Spitfire in Love (Chasing Red 3)

He wasn’t the only one not ready to let go.

“My beautiful spitfire monkey.”

My heart thudded against my chest when I heard him say my.

He grippe

d the backs of my thighs as he stood up, groaning a little. How did he even do that? He was so strong.

When he entered the maze carrying me, I realized what he had to walk through. I told him I’d walk, but his grip just tightened.

“You weigh the same as a feather,” he murmured in my ear. “I’d carry you anywhere, Kara.”

I smiled into his shoulder, savoring his words. He said he’d never been good with them. He was wrong. He might not say a lot, but when he lowered his walls and showed me a glimpse of his heart, his words dug deep.

He was quiet as he walked us to his cabin. I assumed he knew a shortcut in the maze because it didn’t take long at all until he was walking us up to his porch steps and the light flicked on.

I heard a series of short beeps as he put in his code to open the door, and then a longer beep before the click of the lock released.

It was dark inside. It smelled clean and new and woodsy. Good scents. Masculine scents. My eyes adjusted to the dark, and I had an impression of high ceilings, open space, and generous glass windows.

He toed off his shoes at the entrance. He didn’t bother turning the lights on but walked straight until he was gently laying me on the bed. But he didn’t join me.

“I need something to drink,” he said. “You want something?”

He was pulling away. I could feel it. Wrapping himself in his misery. We’d just talked about being open to each other, but I knew it would take time for him to get used to doing that. He was feeling vulnerable and the right thing to do was to give him space now, let him be for a while.

I sat on the bed, watching him move around his place. He turned on a soft, dim light before kneeling in front of a fireplace. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but I had a view of his back and arm muscles shifting. The musky, sweet scent of wood floated in the air as the fire started crackling.

He rubbed his hands together, wiping them on his jeans. Then, slowly, he uncoiled his body and rose.

“It should warm up soon,” he said without looking at me.

I followed him with my eyes as he walked to the small kitchen. The light from the fridge slashed a bright rectangle on the hardwood floor as he pulled it open.

He reached inside, then twisted the cap off a bottle of water and drank, his throat muscles working. He grabbed another one and approached me, opening it and offering it to me. I took a sip and handed it back to him. He capped it and placed it on the floor.

Kneeling beside the bed, he carefully took off my shoes. I wanted to slide my fingers into his dark curls, pull him to me, but I resisted. He set my shoes beside the water bottle.

He let out a sigh and rose gracefully. He reached for the collar of his T-shirt and pulled it up and over his head. He dropped it on the floor, looking weary. I felt the mattress sag as he sat on the edge of the bed. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees, then pulled off his socks.

My heart ached for him. He looked so alone, so lonely. I had a feeling he’d been harboring all these toxic emotions inside himself, and although he’d told me he had people in his life—probably Rick and Caleb—how much did he share with them? I could be wrong, but I had a feeling not much. He seemed so closed off.

“Cam,” I said. “Don’t go there by yourself. Let me in.”

I crawled in his lap again. He was warm now and his masculine scent—the cool, blue scent—was stronger. I inhaled. “I’m here now.”

His arms wrapped around me. No hesitation this time. Just acceptance. Like he’d been expecting it and I was welcomed.

It gets easier every time.

“Kara,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. “I don’t think I can let you go.”

I swallowed my heart back down. “Then don’t.”

“Stay here with me,” he whispered, his voice filled with need. “Just like this. Just right here. Just tonight.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Let’s lie down.”