“Will you do me a favor?” I ask, working to keep my hands from shaking. I’ve gone this far—I might as well push.
“Depends on what it is.”
“Will you go to lunch with me and one of my brothers?”
“Hell, no,” he laughs, sitting again. “Why would I do that?”
Sighing, I put a hand on my hip. “You know how you feel about not letting me ruin my life?”
“Yeah.”
“They feel the same way.”
“Exactly,” he breathes. “They think I’m going to ruin your life and you want me to sit there and take it?”
“It won’t be like that.”
“Yes, it will.” He shakes his head. “Besides, what am I going to do? Pretend to have something to talk about with them? Play make-believe that we have anything in common? For what, Cam?”
“Because it would mean a lot to me,” I whisper. “It would take so much pressure off my plate. If we are going to keep just fucking or whatever this is for much longer,” I gulp, “I’m going to tell them about you.”
“Even knowing what you know, even having Nolan be my uncle, you’d still tell them?”
“Yes.”
He considers this, to my surprise.
“They don’t think anything about you because they don’t know you. I’m not asking you to meet my entire family—”
“Good.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m just asking to meet . . . an emissary, of sorts,” I offer, thinking immediately of Ford. “Just meet one of them so they can tell the rest of my family I’m not fucking some serial killer or bank robber. Okay?”
“You do realize I’ve killed someone. This may not work out in your favor.”
“You didn’t kill someone,” I say softly. “You protected your family. The same thing my family is trying to do for me, just in a different way.”
A flash of understanding flickers across his face as his brother’s voice comes down the hallway. He looks at me, his big, blue eyes wide and worrisome. “This matters to you?”
“Yes. So much.”
“It’s just to make things easier on the home front?”
“Yes, Dom,” I sigh again. “I won’t take this meeting as meaning that you—”
“Fine.” He cuts me off, his chest rising fast and hard. “Fine. I’ll meet one of them to make things easier for you.”
“Thank you,” I say, not entirely sure if this is a win or a loss.
Dominic
A BAG OF GROCERIES IN each hand, I kick the door closed behind me. There’s water running in the bathroom but the apartment is quiet otherwise.
Walking into the kitchen, I grin around the keys I stuck in my mouth. Camilla’s mark is on everything. The salt and pepper are sitting on the middle of the stove, not jammed in a cabinet like I leave them. There’s a towel folded next to the sink that’s empty.
The bags hit the counter with a thud.
The scent of Cam’s perfume lingers in the air, despite the fact that she left hours ago. I’ve worked out, showered, and grabbed a list of things Nate asked me to pick up from the market since she went home early this afternoon. Still, I can feel her here. And I miss her.