Justice Falling (Falling #3)(28)

It surprised me that this woman, Hank’s receptionist, had such control; a control she didn’t know she had. When I wasn’t with her, I thought about her. Today was one of those days where I sorted it out by just showing up at her work. My Camille had quick feet that preferred running to standing still in my presence. Today though, she proved just how taken she was with me. I ate up every second.

I remembered her lowered gaze, that pink little tongue licking her lips, her gasps, and, during our kiss, the little sound she made at the back of her throat. It was a combination of a moan and a growl. I’d go to great lengths to hear that sound again and again. I planned on doing just that this weekend. Sunday.

Bollocks. Why a Sunday? It didn’t make sense, but I’d do whatever it took to spend the day with her. I sat down in the high back chair facing the city and dialed her number.

After four rings I thought for sure I’d be leaving a message but a small, little voice answered. “Hello?”

I pulled the phone away from my hand and checked the display. No, it said ‘Precious Camille’ in bright white font on the screen.

“Hello, who is this?” I asked softly.

“Tanner,” a soft whisper answered.

“Tanner, my name is Nate.”

“Hiya, Nate! You talk funny.” The little voice giggled in a way that could only be conveyed by a child’s innocence.

“You think so? How old are you?”

“Four,” was practically screamed into my ear, piercing my close to thirty-year-old eardrum painfully.

“Wow, that’s a big boy. Can you tell me Tanner…is there an adult there?”

“Yep,” was all I got. Nice and direct. I liked this kid.

“And what are their names, sport?”

“Mommy and Auntie.”

Ah, now I get it. This must be her roommate’s child. Funny, she never brought up the fact that her roommate had a son. We had so much to learn about each other. I looked forward to digging into every facet that was my sweet innocent girl.

“Tan Man, who are you calling?” I could hear the lovely lilting voice of my Camille in the background.

“I didn’t call. I swear. He called me!” His little voice sounded downright indignant. I chucked in response.

After a rustling noise a winded Camille spoke. “Who is this?”

“Good evening, Precious.”

The phone went completely silent. I had to check that it was still connected. Then I heard what sounded like movement a door opening and closing loudly.

“Um, Hi Nate,” Camille finally said.

“Is this a bad time?”

“No, not exactly.”

I carried on without bother. “I just spoke to a lovely little boy. How is it that you didn’t mention your roommate had a child?”

I heard Camille take a deep breath. “Uh…well, it’s complicated, Nate.” Camille’s life just kept getting more interesting, opening up like peeling layer after layer from an onion.

“How can a child be complicated?”

“It just is. Anyway, how was your day?” She changed the subject. Camille was an expert at that, but I didn’t mind. I just wanted to talk to her. Let her voice carry over the length of my day, releasing the tension. If I was a prissy chap, I’d consider a long soak in the tub whilst I spoke with the beautiful woman. But I wasn’t, and I wouldn’t. I preferred to gaze at the busy streets of New York, and sip my whiskey.

“Not as good as my morning,” I said, innuendo heavy between the words.

She giggled. My Camille let out a laugh and a giggle, and it was heavenly. Everything about her entertained and enthralled me. “Mine too,” she said softly.

“I’m counting the days until I get to do it again.”

“Kiss me?” she asked.

“Yes. And more…” I let the rest of what I was thinking sink in.

“You scare me, Nate.” Her voice trembled, and I didn’t care for it. The last thing I wanted was for her to be afraid of me.

“Because I think you’re a beautiful woman? One whom I enjoy kissing and want to kiss other parts of her?”

“Yes, all of those things. I’m not very experienced,” she admitted on a sigh.

What did that mean? “Experienced?” “Explain that to me. Not experienced sexually or with men?”

“Both, either. I mean…”

“Doesn’t matter, love.” I cut her off. I would not stand for her thinking down about herself. “I’ll pick you up Sunday, we’ll have a lovely brunch, and take it from there. Sound good?”

Before she could answer, a loud banging noise rang through the phone. “Mommy. Auntie!” I heard.

“Uh yeah. Perfect. I have to go.” She hung up before I could say good day.

Even with the abruptness of her ringing off, I smiled wider than I think I ever had before. I shot back the remainder of my drink. The whiskey burned a fiery trail down my throat to settle warmly in my gut. In less than a week I’d see my sweet Camille again.

Before she rang off, I could have sworn I heard two different little voices calling her. Was that possible? I shook my head. That would mean there were two children living with her and one of them called her “Mommy.” Camille didn’t have children. She was far too young and that was something I’d have found out immediately from her or my private investigator.