“Come here.”
I cross to the bed and reach out when I can see his silhouette against the windows, careful not to fall into him. He takes my hand and pulls me down into his lap.
“When we have sex, it won’t be because either of us has to.” His lips are just barely touching my cheek as he speaks. “It’ll be because we’re both ready and can’t keep our damn hands off of each other. Making love to you will never be a chore.”
“I should hope not.”
“And as for tonight, I’ll happily stay if it makes you feel better.”
“It does.”
“Do you want me on the couch?”
“No. I want you to lie in my bed with me and hold me.” I’m breathing easier now. “Please.”
He groans as he lifts me, and with me in his arms, he toes out of his shoes and lies down in my bed, gently lowering me beside him.
“You’re strong.”
“You’re sweet,” he says as he pulls me against him. I lay my head on his chest and wrap my arm around his waist and sigh deeply. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”
“Don’t go away.” I’ve relaxed against him, feeling safe and calm once again.
“I’m here.”
Scoot climbs onto Landon’s belly and lies against my arm, purring, and before long I feel myself drifting back into sleep.
Chapter 6
~Landon~
“Hello?”
“Where are the screws?” Cami asks in my ear as I lay my drill down and frown at the room in general.
“What screws?”
“The ones at the home supply store.”
I grin and fold my arms. “You’re at Home Depot?”
“Yes, and I can’t find the damn screws.” Her voice is thick with exasperation and I can’t help but wish I was there to witness this. It’s been more than a week since the power went out and I spent the night with her in my arms, and I’ve barely seen her since then because of both of our work schedules. I’m determined to spend the weekend with her.
“Do you see the signs at the ends of the aisles? Nails and screws should be listed somewhere.”
She grumbles in my ear as I motion for my foreman. I put her on mute.
“I’m gonna run an errand, but I’ll be in back in less than an hour.”
“Sounds good, boss.”
“Cami? I’m coming down there.”
“You don’t need to come here, Landon, I just don’t know where anything is.”
“You’re not far away. I’ll see you in a few.”
I hang up and hurry out to my work truck. The truth is, I miss seeing her beautiful face. I’ve talked to her on the phone a few times, and there have been plenty of texts, but I need to see her.
I pull into the parking lot, finding a slot close to the door, and jog inside. I find her in the nail and screw aisle, her nephew Steven standing next to her, fuming.
“I’m telling you, Cami, those screws are too small. The shelf won’t hold.”
“Don’t yell at me!”
Steven looks up and sees me. “She called both of us.”
I reach out and shake his hand, then turn to Cami. “How’s it going, Bob Vila?”
“I want these screws.” She’s frowning, her lips twisted in frustration. “But Mr. Know-It-All says they won’t work.”
“What are you building?”
“I’m redoing my pantry.”
I nod. “Why did you call both of us?”
“Because it’s always better to get more than one opinion,” she says reasonably. “And he didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear.”
“Oh my God, Cami, I’m out.” Steven pulls at his hair and looks up at me. “She’s all yours.”
“I love you,” she tells him sweetly.
“Yeah, I love you too, and it’s a good thing because otherwise I wouldn’t put up with your shit.” He grins and leaves as she blows him a kiss.
“Steven grew up,” I say, surprised.
“He’s in college now,” she says with a nod, still staring at the screws. “He’s working at the restaurant a few days a week.”
“Awesome. Still living at home?”
“No, he’s living with his girlfriend. Amanda and Brock moved to Seattle about a year ago for a job opportunity, and Steven wanted to stay here. I offered him my guest room, but I think he likes having a little freedom. He checks in with me.”
“Okay, tell me more about your pantry.”
“Okay. So, I want to redo the shelving and paint it. It currently has wire shelves, and whoever put them in there should be hung by them.” She scoffs, making me grin. “I can’t put granola bars on them. Or little packets of taco seasoning. They fall right through!”
“So you want wood shelves.”
“Yes.” She nods. “So what screws do I buy?”
I survey the packages of screws on the wall and pull a few down. “These.”
“Okay. Now I need shelves.”
“Let’s go.” I take her to the organization aisle and we pick out the shelves she wants, along with brackets and bins.
“Now, since you’re here . . .” She bats her big green eyes at me.
“Yes?”
“I need paint and a door.”
“A door?”
“I really want to replace the plain one with one of those pretty ones with the glass in them that says ‘pantry.’”
She bites her lip and looks up at me, and in this moment, I’d give her just about anything she asked for.