Bow Down(134)
I slammed on my brakes, skidding my back tire wildly and coming to a halt. I smiled to myself as I climbed off my bike, sweat running down my back slightly, and looked up at the big brick townhouse. It was beautiful and old and in a nice neighborhood.
And it was the second thing we bought.
I carried my bike up the steps, unlocked the doors, and went inside. I hoisted the bike up and hung it on the racks Camden had installed in the foyer. His bike was already hanging, which meant he was more than likely home.
We didn’t have a car, which meant we didn’t have car payments. We’d put almost every bit of the cash we had into the house, and although we still had a mortgage, it was way more manageable than it would have been otherwise.
“How was school?” He appeared from the kitchen, drying his hands.
My heart skipped a beat, just like it did every single time I saw him.
“Pretty good. The usual.”
“Kids give you any trouble today?”
“Not at all.” I paused and smiled. “Maybe a little.”
He laughed. “Well come in here. I’m making tacos.”
I followed him into the kitchen and marveled at how much had changed in a year.
I was working at a local middle school teaching physics. The starting salary was decent, and it turned out that I liked running my own classroom. I biked to and from work every day, and I was probably in the best shape of my life because of it.
The kitchen smelled of strong spices as I dropped my bag on the island and sat down at the table. Camden put a glass of wine in front of me.
“Smells good.”
“Damn right it does,” he said. “Learned this in Mexico.”
“You’re such a good cook. How was work, by the way?”
“Classified.”
I laughed. It was the same answer he always gave ever since he’d started working for the government. About a month after we got back and started to settle into our new lives, he got a call from a man at the Department of Defense. Apparently, someone had recommended him for a job as an analyst. Nobody would say who gave him the recommendation, but we figured it was probably Jared or someone involved with his group. I didn’t know what an analyst actually was, and Camden wasn’t at liberty to explain. He traveled a lot, but he said he loved what he did.
And I loved him. I fucking loved him and always had. It seemed almost stupid and silly to put it that way, but it was the truth. Ever since the moment when I had thought I had lost him, really lost him for good, I knew how I felt. It was the one thing that shone through all the anger and the fear and the pain. It was what got me through.
He leaned down and kissed my lips. “Glad you’re home,” he whispered.
“Food first.”
“Food before what?”
“Food before fucking.”
He grinned. “And how did you know that’s what I want?”
“I can hear it in your voice.”
“I guess I just ooze sex.”
I touched his perfect, stubbled jaw. “You know you do.”
He grinned again and walked away, still preparing the meal.
“I wish you could tell me what you do,” I said after taking a sip of wine.
“Me too, Lace, but I can’t.”
“Come on. Give me something.”
He paused what he was doing and looked at me. “I have a desk.”
I blinked and then burst out laughing. “You have a desk?”
He nodded very seriously. “Yes. A desk.”
I couldn’t imagine Camden sitting at a desk. The guy I knew was a thief and a killer, although he was probably the best person I knew. He had done things, horrible things, difficult things, all to protect us. True, he had been protecting us from his own mistakes, but it would have been so easy for him to have simply walked away and given up. Instead, he had stayed and made things right.
“Do you sit at it much?”
“No.” He paused. “Okay, yes. I sit at my desk.”
“I feel like I really know how you spend your days now.”
He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a desk jockey.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re lying.”
He grinned again. “If I am, it’s for national security reasons.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Help me plate?”
I got up and pulled down silverware, setting the table first and then helping him put serving portions onto our plates. The food smelled rich and looked incredible.
We sat down at the table.
He lifted his glass. “To you and me. And to never going on another cross-country car trip again.”
I laughed. “Cheers to that.”
We clinked glasses and sipped our drinks.
“Dig in.”
We ate in silence. I hadn’t realized how starved I was. Taking care of a class full of advanced teenagers was pretty taxing sometimes. I relished the rich, delicious food. Camden wasn’t home every single day, but he cooked most nights when he was. He said he learned down in Mexico, mostly because he was bored and living alone.