Wait for You (Wait for You 1)

"Are you sure your parents are okay with this?"

Cam nodded. I'd only asked the question around a hundred times.

I started nibbling on my thumb. "And you did actually call them and ask, right?"

He slid me a sideway look. "No."

My jaw hit me lap. "Cam!"

Tipping his head back, he laughed deeply. "I'm kidding. Chill out, Avery. I told them the day after you said you'd go. They know you're coming and they're excited to meet you."

Glaring at him, I went back to chewing on my nail. "That wasn't funny."

He laughed again. "Yes, it was."

"Jerk."

"Nerd."

I stared out the passenger window. "Bitch-ass."

"Oh." Cam whistled. "Them be fighting words. Keep it up and I'll turn this truck around."

I grinned as we hit I70. "Sounds like a good idea."

"You'd be distraught and in tears." There was a pause. He reached over, pulling my hand away from my mouth. "Stop doing that."

"Sorry." I glanced at him. "It's a bad habit."

"It is." He threaded his fingers through mine, and my heart skipped a beat. Our joined hands rested on my thigh, and I wasn't sure what to think about that. "My sister won't be home until early tomorrow morning. She's doing a show in Pittsburg tonight."

"What kind of show?" My gaze flicked from our hands to the window and back again.

"I think it's a ballet recital."

My attention was focused partly on the weight of his hand in mine. "Is ballet her favorite?"

"I think it's a mix between that and contemporary."

Contemporary used a lot of ballet and it would make sense that she'd like a mixture of those. Cam eventually let go of my hand, which was a good thing because I was sure my palm was starting to sweat and that was just gross. The two hour drive went by way too fast. It seemed like minutes had passed by the time he got off the interstate and entered a small, hilly town that seemed to have been built into the side of the mountain.

And boy were we smack dab in the middle of mountaineer country. From every store front hung a WVU flag, as did the porches of the small homes. We continued through the town and out onto country roads that looked like they'd just been paved recently.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd been this nervous. My stomach roiled as he slowed and hooked a right, onto what seemed like a private road crowded with tall oak trees. My mouth was completely dry as he rounded a bend and a large, stately manor came into view.

It wasn't so much that it was a huge house. The thing was big-colonial style, white pillars in the front, and three stories, but it reminded me so much of my parents' home. Cold and perfect on the outside and mostly likely the same on the inside.

Cam followed the driveway behind the house and I got a closer view of the manicured lawn and beautiful, rustic landscaping. I swallowed, but my throat wasn't really working. He pulled in next to a detached garage that was probably the size of a small ranch style home. Beyond the garage, I could see a covered, in-ground pool.

He turned the engine off and faced me, a slight small on his face. "You ready?"

I wanted to scream no and then take off, running straight for the nearby woods, but that seemed like a bit of an overreaction. So I nodded and opened the door, stepping out into temps that were at least ten degrees cooler than what we'd been in. I reached for my bag, but Cam tugged it out along with his much smaller one.

"I can carry it."

Cam grinned as glanced at the bag he'd slung over his shoulder. "I'll carry it. Besides I think the pink and blue flower print looks amazing on me."

In spite of my nerves, I laughed. "It's very flattering on you."

"Thought so." He waited for me to join him on the other side and then we started up a slate pathway that led up to a covered patio at the back of the house. He stopped just outside the glass door, beside a wicker chaise lounge. "You look like you're about to have a heart attack."

I winced. "That bad?"

"Close." He stepped closer to me and his hand moved so fast. Tucking my hair back behind my ear, he lowered his head slightly. A look crossed his face, deepening the hue of his eyes until they were the darkest shade of blue. My stomach fluttered in response. "You have no reason to be nervous, okay? I promise."

My cheek tingled where his fingers grazed and as close as we were I thought about our kiss that wasn't a kiss. He hadn't done anything like that since the night of our first date, but right now, I think he wanted to. "Okay," I whispered.

He stared at me a moment longer and then shook his head. Dropping his hand, he turned to the door and opened it. A wave of warm air that smell of apple and spice spilled out, an alluring, welcoming scent. I followed him inside, eyes wide as I took the room on the lower floor in.

It was a game room of sorts. A large pool table in the middle, a stocked bar to the right and in the back, near the stairs, was a large TV with several comfy looking chairs in front of it. My parents had something like this, but the pool table had never been used, Mom only drank from the bar when she thought no one was paying attention, and the TV in our basement had never been turned on.

But everything looked… lived in down here.

The balls weren't racked up in the middle, but spread across the table like someone had stopped in the middle of a game. A bottle of scotch sat on the bar top, beside a glass and the chairs were worn, obviously older furniture that had been moved from downstairs . Unlike my parents who had to have new stuff in every room in the house.

"This is the man cave," Cam said as he headed for the stairs. "Dad spends a lot of time down here. There's the poker table he kicked my ass on."

I looked over to the left and there was just an average card table sitting there. A small smile pulled at my lips. "I like it down here."

"So do I," he replied. "Mom and Dad are probably upstairs…"

Nodding, I pulled myself away from the center of the room and trailed behind him. We ended up in a living room, that like the basement, had a well lived in feel. A huge sectional couch took up most of the room, placed directly in front of another large TV. Magazines were scattered across the coffee table and potted plants instead of weird statues and paintings filled almost every corner.

"Living room," Cam commented, going through an archway. "And this is the second living room or some room that no one sits in. Maybe it's a sitting room? Who knows? And this is the formal dining room that we never use but have-"

"We do to use the dining room!" came a woman's voice. "Maybe once or twice a year, when we have company."

"And break the 'good dishes' out," Cam commented dryly.

My legs stopped working at the sound of Cam's mother's voice. I hovered at the end of the table, heart in my throat as his mother came through the door.

Cam's mom was as tall and striking as he was, with raven-colored hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Her eyes were brown and free of make up. Tiny crows feet appeared at the corners as a wide smile broke out across her face as she spotted her son. She wore a pair of jeans and a baggy sweater.

She rushed across the room, enveloping him in a hug. "I don't even know where the 'good dishes' are, Cameron."

He laughed. "Wherever they are, they're probably hiding from the paper plates."

Laughing softly, she pulled back. "Good to have you home. Your father is starting to get on my nerves with all his going hunting talk." Her gaze fell over his shoulders and she smiled welcomingly. "And this must be Avery?"

"Oh, God, no," Cam said. "This is Candy, Mom."

His mother's eyes widened and a bit of color infused her cheeks. "Uh, I'm…"

"I'm Avery," I said, shooting Cam a look. "You had it right."

She spun around, smacking Cam across the arm. Hard, too. "Cameron! Oh my God, I thought…" She smacked him again and he laughed. "You're terrible." Shaking her head, she turned back to me. "You must be a patient young lady to have survived a trip here with this idiot."

Thinking I hadn't heard her right, I blinked and then a laugh burst from me as Cam scowled. "It wasn't that bad."

"Oh." His mom glanced over her shoulder at Cam. "And she's well mannered. It's okay. I know my son is a… handful. By the way, you can call me Dani. Everyone does."

Then she hugged me.

And it was a real hug-a warm, affectionate hug. I couldn't even remember the last time my mom hugged me. Emotion crawled up my throat and I squelched it before I made a fool out of my myself.

"Thank you for letting me come up," I said, happy that my voice didn't crack.

"It's no problem. We love having the company. Come on, let's go meet the guy who thinks he's my better half." His mom dropped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed. "And dear God, I apologize ahead of time if he starts talking to you about how many eight point bucks he's planning to hunt this weekend."

As she led me toward the foyer, I glanced over to where Cam waited. Our gazes locked and that flipping motion occurred in my chest. A smile spread across his face, revealing the dimple in his left cheek.

Cam winked.

And my smile widened.

Chapter 18

Cam got those blue eyes from his father, his sense of humor… and ability to string together the most confusing rationale on this Earth, which was what probably made Richard Hamilton such a successful lawyer. Within a few short hours, he nearly had me agreeing to try deer jerky for the first time.

Almost.

If it weren't for Cam continuously whispering "Bambi" in my ear every couple of minutes, I would've caved. But I couldn't eat Bambi, no matter how succulent Mr. Hamilton made it sound.

We stayed in the spacious kitchen, at the scuffed oak table that was just the right size to seat four or five people, drinking the coffee Cam's mother had made. My sides were actually aching from laughing so hard at Cam and his father. The two of them were identical. Wavy, uncontrollable hair, bright blue eyes that sparkled with pure mischief and the rare talent for turning every word around.

"Look, Dad, seriously, you're embarrassing yourself here."

His father glanced at me, brows raised in a fashion that was so like Cam. "Do I look embarrassed, Avery?"

Pressing my lips together, I shook my head.

Cam shot me a look that said I wasn't helping. "You're sitting here trying to convince me, mom, Avery, and baby Jesus, that Big Foot must exist because apes exist?"

"Yes!" the older Hamilton shouted. "It's called evolution, son. Are they teaching you anything at college?"

Cam rolled his eyes. "No, Dad, they aren't teaching me about Big Foot at college."