Cam's Chance (Arrowtown Series Book 5)

by Lisa Oliver

  Fabulous Fergus broke all Cam’s rules. For one thing, Cam was thinking about him and they hadn’t even met. And if Cam had his way, they weren’t likely to. The wonderful food notwithstanding, Fergus lived in town. He was a permanent resident and new business owner. Off limits in other words.

  Cam managed a half smile as Mayor Ra stepped up to the bar, holding an empty bottle and an equally empty glass. “It was nice of you to come down here just to say goodbye to Mary,” he said, putting down his own drink so he could replenish Ra’s.

  “She’s a good lady and that mate of hers is a fine young man,” Ra said with a shrug. “Besides, I heard you got Fergus to do the catering and I can’t resist his eclairs. Have you tasted them?”

  No. Cam couldn’t bring himself to taste any of the delicious food being served by three very friendly bunny shifters. He just knew if the food tasted as good as it smelled, then he’d be lurking around the bakery door at some ungodly hour of the morning just to get another taste. “I’ve been busy,” he said, because all shifters could smell a lie. “The crowd seems happy with it all though.”

  “Fergus runs a good clean business. Seems like a genuine guy.” Ra nodded. “I had Deputy Joe check him out of course, but it turns out he’s not a buffalo like Joe’s relatives, but a genuine Highland bull shifter. He’s turned out to be a godsend in one respect. If I hear my wee Seth is having a frazzled day with the kiddies, I grab six of the cream donuts Fergus makes and my mate is happy again.”

  For a tiger shifter, and ruling mayor, Ra was ridiculously smitten with his bunny mate, although even Cam could admit young Seth was adorable. “So, Fergus hasn’t been here long then?” Okay. Cam would admit it to himself, he was curious about his mental obsession. He grabbed Ra another bottle of his favorite beer and poured a soda for Seth in a fresh glass.

  Leaning his elbows on the bar counter, Ra seemed happy enough to talk. “He came in on a transfer from another shifter town up north about six weeks ago,” he said, tilting up the bottle and taking a long swig. “He filed a business plan along with his application to live here. Bank statements showed he had enough money to buy his house here, and start up his business, at least according to Simon. Rocky called the sheriff at his old town, but apparently, he hadn’t had any troubles there. According to his application, Fergus just wanted a change of scenery and warmer weather, and he said the same thing when I spoke to him.”

  “Hmm.” Cam pushed Seth’s new drink across the counter. He was feeling surprisingly put out and he wasn’t sure if it was his spidey senses warning him about an unknown man who just appeared in town out of nowhere for flimsy reasons, or if he didn’t like the fact Ra had spoken to the man when he hadn’t. “He’ll find it plenty warm enough here until winter hits again.”

  “Seriously, you should hire him to do your lunches,” Ra said with his laid-back grin. He leaned further over the counter and whispered, “don’t tell Mary, but his buns and salads, sandwiches, and pies are a lot better than hers. He makes all his own bread and pastries and anything I’ve eaten of his just melts in my mouth.”

  “Oh yeah,” Cam laughed. “I’ll be sure to tell a heavily pregnant lioness that someone else in town bakes better than she does. In fact, why don’t I call her over and you can tell her yourself.”

  “You keep your big mouth shut.” Ra’s face went white. Snatching up the drinks he ordered, he disappeared into the crowd. Still chuckling, Cam filled a few more drink orders and was just going to grab some empty glasses when he spotted Sarah, a young bunny shifter who’d come from the bakery, lurking at the side of the counter.

  “What’s up, Sarah? No one giving you any trouble, are they?” Cam picked up a rag and started cleaning down the counter top.

  “Oh no. Everyone is always lovely to me.” Sarah perked up at being spoken to directly. Cam was well aware she harbored a crush on him, but he made a point of never encouraging it. “I just wondered, or rather the boss wondered, well… did you like the food?” The last bit came out as a rush.

  “Look at all the people around you,” Cam said, waving his rag to show the crowd who all seemed very happy snatching up the remains of the huge lunch Fergus had sent over. “Not an unhappy face in the lot. You can tell your boss I’m very pleased.”

  “He’ll be pleased you’re pleased.” Sarah hopped on one foot to the other. “It’s just… what about you? Did you have anything to eat from what the boss sent over?”

  What the hell? Cam’s spidey senses went into overdrive and his concern about the mysterious Fergus increased. “No,” he snapped, far harsher than intended. “I don’t eat cakes and sweets and I had a big breakfast before I started today. But if all your boss is interested in, is getting compliments from me, then he can forget it. I’m not the type to hold someone’s hand and tell them how good they are at what they do. I just expect them to get on with it. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” because Sarah seemed close to tears, “I have work to do.” He strode out of the bar, heading for his office. He’d behaved like an asshole, and he’d find a way to make it up to Sarah later, but for now he had some calls to make. If the self-proclaimed Fabulous Fergus was up to no good, he’d know about it before nightfall.

  /~/~/~/~/

  “Aww, sweetie, come here.” Fergus folded the weeping Sarah into his arms, patting her hair and crooning softly. His three young staff had come back with empty platters full of the praises everyone gave for the food. Only Sarah seemed upset, and Fergus was quick to send the other two home with a wad of cash each, so he could talk to Sarah in private. “It’s okay. You tell the best boss in the world who upset you and I’ll go and stuff his face with lamingtons and then stomp on them.”

  “Lamingtons? What’s that?” Just as he intended, Sarah was diverted from whoever upset her.

  “A rather delicious sponge cake actually,” Fergus said very seriously, “covered in either a chocolate or strawberry sauce and then it’s covered in coconut which is honestly quite yummy. They’re made in Australia and New Zealand.”

  “Well, they’d be wasted on Cam.” Sarah sniffed and swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “I didn’t do anything bad. I only asked him if he liked the food and he said everyone there were all happy with it.”

  “I can tell they enjoyed it all,” Fergus eyed the empty trays and pans littering his counter top. “I’m not sure there was a crumb left of anything. So come on, if this Cam person was so happy with the catering, then what did he say to upset you?”

  Sarah’s face went bright red. “I might have got a teensy bit pushy,” she admitted holding up her fingers to show a tiny amount. “It’s just, I thought you might have liked him, and then I thought well if I could come back and tell you how much he loved your cooking, then maybe you would go and meet him and it would be so romantic.”

  Fergus forced a smile on his face, even though his heart plummeted. “And I take it, instead of your dreams of a happy ever after, he told you he hated the food and wouldn’t date me on a bet, am I right?”

  “I never said anything about dating,” Sarah protested. Then she slumped. “He said he doesn’t eat cakes and sweet things, and that he’d had a big breakfast. I mean, how ridiculous is that, not eating cakes or sweets.”

  “Maybe he has a sugar allergy we don’t know about snookums.” Inside, Fergus was trying to work out why the staunch bar owner wouldn’t eat his food. Did he think it was poisoned or something?

  “If he had a sugar allergy, he couldn’t have alcohol either,” Sarah said hotly. “And he was drinking at lunch time!”

  “A lot of people do, sweetness.” Fergus wasn’t sure what to make of Cam’s notions either, but then he didn’t know the man, so he wasn’t sure it mattered. “The thing is, whatever he said, it doesn’t matter.” He gripped Sarah’s shoulders loosely and smiled. “Remember, we are fabulous, amazing, and spread happiness and cheer wherever we go, right?”

  “That’s why you employed me.” Sarah stood up straighter. “Because I’m Sensational Sarah.”


  “So, we’ll forget about the grouchy bar owner, and you’ll trot yourself out to the cabinet and help yourself to a raspberry éclair. I need to know if they have the right balance of sweet and tart. Can you do that for me?”

  “It’s why you hired me.” Sarah skipped out of the kitchen, and then she leaned her head back around the door frame. “You really are the best boss; did you know that?”

  “But of course, although I thank you for telling me. Now get along.” Fergus made shooing motions with his hands; his smile fixed in place until he knew Sarah was distracted in the front of the shop. Tipping a large amount of dough out of a steel bowl, Fergus lightly coated the counter top with flour and started to punch the air out of the proven lump.

  Damn man, upsetting Sarah like that. Thump. Thump. There’s no need for anyone to be so hurtful. Thump. Thump. Thump. I’ve a good mind to… no. no. no. Fergus refused to let himself get angry. If anything, he reminded himself, he should feel sorry for Cam who clearly had never appreciated how happy a perfectly baked pastry or cake could make someone feel.

  He probably has issues, issues we know nothing about, Fergus thought, as he continued to work the dough under his hands. Remember, if a person makes you feel bad, it’s not usually got anything to do with what you did at all. Yes.

  Fergus was decided. He would put Cam’s nasty tone to Sarah out of his head. From all accounts, Cam was well liked in town and had stuck up for smaller shifters more than once. He’s not a bully, he’s just having a bad day. And if Fergus’s hot dreams of being taken by the man with the wonderful voice deflated along with his dough, then Fergus would live with that too. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d been disappointed.

  Chapter Three

  “Nothing.” Cam glared at the piles of paper on his desk, then up at his computer screen. “Absolutely fucking nothing.” Which wasn’t strictly true but might well have been as far as Cam was concerned. He was looking for dirt. What he’d found was a swathe of useless information on Fabulous Fergus, from the make and registration of his car – a 1997 Jeep Cherokee four door sport, 4WD, in black - down to his graduation picture when Fergus completed his studies at the John Lawrence School of Bakery in 1999. Cam found awards in Fergus’s name for sports and bakery; he’d scrolled through pictures of the man’s family and siblings, although there was nothing of Fergus with his family after he turned eighteen. The man covered his social media accounts with snapshots of delicious foods and ‘be happy’ pictures, but of his actual life there was nothing.

  No relationships. No messy breakups. No brushes with the law. Not even a speeding ticket. Extensive searches through police databases, shifter and human, had come up with nothing. Cam had made the calls he’d promised himself, and so far, nothing had come back from them either. Cam’s teeth were grinding against each other, he was so antsy. It’s not possible for a man to be so squeaky clean.

  The phone rang. Cam glanced at it and seeing it was a withheld number, picked it up. Withheld usually meant a call from his type of people. “What have you got for me?”

  “A little bird told me you’re looking for someone, you naughty, naughty boy. Why didn’t you call me?”

  Cam cringed as he recognized the voice. “Austin, I thought I told you to lose my number.”

  “Aww, now why would I do that, when we make such a perfect team. I pay you money and you kill people for me.”

  “Not anymore I don’t, and I haven’t done for fucking years. I told you the last time was the final one, but it seems you’re too stupid to remember our agreement.”

  “Now, don’t be like that.” Austin’s laugh was like claws on a chalkboard – grating against every one of Cam’s nerves. “I need you to do a job for me, and in return I have a file on a Mr. Fergus Franklin Ferdinand. I can even give you his most current address.”

  Cam bit back his response. He already had Fergus’s address. The man lived two blocks away from where he did, although Austin had no way of knowing that.

  “I have to say,” Cam could hear the sound of Austin flicking through papers, “I can’t for the life of me think why you want to hunt down this individual. The man is so clean he squeaks. My gods, did you see all those affirmation platitudes he posts on social media? What on earth would a do-gooder baker like Mr. Ferdinand be doing to attract your attention?”

  “It’s none of your business, is it?” Cam snarled across the phone lines. “I told you to stop calling me.”

  “Why would I stop calling, when you’re the only one who can meet my needs.” The last word was purred, and Cam felt his stomach churn. He knew exactly what needs Austin was talking about, and they were definitely not of the pleasurable variety. “It’s only this one last job,” Austin said happily. “Just one more, and I’ll forget you ever existed, and you can have this file as a bonus.”

  “You gave me your word you’d lose my number after the last fiasco you sent me into.” Cam was ready to throw his phone against the wall. “Now, fuck off. I’ve got work to do.”

  “Hmm, so I see. Tracking down the squeaky-clean Mr. Ferdinand. Such a curious person for you to waste your precious time and energies on. I can’t help but be curious myself. So, are you going to tell me what Mr. Do-gooder did to pique your interest?” Austin’s gasp was theatrically faked. “I know. I’ll ask him myself, shall I? It’s not a problem to send one of my men to the hick town he’s living in and encourage him to come back here. Who knows, I might even ask him to bake me a cake, he could bring it along with him. Won’t that be nice? Tea and cake, and we can sit and chat about you.”

  “You leave him alone! He’s got nothing to do with you or me!”

  “Oh, but I think he must have something special to become the focus of your little investigation. No one puts in requests to the military and alphabet agencies for information about a nobody, now do they? Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of that little problem for you, and then you can take care of one for me. I’ll be in touch when I’ve got results to share. Bye.”

  “NO!” Cam roared but it was too late. The ‘call ended’ sign flashed up on the screen before it went dark. Dropping his phone on the desk, Cam tugged at his non-existent hair. Fuck, what the hell have I done? What if I was wrong? What if there genuinely isn’t anything remotely suspicious about Fergus? What if he is who he presents himself to be? A sweet helpful, nice guy who makes delicious cakes for a living. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the hell am I going to do now?

  Austin wasn’t anyone to muck around with. Cam worked with him for years before realizing what an absolute shit the man could be to those who showed him loyalty. Known among underground sources as the Reckless Rhino who relished using shifters for their sharper physical attributes, Austin had an entitlement complex a mile wide and the authority to make most men quake in their boots.

  The agency Austin ran was so deep undercover, no one could ever touch the man, but his lack of compassion for the suffering of anyone, human or shifter, was only revealed to Cam when the mission he was on with three others went to shit. No back up. No resources, at least that’s what he was told at the time, and when Cam tried to fight for the friends he’d lost, he was told he was suffering from fatigue and ordered to rest.

  He never went back. Cam used his leave time to work out his release from the military, and when Austin called him six months later for another job, he took great pleasure in telling the man where he could shove it. Cam believed at the time, he and Austin had an agreement. He would drop the matter of getting compensation for the lost men’s family from the government, if Austin forgot he existed. It was a simple matter for Cam to help out the families himself through anonymous direct payments.

  But Austin never forgot, keeping in touch at least once a year, dangling another job and even higher pay rates that Cam found easy to ignore. He was a petty nuisance, an annoyance, and as Cam was confident Austin had no idea where he was, he’d gotten comfortable. And now look where it’s gotten me. Fuck, poor Fergus.

  Cam only dithered for a s
econd. He had first-hand knowledge about what happened to people who went for “a chat” with Austin. They were never heard from again, or worse they were found so badly injured they couldn’t remember their own name. Shifters, humans, any type of paranormal, Austin didn’t care. Insults bounced off his inch-thick skin, and he still plowed ahead, getting what he wanted anyway.

  I could do the job for him. But Cam was already shaking his head. If he let Austin get his way once, the man would never stop and Cam’s life, as he had it now, would be over. As soon as Austin thought he had a hold over Cam, no matter what it was, he’d exploit it and use it until Cam was dead.

  And Cam wasn’t about to let that happen. Now all he had to do was protect Fergus, the young baker he’d never met, but who he knew everything about, without letting the man know the dire situation Cam’s brainless actions had gotten him into.

  Chapter Four

  Fergus trudged up the pathway to his new home, his feet aching and his back sore. It was already dark, but after the catering job he’d done for the pub, Fergus knew his best way of getting any rest at all was to make sure the cabinets were filled for the Saturday morning crowd and then take the weekend off for himself. The Sensational Sarah was going to handle the till along with her brother Terrific Tommy. After his little pep talk, Sarah was determined to show she could handle the place herself, and as the shop was only open for four hours on a Saturday and Mrs. Hooper was right next door, Fergus trust she could do it.

  Thumping up his porch steps, Fergus sighed. He’d been at work the best part of twenty hours and all he wanted was a hot shower, a cold drink, and the chance to put his feet up. Netflix was calling his name, and Fergus wasn’t going to let anything interrupt his binge watching of Sugar Rush. “Home sweet home,” he sang quietly, conscious of his neighbors. “Now, where did I put my keys?”

  As he patted his pockets, the hair on the back of Fergus’s neck stood up. There were footsteps coming his way. Grabbing his keys, he made sure his house and Jeep key were pointed outwards from his fingers, as he turned. There were no street lights in the residential block. No shifter ever needed them, and besides Fergus had been assured Arrowtown was a safe place to live.