Something About You (FBI/US Attorney #1)(74)

“We were sitting on my couch listening to the radio—it was an eighties flashback night—and ‘Bette Davis Eyes’ came on. And Cameron sighed and rested her head against the back of the couch and said, ‘I like this song.’”

Cameron cut in here. “Then you inched closer to me and turned your face to mine. And you said, ‘I like this song, too.’”

“And I knew that was the moment,” Collin said. “So I leaned over and kissed her.”

Cameron took her hand off Jack’s thigh and removed the steak knife that mysteriously had made its way into his grip. He threw her an innocent look. Like he would ever harm one precious hair on Collin’s head . . . with witnesses around.

Nearing the climax of his story—for his sake, hopefully only in the literary sense—Collin continued. “The kiss went on for a bit, and I’m telling myself, ‘Okay, maybe this is actually working.’ So I pull back to see if she’s into it, and she gazes up at me with sort of an amused expression and says . . .” He gestured to Cameron.

“‘I’ve licked stamps who were more excited than you by that kiss.’”

Jack burst out laughing.

Collin shook his head with a grin. “I know, right? Jack, I’m telling you—I was crushed. But only for a moment, because then she reached up and held my face between her hands and said, ‘Collin—we’re friends, right?’ And I knew, even after only a few weeks, that this was a person who was going to be a very important part of my life. So I nodded yes, and she says, ‘Good. Then listen to me: you need to get over yourself and just admit you’re g*y.’”

Collin looked at Cameron. “Hearing it said so matter-of-factly like that was liberating. So the next day, I decided to go to a very different type of after-hours party, on the other side of campus. And I kissed a guy for the first time.”

“Patrick,” Cameron said.

“You remember.”

“Of course I remember.”

Collin smiled. “And when I got home that night, she was the first person I called to tell about it.”

Cameron covered his hand with hers. “You’re right. You do tell that story better than me.”

“I like it,” said a voice from behind them. “I’ve never heard it before.”

Jack instinctively rested his hand on the harness under his suit as the three of them watched a blond, athletically built man in a well-cut suit approach their table.

Collin, who appeared shocked, was the first to speak. “Richard.”

Jack relaxed, recognizing the name. The ex-boyfriend who’d refused to come to the wedding.

“What are you doing here?” Collin asked him.

Richard’s face momentarily filled with emotion at the sight of Collin, then he collected himself and checked out the reception. “So this is Michigan. Not bad.”

There was an awkward pause as Collin remained silent. Richard shifted nervously.

Jack whispered in Cameron’s ear. “Why don’t we go dance?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” she said.

They said quick hellos to Richard before heading over to the dance floor to give them some space. Cameron glanced over her shoulder, and Jack’s eyes followed hers and saw that Richard had taken the seat next to Collin and appeared to be doing most of the talking. Collin was at least listening, however, and at one point he rested his hand on the back of Richard’s chair. Cameron smiled at the sight and turned back to Jack.

He led her toward the far corner of the dance floor, where he could be alone with her while keeping his eye on everyone else. Taking her hand in his, Jack pulled Cameron into his arms. He held her close with his other hand on her bare lower back as they began to dance. They fit perfectly together; in her high-heeled shoes, the top of her head came right to his chin.

“Thank you for this. For everything. I wouldn’t have had this night if it wasn’t for you,” she said.

“I’m just sorry we couldn’t be here under different circumstances.”

“If there were different circumstances, you wouldn’t be here at all.” She shifted closer to him. “I’m glad you were the one who walked into my hotel room that night, Jack.”

He smiled. “What a change—two weeks ago you hated pretty much everything about me walking into that room.”

“That conversation would go a lot differently if we had it now. For starters . . . I don’t think there’d be much actual conversation,” she said in a throaty voice.

Jack’s eyes bored into hers. “I’m at the edge, Cameron. Tread cautiously.”

She shook her head, no. “I think it’s time for us to leave this wedding.”

“If we go now, there’s no coming back. You’re mine all night.”

Her eyes flashed. “Promise?”

That was it.

Jack grabbed her hand and pulled her off the dance floor, toward the main entrance of the tent. He stopped before Agent Rawlings, who had been posted there all evening.

“We’re heading back to the room,” Jack said. “You and O’Donnell should keep watch over the Tower lobby—both the elevators and the emergency stairwell.” He led Cameron out of the tent. The white runner went one direction, but he took her across the lawn toward the Tower. And their room.