A slight grin appeared. “My bedroom is right across the hall.”

My tummy tumbled. “Okay.”

The grin spread, turning wicked. “Just thought you’d be happy to hear that.”

“Thrilled,” I murmured.

He chuckled as he left the room, closing the door behind him. I sat there for a second and then threw myself onto my back.  Cam was right across the hall, which was no different than at the apartment building, right? Wrong. Tonight and tomorrow night he’d be closer than he ever had before.

#

About an hour and half later, I stood beside his truck as he put two long pillows up against the back of the truck’s bed. He’d backed the car into the spot so we could sit out and have a lot more space. We weren’t the only ones daring the cold temps at night. Several big trucks were park alongside us, doing the same with pillows and blankets. One even had an air mattress.

Cam came over to the tailgate and offered his hands. “Ready?”

I placed my hands in his and he lifted me up. The sudden shift in weight caused him to stumble back a step and his hands dropped to my hips to steady himself. An immediate rush of heat pooled into my stomach as I looked up.

Cam’s thick lashes hid his eyes as his hands seemed to flex. His lips parted, and my body tensed with anticipation. Under the starry night, it seemed like the perfect atmosphere for a kiss. I could practically feel his lips against mine.

He dropped his hands and turned to the two bags near the stack of blankets and pillows. Disappointment rose as he knelt down. Why hadn’t he kissed me?

Hell, why hadn’t he kissed me since our date?

“Here,” he said, rising. “Brought you something to help keep you warm.”

He held one of his skull caps and as he raised his hands, I caught the scent of his shampoo. I stood still as he pulled it down over my head, taking the time to tuck my hair back behind my ears before he was done.

“Thank you,” I told him.

Cam smiled as he grabbed the other bag and moved back against the pillows. I carefully made my way over to him and sat beside him. He pulled out the bucket of fried chicken and drinks we’d picked up on the way.

The movie started to play—an old one that seemed to be some kind of yearly custom, because there were several shouts and cheers as the first scene rolled across the massive screen.

“Home Alone?” I asked, looking at Cam.

He snickered. “It’s like a Thanksgiving tradition around these parts.”

I grinned. “I haven’t seen this movie in forever.”