She filled the glasses with ice and water from the refrigerator, then passed him one. Her hand shook, the ice rattling, and he took it from her, his fingers sliding over hers.
“Thanks.” He set the glass on the counter behind him, didn’t even bother to drink it, and took her hand in both of his, his thumbs slowly stroking her skin. “I’m making you nervous.”
Chloe nodded, drained half her glass before setti
ng it on the counter beside his. “I—I don’t know what to say to you.”
The pained expression on his face matched the pain in her heart. “I hate that you feel this way.” He paused, squeezing her hand. “I’d say I’m sorry again but I think we’re past that. And it feels…trite.”
She remained silent, savoring the sensation of his rough hands touching her, his calloused fingers sliding over hers.
“You need to know that I wasn’t faking it,” he said, his voice quiet, calm. Soothing her frazzled nerves. “Spending time with you changed me, Chloe.”
Nodding, she pressed her lips together, could feel her chin trembling. She refused to lose it in front of him.
“I’m going back to work,” he continued. He entwined her fingers with his and held her hand. “I leave tomorrow.”
Dread sunk her heart to her toes. He was leaving. She knew he would but so soon? Did this have to do with what happened between them? “Where are you going?”
“New York. I start a new assignment next week.”
“It’s—it’s not overseas, is it?” The idea of him going back to Afghanistan—or somewhere even more dangerous—nearly sent her reeling. What if he never came back?
What if she lost him forever?
He shook his head. “I’m never going there again. Though the assignment is war-related, a piece for a national magazine. I’m traveling with a reporter and we’ll be visiting veterans all over the country. The article will focus on the impact of war on these soldiers, most of them young, in their early twenties. I’ll photograph them, candid shots and portraits, capture snippets of their life. That sort of thing.”
Relief made her smile. “I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”
He returned the smile, his fingers tightening around hers. “I hope so. I’m excited.”
She believed him. Since he’d come home, he rarely talked about photography, his job, any of it. It had once been his passion and it seemed to have died when he had his accident. Maybe even before that, he’d lost the joy.
How she hoped he’d gain some of that back.
“I’m happy for you.” And she was. Even if it meant losing him…not that she ever really had him anyway. “Your new assignment sounds great. Very healing.”
“Yeah.” He tugged on her hand, bringing her a little closer.
Making her heart beat a little faster.
“Healing for you,” she added.
“I guess so.” His expression became thoughtful and he gave her a lopsided smile.
She smiled in return, didn’t say anything. Didn’t think anything more needed to be said. Decided to bask in his presence instead. Sometimes, words got in the way, especially between them.
Cam slowly shook his head, his smile growing. “I swear, you know me better than anyone else. Sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself.”
“I spent a lot of years observing you,” she said wryly.
“And I spent a lot of years ignoring you.”
Her smile faded. “Cam…”
“It’s true. I have a lot of time to make up for.” He gently pulled her in and she went without hesitation. Until she stood so close to him, she could feel his body heat, his denim-covered thigh brushing between her bare legs. “I’ve wasted a lot of years searching when you were right here all along.”
She swallowed hard, tried to get past the lump in her throat, but it was so hard. What he said gave her so much hope. Too much. “How long will you be gone?”