He stalked out of the cabin.
I stood there, looking down at my borrowed clothes, and wondering what had just happened. Wondering if I should close the door and call it a night, too.
Cameron reappeared.
He stormed right back into the cabin, still cursing like his life depended on it, but now, he was holding a metal box under an arm. I searched for his eyes, but he wouldn’t look at me. He walked right past me, came to a stop in front of the mess of hardwood and dropped the box to the floor. Then, he kneeled down and threw it open with a jerk of his hand.
“Cameron?” I ventured, gaping at the scene in complete disbelief. “What are you doing?”
But Cameron Caldani was on autopilot.
He ignored my query, pulling a very large and serious-looking hammer out of the box, and straightened back up.
And then, without a word, he went full-on Hulk on the bed.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cameron
I couldn’t catch a break.
With a shake of my head, I scanned the mess before me. Not only was Willow’s food scattered all over the kitchen floor, but there were puddles of water and… Were those some of my coffee beans? I kneeled down to get a better look. Yes.
Joined by a few auburn feathers.
“Willow?” I called loudly, rising to my feet. I waited for the sound of her paws on the hardwood, or for one of her whiny responses, as I was sure she knew what she had done. But the cabin remained dead quiet. “Willow? You better not have chased down that goddamn rooster. Again.”
And although I hoped she hadn’t, there was certain relief on the off chance that I wouldn’t be startled awake by the insufferable crowing. The rooster, it seemed, had taken more of a liking to the Lazy Elk after pecking at Adalyn’s sandwich. Adalyn.
I remembered last night, and a wave of hot frustration swept me head to toe. It had taken me a full hour to dismantle the goddamn bed and carry it outside to my truck. And fuck me, the past months spent in retirement had come at a price. My arms were sore, my back hurt from knocking the thing down, and I was almost sure I’d pulled a muscle somewhere on my neck when I’d driven us back to the farm to get her things. I—
I shook my head.
There was too much to do this morning, I couldn’t allow myself to think of her. Of last night. It always started the same way. I’d recall something remotely related to her, and then I’d be summoning all sorts of other things.
Like those bloody overalls. They’d been so tight, making her look… Different. Homey. Inviting. Almost relaxed, for a change. Even with all those curves snug and confined. Ready to burst under the seams. Or my hands. They made me wish she would burn all her clothes and exclusively wear the goddamn things from now on.
My phone rang from the kitchen counter, snapping me out of that dangerous train of thought.
I stalked to the device and scanned the screen.
Liam.
I accepted the call. “What.”
“Wow,” he huffed. “Well, morning to you, too, sunshine.”
I rolled my eyes. “I fired you. Why are you calling me again?”
“You didn’t fire me,” he countered in that smug tone I knew so well. “You encouraged me to resign. And most would appreciate the fact that our friendship is transcending a terminated business relationship.”
I held the phone to my ear with a shoulder and served myself a second cup of coffee from the pot. “You were my agent, you were never my friend.”
“God, I’d forgotten you’re a prick,” Liam said with a breath. “But I love you anyway, so I’m going to pretend you didn’t disregard fifteen years of friendship.”
“Don’t pretend to miss me.” I brought my mug to my lips and took a long sip. “We both know I was a nightmare to work with.”
“Christ. You’re in some mood today, mate.”
I returned the device to my hand and crossed the living room area to the glass doors facing the front yard. “Maybe I am,” I admitted, looking out and taking in the beautiful expanse of green before me. My gaze somehow ended on the shabby cabin to the right. I wondered if she was awake. What she would wear today. If her hair would be up or down on her shoulders. Lately she’d let it down and I—Fuck. “What do you want, Liam?”
“Would you believe me if I said I called to check on you?”
“No.”
“That’s what I thought. It’d take a miracle for you to talk about your feelings anyway.” A calculated pause. “How are my favorite girls doing, then? Ditched you yet?”
As if summoned by the man who’d been in my life for almost two decades, Pierogi climbed on the patio banister. She stretched her paws and laid on top of it, turning into an orange ball of fluff. “Pierogi’s good. Napping half the time like she always does. And Willow…” I recalled the state of the kitchen floor. “Willow is still bitching at me every chance she gets. She hates it here.”
Liam’s chuckle came through the line. “That’s my best gal.”
“Far from it,” I muttered.
A long pause followed. One that gave away the real purpose of the call. I knew my former agent like I knew the palm of my hand. I gave him shit because he gave me shit in return, but the truth is that we were like brothers. We’d risen together to the top, and he’d been loyal and honest to a fault. Letting go of him hadn’t been easy. But I’d had no use for him after hanging up the gloves, and he’d known exactly why. That was why he insisted on checking up on me.
“Listen,” Liam said, just like I knew he would. “I know you’re still processing where you stand with this, but let me stress once more how great of an opportunity this is. The channel—”
I laughed, bringing his words to a stop. “I’m not processing. I know where I stand. That’s why when you called the other day I asked you to kindly pass along my answer to RBC Sports.”
“A ‘fuck off’ is not something you kindly pass along, Caldani. Specifically not to RBC Sports.”
“Translate it into your language, then.” I took another sip of my coffee, trying to focus on the smooth bitterness, and not on the way my stomach was tying up in knots. “Say it in some pretty way they’d like.”
“Cameron,” Liam warned, all lightness gone from his voice. “I know you’re a giant twat.” I snorted. “But I never had you for a fool.”
And that’s why I signed with him when we were nothing but nobodies with big dreams. Liam never tiptoed around anything or anyone, he said it like it is.
When I wasn’t called up for the national team, he sat me down and told me to suck it up and move on. I was too old and there was younger and fresher meat. And when the smartest thing to do had been to pack up and sign for an MLS team, he’d never tried to sell me on the idea like it was some great plan to make me the legend I’d never be. He’d told me to move to L.A. and have one last hurrah. Make the contacts, take the cash, and get a break from the Premier League’s politics I’d never had an interest in.
In every instance, I’d listened to him. Because I knew he wanted what was best for me. For us. I hadn’t been a fool then. Was I being one now?
“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” he insisted. But I knew. I wasn’t born yesterday. The RBC didn’t call just anybody. Much less for a pundit gig on a prime-time show. “I haven’t said no, not yet. I’ve told them you are thinking about it. Considering your options. They think the managing position in L.A. is still on the table, and I had one of my guys spread word around about a couple other MLS teams potentially sniffing around.”
A ball of lead settled at the bottom of my stomach at the thought of how close I’d been to taking the L.A. Stars’ offer to lead their academy coaching staff. How I’d be trapped in a gilded cage, with a life and a plan that no longer made sense, if I had.