“No.” He blew out a breath. “I don’t know. No, I didn’t want you to be happy without me, exactly, but it makes me nuts that you’ve been alone and feeling… not good enough and not valued and not fulfilled. It’s… confusing as fuck.”

She laughed softly. “Actually, I get it,” she said, realizing that she really did.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been really happy that you have been so successful. I watched your football career and, of course, everything that’s happened with Fluke and I’ve been proud and happy about how that all turned out. Even though I really missed you and it made me sad to be without you.”

His eyes flashed at that and Whitney had the definite impression that he wanted to reach out and pull her in close.

“And,” she went on. “When I watch you with the guys, and with Piper, I’m so, so happy that you have them. Even while I’m jealous of how well they know you and all the memories they have with you.”

She saw him ball his hand into a fist, as if fighting that urge to reach out.

“So,” she said. “I get what you’re feeling a little, I think. I care about you enough to want you to be happy but I also care enough to be a little sad that I’m not a part of it.”

He nodded. “I definitely hate that you haven’t been happy. And I definitely want to be a part of making you happy. And I’m pretty thrilled that what you need is friends, because I have some of the best and I’m happy to share. That is, at least, something I can give you.”

She smiled even as her throat tightened. Being friends with him and him realizing how important this Hot Cakes project was to her was amazing. She didn’t have to worry about hurting him or choosing work over him and ruining everything.

And the intense desire to step forward and wrap her arms around him and beg him to cover her in chocolate sauce was just a product of that relief and gratitude.

Probably.

“For the record, it’s also nice to have a friend helping with Didi. I’m kind of winging it there too.”

He smiled. “When I first came back to town, if someone had told me this”—he looked around the kitchen—“is where you and I would be, I never would have believed them.”

She nodded. “I know.” It seemed crazy on the surface that the person who knew about Didi and was helping her with the caregiving was Camden McCaffery. Yet… it didn’t feel crazy. “And I—” She took a breath. “I trust you. If you think her playing video games with Henry is good, then… it’s good. I don’t know what I’m doing.” Whitney shrugged. “My philosophy is pretty simple—when I’m her age and I know I’m running out of time to remember the fun and the people that matter, then I’m going to do what I want, when I want. If I want burgers at three a.m. with my granddaughter or margaritas by the pool at nine a.m. with my granddaughter’s ex-boyfriend, then, yeah, I’m going to do that. And pray I’ve got people around me who will let me, while keeping me safe.”

Cam just looked at her for a few beats. Then he nodded. “So you do know what you’re doing.”

That surprised her. She laughed lightly. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re making her happy and doing it out of love. That’s what you should be doing.”

Whitney stared at him.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Just… thank you.”

“I mean it.”

“I believe you. It means a lot from you.”

“Because I’ve been an ass to you for ten years over other decisions you’ve made?”

She snorted. “Something like that.”

He tipped his head in acknowledgment. “Well, it’s come to my attention that I was angry at someone who… isn’t real.”

She felt her eyes widen.

“I thought I knew you, Whit. But I’m learning that I don’t. I knew the eighteen-year-old you. And I’m not sure I even knew her that well.”

He was right, of course. It had been a long time since they’d known each other and how well did two eighteen-year-olds really know one another? Or themselves for that matter? Especially when at least half of their time had been spent making out. They’d had to sneak around because of their families’ animosity toward one another, so she’d never seen him with his grandmother or gone to the movies with him or… anything else. Their time together had always been alone and it had been stolen, hidden time.

“You have a point,” she said. “We’re just getting to know each other. Like new acquaintances.”

“Well…” He gave her a slow smile. “We know a few things about each other. I mean… I do know that you’re ticklish behind your left knee and that tequila and Jason Aldean songs make you horny and you love when I kiss your—”

She stepped forward, slapping her hand over his mouth.

He lifted a brow and she felt his mouth curve behind her palm.

“If I was taller, I would have kissed you to shut you up too because, yeah, the hand over the mouth is a little aggressive.”

He nodded.

She let her hand drop away. “But yeah, you need to shut up. That’s not stuff friends talk about.” The heat was still swirling through her body and she could hear Jason Aldean’s “Crazy Town” playing in her head.

He held up a hand. “You’re right. Sorry.”

She nodded. “Okay. So… friends.”

“Friends.”

She glanced at the cake pan on the counter. “And you didn’t make those bars to use the way you’d suggested using the cookie dough the other night then?”

He cleared his throat. “Um, no. They’re for Didi actually.”

“You made my grandmother bars?”

“Letty’s recipe. Something she never made for the bakery. Only family and close friends ever got those bars. Didi mentioned to me that she missed Letty’s baking and cooking all these years. Thought she’d enjoy tasting some of it again.”

Wow. That was pretty sweet. Nice even.

“What?” he asked when she didn’t react.

“You’re doing all of this, with my grandma and the bars and the support at work, and you’re actually insisting that we not sleep together.”

He cleared his throat again. “Right.”

“Huh.” She believed him. And that actually did make her relax a little. “Well, save me a bar? To eat.”

“Sure.”

She gave him a smile and turned to head upstairs.

“Hey, Whit?”

She turned back. “Yeah?”

“Just out of curiosity… if I had made the bars for that purpose…”

She grinned and her eyes went to the stool where she’d been very happily shirtless and he’d been the one to pull back. “Totally would have worked.”

He grinned. “Good to know.”

And even though they were talking about putting chocolate cookie dough on nipples, she felt a warm surge of happiness. Friendliness even.

Friends. Just friends. With Camden McCaffery.

Well, stranger things had happened.

Probably.