She glanced at him over her shoulder, her smile miles wide. “You had help.”
Nodding, he circled around her. “I did, indeed.”
She took in the romance of the room, her mind capturinga snapshot she knew she’d never forget. “Your camera?” she asked softly.
She couldn’t remember ever seeing him without it.
He dropped to one knee on the quilt and held out his hand, inviting her into his world. Golden light slid across his skin, leaving him half-lost in rosy shadow. “Tonight, I wanted to go it alone.” Color rose in his cheeks, one of those unexpected blushes that made her imagine the adorable boy he’d been. “You and me, I mean.”
His apprehension cleared hers like morning sun burning through fog.
There was food, so she nibbled—cheese and crackers, sliced fruit, apple juice.
“No alcohol. Pain meds,” he said, tossing a pointed glance at her arm. “And the gallery incident.”
She swallowed a laugh at that but played dumb. No need to knock him down a peg for getting tanked with his cousin in full view of half of Promise, South Carolina. She definitely wasn’t going to mention that she’d heard he fell off a desk in Justin’s gallery.
“You couldn’t get a blanket from the Rise?” she asked, running her fingers over the patchwork quilt she’d snagged at a thrift store for four bucks, if she remembered right. It had lost its luster ages ago, but it was still charming.
Campbell had drifted to his elbows, his legs a long, mouthwatering stretch in front of him. Forget the crackers—helooked good enough to eat. “Bring John Nelson into this bit of enchantment?” he asked, releasing a sound somewhere between a groan and a snort. “Kill me now.” He gave her a wicked smile that made her press her thighs together to stop the quiver. His grin deepened, fingers twitching around his glass. Shameless, he knew exactly what those ardent looks did to her. “Plus, Jaime has a key to the studio.”
“Romantic fool, slash conspirator.”
He dropped his head back, staring through the glass ceiling like answers might be scrawled across the ebony sky. “And Dix, geez, I’ve never seen the guy more excited. Not even when our first travel shots landed in theTimes.”
Fontana fumbled to put the pieces together, because he was moving so delicately, like she was fragile, breakable, something he had to handle with extreme care. After the past two days, she could hardly blame him. Even if all she wanted was to rip his clothes off and make him forget his own name.
As he’d promised—if only with his eyes—every time he looked at her.
“So…you want to date? Is that what this is about?” She scratched at her bandage, the wound itching like a beast. “Confirm it officially. Citizens of Promise: we’re a couple.” Everyone in town already knew. But if saying it out loud eased that troubled look he got when he thought she wasn’t watching, she’d do it. They could make it public and see where it led, thisthingof theirs.
He eyed her injured arm, a frown cutting across his cheeks. There it was again—that flicker of distress. “Swear you’ll never tell Dix how this went down. He’ll kill me. I brought you to my favorite place and everything.”
“Atlanta, I?—”
He came up quickly, rummaging through his bag before dropping to his knee beside her. His gaze locked on hers—scorching, steady—all that layered intensity Campbell always carried, now fixed solely on her. A buttery-yellow velvet box, worn and soft as the quilt beneath them, rested in his palm. “I don’t want to date, love of my life. I want to getmarried.”
Her lips parted, thoughts tumbling. “Oh, um, I don’t…”
Campbell slipped the ring on her finger and settled back on his heels, grinning at the perfect fit. Fontana flexed her hand, watching candlelight dance off a sapphire sittingfat and sassy at the center of a circle of equally stunning diamonds. It was the most incredible piece of jewelry she’d ever seen.
“My great-grandmother’s. The stones in the band are art deco, 1920 or so. I always loved this ring.” His gaze drifted, then found her again. “I don’t know why exactly. Then I met you, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it on your finger. Your eyes, I guess. They hit that shade sometimes.” Another of those delightful blushes lit his cheeks, and she wondered when, exactly, her eyes everhit that shade. “I’ve had it bouncing around in my coat pocket, the darkroom, the truck, which is asinine, I realize, for weeks.”
“Campbell, I?—”
He sighed, his shoulders dropping. “So, you’re going toCampbellme, huh?”
“Cam, I?—”
He laughed and pulled her against his chest, careful with her arm. His lips swept along her jaw, landing on that sweet spot at the curve of her neck and shoulder, the one he knew, heknew, fired the starting gun on the race to an orgasm. “You slay me, woman. You truly do.”
She laughed, too, helpless, caught up in the joy of the moment. Could the man do nothing by the book, ever? “Stop. Cam,stop.”
“That a yes?” he whispered, sucking skin between his teeth to make sure the question landed.
She moaned, tilting her head to give him better access. “There wasn’t a question, you silly fool.”
He drew back, eyes glistening, his gaze hot at the edges, the way it got when he was losing himself in her. She nearly melted right there, a puddle on the heart pine planks of his beloved warehouse.
