipment on field trips. I think the only two kids in school who knew the boring truth were my sister and my best friend. I’ve gotten more laughs out of it than you can imagine.”
Cam spotted an empty bench under a shade tree and pulled me toward it so we could sit and enjoy our drinks.
“My favorite part of being on the Mall is the people watching,” he said before taking a sip of his soda. “What about you?”
I watched his Adam’s apple bob while he swallowed. The dappled sunlight filtered through the trees to lay warm honeyed patches along his skin.
“I’m down with watching the people,” I said softly, continuing to stare at him.
He looked over at me out of the corner of his eye. “You’re different in person than on television. I know that seems obvious but…”
“I get that a lot. You’d rather me call you out on your bullshit? ‘Cameron Pierce, is it true you prefer Sprite over Coca-Cola? Answer the question, sir!’”
I’d put on my serious face and leaned in to make my point. Cam’s eyebrows raised into his hairline before he snorted. “Wow. No wonder the people on your show always look like they’re about to puke. If only they knew you were a softie beneath that agro surface.”
“Who said I was a softie?”
Cam pursed his lips. “I saw you with that dog. You baby-talked it.”
I grasped at my chest and sucked in a breath. “You take that back. I would never be nice to animals in public. It would ruin my reputation as a cad and a rake.”
We sat in companionable silence with our shoulders together as we continued to drink and watch the people around us. Before I stood up to throw away my bottle, Cam reached for my hand.
“Are you… I don’t want to assume, but are you single?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off.
“I’m sorry, it’s just… I overheard several people the night of the raffle mention that they were entering to win dates even though they were married or in a relationship. I’m not really into sharing. I mean, it’s fine if you are, but I just wanted to know before…”
I leaned in and reached my free hand up to cup the side of his neck. “I’m very single, and horribly inexperienced, actually. I was too busy to date for a long time because of my job. It wasn’t until I was nominated for an Emmy that I finally felt like I could take a breath. But it’s still been hard dating without feeling like everything I say and do is going to wind up on a blog somewhere. Honestly, my friends had to force me to throw my ticket into the raffle because I had such cold feet about it.”
Cam looked surprised, and tried to pull his hand away. “But you don’t seem to have any problem with PDA and we’re in the busiest area of the district.”
I held onto his hand gently. “That’s because you’re cute as shit, and I want to touch you. What’s the worst that could happen? Someone snaps a picture of me kissing a hot guy? How does that hurt me? Might hurt you. Prove you’ve lowered your standards and gone to the dark side.”
His teeth came out to worry his lower lip. “That… that wasn’t a racial thing was it? Because I’ve dated plenty of other guys who aren’t white.”
I shot him a look. “Is that right? Why am I feeling unreasonably jealous right now? Just how many guys have you dated?”
His skin flushed deep pink again. “No. That’s not what I meant. I just didn’t want you to think that I had any issue with… never mind. I’m sorry. I just know it can be tricky sometimes, and… I’m going to stop talking now.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. He was a combination of flustered and indignant. “Cam. I have to assume that if the abnormally small number of feet I have wasn’t a problem for you, my skin tone wouldn’t be either. Those kind of prejudices tend to run in tandem.”
Cam glanced down at the prosthesis. “I have several clients with an abnormally small number of appendages. It’s great you still have your knee, but I guess you know that already. Does your prosthetic fit well? Is it comfortable?”
I took a moment to enjoy how easy he was talking about it, but he must have misinterpreted my hesitation as something else.