Shoulda Been a Cowboy (Rough Riders #7)(43)

“How long’s it been leaking?”


“Since I moved in.”


Cam walked over and inspected it. “Just needs to be tightened. Checked for corrosion. Your landlord oughta be able to fix it pretty fast.”


“Which would mean something if I’d ever seen the landlord. I send rent checks to a post-office box in Denver.”


“Huh.” Cam set down his beer. “I don’t suppose you have a toolbox around here?”


“I think Colt or Blake left one in the utility room.”


He left the kitchen and returned a couple minutes later with a rusty-looking toolbox.


“What are you doing?”


“Fixing it.”


“Cam. You don’t have to do this.”


“I want to. It’ll just take a minute and then we’ll go, okay?”


“Okay.”


He rummaged in the toolbox and fit the mouth of several wrenches to the base, discarding each one with a loud clank until he found the one that worked.


Cam muttered under his breath as he cranked the metal. Once the handle was off, he took a small steel bristled brush and scrubbed the inside. Domini couldn’t see exactly what Cam was doing, but it gave her an odd feeling of domesticity to see him with his sleeves rolled up. She’d never had a guy around to do manly things for her.


She sipped her beer as he reassembled the parts and wrenched it all back together.


He grinned as he tested the handle. “See? No leaks.”


“You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.” She frowned at his chest. “Now you’ve got grease on that shirt.”


Cam attempted to rub the spot away.


“No! Don’t do that. Take if off and I’ll get the stain out.”


“Domini, you don’t have to—”


“I want to.” She began unbuttoning his shirt. “After spending my life working in a restaurant, I know a thing or two about removing grease stains.”


“Or you just wanna get my shirt off,” he drawled.


“That’s a side benefit. Or it would be if you didn’t always wear a T-shirt underneath everything. Maybe you could skip it next time.” She waited while he peeled the shirt off and handed it to her. “Be right back.”


Domini treated the stain and tossed it in the washer. Cam casually leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest defensively, not looking particularly happy.


“What?”


“I ain’t exactly dressed for a night out. Not that I was Mr. GQ before but…” He sighed. “I always seem to f*ck up.”


“You haven’t screwed up anything.” She stopped in front of him and debated. If she ran her hands up his arms would he see it as a sexual advance? Or the reassuring gesture she intended?


Only one way to find out.


Domini set her palms on his biceps and perused the thick muscles to the wide curve of his shoulder. When he didn’t flinch, she kept going until she reached his neck. With her hands at the base of his jaw, she feathered her thumbs over his jawline. Every inch of him was utterly masculine. Body. Face. Stance.


Cam didn’t budge. He appeared to have quit breathing. But he watched her, very closely, with those dark, hooded eyes.


Her left thumb arced over his plump lower lip, and the dip in his full upper lip. Then both together until Cam’s damp lips parted and she could feel the heat drifting from his mouth.


She shifted her hand to trace the hollowed shadow of his cheek beneath his cheekbone. She caressed his temple with her fingertips. His eyebrow. His hairline. That tender section of skin in front of his ear.


Before Domini touched the other side of his face, she locked her gaze to his. “Trust me. Let me.”


His long, dark lashes fluttered as he closed his eyes in silent consent.


“No. Open your eyes. I want you to look at me, Cam. I want you to see it as I see it. I want you to watch me touching you.”


Maybe she was a little surprised he’d obeyed.


Using a light touch, Domini followed the scar on the left side of his face. She smoothed the jagged edges from the corner of his mouth up to the ridged section where the scar hooked sharply. Then she slowly tracked the bump where it cut back and the gouge was deeper, the scar was thicker. She mapped every inch of his warrior’s mark until it ended at the apex of his eye socket.


Before Cam could speak, or before she lost her nerve, Domini repeated the process with her mouth, scattering kisses from top to bottom and finally pressing her lips to his.


As she kissed him, she reveled in the sweetness of his surrender. Domini dropped her cheek to his chest, listening to the strong, steady beat of Cam’s heart.


After a bit, he said, “I really don’t want to go anywhere. But I imagine you’re hungry since I was damn near an hour late.”


“I have a casserole in the freezer I could pop in the oven.”


Cam tipped her chin up to look in her eyes. “You sure?”


“Yes. If you don’t mind tuna casserole.”


“I love homemade tuna casserole.”