Cameron eyed his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t look like a criminal. Because he wasn’t. He didn’t look like a choirboy. Because he was a far cry from that as well.
What he was, exactly, he hadn’t a clue. But working side-by-side with Hope this morning, then being in her home—even if it wasn’t quite her home yet, and despite the mice—made him feel like a man again.
Picking up his shaving cream, he squirted a foam ball in his palm and spread it across his face. The razor sliced through the cream and his whiskers making a satisfying sound. Like he was a free man getting ready to see a beautiful woman.
Which he was. Only he wasn’t. He may be free from the literal bars trapping him into a cold cell, but he felt the figurative bars separating him and Hope. She still viewed him as an inmate. As someone who purposely committed a crime.
Melancholy filled the cave in his chest again and he rushed the rest of his shave, nicking himself twice. Cameron watched in the mirror as the shaving cream turned pink. Dipping his head to the sink, he splashed cool water on his face, rubbing his hand across his cheeks. When he lifted his eyes to the mirror, he saw the deep gash.
“Stupid,” he muttered to himself. He tore off a piece of toilet paper and pressed it against his chin. The paper quickly turned a deep red. Even if he had a band-aid he wouldn’t stick one on his chin. Still pressing the toilet paper with his fingers, he went to the living space and picked out a pair of clean boxers and jeans from his laundry basket with his free hand. Figuring his chin would just have to bleed itself out, he hopped into his clothes and rummaged through the basket for a clean Henley.
Once dressed, he sat down on his sleeping bag and pulled on his socks, stopping to look around. While he never would say he was proud of his tiny apartment, it hadn’t bothered him until lately. It was embarrassing, sleeping on the floor, no furniture in sight.
The only reason Hope’s house mirrored his emptiness was because she still had work to do. Cameron, on the other hand, had been content in what he wouldn’t even consider calling a bachelor pad.
Proving a point that he didn’t need money and wealth to make him happy, didn’t mean he needed to live like a bum. He rolled up his sleeping bag and tossed it in the corner. Money was tight, but he was smart. He’d been stashing away fifty percent of his income for Delaney’s future, but he needed to take care of himself as well.
After he fixed Hope’s wiring, he’d find the nearest shopping area and buy himself a few more clothes. And maybe even a couch.
Not finding anything in his cabinets, he grabbed his coat and keys and headed out to his truck. He went through the drive-thru ordering two coffees, one with cream and sugar on the side, and a bag of assorted muffins.
Hope’s car was already in her driveway when he got to her house. It looked different in the daylight. More inviting. It could be because he was actually invited this time. No, actually, he’d forced himself back to her house. And didn’t regret it.
Cameron rounded the hood of his truck and opened the passenger door. He picked up his tool belt off the floor and tied it around his waist, then grabbed the food. By the time he got to the front steps Hope was already standing there, holding the door open for him.
“I brought breakfast,” he said, holding up the bag of muffins. “And coffee.”
“You didn’t have to do that. Thanks, though.”
Hope stepped aside as he walked through the door, the smell of citrus tickling his nose as he brushed past her.
Cameron waited for her to close the door and followed her at a respectful distance to the kitchen. He set down the muffins and coffee on the counter and gestured to her. “Dig in. I didn’t know how you took your coffee. There are creamers and different types of sugars in the bag.”
Hope nibbled on her bottom lip, and something stirred in his jeans. He shifted his feet and watched as she peeked in the bag.
“You’re pure evil.” She dug out a muffin and peeled back the wrapper. “Pumpkin pecan are my favorite and they go right to my ass.”
It was like yelling out, “Don’t look behind you!” and expecting the person not to look. You had to. It was a knee-jerk reaction. And that’s why his eyes fell to her waist and his head tilted to the side so he could check out her ass.
“Eyesupere,” she said around a mouthful of muffin.
Cameron lifted his shoulders to his ears and held up his palms in defense. “I, uh. You said ass and I...I’m a guy so I...” He cringed and pulled at the loose collar around his neck. “I’m gonna check on those wires.”
It didn’t take him long to assess the damage. The leaky toilet upstairs could have been worse. The wires looked in decent shape, even with the leak, but he wanted to make sure the house would be safe.
They gave each other space and didn’t say much other than the occasional check-in. The radio filled the void, and he could hear Hope singing along in the other room to Bon Jovi and Bruce Springsteen. Like he needed another reason to like her.
Three hours later he had the toilet leak fixed, the linoleum torn up, and the wiring secure. Cameron brushed his hands against his thighs as he jogged down the stairs. Hope cleaned the kitchen when he was in the bathroom, and she cleaned the downstairs bathroom when he worked in the kitchen.
He found her sitting cross-legged on the floor in the kitchen, a roll of paper towels and a bottle of cleaner in her hand.
“I’m going to flip the switches to the kitchen. Can you let me know if something doesn’t turn on?” Damn. He shifted again. If only he wasn’t so turned on. Being around Hope did that to him.
“Sure.” She set her cleaning supplies down, and Cameron offered his hand to help her up. She took it, and he swore someone was downstairs flipping on the circuit breaker. The sudden bolts of electricity that surged through his body nearly had him on his knees.
As soon as Hope got to her feet she gasped, dropping his hand like it burned, and wiped her palm against her thigh. She clasped her hands behind her and stepped back into the counter. Her hazel eyes big and round in shock.
She felt it too. And now wasn’t the time to call her on it.
Without saying a word, he rushed down the basement stairs. Once he gained his composure, he flicked on the switches and waited for Hope’s A-okay. Taking another minute to steady his heart, he scrubbed his hands across his face and gazed out the window.
The field dropped off in the back, surrounded by woods on all sides. It was a peaceful setting at the end of the dirt road. A home meant for a family. Meant for Hope and Delaney.
Cameron never had dreams of having his own home. Of building a family. Surviving was all he cared about. All he’d hoped for.
But now, with Hope’s stunning, wide smile and the memories of what once were, of what could possibly be, his goals shifted slightly.
Hell, they tilted his center upside down.
Once he felt he had his equilibrium steady, he went back upstairs to face his newest dilemma. One thing was for sure, he wouldn’t pursue Hope. She had to be the one to call the shots. Cameron opened the door and stepped into the kitchen.
“You need to leave.” Hope had her coat zipped, a knit hat pulled over her head, and her keys in hand.
Shot called. Cameron nodded and did a quick inspection of the kitchen. She’d cleaned up after him already, wiping down the counters and sweeping the floor of the debris that fell from the ceiling.
“If the toilet runs again or the electricity flickers, you’ll let me know, right?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll take care of the damage I did to your bathroom floor. I recommend tile instead of linoleum. It’s not that expensive if you do it yourself. I mean. I’ll take care of the installation.”
“It’s not your fault the floor got ruined. Besides, I called my landlord this morning. He’ll cover the cost, so I’m not worried. I’m sure between Wade and Ty it will get done.”
Yeah. He forgot about her boyfriend. Or friend that was a guy. Cameron didn’t quite have the rea
d on their relationship. If there was something romantic going on between the two of them, Connie wouldn’t have been so obvious or encouraging last night.
“The floor could have been saved. I was a bit excessive.”
“Do we really need to argue about this right now? I need to get to work.”
“Right. Sorry.” He’d forgotten about that. “After you.” He made a grand sweeping gesture with his hand and paused while Hope hesitantly treaded past him.
When they reached the front steps, he waited for her to lock up the house and climb into her car.
“If you have time this week to pick out tile or whatever for the floor, I’ll install it for you.”
Hope nodded and closed her car door. Not wanting to look like a fool for much longer, he jogged to his truck and backed out of her driveway.
The spark had been ignited, and he’d be damn sure nothing would put it out.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HOPE DIDN’T THINK SHE’D get through her shift after leaving Cameron in her driveway. There were brief moments when his beautiful, kind eyes had looked at her the same way Justin’s had. They’d only had one memorable date. It was the day she fell in love with Justin. His laugh, his teasing, his grin. Their day in New York City had been one of the best days of her life.
It had only been that one day when she saw the lighter side of Justin, and today she saw those same features in Cameron. She wasn’t sure how she felt about seeing them. Especially when he stood in her house looking so... Just so.
Sighing as she pushed open the back door to the restaurant, she washed her hands and tied on her apron. Thankfully, the restaurant filled up quickly for lunch and never lulled until closing time, which helped keep her mind off Cameron.
The Fall Festival had been a huge success, right up until the very end of the weekend.
The following day was her day off, and she spent it doing a final scrub down of the house, even bringing over a few carloads of boxes. Nothing she and Delaney would need anytime soon. Summer clothes, beach chairs, a few kitchen items she’d purchased over the years.
The rest of the week went by quickly as well, even Halloween night. Delaney deemed herself too old to trick-or-treat and opted to stay home and pass out candy. Living in a rural area in Maine, there weren’t too many neighborhoods to go around to anyway. Most families drove their children from house to house, just like Hope had done for ten years.
Now, with November here, she needed to plan Delaney’s twelfth birthday, which would be here in less than two weeks. First, however, she had her much anticipated book night.
The first Thursday of the month was sacred. No matter how busy work was, Hope made an effort to be there. Sometimes she had to come straight from the restaurant, smelling like fried food, but she made it nonetheless.
Tonight was one of those nights. Still in her jeans and long-sleeved dark green work shirt with The Happy Clam emblem over the chest, she closed her car door with her hip, juggling the two bags of takeout in one hand, and her book and purse in the other.
Celeste held the door open to Books by the Ocean and ushered Hope in.
“Oh, that smells delicious. I wish I could stay for tonight’s discussion, but I’ve been taking advantage of being single all week. The boys will be home tomorrow, and I haven’t done a blessed thing since they left.”
“We’ll miss you.” Hope set the bags down and kissed her cheek. “I’ll make sure we’ve cleaned the place and its locked up tight.”
“Bye, Mom.” Mia hugged her mother quickly then grabbed for the bags of food.
“You girls behave yourselves.” Celeste waved and scooted out the door.
“Please tell me you brought chicken fingers.” Mia rummaged through the bag and pulled out a white container. She was little and petite, but holy heck her friend was a spitfire. Hope didn’t know what she would do without Mia on her staff.
“Don’t you get sick of eating there?” Jenna asked as she swiped a chicken finger from Mia’s clutches. Jenna wore her usual leggings—tonight’s were a kaleidoscope of colors—and a flowing purple top. As the artist of the group, she always brought color, light, and introspective to the book talks.
“Sorry I’m late,” Alexis called as she came through the door. She carried a bottle of wine in each hand and wove her way through the low book racks to the back of the store where the girls sat in a cluster of comfy chairs and an overstuffed sofa.
“Is it windy out?” Mia asked, her mouth full of chicken.
“No, why?” Alexis handed Lily the bottle of Lobster Red.
“Must’ve been getting laid. I know if I was married to a sexy Italian like Ben, I’d never get out of bed.”
“Mia!” Lily, the only one of them with impeccable manners, chastised. She was the perfect owner for the Sea Salt Spa. Blonde and gorgeous in her simple ways. She didn’t need to cake on the makeup or wear designer clothes to look stunning. Heck, the woman could wear a burlap sack and make it look like she came off a runway.
Lily hadn’t been in town long, a year at most, and the book group were her closest friends, yet none of them knew much about her past.
Granted, none knew the details of Hope’s past either.
“That’s okay,” Alexis laughed. It was a nice sound.
Like Hope, Alexis grew up in town yet they traveled in different circles, not having much in common until this past spring. Her husband worked his nice looking buns off bringing the town together, and they pulled off their best summer tourist season and their first Fall Festival.
And friendships were made.
“I actually was in bed with Ben. And Sophie. We were playing.” Alexis’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. Motherhood looked good on her.
“Blech.” Mia took the bottle of white and the wine opener from Alexis. “Thank god you’re on driving patrol tonight. I’m going to drink this bottle all by myself if I have to listen to lovey-dovey crap all night.”
As the wild one of the group, Mia kept them in stitches with her nefarious dating stories. Lily was the one they went to for fashion or beauty advice. Since Hope had a knack for penny-pinching, they hit her up for business and finance tips, while Jenna was the unofficial book group facilitator, always trying to instill a touch of knowledge into their lives. And, of course, Alexis was the booze lady. Owning a winery in town had its advantages.
Though they rotated roles each month: one would bring the drinks, another the food, and one was in charge of being the DD, if needed.
“I’ll give you a few more minutes to pour your wine and get your snacks and then we’ll begin.” Jenna snatched Mia’s full glass of wine and settled into the cushions.
“Hey!” Not missing a beat, Mia picked up another glass and this time offered it to Hope.
“Thanks.” She took the glass and mirrored Jenna by toeing off her sneakers and sinking into the cushions on the opposite end of the couch.
“Does anyone else want red?” Lily asked, holding up a glass.
“I’ll have the red.” Alexis took the wine and nestled into the burgundy chair across from Jenna.
They waited for Lily and Mia to get situated, sipping their wine and picking at the French Fries and chicken fingers.
“Before we start, I’d like to make a toast.” Alexis held up her glass and waited for the others to follow suit. “To a kick ass Fall Festival. I heard so many people rave over Jenna’s artwork, and Lily said she sold a ton of gift certificates for spa services. Mia and Hope, folks talked about the awesome food and service at the restaurant. Mom and Dad said the parking lot was packed all weekend.”
“Cheers,” they all said in unison.
Jenna reached for her book on the coffee table but Mia was too fast, snagging it away. “Before we jump into the book, we need to discuss an important matter involving one of our own.”
The wine and chicken in Hope’s belly played a brutal game of tug-of-war. She knew where this was going. Mia had dropped not-so subtle hints about the sexy guy working at CC’s
Boatyard all week. And every time she asked if Hope had seen him yet, Hope played nonchalant.
“Is everything okay?” Lily clutched her chest, her gaze flickering from one friend to the next.
Alexis and Jenna did the same while Hope continued to glare at Mia, who avoided eye contact.
“Mia’s obsessed with rumors and gossip. I say we act like big girls and talk about the ending to—”
“I promise you, he is not a rumor.”
“He?” Jenna twirled her wine glass between her fingers. “You finding another guy to date does not trump book discussion.”
“It’s not about me.”
“Mia,” Hope warned, realizing too late she’d given herself away.
“Hope?” Lily spun her body around, her eyes wide and concerned. “Is it Ty?”
If it could only be that easy. “Ty and I are friends.”
Lily’s shoulders relaxed and she shifted uneasily in her seat. Hope had suspicions for some time that Lily had a thing for Ty. They’d make an adorable couple. Maybe setting them up would take some of the pressure off her.
“However, you and Ty would be great together, don’t you think?” Hope sipped her wine, hoping her ploy to turn the attention on Lily would work.
“I want no part of any discussion that will in some manner lead to my brother’s sex life.” Mia pointed a chicken finger at Lily.
“I’m not having sex with Ty,” Lily gasped.
Hope grinned into her glass, the pressure from her belly settling.
“You two really would be gorgeous together.” Jenna tapped her fingers on her glass.
“Have any of you seen the hot guy working down at the boatyard?” Mia scooped up a glob of ketchup with her fry and chomped down on it.
“Priscilla came in to the spa one day last week all worked up wanting to read my aura. Apparently she thought I’d be a good match for a new guy in town. She didn’t say, but since she hasn’t been back in trying to set me up, I’d guess he’s not for me. Could be the same one?”
Where There's Hope_A Well Paired Novel Page 8
