Page 43 of Craving

A dull ache pulsed through Camilla’s chest, and she was ashamed for it. She watched the way Leo made sure Amelia had what she needed for her coffee, how he gave her the best piece of cake before serving himself. She listened to them talk about the things they’d done together on their honeymoon and how they planned to move out of Amelia’s apartment and buy a house of their own once her lease was up.

They were building a life together, where every piece was interconnected and supported. They had true companionship. Their relationship had blossomed into something incredibly beautiful.

Camilla had never had that. She’d felt apart from her family’s ambitions and status-seeking all her life. She’d never had a relationship where her partner truly supported her. She was feeling the shadow of her debt darken her world more and more with every passing day.

She felt alone.

For many years, Camilla’s independence had been a source of pride. She’d managed to move out and make it without the financial support of her disapproving parents. She’d survived that first bad relationship and built herself back up again. She’d created her bakery with nothing but her own efforts, and now it was a bustling, popular destination for locals and tourists alike. There had been hurdle after hurdle after hurdle, and she’d cleared them all.

Now, her independence felt like a burden instead of a gift. When would she get the best piece of cake for herself, instead of always offering it to someone else?

Marlon pulled out the chair beside hers and took a seat, placing a cup of coffee in front of her. She smiled in thanks, touching the rim of her polka-dot cup.

Maybe she wasn’t so alone after all. At least for the moment.

“Apparently our new neighbors found a secret cubby hole in their wall. There was a twenty-four-carat gold chain stuck between two floorboards.” Amelia shook her head. “Crazy, huh?”

Amelia’s elderly neighbor had gone on the run five months earlier, when the thievery ring she was part of had been discovered and broken apart.

“Have they found her? Your neighbor?” Camilla asked, grabbing her mug. It warmed her hands, and she thought it wasn’t only due to the heat.

Marlon put his arm on the back of her chair, a movement which Amelia followed with a razor-sharp gleam in her eyes. She glanced at Camilla, then cleared her expression and said, “No. She and her grandson—although we don’t know if he really was her grandson—were never caught.”

“I can’t believe this was happening in Stirling, of all places. This is supposed to be the wedding capital of America, not grand larceny central.” Camilla settled back in her chair and took a sip, the warmth of Marlon’s arm comfortable against her shoulder blades.

“You’d be surprised what goes on,” Marlon said. “We see all kinds of things in my line of work. This week, I installed a security system for a guy that had shady written all over him.”

“And you still took the job?” Camilla glanced at him, frowning.

Marlon shrugged. “His business was registered. He paid us the full supply and installation fee. There was no reason to refuse. It was just the vibe I got. I’ve met a lot of people, doing what I do.”

Camilla shivered. She thought of Frankie Smith, of the men who acted as his enforcers. Stirling wasn’t the quiet, sleepy town it appeared to be on the surface. After leaving his shop on Friday, she’d had to park her car in a church parking lot and do some deep breathing for ten minutes afterward, and Marlon had still been able to tell that something was bothering her when she got home that evening.

So no, Stirling wasn’t as pristine as it looked on the surface. Camilla just hoped she’d be done with its underbelly when her debt was cleared.

FOURTEEN

The next day, Camilla and Marlon picked up the new living room couch. Camilla had chosen a fabric-upholstered sofa with clean lines and slim wooden feet that nodded to the traditional elements of the home while giving the room a more contemporary feel. It was a neutral cream color that complemented the walls and the beautiful antique rug they’d found for a song at one of the stores the day before.

When all the plastic had been removed and the couch was in place, Camilla slumped down onto it and beamed at Marlon. “What do you think?”

He pursed his lips and nodded, then took a seat next to her. “Doesn’t even feel like the same room. I like it.”

She stretched her legs out onto the coffee table—they’d kept the same table he had before, since it matched the rest of the decor and was in good shape—and admired their work. They still had some styling to do, throw pillows to arrange, and lighting to position, but the room was turning out to be beautiful.

It felt like a home. Like her home.

Maybe…

But no. She wouldn’t allow herself to think past the first weekend of December. She’d already had enough distractions. Even redecorating this room had been an indulgence, never mind the fact that she’d done it with Marlon.

As if he could hear her thoughts, he stretched an arm across the back of the sofa behind her. The weight of his arm felt comforting, the tips of his fingers brushing her shoulder.

She turned her head to look at him. “Thanks for doing this with me. I think I needed it.”

Holding his gaze for a long moment, it looked like Marlon wanted to say something. Instead, he curled his arm and dragged her closer. She offered no resistance, letting him scoop her into the crook of his elbow as she settled against his chest. Marlon’s free hand was warm and calloused as he cupped her cheek, brushing frizzy tendrils of hair away from her temple.

“You’re so beautiful, Camilla.”