Almost Just Friends (Wildstone #4)(81)

“It’s not a productive emotion.”

She felt her heart start to pound funny and sat up. “Why am I suddenly the one feeling stressed?”

“These past few weeks have been incredibly important to me,” he said, sitting up too. “You’ve become incredibly important to me.”

Yep, that was definitely stress making her heart thump in her ears. Stress, and something else. Something that curled through her in a terrifyingly good way. “Maybe it’s the orgasms.”

He smiled. “The orgasms are amazing, but it’s more than that for me.”

“More?”

He ran a finger along her jaw, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “My unit’s being sent out, Piper.”

Her heart seized. “Where? For how long?”

He kept his gaze on hers. “Until the job is done. Word is maybe a week, maybe more.”

He hadn’t said where, and she understood that he couldn’t. “When do you leave?”

“Eighteen hundred.”

“Tonight?” she squeaked.

“Yes.”

She nodded, trying to emulate his quiet calm. This was what he did, put life and limb on the line to protect and serve. And if he could do so with such courage and bravery, then she could do her best to give him the same. “And after? Your leave from the DEA might be over by then. Will you go directly back to the East Coast?”

“If I have to. But it won’t be to stay.” He paused. “After losing Rowan, I realized something. I’ve moved every year or two for the Coast Guard, but I don’t want that anymore. I want to settle down. I want”—he gestured between them—“this to be more.”

There went her heart again. “It was never meant to be more. You know that.”

“I do. What I don’t know is if you still feel that way now.”

She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. “I feel things I didn’t want to feel.”

He pulled her into him, entangled their legs. “Piper. Look at me.”

She opened her eyes and met his. “There’s a lot of things I don’t know about those feelings,” she whispered.

“Can you tell me what you do know?”

“I know I want you.”

“You’ve had me. Only a few hours ago, in fact,” he murmured on a small smile. “I’m sleeping in the wet spot. And you know what I mean.”

Did she? The kick of her heart against her ribs certainly suggested she did, that she knew exactly what he wanted to hear. He wanted more. And he wanted to know if she did too. “And if your transfer doesn’t come through?”

“Geography isn’t a hurdle. Not in my book. I can always leave the DEA and find something here. But I’m pretty sure they’ll transfer me.”

“You’ve heard from them then?” she asked.

“Not yet, but they said they intended to keep me, however they could. As for the Coast Guard, I was active duty for twelve years, and have two in the Reserve. I’ll be able to retire in two years.” He gave a small, dry smile. “Although I can’t tell if you’re more worried about my transfer not coming through, or that it will.”

Yeah, her either. She’d planned on him being nothing more than the fun-time guy to have a little thing with. That’s what her bullet journal had him down as. And that shit was in ink, which meant it was gospel. She’d never have done it if she’d known he planned on sticking around. “You’d really retire?”

He shrugged. “I’ve had my share of excitement. More than.” He paused. “So what are you afraid of?”

Only everything, not the least of which was that he could read her like a damn book. She was no longer surprised to realize that he was much deeper and more complicated than she’d ever imagined. So yeah, she was scared. Scared to go deeper, and even more scared to lose him, as at the moment, he was the only sane thing in her world. “I’m not sure afraid is the right word.”

“What is then?”

Good question. What if he decided that if she couldn’t give that mysterious “more,” would he walk away? It wouldn’t be the first time. But unlike with Ry, she was in too deep with Cam to not get hurt if he did. Freaking out a little bit, she slipped out of bed, busying herself looking for her clothes, which she’d been stupid enough—and excited enough—to strew everywhere last night in her hurry to get him naked. “I’ve got to get to work by seven, sorry.”

“Are you?”

She glanced over at him still in the bed, the sheet sunk dangerously low on his hips. His hair was tousled, his stubble delicious, and he looked like the very best thing she’d ever seen. “It’s work,” she said. “I don’t have any control over that.”

Cam slid out of the bed. “Are you going to tell me what you’re thinking, or keep me hanging while I’m gone?”

Where was her other shoe? Her bra? Dammit. She stilled, eyes closed. He was going to go on a mission. It was his job, his life, and yet . . . he was probably being shipped out to a place like where her parents had been killed.

He turned her to face him. He was holding her bra. “Playing games is unlike you, Piper. You’re one of the most direct women I’ve ever known. If you don’t want what I want, or if you’re not feeling anything, just tell me.”