“This is a restaurant,” she hedged.
“You’re about to close.”
Marty dinged the bell in the kitchen, signaling her order was up.
“I’ll be right back. Why don’t you sit at the bar?”
Hope rushed to the kitchen not waiting to see what Cameron would do. When she came back out, she caught sight of him at the barstool as she passed by him with a tray of food.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asked as she set the plate of salmon in front of the woman and the burger in front of the man.
“I’ll have another glass of wine.”
Hope refilled the two water glasses from the nearby water pitcher and went over to the bar where Cameron sat patiently watching her. She got the wine out of the fridge and poured a glass.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“You don’t have to wait for me.”
“It’s kind of my job. You see, people sit in those stools and ask me to get them stuff. And then they leave me money.”
Cameron laughed and she took off before she did something stupid, like tell him how ridiculously charming he was.
He was still there when she came back. If she sat next to him, it would look like she was interested in talking to him—being with him. If she went behind the bar, she could pretend to work, and she’d have something to do to keep herself busy.
Hope went behind the bar and looked around, realizing she’d already cleaned up back there. Feeling his eyes on her, she looked up and did that customer service smile again. “Can I get you something to eat?”
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
She was tempted to ask him why he came in to the restaurant then, but she was afraid of his answer.
“How about some chowder? You’d be doing the cooks a favor. Less to put away.”
“When you put it that way.” Cameron shrugged.
“I’ll be right back.” Hope rolled her eyes on her way to the kitchen. Gah, she hated how lame she sounded. They were dancing around like middle school kids coming up with stupid things to say.
“Hey, Marty. I’m going to flip the sign out front. You can close up. I’ll take two bowls of chowder off your hands first.”
Marty was a workhorse, putting in nearly as many hours as Hope every week. She couldn’t remember the last time he took a day off or asked to use any of his vacation days. A widower with full-grown sons who lived six hours away, the restaurant was his life. Hope depended and appreciated him more than he realized.
“Will do, boss lady.” Marty saluted her and got to work cleaning the grill.
Hope ladled two bowls of chowder and stuffed two packages of oyster crackers in the pocket of her apron. She set the bowls on a tray she balanced with one hand, and using her hip, pushed the swinging doors open.
“I’m not saying this because I’m biased,” she said, serving Cameron his bowl, then placing hers next to him. “But The Happy Clam makes the best clam chowder in Maine. And that’s saying a lot.”
“It smells awesome.”
She pulled the packages of crackers from her apron and rounded the bar to sit next to Cameron.
“Wow. This is good.” He didn’t come up for air until his bowl was empty, his spoon scraping along the bottom for last drops.
“There’s more out back. I knew you were hungry.” Hope stood, and he placed his hand on hers.
“I ate before I came. I’m not really hungry, it’s just really good.”
Her skin warmed where he touched, and that tingling thing that happened at her house started up again.
Slowly, she pulled her hand away. “I can get you another bowl,” she whispered.
Cameron shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m really not hungry.”
“Oh.” She chewed at her lip and cleared the bowls, putting them on the tray. Hope couldn’t make eye contact and was afraid to ask, but for some reason wanted to hear it from Cameron. Swallowing and mustering up courage, she asked what she really wanted to know. “So why did you come here?”
Cameron’s lip did that twitchy thing again, and she nearly wobbled over.
“To see you.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THERE WAS NO HOLDING back now. Go big or go home. Only, he didn’t have a home to go to. A shitty apartment at best.
“To see you,” he told her. Because that was the God’s honest truth. He stayed away for a week, giving himself time to settle, to see if what he was feeling for Hope was just lust or trying to bring back something between them from so long ago.
Something she didn’t know existed. He wanted to keep it from her longer yet rush to tell her right away. The longer he held back, the worse it would be when she found out.
Not that she would. That she could. He was the only who knew. And Justin. But Justin was dead.
Hell. He needed to tell her.
Hope chewed on her lip again, and his gaze immediately dropped to her mouth. She gasped and sat back down again, her knees bumping into his.
“There’s something you need to know.”
“Excuse me?” The elderly couple had crept up on them, their coats already on their arms. “We want to make the ten o’clock movie in Rockland. Can you get us our check?” the man asked.
“Oh. Of course.” Hope hopped to her feet again and rushed over to the register behind the bar. She tapped a few buttons and tore off a receipt. “I’m so sorry for ignoring you. Do you need a box?”
“We ate every last crumb.” The woman put a hand over her belly. “It was delicious.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Hope took the credit card the man held out to her, and she swiped it through the register.
Cameron sipped at his ice water and waited while Hope took care of her customers. She followed them to the door and drew the deadbolt behind them, flipping the sign to Closed.
When she turned around, she eyed Cameron then the door behind her. “I...you can go if you want. I didn’t mean to lock you in.”
He smiled and leaned back, resting his elbows on the counter. “I don’t mind.”
“Oh. Okay.” She walked toward him hesitantly and ran her finger along the edge of the tray. “I’m going to...bring the dishes back to get washed.”
“Do you mind if I stay?”
Hope shrugged. “I guess. If that’s what you want.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I asked you first.”
Cameron grinned. “Yeah. I want to stay.”
Nodding, she picked up the tray and disappeared through the swinging door to the kitchen. He waited for what felt like hours but had only been a few minutes until she returned.
“Marty left.”
“Marty?”
“My cook. We were slow. Everyone’s gone. I guess we can go now too.”
They stared at each other in awkward silence, Cameron still straddling his stool and Hope picking at the bottom of her apron as she stood a few feet from him.
“Unless.” She looked away and moved behind the bar. “Do you want a cup of coffee or hot chocolate or something?”
“I’ve always had a sweet tooth.” He wondered if she’d remember that.
Hope nodded and filled a pot with water, pouring it into the coffee machine. She opened two packages of cocoa mix. “In the winter we make it in a pot on the stove out back. I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for the mixed stuff tonight.”
“I’m not picky.”
When steam escaped from the sides and the clear water stopped dripping into the pot, she filled the two mugs and stirred them gently.
“Whipped cream?” She reached below to what he presumed to be a fridge and took out a can.
“Please.”
He could see the nervousness in her hands even as she shook the can and sprayed the whipped cream into his mug.
“Want a squirt?” She pointed the tip of the can at him and then blushed. “Sorry. I’m used to squirting it in Delaney’s mouth.”
She didn’t have a good angle on the can whe
n she sprayed into her mug and the cream spattered all over his shirt, leaving white dripping dots all over his front. Cameron stood and wiped at his chest.
“Crap. Sorry.” Hope set the can down and tossed a handful of paper napkins at him.
He wiped his shirt and took the can from her and shook it. “Do you want a squirt?”
“Nu-uh. I can see payback all over your face. Give that back to me.” Hope reached across the bar top, but he was too quick.
She landed on her chest, practically laying on the counter, and too many inappropriate thoughts about what to do with and where to spray the whipped cream crossed his mind.
“Fair is fair.” He liked these games, the taunting, the teasing glint in Hope’s smile. He also liked how the light cast little dots of brightness in her chocolate eyes. Shaking the can again, he rounded the bar, stalking her as she backed into a corner. He had her trapped, but she didn’t appear afraid.
“Stop.” Hope held out a hand. “You’re not allowed back here.”
“Oh yeah?” He took another step toward her. Only one stride separated them now. “Are you gonna tell the boss lady on me?”
She twitched her mouth to the side, unsuccessfully hiding her smile. “Something like that.”
Cameron lowered his eyelids, squinting and calculating his next move. With one final shake of the can, he reached it out toward her and quickly brought it back to his mouth, filling it up with whipped cream.
The white foam toppled over the side, dripping down his chin. He swallowed and licked his lips, tasting the sweet cream.
“It’s good. Sure you don’t want some?”
“I’m sure.” She laughed. “Set the can down and go back to your side of the bar.”
He did and as soon as he stepped away she swiped the can and chucked it in the fridge. Cameron snorted as he sat. “Feel better now?”
“Much.” Hope picked up her mug and sipped.
“You’ve been on your feet all day. Why don’t you have a seat?”
She bit her lower lip and slowly nodded. When she’d settled in next to him, Cameron picked up his mug and followed her lead, sipping the warm chocolate. Memories from the past flooded his mind.
It was now or never. If anything would transpire between them, she needed to know. As did he.
Cameron set the mug down and turned in his stool so his knees brushed against her left thigh.
“Tell me about you and Justin.”
Hope coughed and sputtered. “Justin? You want me to tell you about your brother?”
“Yeah. How you met. How long you dated. Stuff you did together. That kind of thing.”
She spun to her left so they faced each other. “Seriously?” Cameron nodded. “This is awkward.”
Patience hadn’t been his strong suit in the first twenty-three years of his life, but for the past thirteen, it was all he had. He waited while Hope looked at him, her eyes squinty, her lip turned up in confusion. When her facial features relaxed, she turned again and rested her elbows on the bar.
“I was waitressing at a pizza place. It was Martin Luther King Day. Lots of people had it off, so we were busy. Your brother came in with some friends. He gave me his number.” She shrugged it off as a casual affair, but the tension in her jaw told him otherwise.
He knew it wasn’t that simple. Justin didn’t give his number to girls. They pestered him. He’d always needed to be in control.
“So you called him?” Cameron tested her.
Hope leaned forward on the bar and wrapped her hands around her mug. “Not exactly,” she sighed. “He came back on Friday and asked me out for the following night.”
“And it was love at first sight?” he hedged.
“No. Not exactly. I was definitely taken in by him. Justin was...” She peeked over her left shoulder at Cameron and dragged her gaze up and down his torso, landing on his face. “Good looking.”
They’d tried to use their identical twin powers on girls in high school, but their personalities were too different and the girls in their private school could tell them apart as soon as one of them spoke.
Justin with his charm and polish and Cameron with his attitude and rashness. He hadn’t tried very hard to swap roles back then. The girls in their blazers and unflattering skirts did nothing for him. Justin, however, called on Cameron to help him be two places at once. Or rather, fool the girls he was dating.
So when he called Cameron to take a freshman college girl out for Valentine’s Day while Justin had a sex fest with an older woman, Cameron hadn’t given it a second thought.
He was going through a dry spell and could use a distraction. But, hell, when he called her to make arrangements, her honey-sweet voice and carefree laughter had shot straight to his crotch.
“Did you love him?” He needed to know.
Hope shot him a glare. “That’s personal.”
“Run through your relationship with my brother. I’m curious...about Delaney.”
“You mean you want to know about our sex life?” she scoffed.
“No. I really don’t.” Cameron rubbed his eyes and rested his chin in his palm. “Just out of curiosity.” She shot him the death glare. “When did you fall for him? Was it on your first date? Was it love at first sight?”
“That’s a lot of questions.” Hope slid her finger around the rim of her mug. “I liked him at first sight. And then...” Her finger stopped and she slipped her hands into her lap. “We had a nice first date. After that.” She shrugged, and he waited her out.
Cameron wanted to tell her what an asshole Justin was, but that wouldn’t help his cause any. She needed to come to terms on her own. And maybe she wouldn’t. He didn’t know how much Justin had said to her, lied to her. Done to her.
“After our first date, we met up at a few parties. I figured he’d lost interest in me. I mean, I was a freshman and he was a grad student. I didn’t have much to offer him.” A sad, faraway look veiled her eyes.
If Justin were alive, Cameron would’ve grabbed him by his Brooks Brothers tie and strangled him for hurting Hope.
“But then.” Hope tilted her head and smiled, her gaze on the wall behind the bar. “Then we went to New York. And everything changed.”
“What changed?” Cameron tilted toward her but gave her space as he studied her face. The veil lifted and a faint dusting of hope sparkled in her eyes. His heart raced in anticipation of what she’d say next.
“Us.”
“How?” he whispered.
“I saw a side of Justin I hadn’t seen before. He brought me away to New York for Valentine’s Day.” She clasped her hands together and rested her chin on her fists. “When it was just the two of us, away from school and friends and the parties, it was like...it was real.”
Cameron closed his eyes and bit back a moan. So she’d felt it too. He resisted the urge to touch her, to jump for joy, to scream from the rooftop. To take her in his arms and cover her gorgeous mouth with his.
Clearing his throat and attempting to hide his joy, he attempted to sound casual. “He died only a month after you met.”
“That doesn’t mean we weren’t close.”
If he knew his brother, they weren’t close. At least, not as close as Hope thought.
Unless she meant New York.
“So your trip to New York, it was good?”
Hope breathed in and out loudly, relaxing into herself. “Yeah.” She got that far away look in her eyes, and he knew it was time.
“Hope?” He cleared his throat again. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
HOPE TILTED HER HEAD sideways and glanced at Cameron. “What is it?”
His face was stern, his eyes deep in thought, and his jaw rigid. Whatever it was Cameron wanted to tell her, she couldn’t figure out if it was good news or bad. He shifted in his seat and spun so he faced forward as well, making eye contact with her through the mirror on the back wall.
“Justin and I were identical twins.”
“That’s not exactly a newsflash.”
Cameron nodded, bringing his elbows to the counter. “When we were kids, we used to trick our teachers by swapping classrooms. By fifth grade they had us figured out. Sister Katherine reported us to our parents and—”
“You went to Catholic school?” Hope laughed. She couldn’t picture the bad boy brother in a religious school surrounded by nuns, blazers and ties, and the Bible.
“Got myself kicked out by sixth grade.” He flashed a sly grin at her.
“I can see that.”
“Circled through a handful of private schools in junior high and high school.”
“Yup. I can see that as well.” She knew little about the Smithfield family. Only that they were beyond loaded. Something Justin liked to remind her of. At times it had made her feel uncomfortable, but he’d made it sound so glamorous. And the fact that a rich boy like Justin was interested in a poor freshman from Maine, well, she was blinded by his occasional charm and the way he made her feel when he wasn’t being a jackass.
“Anyway, another trick we used to do—one that I’m not proud of—is swap dates. It didn’t happen often. We traveled in different social circles. I never wanted into Justin’s, but he’d slip over to the dark side every so often.”
“I can’t see how any woman could get you two mixed up,” she lied. Not that she’d ever met Cameron until a few weeks ago, and if Justin were still alive she’d imagine him looking very similar. There was an edge to Cameron that his brother never had. Hope couldn’t figure out what it was, but there were obvious differences.
She would have used the word classy or mature, but Cameron was those things. Only different.
“We could put on a show when necessary.”
“When would it ever be necessary?” She sipped her hot chocolate, which had turned cool, and the whipped cream melted.
“When one of us had scheduled two dates for the same night. Or weekend.”
“Classy.” She didn’t like hearing these stories of Justin. Sure, he wasn’t the perfect boyfriend. Heck, he wasn’t even her boyfriend. They’d dated a few times, and she’d lost interest in his snobbish talk. But then he took her away for a weekend and everything changed.
Where There's Hope_A Well Paired Novel Page 11
