He was leaning forward in her favorite overstuffed chair, his elbows resting on his knees, his intense green gaze locked on her. His longish light brown hair curled appealingly at the nape, inviting a woman to run her fingers through it. He wore a white T-shirt and dark brown cargo shorts and he looked good enough to eat. “It’s just past ten. I brought you breakfast,” he said simply. As if that were explanation enough.
She dipped her gaze to the pink box yet again. Caught the scent of sugar and yeast and a hint of cinnamon. “Dottie’s Doughnuts?” Did he say past ten? She never slept in that late.
Cam nodded, flicked his chin toward the box. “Dig in.”
Chloe tried to lean toward the box but she winced in pain. Muttering an oath and an apology, Cam lifted the lid, revealing her favorite treats.
“How did you know?”
He shrugged. “I asked what you liked.”
“You asked Dottie?”
“She was there. I told her I was bringing you breakfast and asked if she knew whether you had any preferences, so she loaded the box with your favorites. She told me to tell you she hopes you feel better soon.” Grabbing a napkin, he pointed at the contents nestled within the bright pink box. “What do you want first?”
“A maple bar, please.” He handed her one; it was still warm when it hit the palm of her hand and she took a bite, nearly moaned in pleasure when the sweet, doughy goodness melted on her tongue.
“Good?”
His velvety deep voice made her look up, meet his gaze. His eyes were trained on her mouth as she licked at the corner of her lips, catching the bit of maple frosting that lingered there. He was making her incredibly self-conscious in his brooding, not-saying-much way. “How did you get in my house?” she asked again.
“I found your spare key.” He said it nonchalantly, like it was no big deal.
It was a small town. There weren’t many break-ins in Lone Pine Lake and besides, it was not like she had much of value in her house for anyone to steal. Her flat screen TV had been a Black Friday deal and her jewelry was mostly costume.
But it still unnerved her. That he figured out where her spare key was.
“How did you find it?”
“Mac told me.”
Oh. She took another bite, pondering that bit of information as she chewed. “So Mac knows you’re here?”
“Yeah.” Cam paused, one big hand diving into the box and snagging a giant apple fritter. The lone wolf among her favorite choices, since she’d never been a fan of them, she figured that had been Cam’s pick. “He’s rather overprotective of you, isn’t he?”
She watched as Cam ate his fritter without a care in the world. “I guess. Why would you ask?” Did he really care? Was he interested in her?
Doubtful.
“He always has been. I just wonder.” Cam’s gaze lit upon her, filled with that wicked bad boy glint she’d always found so vastly appealing. Her heart fluttered and she dropped her doughnut on the floor.
Snagging it up quickly, she frowned. Carpet and maple bars so didn’t mix. She wrapped the done-for pastry with its napkin and set it on the table. “Did he say something to you?”
Shaking his head, Cam placed his half-eaten fritter on a napkin resting on the table. “It was nothing.”
It had to be something. “Did he warn you to stay away from me?”
Cam stood, ignored her question. “Want me to make some coffee?”
“That would be great.” She paused, then spoke to his retreating back. “You didn’t answer me.”
He stood in the doorway to her tiny kitchen, his broad shoulders nearly filling the entire space. He sighed, and she saw the slight sag in those sexy shoulders, the hang of his head. “Yeah, he warned me off. Hell, I warned myself off. You don’t know me, Chloe. Not really.”
She knew him better than he thought. And she was so tired of pretending she wasn’t interested. A major car accident helped a woman realize she needed to go after what she wanted. “I want to get to know you better.”
Cam glanced over his shoulder, his razor sharp gaze landing on her. “I don’t stick.”
Chloe frowned. “What do you mean?”