by Palmer Jones
Addie endured his bizarre attention while Mrs. Dempsey finished her conversation, only half listening about Ruth’s arthritis. Thankfully, Ruth said her goodbyes and took the Edward Scissorhands look-a-like with her before Addie had to interact with him again.
“What did Cameron say?” Mrs. Dempsey asked on their way to the car.
Addie glanced at her. “About what?”
“Dinner, honey.”
“Oh, shoot, I asked him, but we got off topic.”
Mrs. Dempsey made a little noise of agreement. “That tends to happen.”
Addie scrambled. “No.” She made it sound like they had something going on. “It’s not like that—”
“Has your boyfriend called yet?”
She crossed her arms. “No. He hasn’t.” What did that have to do with anything?
She made that little noise again, and Addie narrowed her eyes at the implication.
“We started discussing coffee.”
“With Cameron?” She laughed. “Don’t bother. My boy only drinks something that resembles tar instead of real coffee. And never offend him by putting anything like creamer or sugar in it. He thinks it’s sacrilegious.” She paused and pointed. “There he is now, following Mrs. Latham back across the street. Run over there and ask him about supper.”
She gave Addie a gentle shove in her son’s direction. No use in pointing out to Mrs. Dempsey that she didn’t have anything in common with Cameron to discuss besides coffee.
She swiveled around and walked back down the sidewalk. Cameron’s back stiffened the moment he spotted her. Mrs. Latham headed into the coffee shop while he shoved his hands in his pockets and waited by the door.
She slowed down and strutted a little more without being too obvious, satisfied that this time, finally, his eyes followed her every move. This is what she’d practiced for the past few years. She could handle the chase when she was in the lead, making the calls. Despite every reasonable thought, she wanted him to chase her. To look at her the way other men did.
“Forget somethin’?”
No matter how many times she prepped for it, the slow roll of his accent always hit her hard. “An answer to your mom’s question about supper. We got off topic earlier.”
His phone chimed. He pulled it out, shaking his head. “My mom asked me to pick up some beer for tonight.”
She’d texted? Addie’s face flamed with heat. Why had she sent her to ask him to begin with? She whipped her head around to see Mrs. Dempsey leaning against the car, watching them. She waved.
Addie didn’t wave back.
Cameron shoved his phone back in his pocket. “I should have seen it earlier. Tanya Dempsey is the perpetual matchmaker.”
“That’s so weird.” She ran a hand through her hair, hoping the shock or small shred of hope didn’t show. “Right?” She asked at his silence. He still didn’t answer, only pinned her in place with his dark look.
Her thoughts had traveled down that path and hit the dead end called reality. She broke into computer systems for a living. That wasn’t exactly conducive to dating a cop.
Finally, he shook his head. “I’m sure you’ll be excited to know that I don’t think I can make dinner.”
She should have been excited. Ecstatic, really. Keep her from the constant stress to stay away. But, she had to admit a pang of disappointment ran through her. She’d hoped her job could distract her from the attraction. Deep down, she didn’t want the distraction. She wanted him.
But she wouldn’t let him know that. With a smile and shrug, she turned away. “Your loss.” She strutted back to his mom’s parked car, her mind racing at Mrs. Dempsey’s subtle plan. Her and Cameron? Did she really think that would work?
Mrs. Dempsey didn’t have all the facts. Her job was a top priority in her life. She loved it. There was nothing, short of being stranded in a small town facing grand theft auto charges that would keep her away from working for White Rabbit.
To be with Cameron, she’d have to come clean about her job. She glanced up at the blue sky. Nope. Not going to happen. White Rabbit didn’t allow it, and it wouldn’t get her Cameron, anyway. He’d probably lock her up on principle.
And she could never entirely be herself around him. He might tease her about her glasses and sloppy clothes, but Brian had drilled it into her that guys only said those things to placate women. That she looked ten times better with hair and makeup fixed. He always expected his girlfriend to look spectacular.
She was finally ready to move on from Brian. She couldn’t land herself in another relationship where she couldn’t be herself.
Cameron would have to remain right where he was. Stored in the fantasy between closing her eyes and falling asleep.
8
Addie stood hip to hip with Mrs. Dempsey and watched every step to make fried chicken. Addie’s mouth had never watered this way before. Hot grease and fried meat. Not something you typically smelled in L.A. She bet Trevor would love this. He’d enjoy the food, but more, he’d love the time spent in the kitchen. Cooking side-by-side and having fun. They’d done it together several times with their parents traveling and away from the house so much.
“You know the first rule to cooking?”
Addie shook her head.
Mrs. Dempsey cut a small, crispy chicken breast open to check the inside. “It’s trying what you make.” She sliced off a chunk and held the fork out for Addie to take.
Addie closed her eyes as the warmth from the chicken and flavor exploded on her tongue. “Oh my God!” She chewed slowly. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
“You said that about that breakfast casserole I made this morning.”
Addie pointed her fork at the chicken. “This beats it. How in the world do you stay in shape eating this? I’d have to run ten miles a day. Which I need to do, by the way.”
She shrugged. “I don’t focus on that. I walk a few times a week. I also go to the Community Center to do the Zumba classes on Saturday mornings. That’s more to catch up with the local gossip than for exercise. But really, if we eat right, exercise right, we die anyway.” She popped a piece of chicken between her lips. “Might as well enjoy the little moments.”
Cameron opened the back door of the kitchen. Addie smiled right at him, her mood too good that even he could ruin it. She had several little moments she wished she could enjoy with her small-town deputy.
It was as if he hadn’t even seen her. He passed right by, opened the fridge, and pulled out a bottle of Bud Light. He popped the top. His eyes closed as he finished off half the bottle in one, long drink.
Heat crept across her skin the longer she watched his Adam’s apple bob with each swallow.
“Addie,” Mrs. Dempsey began, a little louder than a whisper. “Your chicken is done.”
Her breath rushed from her lips. Right. Chicken.
Cameron lowered the beer, locking eyes with hers for the first time since yesterday. The intense connection highlighted her desire to dive at him, drag his head down and kiss away his mood. Prolonged exposure to teenage fantasies over the man must have addled her brain.
She turned and faced the stove. Had he felt it? He didn’t like her. He’d blown over his mom’s matchmaking endeavors like it happened every day for him.
But that one moment said differently.
“How was your day, honey?” Mrs. Dempsey leaned a hip on the counter.
“Rough.” His voice sounded abrasive. She risked a glance at him as she placed a piece of chicken on the newspaper to drain. He set his beer down next to her hand, his arm brushing against hers as he looked at the chicken frying. If she rocked back, just a touch, she suspected she’d bump into his chest. At least she had the excuse for warm cheeks from standing over the fryer. It was a big kitchen, and he had her boxed in.
“You know what cures a bad day?” Mrs. Dempsey handed him a cucumber and a metal instrument. “Peeling the cucumbers for the salad.”
With an exhausted laugh, he took the metal f
rom his mom.
“What is that?” Addie’s curiosity finally got the best of her as she pointed at the metal thing. It had a fat metal side and a narrow, skinny side. It looked like an antique.
He wiggled it, and the metal clanged together lightly like it was loose. “A peeler.”
“My peeler doesn’t look anything like that. It’s wide with two blades. It will take your finger off if you get close.”
Cameron’s lips twitched, but he didn’t laugh. “This has been here at least thirty-three years.”
“Longer than that. It was a wedding present from my mother.”
“It’s a little dull.”
Mrs. Dempsey dredged chicken through the flour mixture and chuckled. “It works fine for me.”
Addie alternated between watching Cameron peel cucumbers into the sink and waiting for her next batch of chicken to cook. Seeing him do something so domesticated, and being a part of it herself, pushed her former life farther and farther away. A few internet searches of her drug lord and one vague email to Miss Alice had her boss hot on her tail demanding results. She’d have to figure something else out and soon if she wanted to keep her job. One quick look at his server. Not trying to get in, but at least have a game plan for when she returned to L.A.
“Addie,” Mrs. Dempsey said with a nudge on her shoulder, “your chicken.”
Geez! She’d been staring at Cameron this entire time daydreaming about hacking. She snatched the chicken from the pot, a large pop of grease landing on the back of her hand.
“Ow!” She brought the spot to her lips. Her skin burned.
Then, Cameron was there, taking her hand away from her lips. He snapped, “You should be more careful.”
“I’ll get the aloe.” Mrs. Dempsey slid the pot off the hot eye and left the room. Addie hardly paid her any attention. Cameron’s hand completely enveloped hers. His eyes stayed focused on her hand where a red whelp the size of a quarter started to appear. His thumb skimmed back and forth along the underneath side of her hand. She hardly felt the sting any longer. Standing this close, she fixed her eyes on his faint stubble from a five o’clock shadow. She gripped the counter with her other hand to keep from reaching out to brush her hand along his jaw. He wasn’t hers to touch.
She’d let her guard down with Mrs. Dempsey. Impossible not to with such a sweet woman. Trying to switch it on now with Cameron didn’t seem right. Or possible.
“Here we go!” With a wide smile, Mrs. Dempsey passed a piece of the green plant over to Cameron and set a bandage on the counter. “I’m going to give your dad a quick call and see what his ETA is.”
Cameron squeezed the plant until a clear, gooey liquid appeared. That was aloe? She’d never considered that someone would have that in their house. She’d always seen green aloe in a bottle in the store.
He gently let the goop land on the back of her hand. He had so many sides to his personality. He was kind to old ladies and tended to the injured. She really needed to remember all the reasons she shouldn’t like him.
“I didn’t realize people had aloe plants lying around.”
He chuckled but remained focus on his task. “My Grandma used aloe to cure just about everything.”
He laid the bandage over the burn and pressed down the edges with such gentleness as if she might break. “Keep it covered.” He brought the back of her hand to his lips, laying a featherlight kiss on top of the bandage. His eyes met hers.
And that was why most fairy tale princesses immediately fell in love with the prince.
She’d never actually felt the cliché of her knees going weak from a man, but Cameron had accomplished it. Her breath hitched when she tried to speak. The silence of the room rested around them. Since she wanted to step closer, to feel what that kiss he’d given her hand would feel like on her own lips, she stepped away. His girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate her encroachment on her territory.
“You’re pretty good at patching people up.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. Was he embarrassed? “I visited my little cousin in Alabama last month. She’s six.” He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I was informed that a kiss was required when applying a bandage.”
“Oh”—she wet her bottom lip—“it definitely is. Glad I remind you of a six-year-old.”
Cameron reached out and flicked her lopsided ponytail sitting on top of her head. “All you need is a big pink bow.” He smirked. “And your glasses.”
Addie rolled her eyes. “Will you stop teasing about the glasses? Didn’t realize you had such a mean streak to make fun of someone with glasses.” She turned away from him, grabbing a pair of tongs and rearranging the chicken on the platter for no reason. His hand rested along her shoulder. She froze.
His thumb brushed along the side of her neck.
She gripped the tongs in her hand tight. There went her knees and about two-thirds of her common sense. At this point, she’d prefer him being a jerk over seductive.
He leaned in behind her until his chest brushed her back, his heat soaking through her thin shirt. He lowered his voice to almost a whisper in her ear. “You look cute in your glasses, Addie.”
The warmth of his breath fanned across her cheek. A shiver snaked up her spine. She didn’t try to conceal her reaction. At least he couldn’t see her eyes roll into the back of her head. Ten days. That was all she had to hold onto her hormones and not make a fool of herself.
Addie nodded, hoping it came across as nonchalant, but it felt more like a bobblehead doll.
Mrs. Dempsey came bustling back in, and the heat from his body disappeared. “Your dad’s pulling in now. I’ll drop in these last two pieces of chicken, and then, we can eat. Cameron, the rest of the salad stuff is in the fridge.”
Without being asked again, Cameron immediately pulled everything out. His knife slammed into the cutting board with each slice of the carrot, like he was taking out his frustration on the poor vegetables. Addie made herself stay busy to keep from staring at him. He moved around the kitchen with his mom like it was second nature. Brian’s meals consisted of protein smoothies and a carryout service specializing in raw vegan food. And soup. She’d never seen one person consume so much soup before.
As soon as Mrs. Dempsey set the chicken on the table, Sheriff Dempsey walked into the kitchen.
“Hello, Addie.” His smile felt warm and real. Tiny lines crinkled around his green eyes, identical to Cameron’s. “I heard you made us chicken.”
“With your wife’s supervision. I don’t think I’d ever try this on my own. Probably set the whole kitchen on fire.”
Mrs. Dempsey brought rolls to the table and a tub of margarine. “You did fine.”
Cameron held out Addie’s chair.
She couldn’t help it, but she hesitated. His neutral look concealed wherever his thoughts had traveled. No way they were as confused as her own. He had Lacy. Contact with a female wouldn’t matter to him.
“How was work today, Cameron?”
The peaceful mood dissipated as Cameron sat down beside her. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “I followed up on a lead Mr. Stinson gave me yesterday.”
Sheriff Dempsey sat back. “A lead. That’s new. You didn’t mention that.”
Addie didn’t miss the accusation in his voice.
“His daughter’s car was parked on the side of their house. Might have been caught by the security cameras at the lumberyard,” Cameron added.
Something passed between the three of them. Mrs. Dempsey took a sip of her sweet tea as her gaze shifted between the two men.
“Did Kevin give you the video?” Sheriff Dempsey’s scowl matched his son’s.
“Nope.”
Oh well for a pleasant family dinner. Sheriff Dempsey grunted, and the next ten minutes were eaten almost exclusively in silence, despite Mrs. Dempsey’s efforts of carrying on the conversation.
Addie wanted to crawl back into her room and hide out from the family drama. No one got too excited about
anything in her own family. Her parents vacationed around the world, hopping from ski resort to exclusive Caribbean bungalows. The payouts from their investments helped to fund an early retirement. The only emotion her parents showed at the dinner table was when the wine was served at the wrong temperature.
Mrs. Dempsey ate a few bites of her dinner, declared Addie’s chicken to be the best she’d ever had, and promptly rose and left out the back door.
As if the move was designed, Sheriff Dempsey followed after her.
Cameron stood, and Addie felt a snag of disappointment that he’d leave too. Instead, he grabbed two beers from the fridge. He opened both and set one in front of Addie.
“It’s the only way to get through this crap.”
Addie stared at the beer. There wasn’t an easy way to ask this. “I’m getting the feeling that there’s some history between your parents and whoever Kevin is.”
He laughed harshly before taking a long drink. “My mom chose my dad over Kevin almost forty years ago. Kevin hasn’t gotten over it. Never married. He acts as though my mom might run off with him at any moment. He’s been a pain in the ass for my dad ever since. He won’t cooperate with anything and still sends my mom Valentine’s Day cards and roses on the anniversary of their first date.”
“Wow.” She mimicked his move and took a long drink. When was the last time she’d had a beer? College, probably. Brian’s tastes included expensive wines and premium liquors. At what point had she completely lost her own identity? It was supposed to have been a superficial arrangement, but she’d become her Hollywood alter ego. Brian had molded her into what he wanted. It made ordinary moments when she didn’t need a cover, hard to handle.
They drank in silence, the murmur of his parents’ voices floating in through the screen door.
For that brief time, the wall between Addie and Cameron disappeared. Cameron motioned to the table. “Your chicken was good.” He skimmed a finger along the back of her hand over the bandage. “I still hate it you got hurt.”
She watched his finger instead of making eye contact. He had to be toying with her. The same way he joked about her glasses.
