“It must be a lot of work for Robbie. Taking care of his family and the farm and everything else on his own can’t be easy.”
“It’s not easy, that’s for sure,” Josie agreed, finishing up one of the drinks with whipped cream. “The farm struggled financially for a fair amount of time after losing María’s mom.” She lowered her voice. “And Robbie doesn’t like to talk about it, but he was—and maybe still is—in a lot of debt.” She sighed. “Luckily for all of us there’s some kind of guardian angel looking over Green Oak. I like to think of her as a modern fairy godmother. And yes, it’s a she, and she has Oprah’s face.” She grabbed a marker and began to write on a cup. “Nobody knows who it is, but when a local business struggles…” She waved the pen as if it was a wand. “Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!”
I chuckled, caught off guard by the theatrics. “So, like, an angel investor?”
“Yes,” she agreed. “But we choose to believe in the magic and not the fancy names.” A shrug. “Anyways. The Vasquezes’ farm is marching at full steam now. We just need a new happily ever after for Robbie. But I’m working on it. I’m an excellent matchmaker.”
I looked over my shoulder, finding María in the crowd as she talked about something that required both her hands.
“She’ll be fine,” Josie said. “Both she and Tony. I was also raised by a single parent, and look at how well I turned out.”
“You were?” I asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Never even met my dad.” She placed a second cup in front of me. “I just know he chose not to be involved, and the money he sent every month was put into a savings account under my name by my mom.”
A dozen questions rose to the tip of my tongue, but Josie sidetracked me with a laugh.
I frowned. “What?”
She pushed the two very elaborate and colorful drinks in my direction. “Girl, you better move and go rescue that very antsy-looking man before he murders someone. Namely, the president of the PTA.”
I glanced back, finding a very tight-faced Cameron talking to Diane. Or rather, being talked at by Diane, if the supersonic speed at which her mouth was moving was anything to go by. Cameron’s face scrunched up. I knew that look.
“Oh God,” I mumbled, swiveling back to Josie. “I better go. How much do I owe you?”
“You can pay for these tomorrow, I have a serious favor to ask,” Josie said, still looking behind me. Her brows rose on her forehead. “Oh. Oh. I think… Diane might be hitting on Cameron?”
I snatched the drinks up and turned around, walking away as fast as I could, and ignoring the laughter rolling out from Josie’s booth. I knew why she laughed. She thought I was jealous. I wasn’t. Cameron and I were… a team, of sorts, I guessed. We were partners. Coworkers. I owed him. Yes, that was what was making me speed up. Not Diane’s flirting with him.
It took Cameron’s eyes a few seconds to find me in the short distance. He widened them. Hurry up, he seemed to silently beg.
Diane seemed totally oblivious to his visible discomfort. And as I neared them, all that urgency faded and gave way to… amusement.
I rolled my eyes at him. Grow up, I sent him through the invisible line we were communicating through.
Understanding crossed his face. Then a corner of his lips tilted up, Make me.
Smug, competitive man, I thought. And he seemed to catch that, too, because he smiled at me. And I blushed.
When I reached them, I was so distracted, I could hardly take in Diane’s words. Something about her divorce or a hose that needed checking at her house.
“There’s an emergency,” I announced. Diane’s voice came a stop. “And I need Cameron.” Cameron’s smile widened. “Most urgently.” Most urgently? God, Adalyn.
Cameron cleared his throat, but I knew it was to cover a snort.
Diane laughed awkwardly. “Can’t you grab someone else? I was about to explain to Cam how important it is for Chelsea to keep a balance between her ballet lessons and soccer practices.”
I frowned. Was she? I swore she’d said something about a hose and her ex-husband. Cameron’s eyes, still on me, widened in warning. “I’m afraid the emergency can’t wait.” I schooled my face into a stern expression. “There’s been an accident. By the cheese stand.” Diane’s expression turned skeptical. “They need Cameron. Specifically. Because of his knowledge of… soft cheeses. Particularly.”
“Soft cheeses?” Diane blinked.
“Mozzarella,” I said. “And… Brie. Ricotta, also maybe feta. You know, cheeses that are soft and/or crumble when—”
“I think we better go,” Cameron intervened. “To check on the, hmm, soft cheese emergency in person. It sounds important.” I nodded my head. “And I would hate for the cheeses that crumble, in particular, to crumble too hard.”
“But—” Diana started.
But Cameron’s arm was snaking around my shoulders, his paw-like hand falling on my side, and turning us around and away. He lowered his voice, his head coming down, so close to my ear that I felt the words fall on my skin. “Christ, darling.” He moved us along, away from Diane. “Soft cheeses? You couldn’t think of anything better?”
“That woman makes me nervous.” I shoved Josie’s take-out cup into his hands. “A Campfire Fizz, for you.”
He hummed deep in his throat, and I couldn’t help but notice how we were walking with his arm around my shoulders.
I didn’t complain. “It’s one of Josie’s seasonal drinks. I got a Cocoa Apple Heart for myself.” I lifted the whipped cream-topped cup and took a long swig. “Whoa.”
“Good?” he asked.
“It’s actually great,” I answered, the swirl of flavors bringing me unexpected comfort. I eyed Cameron’s drink and thought of Josie’s words. “Try yours. It better be good because it cost me a serious favor, whatever that meant.” I paused. “It’s a little token of appreciation. A thank-you. For the office. And for everything else, really.” I lifted my head, glancing at his profile. The corner of his lips was twitching. No. I couldn’t survive another grin. Not at the speed we were walking. I returned my eyes to the unpaved way ahead of us. “Don’t look so smug. You needed saving like a minute ago.” I felt myself frown. “Was she… really flirting with you?”
Cameron picked up the pace, his arm now secured around me, and his hand resting on my waist. “Are you jealous?”
I didn’t respond.
I could feel—sense, thanks to my Cameron Caldani sixth sense, which had now developed—that he was smiling. Big. Knowingly.
I was about to call him out on it when Diane called from behind us, “Hello? The cheese stand is right there! You’ve walked past it!”
“Oh God,” I muttered, stealing a glance back. “She’s chasing after us.”
“Your ankle okay or should I throw you over my shoulder?”
“Huh?”
“Fuck it,” he said. And in a quick maneuver I could have never anticipated, I was up in his arms. Drinks intact.
“Cameron—” I started, grabbing on to his jacket with one hand and holding my drink with the other. I spotted Diane over his shoulder. Her index finger was up in the air, her pace increasing. “Okay, I think it’s time to run.”
Cameron took off then, laughter rolling straight out of him, dark and rich and beautiful. Making his chest vibrate against my body with the sound. He made a sudden turn to the left, and honest to God, a giggle came out of me. The man who was now sprinting through the space between two stands rasped out something between a chuckle and a curse in response, and finally rounded a big truck that was parked a few yards away.
He came to a stop behind it, next to the truck’s bed, which was filled with hay and provided a good cover. He peeked his head out, probably checking to see if we were still being chased.
When he faced me, my chest was heaving with my breath. My heart pounded with adrenaline that had little to do with the sprint and everything to do with the man who still had me in his arms.
Time seemed to slow, thicken, as he lowered me to my feet, a wave of very different emotions crashing into me when my boots touched the ground.