“Then I’m yours.” My paranoia tells me his proclamation has to be tit for tat, but this is Cam. Not a jaded businessman who thinks the boss’ sons are out to get him. How could he have such a methodically planned list of wants and yet only a matter of minutes after my confession decide to accept me? I must be gawking like a buffoon, because he smirks and whispers, “Nod, Pete.”
