froze, didn’t look back, didn’t comment, just paused before he disappeared around the corner. Moments later, the back door opened and closed again.
Megan turned, a fake smile pasted across her face, and started down the hall toward her room, skirting around him. “Well, let me change and then maybe we can do dinner. You want to go out? I’m not sure I have a lot here—”
Cameron followed her into the bedroom and watched as she jerked off her robe and tossed it onto the mound of clothes on her bed. As she glanced into the mirror and sighed, Cameron came up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders and meeting her gaze in the reflection.
“You don’t have to pretend with me.”
Her bright green eyes held his. “I’m not pretending,” she assured him. “I’m ignoring the fact that for years I’ve been an enabler to someone who really doesn’t care about me, and I’m done. I’m also starving, so while I change, figure out what you want to eat.”
Cameron knew there was so much more in her, but he wasn’t pressing the matter...not when she was staring back at him with such vulnerability and was half-naked. They were back to that damn body-hugging dress again, and Cameron didn’t know if he wanted to keep looking or if he wanted her to cover up.
Megan’s entire body relaxed against his. Her bottom nestled against his groin, and Cameron tried to ignore the innocent gesture as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her securely. She needed comfort, needed to lean on someone even though it was against everything she stood for. She’d never admit she needed to draw from his strength, but Cameron was freely giving it.
Unfortunately, his fingertips barely brushed across the tops of her breasts before he could complete his hold. A shiver racked her body and vibrated through his.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered, her eyes still locked on his in the mirror.
Looking at her reflection was quite different from being face-to-face. He didn’t know why, but in the mirror he saw so much, too much. Her vulnerability stared back at him at the same time that her killer body mocked him. He was her friend, damn it. He shouldn’t be having these thoughts of how perfect she felt against him, how sexy she was.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” Even though his libido was taking a hard hit, it was the truth.
With a deep breath, Megan straightened and turned, all but brushing those breasts against his chest. Okay, really. He was a guy already on the brink of snapping the stretched line of control, and there was only so much more of this he could take.
“Are you working tonight?” she asked, oblivious to his inner turmoil.
“No.” He dropped his arms to his side and took a slight step back, away from that chest, the killer body that was slowly unraveling him. “Why don’t I run to the store and grab something while you change?”
“A night in?” She beamed. “Only if I get to pick the movie.”
Cameron groaned. “If I have to watch The Godfather again...”
With an evil laugh and a shrug, Megan stepped around him and started digging through clothes. “You choose the meal—I choose the movie. You know that’s how we work.”
Yeah, that’s how they worked. They’d been working like this for years, before his deployment and since. But in all the years they’d had this routine of spontaneous date nights with each other, never once had the urge to peel her out of her clothes been this strong.
Of course now that he’d seen her, held her and visually enjoyed her in this dress, he could think of little else. So in a moot attempt at holding on to his sanity, and their friendship, Cameron conceded.
“You win,” he told her. “I’ll be back.”
Even if he removed himself from the situation, Cameron knew he was screwed. Now that he’d seen her lush, curvy body, and felt it so intimately against his, he couldn’t not see it. The image, the feel of her, was permanently ingrained into him.
Penance for his sins of lying to her.
* * *
Every single time they settled in for a movie, Megan fell asleep within the first hour without fail. Tonight was no exception.
She’d curled her feet beneath her, rested her head on his shoulder and before the mobsters could leave the gun and take the cannoli, Megan was out.
Cameron propped his feet up on her coffee table and slid farther down on the sofa. Carefully, he adjusted Megan so she lay down, her head on his lap. Resting his own head against the back cushion, Cameron shut his eyes and attempted to relax. Her delicate hand settled right over his thigh as she let out a soft sigh.
With his hand curled over her shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall, Cameron realized he actually preferred resting just like this to his bed at home. At least here he had company. At home he had thoughts that kept him awake and staring at the ceiling fan. Work never fully left him—occupational hazard.
But here, with Megan, he could let work shuffle to the back of his mind. He didn’t want to burden her with his stress, so he purposely tried to be a friend first and a cop second whenever he was with her. Added to that, he reveled in the fact she was comfortable and sleeping soundly. He wanted to be her protector, her stable force. Somehow knowing he was all of that allowed him to let down his guard just a bit.
Crossing his ankles, Cameron rested an elbow on the arm of the couch. He’d muted the movie once Megan had fallen asleep, but the flicker of the screen lit up the room. As always, when they had movie night, all lights were off.
A shrill ring pierced the silence, and Cameron jerked awake. The TV had gone black, indicating he’d dozed off for a good bit, but he didn’t really recall how long ago that had been. The ring sounded again. He grabbed his side, but Megan’s phone on the table was the one lit up. Normally his phone was the one that rang at all hours.
She was still out with her head on his lap. He didn’t recognize the number on the screen. Shocked the caller wasn’t her brother, Cameron nudged Megan’s shoulder.
“Meg.”
She groaned and rolled to her back, blinking as she looked up at him. The sight of her utterly exhausted and rumpled from sleeping on his lap shouldn’t have his body stirring. Damn that red dress from the christening and the skimpy number she’d had on earlier.
The third ring ripped through the silence, and Megan was on instant alert. She jerked up, grabbed the phone and answered.
Cameron shifted his legs to the floor, immediately getting some blood flow back. They’d obviously been asleep for a while, which was what they had both needed.
Megan came to her feet and spoke in hushed tones as she walked into the other room. He assumed it was a client. Megan often counseled long after regular office hours were over. She was so good at her job because of how caring she was, how much she sacrificed to make sure her clients’ needs came first.
Cameron got to his feet, then twisted at the waist until his back popped in all the right places. He was getting too old to sleep on a couch, a car, his office. Unfortunately, he didn’t see an end to his bad habits anytime soon.
He
