Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

Adalyn

Goat yoga.

With baby goats.

And Cameron Caldani. In workout pants and a skintight long-sleeved thermal.

This was the first activity on Green Oak’s fall brochure—or how I imagined Cameron referred to it in the privacy of his mind: small-town activities that will guarantee Adalyn’s demise. That was why I knew the brochure like the back of my hand. Just like with the Green Warriors, I was on the quest of never being blindsided again, so I could recite every detail of every activity scheduled from this weekend to the end of fall.

Number one being Green Oak’s Goat Happy Hour, referred to as GOGHH, taking place the last Sunday of every month at noon in the barn located on the south entrance of the Vasquez farm.

My quest also included the man I was up against, so now, I also knew everything public there was to know about Cameron Caldani. Born in the outskirts of London, to an English mother and an Italian father. Signed his first contract at the age of seventeen with a small team and flourished as one of the best goalkeepers in the Premier League. He went on to play for clubs based in London, Manchester, and Glasgow and was called twice for England’s national team early on in his career. Five years ago, when his prominence started fizzling out, he made the jump across the Atlantic and came to the US to play for the L.A. Stars. Until a couple of months ago, when he announced—in a rather out-of-the-blue manner—that he was hanging the gloves. For every team, he’s worn the number thirteen kit.

The latter I’d already known. Number thirteen was a rare choice for a keeper, but who I was to judge?

I was prepared. I’d even run to Outdoor Moe’s and gotten myself suitable clothes for yoga. Leggings and the only tank top he’d had in stock in a women’s size. It had SOMEONE IN GREEN OAK LOVES ME printed on the front, which didn’t ring exactly true, but I couldn’t come to GOGHH in a suit. I had, however, come here in heels. But it was okay. This was meant to be done barefoot—I assumed. And I was equipped with data, knowledge, leggings, and a shirt with a dubious advertisement. I was ready to show Diane and everyone in Green Oak the civil, responsible, and absolutely not unhinged person I was.

One of the baby goats bleated, startling me into the present and making my eyes gravitate to my right.

Okay, perhaps I wasn’t completely prepared. But I don’t think anyone could have been for the sight of Cameron Caldani standing barefoot on a pink mat, with the sun shining down on his outlined pecs.

Not even the dozens of pictures I’d browsed.

Accidentally.

Sort of.

Turned out, Cameron was on the reserved side of the spectrum where players were concerned. No major ad campaigns, barely any interviews, and hardly a picture of him with anything that wasn’t the full uniform, training gear, or a suit. There wasn’t a single picture of Cameron shirtless—which I hadn’t been looking for—that could have prepared me for that pec outline I was seeing right now.

With a shake of my head, I faced forward, spotting María in the distance as she walked in the direction of the group that had gathered for GOGHH. She was carrying a goat in her arms. One that wasn’t as young as the ones currently bouncing and swirling around the mats and definitely too big for María’s arms. Her eyes found me, and she tried to wave a hand at me, only managing to drop the goat to the ground.

I heard—and made the effort to ignore—Cameron’s grunt from my side. Exactly where sneaky Josie, who happened to moonlight as yoga instructor in addition to café owner and mayor, had placed him. This is what we always do at GOGHH, she’d said with a twitching eye. I personally assign all the spots. She’d been full of it.

The goat at María’s feet bleated.

Oh. “Brandy,” I said. “The six-month-old goat who is blind and suffers from anxiety.”

I had to press my lips to suppress a snort.

My eyes widened at that last piece of information.

The goat bleated in what I interpreted as confirmation.

I looked down, finding her slit-shaped eyes directed at me. “That’s, um, okay. Brandy.” She took a step my way, and I forced myself to smile at her in case she could sense my energy. I softened my voice. “We will be fine. No freaking out, okay?”

A snort came from my right. And when I glanced in the direction of the sound I found Cameron—and his stupid skintight thermal—with his eyebrows up. My smile fell.

Making an effort to rip my eyes off his chest, I settled them on his… left ear. “No wonder what? There’s nothing wrong with my smile.” I returned my attention to Josie, who was leading the group through a stretch. “I was smiling for Brandy, not you. And she liked it just fine.”

My cheeks flushed. But I lifted my arms in the air, drawing an arch in the air, just like Josie was doing. I was going to ignore Cameron and be my best-behaved self. Civil. Calm. A through-and-through GOGHH lover. I’d never done yoga, but how hard could it be?

I gaped as everyone followed along, heads and torsos disappearing from my sight. Diane and Gabriel and some of the team’s other parents were here. They all had their hands on their mats. Including Cameron.

Yes. Cameron Caldani, who was a six-foot-two mountain of lean and firm-looking muscle.

I gave it a shot and… my fingers didn’t even reach my ankles.

Okay. Maybe yoga was going to be a little hard.

Josie cleared her throat, catching my attention. She smiled, giving me an encouraging nod as she guided the group through a third repeat of the same exercise. I looked down at my legs, bending my knees a few times, as if doubting the flexibility of the leggings. I lowered myself, arching my back again. But… it didn’t feel right. Muscles pulled in the wrong places. Like… my ears. Or my butt.

I craned my neck, my eyes unfortunately landing on Cameron, who was now upright. Just like everyone else. I sprung up.

Josie moved on to a new stretch, and one more time, I was incapable of following. I let out a loud sigh of frustration, and Brandy, who had camped at the foot of my mat, bleated. I gave her an apologetic look. “Just a little frustration. No need to get anxious, okay?”

Just as if I’d developed some new and useless sixth sense, I felt Cameron’s eyes on my profile.

Mood plummeting, I turned my head, and just like I had known, those two deep green eyes were on me. Intently. Keenly appraising all the ways I was doing this wrong. It was impressive, really, the ability of this man to do that while his head hung so low between his legs.

Contrary to me, the man was flexible. And that position in particular was making every single muscle on his legs and arms stretch and flex and… pop. So much that it was impossible not to stare. Biceps, triceps, quadriceps, calves, even his ass as it stuck out in the air. It was a flexed-muscle-fest, and that stupid thermal he was wearing had no business being so tight.

My face shouldn’t have been feeling so warm, either. I—

Cameron’s eyes met mine again, and I cast my gaze away.

What in the world was I doing ogling him like that?

I refocused on Josie’s voice as it transitioned from whatever pose that had been to something that sounded like some Slavic dessert. Parlova? Pablova? I didn’t know, but I lifted an arm, flexed a knee, and looked down, trying my best to mimic Josie’s stance. Just as I was on my way to do a very awkward version of the Parlovskana—which included a strange leg flex—something ran into my side.

The leg supporting my weight was kicked from under me and I was knocked over.

Almost. Because hands closed around the top of my arms, securing me upright.

And thanks to the grunt reaching my ears, I didn’t need a sixth sense to know who those large and warm palms belonged to.

I glanced down, finding Brandy at my feet. “And here I thought you were on my side, Brandy.”

The blind goat nudged my leg again, and I felt Cameron’s grip tighten.

Curious about that reaction preceded by the bloody goats, I looked over my shoulder, finding his face right there. So close that I could see the slight wrinkles around his eyes. The specks of brown in the green of his eyes. The smooth-looking texture of his skin. An unsolicited wave of warmth climbed up my neck. Cameron’s hands dropped.

I blinked at Josie. “I’ll try?”

Josie’s gaze shifted to him. “She wants you to try your best, too, you know?” She tilted her head. “Hmm. You look tense, Cam. Would you feel better if I got a second goat to come over here?”

I frowned at the curt and direct answer. Was it… Was it possible that Cameron didn’t like the goats? “Well, I think I would love another goat,” I heard myself say. “Maybe even a few more.”

Before I could get a reaction from Cameron, someone from the back of the group piped up. “Josie, honey? Can we switch positions?” Diane’s voice was strained. “We’ve been holding Crescent Lunge for so long I think Gabriel is about to pull a muscle in his back.”

Josie’s eyes widened. “Sorry, Diane!” she called. And then, she snapped into action. “Okay, you two—or three,” she said, pointing at Brandy, too, “are stalling the class.” She walked around me, and next thing I knew Cameron’s hands were on my shoulders again. The warmth returned to my face. “And you, my dear Adalyn, are struggling,” Josie pointed out.

Cameron grumbled something.

Josie’s grin turned tight. “I’m not driving Gabriel to the ER again. GOGGH is going to go smoothly and without a hitch today. So, Cam”—she shifted her gaze behind me—“stop looking like you’re sucking on a lemon and help her. You clearly know what you’re doing.”

Cameron released a deep, loud breath.

One that I felt right at the back of my neck.

I swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of how close he was standing. Of the weight of his hands. Of the warmth of his body. Of what we were about to do. Together.

I sensed him step closer. “Team bonding,” he explained, the words reaching me in a murmur. “You set me up, Adalyn. After you forced my hand.” A pause. “You even recruited Josephine.”

His thumb swiped again, as if trying to loosen me up, and a rush of electricity raced down my spine. “So you’re saying you didn’t plan to volunteer me for this?” he asked, my whole body growing warm. Warmer. As if a furnace had been flipped on beneath my skin. “You just happened to take me down with you?”

I steadied myself. He was distracting me, baiting me, and I was not allowing that. I was not being knocked over by Cameron Caldani. Leaving this town without my success story of the Green Warriors wasn’t an option. Mostly because I didn’t think I’d ever be able to return to the Flames without it.

I released a strange exhale.

Beautiful.

Cameron sighed forcefully, and the puff of air leaving his lips hit my skin. A shiver crawled down my spine. “You need me.”

Outrage blossomed in my stomach. And I was glad for the change. This I could process. This—

His hands landed on my waist.

And if I’d thought his palms had engulfed my shoulders before, if I’d thought his touch had been overwhelming when it had been on my wrists, that’s because I hadn’t felt his hands where they were right now. Those fingers that had endured more blows and cracks than most reached the bottom part of my rib cage, the warmth of his skin making my top feel suddenly too thin.

Cameron maneuvered me, rotating my torso. And I felt myself go stiff. Tense. The fabric separating his hands from my skin sticking to me, as if melting under his touch. Or perhaps it was my own sweat. God, why was I sweating so much?

You need me.

Cameron’s hands readjusted around my body, one climbing up my side and the other clasping firmly around my waist. He pushed down.

But I was so caught up in the way I could feel the tips of his fingers creating ten pressure points on my skin, making it tingle, flush, buzz.

Stiff as a stick.

My throat worked, the memory of very similar words being said about me throwing me off. Unaware of my inner struggle, Cameron’s body shifted behind me, allowing me to feel the entire length of his front on my back. Chest, torso, thighs. He was right there. Rock solid. Warm. Close.

And without a single coherent thought left in my head, I spread my legs.

I sensed his head coming down, and then I heard, against my ear, “Take a step to the side and plant your foot firmly on the mat.” Something switched in me, releasing the control to him, and I moved. His palm fell on the back of my thigh and when he said, “Flex,” I flexed.

His long fingers stretched, wrapping around the inside of my leg. I puffed out a breath.

Because Cameron hummed in what I interpreted as disapproval, and in a swift motion, one of his arms was around my waist, and his foot was shoving one of mine out, widening my stance. The motion brought me right against him. His lap. And he grunted, “Hold.”

I held.

Beautiful. Good job.

My stomach flipped at the praise.

Something right in the middle of my belly swirled. All the blood in my face seemed to swoosh down before bouncing right back up.

What was happening? What was going on? Why were three very ordinary words making me feel this way?

A strange sound left Cameron, and I thought there was a chance I had passed out, right there and then, against Cameron’s lap. Because I didn’t think I could tune in Josie’s voice anymore. Or listen to the baby goats bleating. Or Brandy. Or the sun, the barn, the vastness of the Vasquezes’ farm, or the fact I was surrounded by hills and had left Miami for Green Oak. I was on sensory overload.

All I could feel was Cameron.

And I couldn’t recall a single time, a single instance in my life, when I’d felt like this. Just like when I’d tried to remember the last time I’d cried, I couldn’t pinpoint a specific moment in time when I’d been this overcome by a man’s touch. When I’d been this… hot.

This singlehandedly aroused.

I’d never slept around, but I’d been with two men before David. Three, counting him. I’d thought I’d been touched enough to know what physical touch was.

I was apparently wrong.

Because nothing, not one touch or brush or caress or moment of intimacy, had felt like this. Like Cameron’s hands felt on my body—even over my clothes. Like his chest and thighs pressing behind mine. Like his arms engulfing my sides. And this wasn’t even sexual. This was yoga. With farm animals. The man wasn’t trying to arouse me. He didn’t even like me.

God.

Had I fooled myself into believing that what I’d experienced in the past was the norm? That the dispassion I’d felt when David touched me was okay? Or had I been alone for too long after him? Jesus. Had I neglected my body so much that now it was jumping at the chance to be touched? By a man I could hardly talk to without locking horns?

Cameron’s hands guided me into the next position. I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t be, frankly. My head was chaos. Confusion. And when my chest started to feel tight, one thought solidified. I had to be the problem here. Cameron couldn’t be feeling any of this. I was stiff as a poker.

Frigid, boring, and forgettable. Dodged a bullet.

My rib cage expanded at his words, the air coming in and out more easily.

When I started feeling more like myself, I glanced around, searching the group and expecting to find every head turned. Even the goats. But no one was looking. Everyone was focused on their own practice, and Brandy was now resting on my mat. Close to our feet. Cameron’s feet.

Cameron’s body tensed behind mine, just like it had every time one of the furry animals had come close to him. His fingers spread, grazing the base of my neck. And when he spoke, I could hear the strain in his voice. “It’s just a goat.”

I slipped out of his hold, pretending I was frustrated at his blatant denial. I wasn’t. What I was was embarrassed. By Cameron, of all people, witnessing such a moment of weakness on my side. By him having to remind me how to breathe because I’d been too lost in my head over—nothing.

This wasn’t important. I didn’t even care whether he had some strange animal phobia. A part of me I was trying really hard to ignore even softened at the knowledge. I was deflecting, though.

And Cameron seemed to see right through me. “We’re all afraid of something in this life, darling,” he said. “The little freak-out you’ve just had is evidence of that.” A muscle on his jaw ticked. “It’s only a matter of time until I find out.”

Find out about what? I wanted to ask.

But Cameron Caldani was leaving my mat and walking back to his.

Storming off in a way and leaving me with too much to think about.

One more time.