Chapter 17

 

Kenzie pulled into Camden’s parking garage, found a stall, and cut the engine. “Are you sure you want me to come up? You probably want to eat dinner or something.”

He tossed her a smile. “Good idea. Come on up and I’ll make us something to eat.”

“You cook?” She lifted an eyebrow at him.

“I’m no Chef Ramsay, but I can make a decent meal.” He got out of her car and slung his duffle bag over his shoulder.

She had to admit, a home-cooked meal sounded great. She popped the trunk and got out. “Alright, if you’re sure I’m not a bother.”

“Of course not.” He lifted his suitcase from the trunk. “The company will be nice.”

They entered the elevator and Camden slid a key into a slot under the buttons. The elevator began to rise and Kenzie leaned against the wall. “Feels good to stretch my legs.”

Camden’s gaze flickered down. Gah. She hadn’t meant to call attention to her legs. Now she felt self-conscious. He smiled, but didn’t say anything.

When the doors opened, Kenzie’s mouth fell open. They stepped off the elevator into his living room, if you could call it that. The space was open, with windows overlooking the city along the far wall. A fireplace sat in the middle of the room, with access on both sides. A long couch sat opposite the fireplace, a waterfall feature behind it. Everything looked modern and expensive. She cocked her head at him. “You’d think a billionaire could afford a little nicer place.”

He chuckled and motioned to the couch. “Have a seat. I’m going to put these in the bedroom.” He headed to a room off to the left. Instead of sitting on the couch, she walked the room and examined the art hanging on the walls. Camden had good taste. The painting above the fireplace was of a lush, green forest. The paint was thick and the impressionistic style was moving. She looked at the signature. Anthony Shephard.

When he came back, she pointed at the painting. “I love this.”

“Thanks. I fell in love with it when I saw it. The artist painted it with his fingers.”

“Ah, I wondered if that was the case. It’s beautifully done.”

A grey cat darted into the room, then froze and stared at her. “Aw, come here Thor.” She crouched down and held out her hand. The cat sat down and licked his paw.

“Thor. How rude.” Camden’s eyes held a smile.

“That’s a cat for you.”

“Do you want something to drink? I have Coke, juice, and water.”

Her memory flashed back to when she was nervous he’d put something in the water, and she laughed. “I’ll have some water.”

“What’s funny about water?”

“Nothing.” He shot her a weird look, so she changed the subject. “Can I see your kitchen?”

“Sure.” He led her into the other room, which was almost as massive as the living room. The island held barstool seating on one side, a sink and a stovetop on the other. The slate grey cabinets looked amazing with the modern-style silver pull handles. The fridge looked like a cabinet until he opened it and pulled out a water bottle. He set it on the counter near where she stood. “Does stir fry sound good?”

“Actually, that sounds great.” She picked up the water and twisted off the cap as she walked around the island. “I’ll help cook.”

He pulled some fresh green beans out and set them on the counter. He continued with other ingredients, and Kenzie started snapping off the ends of the beans. “How long have you lived here?”

“Two years.”

“It’s beautiful.” She wasn’t into money, but his apartment was clean and there was something about it that she couldn’t put her finger on. She felt at home, which was odd because she had never been there before.

“Thanks.” He pulled out a cutting board and a knife and began slicing vegetables.

“Do you have any hobbies?” She was curious what he did with his free time.

“Does working count?” He shot her a cheesy grin.

“No. If all you do is work and come home to your cat, you’re pathetic.”

His mouth opened in mock offense. “I’m so not pathetic. I’m actually involved in a model aeronautics club.” He froze. “Okay, maybe that in itself makes me pathetic.”

She laughed and touched his arm, trying to lend support, but when the touch sent her heart into overdrive, she pulled her hand away. “Does that mean you get together with other guys and fly model airplanes around?”

He made a face. “When you say it that way, it sounds even more pathetic.”

“No, that’s cool. You’ll have to show me your model airplane collection.”

“Are you sure?” His lips twitched.

“Why? Do you have a million of them?”

“No. But I can get kind of into it, and I don’t want to bore you.”

She whacked him on the shoulder. “You won’t bore me. And if you do, I’ll let you know you’re putting me to sleep.”

“Alright. After dinner I’ll take you to my collection.”

She stopped snapping the beans. “Take me? You don’t have them here?”

“No. They’re in a storage facility.” A sheepish grin formed on his face. “Okay, so maybe I have a few too many. But the facility is right by a huge open field so I can fly them right there. A lot of the guys use that storage facility for that reason.”

“I see.” She wasn’t sure what she’d agreed to, but figured she’d find out. She finished with the beans and slid the pile over to Camden so he could cut them up.

“What about you? Do you have any hobbies?”

“I love making pottery, but haven’t done it for years. Hard to take a kiln with you when you’re living out of a tent.” She was trying to make a joke, but it didn’t sound like it in the end.

“You used to make pottery? Like on a potter’s wheel?”

“Yeah. I learned how to do it in high school and got the bug. After I graduated, I found a shop that lets you throw your own pottery, then they bake it for you.” She loved that place. She’d spend hours making bowls and cups, getting the thickness just right on the sides. There was something about the clay and the water that spoke to her.

He pulled out a wok from the bottom cupboard. “That sounds cool.”

She laughed. “Well, I don’t know about cool, but it was therapeutic in a way.”

“Do you still have any of those pieces you made?”

She shook her head. Her mother threw them out after she moved out of the house. That still stung, but she didn’t want to talk about it. “No.”

“That’s too bad. Maybe you can get back into it. Have you checked to see if there’s a pottery place here in Richmond?”

“I haven’t looked. It’s been a while since I’ve done it.” She’d enjoy getting back into it, though.

Camden turned on the burner and a gas flame erupted. He put the wok on the flame and poured a little oil in the bottom. “What else do you do with your free time?”

“I love nature, as you probably guessed from the beach. I could watch birds for hours, or walk through the woods. Give me a gentle rain on an afternoon and I’m in love.”

The pan sizzled as he tossed the steak strips in. “I know what you mean. There’s something about being in nature that you can’t get anywhere else.”

“Exactly.” She’d learned that in spades as she camped across the U.S. It was a time of healing for her, and being out in the elements helped mend her heart.

“I’m lucky, living here. I have a great outdoor patio. I often eat out there.”

She glanced toward the dining room area, but didn’t see a place to go outside. “Where?”

He grinned. “I’ll show you when this is done.”

She took a step toward the vegetables, but Camden must have thought of the same thing because he went for them as well and they bumped into each other. Instead of backing up, he stood there, staring at her. She should have taken a step back, but instead she looked up into his dark eyes.

That was a mistake. Her stomach dropped and all thought left her brain. He stood so close, she could feel the warmth of his skin electrifying her. He leaned a little closer. Was he going to kiss her?

The thought of his lips on hers again made her heart stutter. She broke eye contact and took a step back. “Sorry,” she mumbled as he picked up the cutting board full of vegetables.

He didn’t respond, just put the veggies in the wok and stirred it together with his wooden spatula. “Do you want to get out the plates? They’re in the cupboard above the toaster.”

Her heart pounded. What was wrong with her? “Sure.” She tried to calm herself as she pulled out two plates. Why was she acting like a teenager with a crush? They were two adults having dinner together after a long car ride. Nothing more.

If she didn’t get her head on straight, she’d end up like she had a year and a half ago. In love with someone who cared more about money than about her. Only this time it was worse.

Camden was a billionaire.