“What kind of show?” My gaze flicked from our hands to the window and back again.

“I think it’s a ballet recital.”

My attention was focused partly on the weight of his hand in mine. “Is ballet her favorite?”

“I think it’s a mix between that and contemporary.”

Contemporary used a lot of ballet and it would make sense that she’d like a mixture of those. Cam eventually let go of my hand, which was a good thing because I was sure my palm was starting to sweat and that was just gross. The two hour drive went by way too fast. It seemed like minutes had passed by the time he got off the interstate and entered a small, hilly town that seemed to have been built into the side of the mountain.

And boy were we smack dab in the middle of mountaineer country. From every store front hung a WVU flag, as did the porches of the small homes. We continued through the town and out onto country roads that looked like they’d just been paved recently.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this nervous. My stomach roiled as he slowed and hooked a right, onto what seemed like a private road crowded with tall oak trees. My mouth was completely dry as he rounded a bend and a large, stately manor came into view.

It wasn’t so much that it was a huge house. The thing was big—colonial style, white pillars in the front, and three stories, but it reminded me so much of my parents’ home. Cold and perfect on the outside and mostly likely the same on the inside.

Cam followed the driveway behind the house and I got a closer view of the manicured lawn and beautiful, rustic landscaping. I swallowed, but my throat wasn’t really working. He pulled in next to a detached garage that was probably the size of a small ranch style home. Beyond the garage, I could see a covered, in-ground pool.

He turned the engine off and faced me, a slight small on his face. “You ready?”

I wanted to scream no and then take off, running straight for the nearby woods, but that seemed like a bit of an overreaction. So I nodded and opened the door, stepping out into temps that were at least ten degrees cooler than what we’d been in. I reached for my bag, but Cam tugged it out along with his much smaller one.

“I can carry it.”

Cam grinned as glanced at the bag he’d slung over his shoulder. “I’ll carry it. Besides I think the pink and blue flower print looks amazing on me.”

In spite of my nerves, I laughed. “It’s very flattering on you.”