“When the storm passes.”
“Weather channel says we’ve got another day before the blizzard is over.”
“A day? A whole day?”
It sounded good. Like a dream come true, really. And also like heartbreak all over again.
“How do you want to say goodbye?” he asked.
“Not by eating cheese,” she said and kissed him.
16
CAMERON
Hours later, the room completely dark except for the fire crackling in the hearth, he brought the reheated cheese back to her where she lay on the couch, covered only by the blanket he’d tucked around her. She was at the edges of a puddle of warmth and light that they’d created. And—he wasn’t going to lie—that he wished would never end.
He paused in the cold darkness, looking at her. How much time did they have left? An hour. Four? Six? Was that enough.
“Come on,” she said, lifting the blanket. “You must be freezing.”
“You are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said.
“That can’t be true,” she said, and he set down the food he’d made, pushed the ottoman closer so they could reach it, then scurried under the blanket with her. Her body was hot to the touch. She shrieked and flinched away from his cold hands but he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.
“Mean! So mean!” she cried.
“The cost of the Georgian cheese boat.”
“Well, in that case…” She reached over and tore a piece off the bread boat and dipped it in the cheese. She handed it to him over her shoulder. As she reached for another one he could hear the buzzing and humming of her laptop where she’d slipped it beneath the couch.
“Were you working?” he asked.
“Just checking emails and…” He pressed the cold of his foot against her leg. “Yes. Yes. I was working.”
He shifted his leg away but pulled her closer, the swells of her naked body filling the dips in his perfectly.
“I’m going to ask you five questions—”
“No!” She laughed. “Cameron, have you ever actually gotten to the fifth question?”
“With you? No. I don’t think so. But hope springs eternal. Now, do you remember the rules?”
“Of course, Cam. I do watch your channel.”
“As a reminder, you have to answer honestly and right off the top of your head. If you take longer than five seconds to answer you have to pay a penalty.”
“That’s new. What kind of penalty?”
“The kind I decide.”
“You do love this game.”
“Hey, it’s served me well. Ready? What’s the best part of your job?”
“Solving problems,” she answered honestly.
“What’s the worst part?”
She was silent.
“One…” He rolled her onto her back so he could see her face clearly. “Two.” He lifted his hand, fingers extended and wiggling.
“Tickling?” she said. “Really? Tickling is the penalty?”
“Three.”
He dug his fingers into her side, into that spot where she’d always been ticklish. And she did not disappoint. Howling and twisting, she tried to get away. “Okay. Okay!” she screamed, and he paused and repeated the question. “Worst thing about your job?”
“The people.”
That made him pause. “You work with?”
“They’re not bad. I mean, some of them are okay. But these contestants. Fame hungry and drama hungry, they make bad choices and we make bad choices and it just turns into…something ugly.”
“Okay,” he asked quietly. “Why do you do it?”
“Because they keep giving me more money and bigger credits.”
“You never cared about money before.”
She blinked at him. “Well, I grew up.”
“You wanted to be a part of telling people’s stories. That’s what I remember. You were excited about working in film and television because you wanted that to be the medium for people’s stories.”
“That’s not a question.”
“Okay. What would you do if you could do anything?”
“Honestly, Cameron. I haven’t thought about it.”
“Why?”
“Because it would make me sad.”
“Oh, Josie,” he whispered, his heart breaking for her. “You gotta quit that job.”
“And do what?”
“Figure it out.”
“Are you telling me you’re doing exactly what you want to do?”
He shifted, rolling over her, finding his way between her legs where she was warm and welcoming. “Now I am,” he said and kissed her. He kissed her and forgot that he had one more question to ask her.
JOSIE
Her body was toasty warm but her nose was cold. Without opening her eyes she tried to lift her hand to put it over her nose to warm it up, but her arms were caught against her body.
Cameron. Cameron was behind her on the couch, his arm over hers. His body heat under the blanket was like a furnace. Memories of the night curled through her. His lips. His hands. His body. The look in his eyes when she touched him. The way he said her name when she slipped him into her mouth. The grip of his hands on her hips. The growl of his voice when he told her how good she felt. How beautiful she was.
The remembered pleasure was this beautiful echo in her body, reaching out for her soul. Her heart.