A hand fell on the small of my back, and when I was told, almost too softly, “Let’s go get your things, darling. I’ll walk you to your car,” I went. Not even questioning when that very same hand dropped and brushed the back of mine as we walked away.
I was beginning to understand just how exhausted I was from questioning every single thing in life.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Adalyn
We were at the Vasquez farm again.
Only this time, there weren’t any yoga mats or fluffy farm animals jumping and bleating around. It was a Friday evening, the sun had already set, and I was holding my right limited-edition Manolo Blahnik in my hands.
Cameron killed the engine of his truck and got out of the vehicle. He wordlessly pointed at the shoe and shot me a questioning glance.
“The heel snapped,” I explained in an unamused tone. Because how would I be amused? In one hand I lifted the beautiful, lavish stiletto I’d been stupid enough to wear, the heel in the other hand. “While I was waiting for you.”
The truth was I’d been pacing. On pebbled and clearly dangerous terrain. But he was late and I… Well, I hadn’t wanted to venture alone into the barn where tonight’s activity was taking place. Cameron Caldani wasn’t good company, but he was the lesser evil.
Cameron frowned. He frowned. Like he didn’t understand. The last thing I needed was attitude. “Don’t look at me like that,” I deadpanned.
“Like what?” He finally crossed the distance between us and stopped in front of me. His gaze dipped and stopped at my naked foot. He sighed. “Maybe if you weren’t parading around in those bloody things. But that’s nothing I haven’t told you before.”
“?‘In those bloody things’?” I was outraged on behalf of my shoes. “These are Manolo Blahniks.” His lips bent downward, as if the name didn’t ring any bell. I pushed the loose heel into my pocket and returned the remainder of the shoe to my foot. “Don’t pretend you don’t know how much these are worth. You lived in L.A. for years,” I told him, turning around. “And you even dated Jasmine Hill.” I started marching forward. “No one dates a fashion brand ambassador and comes out of that relationship unchanged. Not even someone who dresses in moss-green or boulder-gray technical pants most of the time.”
If Cameron thought anything about me knowing enough about his dating history to reference his only known relationship by name, he didn’t say. Good. I’d purposefully outed myself in order to make a point and obtain what I wanted: silence.
“Let me help you to the barn,” he said, suddenly there, right behind me. “You can’t even walk in that broken Banana Tonic.”
So much for that silence. “I don’t need help. I’ll continue to parade, as you put it, and risk the consequences.”
A snicker left him.
I ignored it—and the way he hovered so close behind me—and limped the rest of the way to the barn. When we reached the entrance, his arm stuck out, that large palm pushing the wooden door open for me.
“Temper before age,” he murmured against my temple.
I tried to ignore that, too, but the wave of tingles his breath created on my skin made my will waver.
Someone squealed and before I could set a foot inside, I was being wrapped in a hug, squeezed, released, and then pulled into the barn.
“You’re finally here!” Josie exclaimed. “We were waiting for you two.”
“We were held up,” Cameron muttered. “By a ruined pair of Manolos.”
I shot him a glance. So he knew. He more than knew. Only people who did called them Manolos.
“Now, that’s just terrible,” Josie crooned, making me return my attention to her. I gawked for a moment, distracted by the yellow dungarees she wore. “Oh, honey, no. You can’t wear that for our pottery class. Tonight’s Muddy and Mighty, and it’s called that for a reason.”
“But my clothes are fine,” I countered, looking down at myself. “And I promise, the missing heel doesn’t even bother me that much.” It was the workout my calves didn’t need, but I’d suck it up and be on my tiptoes all night if I had to.
Josie linked one of her arms with mine, moving us forward. “I’m sure you can do about anything at any given time, you’re like our own Super-boss-lady.” That seemed like a stretch. “But I won’t let you ruin that beautiful blouse. Or pants. Not on top of the already fallen shoe. RIP.” Her head turned to look over her shoulder. “Cam, sweetheart, go join the group. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Sweetheart? My heel-less limb wobbled. How familiar were Cameron and Josie? And how—I didn’t care. They’d been friends before I got here. It wasn’t important.
Or any of my business.
Josie dragged me all the way to the far end of the barn and pushed me into some kind of changing room that consisted of two foldable screens before disappearing for an instant. When she was back, she shoved something in my hands with a smile. “Come out when you’re ready.”
I looked down.
It was overalls. Pink. And sneakers. Also pink.
I thought back to my growing pile of laundry. My fallen shoe.
Overalls it is.
* * *
“You look so cute,” Josie said when I rejoined the group. She gave me a once-over, her face brightening. “They look so much better on you than they do on me. You know what? You should keep them.”
I doubted that was true. A glance at the borrowed clothes told me they looked as tight around my hips and chest as they felt. “That’s… very kind of you. Thanks.”
“Of course,” she said with a wink. “Your workstation will be there. Right at the front.” She pointed at the left. “I had to physically drag that man to the front of the class, by the way.” I followed her finger with my eyes, stumbling upon a wide torso covered in a yellow apron with tiny daisies on it. “Can you do something to make him stop scowling?”
My eyes rose to Cameron’s face. He didn’t look happy. He was sulky and frowny and reminded me of a wet cat. It made me want to smile. “I don’t think I can, actually. I think that’s his face.”
The corner of his mouth twitched.
“Cam?” Josie said in an overly sweet tone. “Will you be a doll and show Adalyn how to work the wheel? You said it wasn’t your first time throwing a bowl. And today’s really busy.”
I looked around, taking in the ample space inside the barn and finding small groups of people gathered around waist-high tabletops. My eyes spotted Diane, who was pretending not to look this way.
I turned toward Josie. “I think this looks a little advanced for me. I’m a beginner.”
Josie chuckled. “A pottery virgin.” She smiled. I cringed. “Don’t worry, you’ll be in good hands.” She gave my shoulders a push in the direction of my workstation. And the scowly man. “Come on, courage conquers all things. Even pottery!”
I reluctantly stumbled to Cameron’s side.
His eyes dipped, his jaw clamping down. “Cute overalls.”
“Cute apron,” I answered while Josie started shouting instructions in the background. “The daisies really bring out your eyes.”
He huffed out a chuckle.
I made a face at him, and his gaze dipped down again. Quickly. Wickedly fast. But I caught it. I resisted the urge to tug at the overalls.
“So, you know how this works?” I pointed at the wheel assembled on top of the high bench.
Cameron’s hand entered my field of vision. He flipped a switch on its side, making the plate rotate slowly.
“Is there anything you don’t know how to do?”
He made a show of thinking about his answer and had the audacity to look smug when he said, “No.”
“Perfect!” Josie exclaimed, startling me with the sudden closeness of her voice. She clapped her hands. “You’ve turned on the wheel! Yay!” Then she scurried away again, praising how therapeutic pottery was in what I’d learned was her monitor voice.
“Jesus,” I whispered, patting my chest. “How does she do that?”