Close to You (Fusion #2) Read online

  “I think someone’s trying to break into my house,” I whisper to her. “My power is out and I hear noises.”

  “Why are you calling me and not the cops?” Riley asks. “Jesus, it’s two in the morning.”

  “I wouldn’t know that. My power’s out. And there’s a murder-death-kill person here.”

  She giggles and I scowl at the phone. “This isn’t funny!”

  “You’re right. Did you lock your door?”

  “Yes.”

  “You need to get an alarm.”

  “Not the time to berate me,” I say, and take Scoot to the bathroom, locking him in. “I’ll protect you, baby.”

  “Who are you talking to?”

  “My cat.”

  “Jesus, you’re the crazy cat lady.”

  “Not helping,” I hiss, and drop to my hands and knees to find the baseball bat under the bed. “Seriously, I heard a noise.”

  “It’s a storm, Cami. It was probably a tree on your house or something.”

  I take a deep breath and sit on the edge of the bed, bat in hand.

  “You’re probably right. I don’t hear anything now.”

  “Go back to sleep. The storm will blow over.”

  I nod. “Okay. Good night.”

  “Night.”

  I hang up and shine my phone around the room. It all looks normal. Riley is probably right, I’m just scared because of the storm.

  Just when I stand to let Scoot out of the bathroom, I hear another noise. I tiptoe to the door and peek my head around, petrified to see my front door creaking wide open.

  Holy fucking hell.

  I clutch the bat in my best grand-slam stance and take a deep breath.

  “Whoever you are, you need to get the fuck out of my house!” I yell, sounding much more confidant than I feel. “I have a gun and the cops are on their way!”

  “Jesus, don’t shoot me.”

  Landon.

  I drop the bat just as Landon reaches the top of the stairs and I launch myself into his arms. And I do mean launch. My arms are wrapped tightly around his neck, most likely cutting off his air supply, and my legs are wrapped around his waist.

  “You scared me!”

  “I’m sorry.” He’s holding my ass, but when he realizes that I’m glued to him and he doesn’t need to hold me up, he runs his hands up and down my back, soothing me. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I wanted to come see if you’re okay.”

  “Why didn’t you just knock like a normal human being?” I ask with my face buried in his neck.

  “I didn’t want to wake you up if you were sleeping.” He sits on the bed with me in his lap.

  “So you thought that me waking up to a tall man at the side of my bed would be less scary?” He chuckles and kisses my cheek. “You seriously need to stop breaking into my house.”

  I pull back.

  “Wait. Is that how you got in yesterday morning? You picked the lock?”

  I can’t make out his face in the dark, but I feel his shrug. “Old habits die hard.”

  We used to break into each other’s bedroom window when we were kids. We’d sneak in and talk, especially during storms. I hate thunderstorms. I always have. I’m surprised Landon remembers.

  “Here I thought you had some kind of magical powers,” I say. “But in all reality, you’re just a felon. I couldn’t pick a lock these days if my life depended on it.”

  “I’m not a felon,” he says with a laugh. “And if I am, then we all were when we were young. And if memory serves, it was you who taught me how to pick a lock.”

  I laugh softly. “No one lived in that old scary house by the river when we broke into it. It was empty.”

  “It wasn’t ours to break into. I’m pretty sure I could turn you in for breaking and entering.”

  “I’m pretty sure the statute of limitations has expired on those adventures,” I reply, and poke him in the ribs. “Besides, it was you who used to taunt me and Mia about how it was haunted, and horrible ritual killings used to happen there.”

  “I was hoping to scare you away from there, not entice you even more.” He kisses my forehead. “I never would have guessed that the cute, responsible girl we all knew would have been up for trespassing.”

  “I was up for a lot of things back then,” I reply softly. “The consequences don’t seem so dire when you’re young. It seems you never outgrew your trespassing tendencies.”

  “You would have opened the door to me.”

  “Just freaking knock next time.”

  “Or you could just give me a key and save us all the trouble,” he replies, and kisses my forehead. As the adrenaline slows down, I realize that he smells delicious. His muscles feel amazing under my hands.

  He just feels so damn good.

  “They tore it down, you know,” I say, still staring into the dark. “That old house.”

  “I know. I drove by the other day and it was replaced with a row of town houses.” His hands are roaming soothingly up and down my back. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Where’s the gun?”

  Silence. I smile against his neck.

  “You don’t have a gun, do you?”

  “No, but I wasn’t going to tell a potential rapist that.”

  “You’re so funny,” he says, his hands moving over my back again. “I don’t have power either.”

  The sky lights up and I can see him for just a split second. His hair is still messy from bed. His eyes look tired.

  “Thank you for coming to check on me.” I rest against him. “You didn’t have to.”

  “You hate storms,” he murmurs.

  “That hasn’t changed,” I agree, and then I panic all over again. “Shit! Scoot’s trapped in the bathroom!”

  I shimmy off his lap and run to the bathroom, almost tripping on my new Choos on the way.

  “Why is he in the bathroom?”

  “Because I put him there to protect him,” I reply, and open the door. A pissed-off cat scurries out of the bathroom and jumps up on the bed. “He’ll be pissed at me for a while. Although, he’s always pissed at me.”

  “Now that I know you’re okay, I’ll head home.”

  “Stay.”

  He stills in the darkness. “Cami—”

  “You don’t have to have sex with me,” I rush on. “But I’d rather not be alone.”

  “Come here.”

  I cross to the bed and reach out when I can see his silhouette against the windows, careful not to fall into him. He takes my hand and pulls me down into his lap.

  “When we have sex, it won’t be because either of us has to.” His lips are just barely touching my cheek as he speaks. “It’ll be because we’re both ready and can’t keep our damn hands off of each other. Making love to you will never be a chore.”

  “I should hope not.”

  “And as for tonight, I’ll happily stay if it makes you feel better.”

  “It does.”

  “Do you want me on the couch?”

  “No. I want you to lie in my bed with me and hold me.” I’m breathing easier now. “Please.”

  He groans as he lifts me, and with me in his arms, he toes out of his shoes and lies down in my bed, gently lowering me beside him.

  “You’re strong.”

  “You’re sweet,” he says as he pulls me against him. I lay my head on his chest and wrap my arm around his waist and sigh deeply. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t go away.” I’ve relaxed against him, feeling safe and calm once again.

  “I’m here.”

  Scoot climbs onto Landon’s belly and lies against my arm, purring, and before long I feel myself drifting back into sleep.

  Chapter 6

  ~Landon~

  “Hello?”

  “Where are the screws?” Cami asks in my ear as I lay my drill down and frown at the room in general.

  “What screws?”

  “The ones at the home supply store.”
r />   I grin and fold my arms. “You’re at Home Depot?”

  “Yes, and I can’t find the damn screws.” Her voice is thick with exasperation and I can’t help but wish I was there to witness this. It’s been more than a week since the power went out and I spent the night with her in my arms, and I’ve barely seen her since then because of both of our work schedules. I’m determined to spend the weekend with her.

  “Do you see the signs at the ends of the aisles? Nails and screws should be listed somewhere.”

  She grumbles in my ear as I motion for my foreman. I put her on mute.

  “I’m gonna run an errand, but I’ll be in back in less than an hour.”

  “Sounds good, boss.”

  “Cami? I’m coming down there.”

  “You don’t need to come here, Landon, I just don’t know where anything is.”

  “You’re not far away. I’ll see you in a few.”

  I hang up and hurry out to my work truck. The truth is, I miss seeing her beautiful face. I’ve talked to her on the phone a few times, and there have been plenty of texts, but I need to see her.

  I pull into the parking lot, finding a slot close to the door, and jog inside. I find her in the nail and screw aisle, her nephew Steven standing next to her, fuming.

  “I’m telling you, Cami, those screws are too small. The shelf won’t hold.”

  “Don’t yell at me!”

  Steven looks up and sees me. “She called both of us.”

  I reach out and shake his hand, then turn to Cami. “How’s it going, Bob Vila?”

  “I want these screws.” She’s frowning, her lips twisted in frustration. “But Mr. Know-It-All says they won’t work.”

  “What are you building?”

  “I’m redoing my pantry.”

  I nod. “Why did you call both of us?”

  “Because it’s always better to get more than one opinion,” she says reasonably. “And he didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear.”

  “Oh my God, Cami, I’m out.” Steven pulls at his hair and looks up at me. “She’s all yours.”

  “I love you,” she tells him sweetly.

  “Yeah, I love you too, and it’s a good thing because otherwise I wouldn’t put up with your shit.” He grins and leaves as she blows him a kiss.

  “Steven grew up,” I say, surprised.

  “He’s in college now,” she says with a nod, still staring at the screws. “He’s working at the restaurant a few days a week.”

  “Awesome. Still living at home?”

  “No, he’s living with his girlfriend. Amanda and Brock moved to Seattle about a year ago for a job opportunity, and Steven wanted to stay here. I offered him my guest room, but I think he likes having a little freedom. He checks in with me.”

  “Okay, tell me more about your pantry.”

  “Okay. So, I want to redo the shelving and paint it. It currently has wire shelves, and whoever put them in there should be hung by them.” She scoffs, making me grin. “I can’t put granola bars on them. Or little packets of taco seasoning. They fall right through!”

  “So you want wood shelves.”

  “Yes.” She nods. “So what screws do I buy?”

  I survey the packages of screws on the wall and pull a few down. “These.”

  “Okay. Now I need shelves.”

  “Let’s go.” I take her to the organization aisle and we pick out the shelves she wants, along with brackets and bins.

  “Now, since you’re here . . .” She bats her big green eyes at me.

  “Yes?”

  “I need paint and a door.”

  “A door?”

  “I really want to replace the plain one with one of those pretty ones with the glass in them that says ‘pantry.’”

  She bites her lip and looks up at me, and in this moment, I’d give her just about anything she asked for.

  “Okay, a door it is. This way.” She follows me all the way to the other side of the store, stopping on the way to pick out a paint color, brushes, and other painting supplies. After we’ve chosen her new door, we make our way to the checkout counter.

  “I can’t fit this all in my car.”

  “I have the work truck,” I say, leading her to it. “I’ll just take this stuff with me and meet you at your place after work. I’ll help you put it together.”

  “Well, at least let me take the paint and I’ll get that done before you get there.”

  “Good plan.” She helps me unload the flat cart, takes the paint, and sends me a winning smile.

  “Thank you, Landon.”

  “You’re welcome.” Before she can walk away, I grab her hand and tug her to me, lower my head, and kiss her softly. “I’ll see you a little later.”

  “Looking forward to it,” she breathes. She sends me a sassy smile, then turns and walks to her car, a little extra sway in her step, her pretty blond hair bouncing around her shoulders.

  I want her.

  IT’S LATER THAN I anticipated when I pull up to Cami’s house, thanks to a bunch of snafus at work this afternoon and then getting tied up at my dad’s office discussing a new job.

  Work is really interfering with my love life.

  I use the key Cami gave me to let myself in, and find Scoot lying on the back of the couch, sleeping soundly. He opens his eyes when I walk past, but then falls right back to sleep, not caring in the least that I’m here.

  Suddenly I hear . . . giggling. I walk into the kitchen to find a war zone. Food, bins, and appliances cover every surface. The pantry door is standing open. I can’t see inside it, but I hear a loud thud, then Cami giggle, and another female voice says, “Ow! That was my knee!”

  “Sorry.” More giggling. I quietly walk around the island until I can see inside the pantry, then stop, fold my arms over my chest, and watch the show.

  Because it’s quite the show.

  All of the old wire shelves have been taken out. Cami’s on her hands and knees, painting along the baseboard. Kat is rolling up high, and they’re chattering away.

  “Dick size is important,” Kat says, as if she’s talking about the weather. “I mean, if it’s too small, it’s like, Are you in yet? And if you have to ask that question, it’s not a good sign.”

  “Definitely not,” Cami says, slurring her words. She sits back on her haunches, giving me a prime view of her back and ass, and takes a sip of wine, right out of the damn bottle. “And if they’re too big, it’s like, ouch! I prefer a medium-sized dick.”

  “Yes!” Kat says, nodding. “Medium-sized is perfect. Not fun-sized. Why do they call it fun-sized, anyway? What’s fun about small pieces of chocolate? Or small cocks?”

  “Or small dicks,” Cami adds, then laughs. “Oh, you just said that.”

  “It’s worth saying twice,” Kat says. “Also, the last douche I dated? What was his name?”

  “Craig?”

  “Yes!” Kat exclaims, pointing at Cami. “Craig. He wouldn’t go down on me. What the fuck is up with men who won’t go down on a girl?”

  I smirk, completely agreeing with Kat, and more than a little shocked. Jesus, girl talk is a hell of a lot more explicit than locker room talk. Who knew? This is fascinating.

  “Right? Like, we’re supposed to suck them off like some kind of sucking Olympian, but they won’t return the favor?” Cami asks before drinking more wine. “It’s ludi-ridicu . . . It’s dumb.” I cover my mouth to keep from laughing at her stumbling over her tongue.

  God, she’s fucking hilarious.

  “So dumb,” Kat agrees. “Does Landon do it for you?”

  Now my interest is very piqued. I wish we’d already made love so she could brag a bit. But then again, I’m not so sure how I feel about her sharing our intimate time together.

  Which is a change for me. I don’t think it would have ever bothered me in the past.

  “We haven’t done any of the sex stuff.” Cami takes a sip of wine, then bends over to touch up some paint, showing me her perfectly round, begging-t
o-be-kissed ass.

  “None?” Kat looks down at her and frowns. “Like, at all?”

  “We kiss sometimes,” Cami says. “Maybe he doesn’t want to do the sex.”

  Oh, he wants to do the sex, sweetheart.

  “He does,” Kat says, her voice confident. I nod.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because he’s a man. Trust me, he wants the sex.”

  “I think he likes me,” Cami says.

  Oh, I like you.

  “I hope so. Otherwise I’ll have to remove his manhood,” Kat says, and they both giggle.

  “Don’t do that,” Cami says right before snorting, which makes her laugh even harder. “I have plans for his manhood. I think he’d be really good at the sex stuff. Like, really, really good.”

  “You know, if he doesn’t initiate sex, you should just drop to your knees and suck him.” Kat nods once. “Just go to town on him.”

  Jesus. Just the thought has me rock hard. I need to interrupt this conversation, but just before I step forward, Cami says, “I thought about it. I might just attack him.”

  “Yessssss!” Kat says. “Do it. Seriously.”

  I clear my throat and walk toward the pantry like I just got here. If they keep talking like this, I’ll scoop Cami up and take her upstairs to rectify the no-sex-yet situation, and she’s way too drunk for that to be our first time.

  “Hello, ladies.”

  “You’re just in time!” Cami says with a smile and staggers to her feet, then gives me a big hug.

  “I am?”

  “Yep, lover boy,” Kat says, and lifts her bottle of wine. “We’ve painted the pantry.”

  “Say that five times fast,” Cami says with a giggle. “Painted the pantry. Painted the pantry. Printed the pinto.”

  “Ha! Printed the pinto.” Kat laughs.

  “I like the color,” I reply, admiring the deep coral that looks happy and cheerful in the nice-sized pantry.

  “Me too,” Cami says happily. “It’s pretty.”

  “Your kitchen is a hot mess,” Kat says with a frown as she walks out of the pantry and throws her empty bottle of wine in the trash. “This is going to require a small army.”

  “Or a box of matches,” Cami says. “I could burn it all down and start over.”

  “But we just planted a pantry,” Kat replies, then snorts. “Boy, we’re drunk.”