by Liz Isaacson
“What?” He looked at her, pure confusion in his expression.
“Go get your snack,” Cami said before Capri could rat her out for having a huge crush on Clay. She wasn’t even sure she had a crush. He dominated her thoughts, sure, but not in a good way. Not really.
She just needed to know how he felt about her. Period. Then she’d be able to make a decision, move forward. Stop second-guessing if she’d washed her hair, and then wash it again. Stop obsessing about talking to him or not talking to him.
Rhodes said, “I’m missing something,” and got out of the truck.
“How could he not know?” Capri asked.
“Know what?” Cami asked.
“About you and Clay.”
“There is no me and Clay.”
“Clay probably talks more to Jessie about his crush on you than Rhodes,” Capri mused as if Cami hadn’t spoken. And she was totally right. Clay and Jess were pretty good friends, something Cami had never minded. But now, she envied their friendship and how much Jess knew about Clay.
Cami really needed to stop thinking about him. Curse Granny and her magical matchmaking skills. Without all of that, she would’ve just thought Clay a nice guy for having a few seats at the fireside.
No, Granny had nothing to do with this turmoil inside Cami. Clay had asked her out weeks ago and done nothing.
This unrest in her soul belonged to him.
Rhodes returned with a bag of white chocolate popcorn. “Ready?”
“Yes,” Capri said, giving Cami a knowing look.
“So I’ll talk to Clay in the morning,” he said as if Cami hadn’t protested. “Can you come to our agriculture meeting?” He glanced at Cami as he backed out of his driveway.
She didn’t know how to tell him no. Besides, it was her job, and it made sense for Clay to head up a project like this, not only because he was second-in-command around the ranch, but because he was the lead cowboy over their crops.
“What about Joey?” Cami asked anyway.
“Joey’s quitting at the end of the month,” Rhodes said. “I’m going to have Gil take over anything Clay can’t handle.”
So she’d have to work with Clay on this project.
Fine.
She could be professional and distant, the way he’d been even after asking her out. She looked at Capri, who patted her leg with a smile, and then they arrived at the homestead, Georgia rumbling up behind them a moment later.
Betsy and Knox arrived before Cami could even get out of the truck, and she was sincerely hoping she didn’t have any room in her brain to keep thinking about Clay.
She’d see him tomorrow anyway, and even that was sooner than she’d like.
Chapter 4
Clay made himself the sorry grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. He skipped the tomato soup, though something hot to fill his stomach sounded good.
He sat on the couch for about four seconds before he couldn’t stand to be caged by his cabin walls. “Come on,” he said to his dog, a golden retriever German shepherd mix. The dog was as smart as a whip, though Clay had only owned him for ten months.
He loved to chase a ball, and he would search the long grass for it until he found it. His patience was never-ending, and Clay loved watching Trooper do what he loved to do—find and hunt and fetch.
“Let’s go run,” he said to the dog, picking up a couple of tennis balls and Trooper’s leash. He wouldn’t use the leash, because they only ran from his cabin to the stand of trees about a half a mile away. Clay wouldn’t run much further than that, because he hated running, and Trooper wasn’t a rabid dog trying to rip off his arms.
He opened the front door, and Trooper bolted out in front of him. His claws clicked on the steps that led to the front yard, and the dog barked once he reached the lawn. His way of saying, Come on, human. Move faster.
Clay took his time stretching, and then he threw a ball as far as he could down the lane. Trooper barked as he took off after it, and Clay kept the other ball in his hand as he started after the dog.
When Trooper saw him coming, he barked, which caused him to drop the ball. “Come on,” Clay said, reaching the dog. “Get it, and let’s go.”
Trooper grabbed the ball again and ran ahead of Clay. Soon enough, their paces evened out, and Clay kept his focus on the trees in the distance. They hardly seemed to get closer, but he did eventually reach them. “All right,” he said, panting almost as hard as the canine. “Drop the ball.”
Trooper did what Clay said, and he threw the ball again, this time out into the field with all the grass. The dog was so vocal as he looked for the ball, and he pounced and yapped as he found the ball and trotted back to Clay with it.
The game continued, and Clay had to pay close attention to Trooper, because the dog would literally not quit on his own. After a while, Clay’s throwing arm ached, and he started back toward the cabins. Trooper walked at his side, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.
Back home, Clay got water for himself and the dog, and he tried sitting on the couch again. There was just no way that was going to happen today. He thought of Cami on the other side of the ranch, with her family.
Surely lunch had ended over there by now, and he wondered what she did after that. Take a nap? Play games with her siblings? Watch a movie?
Clay sometimes did all of those things, except for spending time with his siblings. But he might go next door and play cards with the other cowboys. Jessie had promised to teach him all of her tricks, but she hadn’t come to poker night again.
She probably never would, and Clay would keep trying to outwit the other men who showed up every first Thursday to the far barn for poker night.
“A shower,” he said to himself. That would take at least twenty minutes, and he was sweaty from the run down the road.
Twenty minutes later, and he came face-to-face with his phone. He’d sat in his truck in the church parking lot, staring at his device too. Trying to find a way to text Cami and ask her to come to dinner tonight.
Surely her family didn’t eat every meal together on the Sabbath. But Clay hadn’t been able to find the right words, and Flynn had called about another mechanical issue on his ranch. Clay had talked to him until the church bells rang, and then he’d hurried inside.
He still hadn’t had any more contact with Cami, and he felt like he was going insane. He swiped and tapped and got to his and Cami’s text string.
What are you doing for dinner tonight?
He stared at the words, trying to decide if they were too forward. Cami didn’t seem to get scared by men who came right out and said what they wanted. Clay simply didn’t know how to do that.
His heart skipped over a couple of beats, and he read the words again, quickly tapping the send arrow before he could erase them.
Trooper barked from his spot on the couch, and a few moments later, someone knocked on Clay’s front door. Confusion ran through him. Was it Cami? That made no sense, and sure enough, the door opened a moment later and Wyatt walked in.
“Hey,” he said with a smile. “A few of us are setting up a badminton net in the back yard. You want to come play?”
“Sure,” Clay said, feeling foolish for asking Cami to dinner. He might be lonely, but he had friends he could rely on. “Hey, so can I ask you a quick question first?”
“Sure.” Wyatt picked up a bag of chips and ate a couple. “What’s goin’ on?”
“It’s about…Cami Quinn.”
“Oh, boy,” Wyatt said with a smile, his eyes glowing with happiness now. “You asked her out ages ago. You ever gonna follow up on that?”
“I did,” Clay said. “And I kind of blew it.”
“How so?”
“I don’t really know,” Clay said. He held out his phone. “Read the texts. I asked her to lunch yesterday at the fall fireside.”
Wyatt took the phone and read the texts. “Sounds like you did great to me.” He handed the phone back. “And it looks like you won’t be playing badminton.”
; “What?”
“She answered, cowboy. You didn’t see her response?”
No, he hadn’t, and Clay took his phone and looked at it. I can squeeze in dinner before the fireside tonight. Should we eat and attend that together?
“The fireside,” he said. He had been planning on attending, but he’d lost sight of it in his attempts to get Cami off his mind.
“I’ll tell the others you’re out,” Wyatt said, laughing as he left.
Clay said, “Yeah, okay,” as he tapped out a response to Cami. Yeah, sure. That sounds great. What time do you want to come by?
Whenever you’re ready, Cami said.
I’m ready now.
Great, she said. I’ll be over in a few.
Clay’s whole body felt like he’d been encased in fire, and he turned in a full circle. Trooper barked, and Clay focused on the dog. “Yeah, okay. Calm down. Yes, calm.” He could do calm. He could.
“What should we have for dinner?” he asked. He wasn’t terribly hungry, and he had no idea what time it was. He strode over to the fridge and yanked it open, though he already knew what groceries he had.
He glanced at the clock and decided he didn’t need to start the pizza right now. It was only four, and surely Cami wouldn’t come until closer to dinner time. After all, the fireside didn’t start until seven-thirty. They didn’t need to “squeeze in” dinner.
He glanced around his house, realizing it wasn’t the cleanest on the planet. He started straightening up, putting his dirty dishes in the sink, along with the frying pan he’d used to make his lunch. He opened a cupboard and put away his salt and pepper shakers, moved his paper towels next to the fridge, and pulled out a lighter to light the candle that smelled like oranges and vanilla.
Jessie had given him the candle for his last birthday, and he wondered if she could give him some insight on her sister. Nope, he told himself. He wasn’t going to get information on Cami from Jessie.
He wanted it from Cami.
Trooper barked and jumped off the couch, going right to the door. Clay froze. She couldn’t be here already. Could she?
A light, very feminine knock sounded on the door, and Clay’s pulse went crazy. He strode over to the door and opened it, revealing a beautiful Cami Quinn standing there. She wore the same dress she’d worn to church, minus the heels. Her dark red hair flowed over her shoulders in pretty curls, and Clay couldn’t help smiling at her.
“Hey,” he said, standing in the doorway and grinning for all he was worth. Trooper sat behind Clay’s leg, as he’d been taught to do, and Clay felt like the earth was spinning way too fast.
“Hey.” Cami smiled at him, her fingers twining around themselves.
“Do you like pizza?” he asked.
“Who doesn’t like pizza?”
Clay chuckled and ducked his head, adjusting his cowboy hat slightly. “I hear you. Well, come in. I have stuff to make pizza, and we can each make our own.”
Cami ducked past him, gathering her long skirt in one hand and tucking her hair with the other. “Can I pet your dog?”
“Of course,” Clay said, bringing the door closed behind her. He could not believe this was happening. Cami was in his house. His house. “His name is Trooper.”
“He’s adorable.” She crouched down in front of Trooper and started scratching behind his ears. “And so soft.” She glanced up at Clay, and something electric jumped from her gaze to his. He blinked, sure he was the only one who could feel that.
Cami straightened. “I like meats and veggies,” she said. “What do you have for toppings?”
Clay hopped into action and opened the fridge again. “I have green peppers. Let’s see…onions. Olives. I bet I have black olives in the cupboard.” He knew he was scrambling, and he told himself to calm down. He took a deep breath, and then another one.
“How was your family lunch?”
“Oh, Betsy burned the rolls, so she was all out of sorts.” Cami gave a light laugh that lit up Clay’s whole soul.
“That doesn’t sound like her.” He’d eaten plenty of Betsy’s food. As the ranch chef, she sometimes invited all the cowboys to the homestead for lunch. It was there that Clay had first met Cami and been struck with her kind spirit and gorgeous face.
“Well, we all have bad days.” Cami smiled at him and opened a drawer. “Knife…knife.”
“Here,” he said, taking a knife from the butcher block next to the fridge.
“Tell me about your family,” Cami said as she took the knife.
Clay sucked in a breath and held it. She must’ve noticed, because she said, “If you want. It’s fine if…I noticed you never go see them at holidays or anything.”
She’d noticed?
Clay set a pan on the stove and got out the sausage and ground beef. She said she liked meats on her pizza, and he did too. “Uh, let’s see. I have two older brothers. Like, way older than me. Joe is fifty, and Jerry is forty-six.”
“Oh.” Pure surprise coated those two little letters.
“Yeah.” Clay nodded, got the heat going under the pan, and started unwrapping the sausage so he could brown it all up. “I mean, we get along okay. It’s more like we don’t know each other at all. I was thirteen when Jerry got married, and my dad died the next year.” He shook his head, his focus only on the pan in front of him.
His childhood and past wasn’t painful. He just didn’t like talking about it. Or maybe it was painful.
“I’m so sorry.” Cami touched his left arm, and Clay looked at her. That heat passed between them again, but Clay told himself it was just the fire under the frying pan. Cami’s face filled with a flush, and she fell back a step.
Clay cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said, though he didn’t know why. “I went to college for a year, but then I got in a pretty bad mountain biking accident. I went back home, and my mom took care of me until I recovered all the way.” He swallowed. Yep, this part was definitely painful. “And then she died too. So, with nothing and no one keeping me in Wyoming, I came to Idaho. I worked on any ranch or farm that needed me, and I landed here six years ago.”
“When I was in college,” she said.
“Right.” Clay broke up the sausage and ground beef, the scent of the cooking meat starting to fill the air. “Listen, I just….” He turned around and faced her fully. “I’m sorry it took me so long to set up a date. Sometimes….” He tried to find the right words, but he’d never been particularly good with them.
“I get it,” Cami said. “Sometimes we just don’t know what to do or say, so we don’t do or say anything.”
Relief filled Clay. “Right. Are you like that too?”
She grinned and tucked that pretty hair again. “Why do you think I went into a career that deals with numbers?” She laughed, and somehow that made everything better in Clay’s life. She leaned closer to him, almost like she had a secret to share. “Numbers make sense,” she said. “People don’t.”
And boy, wasn’t that the truth?
Chapter 5
Cami had never experienced a better hour than the one making personal pizzas in Clay’s kitchen. Once he’d told her the more sobering story of his family—which was short, and surely there was more to learn there—they’d settled into an easy conversation about the ranch.
His dog. The bulls. What she liked on her pizza. Their favorite sodas.
As the pizzas baked, Clay took her outside and showed her what Trooper could do. “I can’t believe he’ll high five,” she said, holding up her hand again. “How’d you learn to teach him all of this?”
“Okay, don’t laugh,” Clay said, and Cami found him downright refreshing. Jess had always said he was one of the good ones, but Cami hadn’t known what that meant until now. Maybe she’d spent so much time with the bad ones that now she could see it.
“But Internet videos,” he said. “There’s a ton of information on dog tricks on the Internet.”
Cami giggled, something she wished she wouldn’t do quite so often.
She thought it made her sound childish, or worse, air-headed. “I bet there is.”
“Plus, Trooper’s smart,” Clay said. “That helps a lot.”
“Have you done a lot of dog training?”
“A little, actually,” he said, settling on the steps with the tennis ball. Trooper sat at the bottom of them, an expectant look on his face. “After I got hurt, I had a dog that worked with me.”
“Worked with you?”
“Yeah.” He threw the ball, and Trooper tore after it. “Like, a therapy dog? He went with me to the store, on my walks, that kind of stuff.” Clay cut her a glance out of the corner of his eye. “I think he was more of an emotional support animal. I’d always liked dogs, but I found a new respect for them after that.”
Cami sat beside him as Trooper returned with the ball. He dropped it, slobbery and covered in grass, at the bottom of the steps.
“I’m not throwin’ that again,” Clay said to the dog. “We already ran and played fetch today.”
Cami reached for it, but Clay put his hand on her arm. “I wouldn’t. He’s relentless. And you don’t want to touch that, trust me.”
The tennis ball did look disgusting, and Cami sat back down. Clay reached over and slid his hand into hers. “Is this okay?” he whispered, almost like he was afraid she’d disappear into thin air if he spoke too loud.
Shooting fireworks moved through Cami’s fingers, up her arm, and zinged across her shoulders. “Yeah,” she said just as reverently. She felt like Cinderella, like when this night ended, he’d disappear back into his castle—or his cabin—and she wouldn’t see him again.
Clay Martin was more mysterious than she’d thought, but he had a gentle power about him that spoke to Cami. Made her want to get closer and learn more about him. His hand in hers was warm, and strong, and callused, and she liked that. It spoke of his work ethic and personality.
“Favorite hobby,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder.
He sighed, and it sounded so happy. “I like playing with Trooper,” he said. “But I’m not sure that’s a hobby. I like collecting things.”
