"I'm glad you approve," he said, flashing a crooked grin. "But it's not over yet."
In fact, she thought an hour later, the Oasis had barely been an appetizer. After they returned to downtown, he took her to one of the high-rise condo buildings, and they rode up, up, up until finally entering a small studio with a view of the river. "It'll be gorgeous tomorrow," he said, "but even at night it's pretty with the lights."
She nodded agreement as she explored the place, noticing the soft classical music and the wine glasses already out on the bar by the kitchen area.
The bedroom was an area set off by bookcases, and she saw the bedspread was pulled back and rose petals decorated the sheets.
"I'll bite," she said. "What's going on. Is this your place?"
"Ours," he said. "Just for the weekend."
"Don't you work this weekend? And how is it ours?"
"It's my sister's. Well, hers and Noah's. This was his place before they got married, and he kept it. They have a house in LA, too. And so long as we clear out before they get here on Wednesday, we have the run of the place."
"But--"
"And you're right. I have to work. But I thought it would be nice to share a place--to just share everyday life--for a couple of days. But if you think it's a stupid idea or if it makes you uncomfortable--"
"I like it," she interrupted, rushing to reassure him. And she really did. "Yes," she said, holding out her hands to him. "I want to play house with you, Cameron Reed."
The relief on his face was so obvious that she was overcome with the urge to kiss him. And since there was no reason not to, that's exactly what she did. Then she put her arms around him and held him close, feeling happy and spoiled and loved.
"I have a bottle of wine chilling," he said. "Do you want some?"
She nodded, then took a seat in front of the window while he brought over the glasses and the white wine. They watched the lights of the neighborhoods beyond the river, and talked about their plans for the weekend. He told her how to get into the condo and asked what she'd do while he was at work.
She almost said she was going to pick up stray men and bring them to the condo, but even though it was so obviously a joke, she couldn't conjure the words. She didn't want even a joking thought about another man coming between them.
He was, she realized, all she wanted. And the thought was less scary than it should have been. After all, she'd never expected to feel so serious about a guy. Not yet anyway. Not until she was older and more established in her career.
But what they had felt right. Good. She just wasn't sure if she could trust the way it felt. Or even if she should let him into her heart since she'd be off to Los Angeles as soon as she had enough experience under her belt.
Then again, it was too late for that. He was in her heart. Her heart and her head and her thoughts. And no matter what came next, she didn't want that to change. She didn't know if she was in love with him, and she wasn't quite ready to think about that. But she did know that she wanted him. That being with him felt right.
And that, she supposed, was plenty to be going on with.
"Hey, you got quiet," he said. "Penny for your thoughts?"
"They're worth at least a quarter," she countered.
"Deal."
"I was thinking about you," she admitted, then stood up and held out her hand to him. "And I was thinking about the bed and the rose petals. And," she added, as she tugged him that direction, "I was thinking that I really want you to make love to me now."
And of course, since Cam was a gentleman, he did exactly what she asked.
* * *
By late Sunday--technically Monday--Cam knew that he owed his sister big time. He'd never felt more at ease than he had sharing the studio with Mina. They walked on the trail by the river in the mornings, then came back to the condo for breakfast and made love in the shower. She spent a few hours each day at The Fix helping Brooke and Spencer, but they still had plenty of time for a quick dinner before he went in for his shift.
And since they were both used to crazy bar hours, they made love again in the wee hours after he came home from work. Then they lazed together in bed and caught each other up on their days, him telling her all about his new managerial position--which was harder work than bartending, but worth it--and her telling him about articles she'd read, places she'd visited, and all the little things she was doing as she enjoyed her free time between school and her new job that was starting soon.
That intimacy was what he was most looking forward to now as he rode the elevator up after his shift. And he called out her name as he stepped inside.
Usually, she greeted him with a sparkling water, but today she only waved from where she sat at the kitchen table with her phone to her ear and a cup of coffee in front of her.
"Thanks," she was saying. "I really am excited. It couldn't be a better opportunity." She nodded. "Yeah, really soon. I don't know--oh, that's terrific. I can't believe you forgot to tell me that right off the bat. An actual producing credit?"