Page 68 of Tempt Our Fate
Rosemary gasps as the door shuts behind him. “I knew it!” She gawks, staring at Camden in shock. “You’re getting freaky with him!”
I close my eyes, wanting to disappear from the face of the planet. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. I groan, letting one eye pop open to find Camden looking between Rosemary and me, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.
“Excuse me?” He coughs.
“You’re penetrating our dear, sweet Pippa, aren’t you?”
Jesus. I don’t know what’s worse. Her saying “getting freaky with it” or using the wordpenetrating. They’re both terrible—horrific—and the pink tinge to Camden’s cheeks tells me he agrees.
Rosemary’s words are so out of pocket that she’s even making cool, calm, and collected Camden blush.
“Well, are you going to answer me?” Rosemary asks. She pulls her glasses down her nose, her eyebrows raised on her wrinkled forehead, waiting for Camden to answer.
He looks at me, clearly not knowing what to do in this situation. Too bad I have nothing for him. This is what nightmares are made of. I take back every single thing I ever said about loving living in a small town. This part is mortifying. Having people invested enough in your life to pry into it even when it’s none of their business.
Maybe this is my karma for being nosy.
Maybe it’s hearing Rosemary continue to fire questions at Camden in rapid succession—using words from the human language that should never ever be used to describe sex.
“How long have the two of you been fornicating?”
“Are you making sure to wrap your willy?”
It keeps getting worse and worse until I hold my hands in the air. “Rosemary! Can we not?”
She places her knitting supplies in her lap, pinning me with a disappointed-grandmother-type look. “I’m just asking some questions, dear.”
I look at the clock above the door. “Looks like we’re closed now. How about I help you gather your things? I bet Harold is waiting for you at home!”
She gives me an incredulous look. “No. You know darn well he’s sleeping in his recliner, pretending to watch TV.” She looks back to Camden. “You listen very closely, young man.” Camden’s eyes widen at the way Rosemary’s voice turns stern. “If you hurt Pippa, I might just kill you. I’m old enough I could handle a few years in prison before dying there. She’s gone through too much, and I don’t know much about you New Yorkers. You hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” His voice catches for a second. Is he actually scared of her?
I try to hide a grin despite the mortification seeping through my veins. This is too funny. I think sweet, old Rosemary terrifies Camden.
“I won’t hurt her,” he promises, his eyes finding mine for a split second.
Damn. I really like him. He’s cute right now, fumbling over words under the scrutiny of Rosemary, and I’m eating it up. I like seeing this vulnerable side of him.
I’m starting to like a lot of things about him. A lot.
“I best be going now,” Rosemary mutters, acting as if it was her idea to leave, as if I wasn’t just begging her to disappear two minutes ago.
I try to help her, but she swats my hand away. Camden stays frozen in place. These kinds of encounters probably don’t happen where he’s from. Everyone is too busy with their own life to worry about yours. That isn’t the case here in Sutten. Not even close.
Rosemary stops halfway to the door, her wise eyes bouncing between Camden and me. “One more thing before I go. You make sure to use that condom, you got it? Or I can ask Dr. Boone if you’re on birth control, Pippa?”
A blush creeps over my cheeks just when I thought I’d gotten rid of the flush from the last outlandish thing she said. This is another terrible thing about a small town. We all share the same doctor, who hopefully wouldn’t share details about my health—like my current birth control status.
“You have a great night,” I squeak, pretty much pushing Rosemary out the door. I’d much prefer to forget this encounter ever happened—and for Camden to wipe it from his memory as well.
“Good night, dear,” Rosemary calls over her shoulder, completely unbothered.
When the door shuts behind her, Camden looks at me, his eyes wide. “Well, that was an experience I never thought I’d have.”
I let out a long, controlled breath. “Can we pretend that never happened?”
His nice shoes make a smacking sound against the floor as he walks to me, holding the flowers out between us. “Happy first date.” He says the words with a hint of a smile on his lips.