“Kitten, I know this is hard, moving on, moving forward. It’s always hard, but we’ve got this. I’ll be right there with you, every step, Kitten, every step of the way.”
A strange noise escapes my chest. It’s sort of a combination of a gasp and a sob and Cam pulls me into him, kissing my head and my hair, stroking my back and my arms.
“Fuck, Kitten, I hate that you’re hurting like this. If I could bring them back for you, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’d gladly take their place so you didn’t have to feel like this.”
I let out a sob and cling to him. I don’t deserve this man. He’s just told me he would die to make me happy. How do I respond to that? I breathe into his chest, and when the feeling disappears from my toes, my breathing has calmed and my ability to speak has returned. I whisper hoarsely, “I’m so lucky, Cam. I’m so lucky to have you. I don’t deserve you, but I’m so grateful and so lucky to have you in my life.”
“Kitten,” he breathes my name with his lips pressed against my head and his hot breath makes my scalp prickle, “don’t say that. Of course you deserve me. We deserve each other.” He lets out a long sigh. “We’ve got here, Kitten. We’ve arrived here, at this point, because of a lot of fucked-up circumstances.” He tilts my face up and leans back so he can look at me better. “It’s not our fault. We didn’t choose to live or for them to die. It’s just the way it’s happened, and I know it hurts and I know it’s hard, but we’ve got each other.” He brushes my tears from my cheek with his thumb. “I’ve had fifteen years to work my way through the grief and the guilt, but this is all still so new and so fresh for you, but I promise, I promise you, it does eventually become more bearable. And on the days when it’s not, and you will have them. However far down the path you are, there are still days where it all comes crashing down and feels like it’s all too much. On those days and every other day, Kitten, I’ll be there for you. Whether you need my shoulder to cry on, my arms around you or you just want me to fuck off and leave you alone, I’ll be there, with you and for you.”
My face is a mess of tears and snot bubbles. I wipe it on my sleeve as best I can and then lean in and kiss him. I kiss him with everything I am and with everything I have.
“I fucking love the fuck out of you, Tiger.” I expect a reprimand, but instead, he just wraps his arms around me tighter and holds me for a while. My breathing and my heart rate settle, all traces of my impending anxiety attack gone.
“My mum has invited you to dinner tonight.” He moves us both in the chair so we can look at each other.
“Me?” he asks with a frown.
“Yeah, you. Why? Is that a problem?” He shrugs slightly.
“What about you? Where will you be?” I can’t help but laugh out loud. He’s worried. My big, bad Tiger thinks I’m sending him to my parents, alone, for dinner.
“I’ll be there too, you div. I promised my mum I would go home today. I’ve not seen her for two months, and as soon as I got home, you turned up and whisked me away. I need to go home and get out of these clothes and I need to unpack my case.” He looks at me while rubbing his fingers up and down my arm and rocking the chair back and forth slightly.
“Move in here.”
“What?”
“Move in here. Until we can find somewhere we want to buy together, move in here. It’s safe and secure. The press will leave you alone and I get to see you every day.” It all makes sense when he says it. It sounds like the most logical thing to do, but in my head, in my head all I can see is that old tumble drier full of socks of my mum’s going around, every sock representing a different thought, feeling and emotion rolling around in my head, chest and belly. “Let’s not waste any more time, Kitten. Let’s just be together.” I smile up at him. He looks tired, his eyes glassy. They remind me of the colour of a beer bottle today; it must be the brightness of the room.
“When did you get so clever?”
He gives me a smile and a shrug. “I’ve always been this clever. You’ve just never paid enough attention.”
I smile back. “You’re probably right.” We look over each other’s faces silently for a few moments.
“Pack a case when we go to your mum’s later and we’ll go and fetch the rest of your stuff tomorrow.”
“I haven’t said yes yet.”
He gives a small shrug. “But you will.”
We spend the rest of the afternoon looking at houses online, Cam ringing the agents and making appointments to view five, two on Thursday and three on Friday, all of them within a half hour drive of my parents’ and each of my brothers’ homes. Now I just have to tell my family my plans, which should be interesting.
Chapter Twenty-Three
We head over to my parents’ home at about five. Benny greets us as we climb into the back of a black Range Rover with blacked out windows. I’m not sure who’s in the driver’s seat, but I say hello as we climb in.
It’s freezing outside and there’s just one lonely photographer standing on the path outside Cam’s apartment block as we pull away. I actually wish the windows weren’t so heavily tinted so I could flip him my middle finger.
“Who’s car’s this?” I ask Cam as we pull off into the city traffic. He puts his arm across the back of the seat, pulls me in and kisses the top of my head.
“It’s yours.” What?
“Mine? I don’t have one of these.” I sold every car that Sean and I owned, except Hilda. I would never sell her.
“You do now, Kitten. I bought it for you.”
“Why? I don’t need you to be buying me a car.” He lets out a long sigh. It makes my hair move, which gives me goose bumps and makes my nipples hard in an instant.
Sean and I had chemistry; ours was borne more from knowing each other so well. We loved each other and sex was one of the ways in which we expressed our love. We had times when things got a little routine, but it was never boring. We liked to mix things up in the bedroom. We travelled a lot and were pretty adventurous when it came to finding new places to have sex: planes, boats, cars, backstage offices, but what I have with Cam is something else altogether. Whatever we do, however many times we fuck, I want more, all the time. I just want more.
“I know you don’t need me to, but I wanted to. I spoke to Bailey and he said you only had that shitty old banger you used to drive. Seriously, Kitten, I can’t believe you’ve still got that piece-of-crap car.” I want to smack him right in the mouth for that comment. In a split second, I’ve gone from wanting to fuck his brains out to wanting to punch his face in.
“My husband bought me that car,” I say quietly. His head swings around to face me, his mouth hanging open.
“Oh, shit, Kitten. I’m so sorry. Honestly, I had no idea.” He reaches across and takes my hand. I deliberately leave it limp, resting in his.
“Kitten?” he says quietly, “Please, I didn’t know. I just… shit.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, obviously thinking about what he’s going to say next, just in case he puts his huge size twelves in it again. “I just want you safe, Kitten. If you’re gonna be driving about, I want you in a car with a driver who’s gonna be able to keep you safe from the paps and any other arsehole who wants to make a nuisance of themselves.” Now I feel bad. “I didn’t know your husband particularly well, but I’m absofuckinlutely positive, he wouldn’t have wanted you running the gauntlet of all those photographers every day in your old car, and anyway, Scotty here would never fit behind the steering wheel.” My belly does a little backflip at the sound of Cam talking about Sean. He does it so casually, like it’s not an issue for him. So why am I struggling with it?
I look towards the driver’s seat and can see that Scotty fills the whole area, his head skimming the roof interior and his shoulders are much wider than the seat.