Norah accepted the bottle he held out. “No, definitely not. I’m surprised nobody’s spilled out. It’s a gorgeous night.”
“It’s below freezing.”
“Pssh. There’s six inches of fresh snow on the ground and sub-zero wind chills in Chicago right now. This is balmy.”
“Balmy or not, you’re going to freeze in that dress.”
As if to illustrate his point, a frigid wind stirred the trees, painting gooseflesh along her exposed skin. The warmth of Cam’s coat settled around her shoulders, draping almost all the way to her hemline. It smelled of him, of green, growing things that reminded her of the long, lazy summer days of childhood. Appealing. Like the man himself and his ridiculously charming dog.
“Thanks, but won’t you get cold now?” She looked over in time to see the flash of his smile and wished her eyes had adjusted enough to catch the wink of dimples she’d seen inside. She had a serious weakness for dimples.
“First, I have sleeves. Second, manly men don’t get cold.” He took a long pull on his beer. “But I can go back in if you’d rather be alone.”
She studied his shadowed face. “You’d really be okay with that, wouldn’t you? With rescuing me and being sent back inside.”
“You needed a chance to breathe. I don’t expect some kind of reward for recognizing that.”
How incredibly refreshing. “That kind of intuition is rare and highly under-appreciated. You’re the only person in there who recognized that I was about ready to crawl to crawl out of my skin.”
“I get the need for quiet. I don’t much like people horning in on mine, but that’s the nature of the holidays, especially in my family.”
“Well you have my thanks. And my company if you want it.”
“In that case, c’mon.” Cam grabbed her free hand and led her around the side of the house. A porch swing dangled from the limb of a massive oak tree. “We’ll be more out of the wind here.”
He sat, tugging her down beside him. One arm draped along the back of the swing. The move was such a classic, Norah’s lips twitched into a smile. But he didn’t shift to curve his arm around her shoulders or pull her closer. Instead, he leaned his head back and looked back up at the night sky. In the summer, when the tree leafed out, this would be a quiet, shady spot. For now, there was still a good view of the stars through the bare branches. The music inside was a low murmur through the glass.
Norah took the opportunity to study him from the corner of her eye. He was leaner than Mitch, though just as tall, with the blond hair characteristic of most of the Campbell clan. His was a good face, she decided. Not classically handsome like Pierce, but caught somewhere between boyish and rugged. It was a real face, and just now it was relaxed in lines of utter contentment.
“I envy you.” She didn’t realize she’d said it aloud until he looked over at her.
“Why?”
Your family. Your comfort in your life. Your direction. But she could say none of those things. “Your ability to relax. I’m terrible at it.”
“You’re still on city speed. I expect it takes practice. Lean on back.”
She tried to force herself to relax, but was too aware of the weight of his arm on the swing behind her and the heat of his leg pressed companionably against hers on the tiny seat. If she really relaxed, she’d be snuggling into him.
“There’s nothing you have to do, nothing demanding your attention. No reason why you can’t stop a while.”
Norah couldn’t stop the bitter laugh. “You have no idea how true that is.”
“Sounds like there’s a story there.”
“Not a good one.”
“That why you can’t relax?”
“Yeah.”
Cam toed the swing into motion and mome
ntum did what she couldn’t, tipping her back into the crook of his arm. She was so damned tired, and it felt so nice to lean against him, she let herself have the illusory comfort of contact. Simple and undemanding. God, when was the last time anyone just let her be?
“I’m a good listener.” The quiet statement got to her.
“I haven’t even told Miranda why I’m really here.” She didn’t mean to say it. But the dark and the closeness seemed to invite confidences as much as he did.