“Sorry to interrupt, babe.” Morgan came out of the hallway cradling a little bundle wrapped in blankets. “Josie wants nothing to do with her crib. I have a feeling she recognized the voice of the man who sprang into action when her mama went into labor and cleared all those partygoers out of the way like he was culling a herd of cattle.”
“Here, I’ll take her.” Erica held out her arms for the baby, whose eyes were round and alert.
Jordan stood up to shake Morgan’s hand. “Sorry for barging in like this. I wanted to drop off a gift.”
Erica pulled a pink blanket off the ottoman beside her so Morgan could take a seat. “I was just about to tell Jordan that he can’t convince Camilla he is the one for her. He’s going to have to wait for her to come to that conclusion on her own.” She turned back to face Jordan. “If it’s meant to be, you guys will find your way back to each other.”
“What do you think, Josie?” Jordan asked the baby girl in Erica’s arms, who was staring at him with curiosity. “Do you think I should just give up on the woman I love?”
“No!” both Erica and Morgan said loudly in unison, causing the baby to pinch her tiny face into a startled expression.
“Sorry for sounding so adamant,” Erica said, then murmured reassuringly until her daughter’s face softened again. “It’s just that we’re witnessing firsthand what happens when someone gives up on the love of their life.”
Jordan glanced between Erica and Morgan, who by all appearances seemed to be completely smitten with each other.
“No, not us,” Morgan clarified. “Erica’s grandfather, Josiah.”
“Oh, I heard he’s out at Snowy Mountain Senior Care. Do they let them have girlfriends there?”
“No, Gramps was in love with a woman named Winona seventy-five years ago. We found his journal where he talked about how they had a baby girl named Beatrix, who was given up for adoption against his wishes.”
“I think I heard about this.” Jordan snapped his fingers. “One of the customers at Camilla’s mom’s beauty shop was talking about some missing baby. She mentioned the Abernathys being involved, but I didn’t realize it was your grandfather.”
“Probably because you never pay attention to social media. My brother, Gabe, his fiancée, Melanie, and I have launched a nationwide search for Beatrix, who might be going by the name Daisy now. Anyway, my point is that Gramps totally regretted giving up on Winona and losing track of her and their baby. Don’t be like Gramps.”
“Okay, but you just told me not to try and convince Camilla to be with me.” Jordan scrubbed his hands over his face in exasperation. “If I’m not trying, then I pretty much am giving up.”
Erica sighed as if it should be so obvious. “She doesn’t need to be convinced to be with you. Camilla will figure that out all on her own as long as she knows that you’re not going to take off running at the first opportunity.”
“If I was in your boots, which I was not too long ago—” Morgan smirked at him before giving a pointed nod toward the ring on Erica’s finger “—I’d make sure that the woman I loved knew I was committed to being with her for the long haul.”
Erica turned to her husband and kissed him warmly, making Jordan miss Camilla all the more. Baby Josie also stirred in her mother’s arms, as though trying to remind her parents they weren’t the only two people in the room.
“Well, I should probably get going. I hope you guys find this missing relative. And I hope you,” Jordan said as he pointed to the sweet little face peering at him from her nest of blankets, “enjoy your first rodeo set. But apparently not until you’re a little bit older.”
Josie made a cooing noise as Jordan stood up to leave, and the charming sound echoed in his ears as he drove away from the Dalton ranch. The momentary pang bouncing around his chest was unexpected and different from any of the other pangs of loneliness he’d been experiencing lately. This one wasn’t because of the story of Josiah’s lost love or even the threat of Jordan losing his own love if Camilla decided she didn’t want him.
This pang was due to that adorable bundle in Erica’s arms and that sweet cooing sound and the thought that Jordan might never have a baby of his own.
Whoa.
Where had that thought come from? He’d never so much as bought a baby gift, let alone been around an actual baby. In fact, he’d never given more than a passing thought to the idea of having children, yet suddenly he was envisioning all the babies he wanted to have.
With Camilla.
Slow down, he told himself, glancing in his review mirror as though the baby patrol was right behind him. Having kids was still a ways down the road. But just the thought of building a relationship with Camilla—building a real future with her—made him envision the life he hadn’t known he wanted. Love, partnership and eventually a family.
Unfortunately, he still wasn’t any closer to convincing Camilla of their future together.
Chapter Thirteen
Camilla officially finished her last shift at DJ’s Deluxe on the first Friday in December. She’d purposely chosen one of the busiest nights of the week so that her coworkers wouldn’t be able to make a big deal or throw her some sort of farewell party. But then DJ had talked her into working Saturday night selling hot cocoa and beef sliders at the food booth during the annual tree lighting ceremony in the park. Since everyone in the Sanchez family usually volunteered at the various booths during community events, and since people would have made even more suspicious assumptions about Camilla if she didn’t attend, she’d grudgingly agreed.
But her heart wasn’t in it. In fact, her heart wasn’t into anything lately.
Just as she was clocking out for the final time, one of the bussers came into the office upstairs and said, “Hey, Camilla, there’s a guy waiting for you in the bar.”
Her heart fluttered inside her chest and she thought, Finally. She’d told Jordan to give her more time, but that hadn’t stopped her from expecting him to show up at the restaurant like he had after they’d first met. The man didn’t give up so easily no matter what anyone said.
This past week, Camilla should’ve been glad that he was following her wishes. However, as each shift had gone by and he hadn’t so much as made a takeout order, she’d begun to think that maybe he’d already gotten over her more quickly than they’d both expected.
But now he was downstairs in the bar. A thrill of excitement shot through her, and she stopped by the employee break room to check her appearance in the mirror and maybe run a little bit of gloss over her lips. She shuddered when she saw her reflection, though. Her hair was in a lopsided bun, her shirt was a wrinkled mess, and her red-rimmed eyes suggested she hadn’t slept in days. Overall, she looked about as miserable as she felt. Probably because she’d been burning the candle at both ends, trying to stay busy so she wouldn’t have to think about Jordan.
She fixed her hair, then eagerly descended the steps to the main floor, taking a deep breath and preparing herself for what she would say when she finally saw him. Yet instead of seeing Jordan waiting for her at the bar, it was her father.
“Don’t look so disappointed to see me, mija,” Aaron Sanchez said as he spread open his arms.
Camilla was wound so tightly with so many different emotions, she fell into his embrace. As he wrapped her in a bear hug, she experienced all the warm comfort of her childhood right here in the bar of the busiest restaurant in town. When she finally pulled back, she explained, “I’m not disappointed, Dad. I was just expecting it to be someone else.”
“Still haven’t talked to that Taylor boy, eh?” Dad patted the bar stool beside him, then asked Leo the bartender to bring them both a glass of the Chateau Montelena. This must be serious if Dad was ordering one of the most expensive chardonnays in DJ’s fine wine cellars.
“He called me last week, but to be fair, I did tell him I needed some space.”
H
er father nodded. “It’s good that he’s respecting your wishes.”
“That’s what Mom told me, too. Which is weird because I thought you guys liked Jordan.”
“Oh, we like him just fine. But if you don’t want him, then we’re not going to try and talk you into being with a man just because we bonded with him.”
Leo placed the two chilled glasses in front of them, and Camilla had to wait forever while her dad first sampled the wine, then nodded for the bartender pour it.
“How could you have bonded with him, Dad?” She took an unladylike gulp as soon as Leo left. “You barely even know him.”
“Know him? Mija, I’ve sorted and shipped and delivered all the mail in this town for how many years now? You know who knows the most about the residents?”
“The mail carrier.” She recited the answer ingrained in her since childhood, and was recently reminded of during Thanksgiving. All her life, her father let it be known to his family that he delivered the most personal information to people’s houses every day.
“Exactly. I know who gets letters from the IRS and who gets those magazines that come in brown wrappers. I know who belongs to which political parties and who tries to reuse the same stamps over again because they need every cent.”
“Is this where you tell me all of Jordan Taylor’s secrets?”
“If he had any, yes.” Dad clinked his glass against hers before taking another sip and swishing it around his mouth slowly, as if he was at a leisurely wine tasting event. Camilla could’ve finished an entire bottle in the amount of time it took him to finally continue. “Instead, this is where I tell you that I also know all the good stuff about him.”
“Like what?” Camilla asked, a regular glutton for punishment. The man had likely given up on her by now, and learning about the one she let get away was bound to only depress her more.
“Like he gets personally addressed letters from countless charities—the kind you usually only receive if you make big donations. The humane society, Girls in Science, scholarships for local kids, as well as kids all over the world. You know, all the organizations ol’ Cornelius doesn’t give to because it doesn’t involve a flashy gala where he is the center of attention.”
“Don’t knock the fancy galas, Dad. I’ve been to one and it actually raised an obscene amount of money.”
Her father continued as though he didn’t hear her. “Jordan also sends his former nanny a box of her favorite chocolates and a card every year, I assume for her birthday. And she sends him one in return. He has a pen pal through the Best Buddies program and the Wounded Warriors Foundation, and their letters go out and come in like clockwork. Plus, it’s no secret he mails off a check every month subsidizing the owner of those batting cages over by the Bronco Little League field so that competitive assistant of his is always guaranteed her favorite fast pitch machine. Should I go on?”
Camilla’s shoulders sank lower with every example her dad relayed as proof of Jordan’s upstanding character. “I know he is a good man, Dad. I mean, I knew he was willing to volunteer for all those local events with me. I guess I just didn’t realize he’d been doing those kinds of good deeds all along.”
“Probably because you were like everyone else and stayed blinded by what they wrote about him in the society pages and on social media.”
“It’s not that I didn’t know he was capable of it. It’s just that I also wasn’t looking for reasons to fall in love with him any more than I already am.”
“So you are in love with him.” Her dad let out a deep breath. “Your mother said that might be the reason why you’re pushing him away.”
“Who says I’m pushing anyone away?” Camilla asked, knowing full well it was exactly what she was doing. She preferred thinking of it as giving Jordan time to figure out how he felt about her. But really, she knew she was just giving him the reason he probably needed to break things off and go his own way.
“Because you did the same thing when you were in high school and that geography teacher wanted everyone to do those reports about a country. You spent days working on that report about Mexico and then you gave a presentation in class about the culture and had to bring in a food item from that region. Remember we got those recipes from your tio Marco and you were supposed to bring all the ingredients to class and then show everyone how to make birria?”
“I thought I made quesadillas for that report.” Camilla swallowed her feelings with another gulp of wine.
“You did. You took in grated cheese and those store-bought tortillas and melted it together in a pan when it was your turn to present. You were afraid that if you got up in front of the class and tried to make what you really wanted, you’d mess it up and everyone would say you weren’t truly Mexican. And to be honest with you, there was probably no way you could’ve pulled off that recipe. At least not on Mr. Watanabe’s portable stovetop and that microwave he borrowed from the science teacher.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I seem to recall you being a little more supportive of that presentation back in high school.”
Her father threw up his hands. “Of course I told you that you could do it, even though it took you at least five times practicing at home before you finally got it right. But you were so afraid of messing up, of being laughed at, that you gave up and went the easy route.”
“Is there a point to this story other than reminding me about my hopeless cooking skills?”
He took a much bigger drink of his wine this time, as though his own patience were also coming to an end. “My point is that you should’ve made the birria. Even if it wasn’t perfect, it still would’ve been more authentic than those quesadillas. Just like you should try and make things work with Jordan. Even if the relationship ends up being a disaster, at least it would be authentic because you’re being true to yourself.”
Camilla set her elbows on the polished bar top as she massaged her temples. “What if it’s too late to make things work with Jordan?”
“Why would you think it’s too late?” her dad asked.
“Because you and Mom were right and I probably did push him away. I was afraid that if I fell for him and he ended up leaving, it would hurt too much.”
“What would hurt? Your heart or your reputation?”
Camilla drew in a ragged breath. “Both.”
“Maybe. But you won’t know unless you give it a shot.” Her dad tucked his hand under her chin and lifted her face until she was staring at the unwavering love reflected in his eyes. “Plus the poor guy is so crazy about you that he and Felix actually lost last weekend’s basketball game to Dante and Dylan. Your brothers have no intention of letting him live it down, either.”
“Wait.” Camilla sat up straighter on her bar stool. She’d purposely avoided going to her parents’ house because she didn’t want them asking questions about what was going on with him. Had she missed something? “Jordan came over for Sunday night dinner?”
“Not for dinner because he said he was trying to respect your space. But when Felix called him to see if he could still shoot some hoops, he couldn’t get there quick enough. Mom was upset that you weren’t there, by the way. You never miss family dinners so she’s been worried about you. She tried to ask Jordan what was going on, but he kept pretty tight-lipped.”
“Good,” Camilla said, though something in her heart suddenly felt much lighter. If Jordan had gone to see her family a few days ago, then he hadn’t really given up on her. “You guys are all too nosy and need to learn how to mind your own business.”
“You kids are our business.” He finished the remainder of his wine, then pulled some cash out of his wallet and left it on the bar.
It was then that Camilla noticed the knee cart wheeled up against the other side of his stool. She looked down at the soft cast on his foot as he scooted forward, then she scanned the waiting area. “Dad, did you get the okay to drive out here?”
“No, your mom drove us. She sent me in here to talk to you since I’m the family referee.”
Camilla followed her father out of the restaurant, pulling on her puffy down coat as they went toward the end of the street where the employees parked. “So if you’ve got referee duty tonight, then what is Mom doing?”
“She’s running the scouting report.” Her dad held open the car door for her. “Your mom overheard Sofia talking about meeting some new guy at the Brick Oven, so she’s stationed over there to check him out. I’m going to meet her there.”
Apparently, Cornelius Taylor wasn’t the only over-protective parent in town. Just one more thing she and Jordan had in common.
“Are you and mom going to tell the others about this potential boyfriend?” Camilla sank into the driver’s seat, her aching feet tingling with relief. “Or are you going to wait until Christmas dinner for everyone to find out like you guys did with Jordan?”
“We’ll see if this new one lasts that long.” Her father shut the door, then gave one last wave as he scooted away.
Camilla sat in her car as the heater came to life.
The shops and restaurants of Bronco were in full holiday mode with lights and decorations and even a dusting of snow along the sidewalk. December in Bronco was the most magical time of the year and an hour ago, Camilla hadn’t exactly been feeling the holiday spirit.
But finding out that Jordan was still interested in her suddenly made everything shine brighter. It certainly made her heart feel lighter. She just needed to figure out a way to make things right with him.
Maybe she should remind him that, according to their original agreement, they still had one date left.
* * *
On the first Saturday of December, all the local merchants and craft vendors came together to sponsor the Bronco Tree Lighting Ceremony at the park in front of City Hall. It was one of Camilla’s favorite traditions, and nobody in her family would even consider putting up their own decorations or buying so much as a stocking stuffer until the town tree was officially lit.
His Christmas Cinderella Page 17
