Take A Chance With Me (With Me in Seattle 18)

“Must not be important?”

I force a smile. “No. Probably someone trying to sell me a car warranty.”

His eyes narrow, and he leans closer to me. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Mary Margaret.”

I narrow my eyes back at him. “It’s honestly not important. No emergencies, and it’s not the family.”

He sits back, and I take a sip of water.

I’ll be damned if I let some bimbo my former husband banged and had a kid with ruin my time with Cameron. She doesn’t matter. She’s not a part of my life.

“Do you want me to order you more shrimp?” he asks, changing the subject.

“No, I’m probably eighty percent crustacean as it is. No more for me.”

“How about dessert, then?”

“That’s another matter entirely.” I laugh as the waitress returns to take our empty plates away and leaves us with the dessert menu. “Wanna split some cheesecake?”

“You expect me to share cheesecake?”

“Okay, let’s get two desserts and share them so we each get a whole. How about that?”

“Better.” He orders us the cheesecake and some hot apple crisp with ice cream.

I’m going to weigh fifteen pounds more when I leave here than when I walked in, and I’m perfectly okay with that. I’m enjoying him, the view, and the food.

“I’m dying to know which show we’re going to see.”

“Wicked,” he replies.

“Holy shit, you got us tickets? That show’s been sold out for months.”

“I know a guy.” He shrugs and makes me laugh. “I remember you said a few years ago that it’s your favorite, but you’ve never seen it.”

“I haven’t, but the music is incredible. This is awesome, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. We might be in the nosebleed seats.”

“I don’t care,” I reply honestly. “Hell, we could be backstage, and I’d be grateful.”

He smiles, and the server brings our desserts.

“Cheesecake and Wicked. You’re spoiling me.”

“That’s the goal,” he says around a bite of apple crisp.

“I honestly didn’t think anyone could do as well as Kristin Chenoweth and Idina Menzel, but those women were amazing,” I say as Cam stops his car in front of my house. It’s past midnight, and we caught the last ferry of the day to the island after the show, which is still sending shock waves through me.

He smiles and then gets out of the car to open my door for me, offering his hand to help me out of the low-sitting car before walking me to the door.

“Did you like it? Or did you just tolerate it for me? Because I’ve been talking non-stop since we left the theater, and you haven’t said much.”

When we reach my door, Cam sighs and braces a hand on the frame, caging me in. “Who can get a word in edgewise? You’re like a kid on Christmas morning, and I’m not complaining. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“But did you enjoy yourself?” I bite my lip and let my gaze fall to his mouth. God, I want him to kiss me more than I want my next breath. All through the show, he held my hand or rested his on my leg. We’ve been in constant contact for more than six hours, and damn it, I want his mouth on me.

“I had the best night of my life.” He leans in, and I hold my breath. “And that’s not a lie. It’s the damn truth.”

He kisses my jawline, then drags his nose over my cheek before laying his soft lips over mine in that sweet way he has.

Then, he pulls away and turns to start down the steps of my porch.

My mind reels. I don’t want him to go. But then his words from the other day come back to me, and I smile.

“Are you going to come in or what?”

He pauses on the third step down, then turns back to me.

“I know it’s late,” I continue, “but you could come in for a drink or something.”

He slowly climbs those few steps and walks toward me. “Yeah, I’d like to come in.”

“Okay.” I unlock the door and let us inside, flipping on a light. “Get comfy, if you want. Since it’s so late, would you rather have wine or tea?”

“Tea,” he replies.

“Awesome. Be right back.”

I hurry into the kitchen and fill a kettle full of water, setting it on the stove to boil. Then, I rush to my bedroom and quickly change out of my jeans and boots. Are they cute? Yes. Are they also incredibly uncomfortable? Hell, yes.

“Where the hell did you go?”

I turn just as I pull on some gray sweatpants and see Cam coming around the corner and into my bedroom. At some point, he stripped out of his jacket, untucked his shirt, and rolled up the sleeves.

I have to swallow hard.

“I had to get out of those jeans.”

His blue eyes smolder, all fire and heat as they flicker down to my sweatpants. “Better?”