“What did you just say?” Grace wasn’t sure she’d heard the woman correctly. But when she repeated it, Grace wanted to slap her.
After a few moments she finally hung up the phone and then was even more grouchy than when she’d come down the stairs, therefore poor Cam was about to get the brunt of her anger.
“Make yourself right at home,” she said with a scowl before moving to the coffeepot and pouring herself a fresh cup.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he murmured, unaffected by her ill mood.
She sat down, refusing to serve herself yet. That would excuse his behavior. Where in the world had all the groceries come from? She was really a boxed-food kind of gal—who had the time or the energy to cook whole meals? Boring . . . Baking, on the other hand, she absolutely loved to do.
“What was that phone call about? You seem upset,” he finally said.
“That was my client from hell,” she murmured.
“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” he said.
“Really?” she gasped. “She was just telling me that her grandmother just had the gall to die on her and so now her seating chart was all messed up. She’s demanded a meeting this afternoon to get it fixed.”
Cam sat there, his eyes widening as he looked at her as if trying to figure out if she was speaking the truth or not. When she said nothing more, his lips twitched and then he laughed out loud.
“Okay, then. I think you’re right. She just might be the biggest bridezilla I’ve ever heard about.”
They both continued sitting there in silence for several more moments, and Grace’s stomach rumbled. Dang it! She really wanted to eat, but weren’t they in a standoff at the moment?
“Are you going to be so stubborn that you’re not going to eat after I went shopping and then was kind enough to prepare breakfast?”
“Are you going to be so needy for compliments that you’re going to beg for them and puff up your own worth? Look, I didn’t ask you to do that. I didn’t ask you to do any of this,” she told him.
“I know. However, I like taking care of you. You’re one of the strongest women I know, Grace, and it’s been nice to catch you in a weak moment,” he said, his voice soft, although he didn’t look up from the paper.
“So you’re one of those guys that like weak, simpering little females who can’t do anything without a big, strong man around the house?”
“Not at all. I love your strength, but a truly strong person also knows when it’s time to ask for a little help, to ask when she needs a shoulder to cry on, and to ask when she’s so weak she can’t even feed herself,” he told her, finally setting the paper down and sending her an intense stare.
“I was doing just fine on my own.”
“Yes, you were, and I’m sure you would have woken up today, still weak, but able to get moving again. It was still my pleasure to be here for you.” If only he had been there for her the one time in her life she had needed him the most. But she would never say that to him. That wasn’t a can of worms she was ready to open, one she probably never would be.
“I don’t like people taking care of me.”
“I’ll make sure to not do it too often,” he said with a laugh, holding up his hands. “Do you want a little of everything?” He stood up and moved over to the oven, where he began pulling out dishes he’d placed in there to keep the food warm.
“I can get it myself.”
“Then you won’t be surprised by what I’ve made you. Enjoy your coffee and be awed by my culinary talents.” With that, he grabbed two plates and piled them high. He set hers in front of her, then went to the fridge and pulled out a bowl of fresh-cut fruit and set it out, too.
He’d made a breakfast strata, potatoes, and bacon, along with muffins and the fruit. It looked and smelled delectable, and she wasn’t such a fool that she was going to let it go to waste just because she didn’t appreciate the way he’d swooped in and saved the day.
Not able to stifle her ecstatic groan, Grace finally looked up at Cam again. “You really went to far too much trouble, but it is sort of nice.”
“There’s no way I’m getting another thank-you, is there?” he asked.
“Nope. If I gave you another one, you’d think I want or expect this sort of thing, and I don’t.”
“All righty, then. When you’re finished, we can get down to business,” he told her.
She took her time eating, because she knew what he was going to say and she didn’t want to have this fight with him again. It had been going on all year, and he was starting to wear her down. But it was all so stupid. She hadn’t opened that damned nonprofit, so she had nothing to worry about.
The innocent didn’t get accused—that would just be wrong, she assured herself.
The two of them finished in silence, and she made sure to be the first one up, gathering the plates and empty dishes and going with them to her sink.
“I’ll do those,” Cam said, stepping right up behind her, far too close. “You’re still not one hundred percent.”
“No. You’ve done enough for me. Sit down and drink your coffee and I’ll take care of the dishes. Of course, if you need to go to the office, you can go ahead and take off.”
“I don’t have a single place to be today,” he said, brushing against her back before moving away and returning to his chair. That small contact sent a delicious tingling sensation through her entire body.
She wasn’t in any hurry—with luck, he’d grow bored and leave. She knew better, though. Cam wasn’t one to give up once he had his mind set on something. When she’d finished with the few dishes they’d dirtied, she poured herself a fresh cup of coffee and returned to the table, where he had that blasted file sitting in front of him.