Chapter Thirteen

Cam leaned back in the desk chair and laced his fingers behind his head. He’d locked himself away and once again written more pages the past few hours than he had in a while. Screenplays weren’t lengthy by any means, but that meant every single page had to count, and what he’d just re-read had a small sense of relief coursing through him. It was progress.

Something had finally clicked.

Maybe he wanted to get the writing challenge with Reese over with. Or maybe she inspired him to write better, to prove to everyone what he was capable of; that he had range beyond action films.

Yeah, that was it.

Thanks to her, he’d decided to go with his heart. Her enthusiasm for life was contagious and she pushed and prodded in such a friendly way that the minute his fingers hit the keyboard, he remembered how much he loved to write. He didn’t second-guess himself. Just let the words flow. The story had been percolating for a while and being home—with Reese—proved to be the catalyst he’d needed.

The door to the library opened and Nash strode in. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re right. I’m not. Gael and I thought we’d hit James’s bar later. You in?”

“Sure.” A good time with his brothers sounded like a great idea given he felt more in control of his writing.

Nash itched the back of his head. “That was easy.”

“I’ve got a few hours to change my mind.”

“Gotcha. Well, get back to it, Sir Writes-A-Lot.” Nash waved over his hulking shoulder and left.

Not ten minutes later, Gael walked in, also without knocking. “Check it out.” He gestured down his front. “I found it on eBay.”

The Earth, Wind & Fire shirt looked exactly like their lucky shirt. “You know it’s not automatically lucky, right?”

“Give me two days to turn this baby into a lucky charm.”

That would leave Cam time to snag it and reap its rewards if he needed it. “If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

“How’s the writing going?” Gael sat in the leather armchair by the window and got comfortable with his feet up on the matching ottoman.

“It’s going.”

His brother stared at him.

“Something else on your mind?”

“Just putting out the good luck vibes so you can get more writing done.”

Cam appreciated the sentiment, however… “Can you stop looking at me?”

“Sure.” Gael closed his eyes. The guy looked so relaxed and calm it unsettled Cam to the point of distraction. Gael had a car to restore. Work at the garage. Why wasn’t he stressing about his obligations?

After ten minutes and zero new pages, Cam said, “I appreciate the camaraderie, but it’s not working.”

“Yet.” Gael slowly opened his eyes. “But I hear you.” He got to his feet and gave a salute on his way out of the room.

Not even a minute after the door shut behind him, it opened again. “Hey, honey,” his mom said, walking toward the desk with a glass of what looked like iced coffee in her hand. “Thought you mind need a pick-me-up.”

“Thanks.” He’d love a side of privacy with the drink, but he didn’t think his mom would appreciate the sentiment. Should have moved this to the guesthouse.

“You look stressed. Can I bring you a snack?”

He took a large gulp of the cold caffeine fix. He’d be a lot less stressed if his family left him alone. Don’t forget how lucky you are to have them, Cam.

Putting the glass down, he glanced at the clock on the bookshelf. He’d missed breakfast. He missed a lot of meals when writing. “Whatcha got?” It made his mom happy when he ate.

“I’m glad you asked. I just finished baking some cinnamon rolls as a trial run for the Founder’s Day breakfast. Can I bring you one?”

He’d walked right into that, darn it. His nose should have warned him. Pixie did everything well. She gave herself wholeheartedly to the town, her friends, and her family. If there was such a thing as a cooking gene, though, it had skipped her.

“I’m happy to try one.” How badly could she mess up a cinnamon roll?

“Great. Be right back.” She left the library door open, allowing for the sound of voices to float to his ears. His forehead hit the desk next to his laptop. His page count didn’t stand a chance under his current circumstances.

Confirmed when his dad said, “Hey, son.”

Cam lifted his head. “Hey.”

“I just came to warn you about the cinnamon rolls.” He cupped his hand around his mouth. “They taste like spicy sand and cardboard. I don’t know how your mom does it.”

“Does what?” she asked cheerfully, the hazardous breakfast food on a napkin in her hand.

They’d tried to discourage her from baking over the years, they truly had, and yet she kept at it. She didn’t give up; a notable quality he liked to think she passed on to him.

Pixie looked between Cam and his dad. “Oh, I get it. You told our son they taste like dirt and you’re wondering where my talent comes from.”

The three of them exchanged lighthearted looks and smiles before nodding in camaraderie.

Cam stood from behind the desk and motioned for his mom to pass him the cinnamon roll. He broke a piece off and put it in his mouth. Dirt probably tasted better.

“You should stick to decorating,” he said, trying to swallow the bite without any fuss. There was a reason she headed all of the decoration committees.

“Oh, for goodness sake.” She pulled a section off the roll and tasted it. She gave it the old college try before spitting it out into her free hand and saying, “That is terrible. I don’t understand where I went wrong with the recipe.”

“Did you read it?” Cam teased. His mom liked to wing things. Case in point: the time she put together his scooter and it fell apart on the first ride.

“I will neither confirm nor deny.”

Dad chuckled and then kissed her cheek. “You’re the best. I’m off to the golf course. See you later.”

His mom collapsed into the leather chair vacated by Gael. “I need to change my baking image and I know just the girl to help me do it.”

Reese.

“I’m sure she’d love to,” he said.

“Not today, though.” She straightened with renewed vigor. “Would you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Would you run to Archie’s and get me some Anzac biscuits? Reese and I are having a slumber party tonight and I want to bring the fixings for Aussie ice cream sundaes to go along with our Chris Hemsworth movie marathon.”

Anzac biscuits were an Australian cookie that he knew Reese loved. He saved his work and shut his laptop. Saying “no” to his mom wasn’t in his vocabulary. Not to mention the Reese factor. “Need anything else?”

“I’d love some wildflowers.” She gave him the smile that said, Thank you, I love you, please do what you’re told all rolled into one.

This meant walking to Archie’s instead of driving. “Got it.” He came around the desk. “Why do I feel like I’m forgetting something?”

“It’s Reese’s Gotcha Day.” In an unusual twist of fate, Pixie and Reese’s mom had both adopted almost exactly a year apart. Nancy first, when Reese was three, and Pixie twelve months later, when he, Nash, and Gael were seven.

“That’s it.” Reese always celebrated with her parents, but since they weren’t here, she had her godmother. And by the look of pure joy on his mom’s face, she was thrilled to have the honor. Another reminder of the close bond between them.

…

“Promise us you’re going to go to the bakery in town to buy a cupcake,” Reese’s mom said on FaceTime.

“I’m on my way there next.” Reese wiped at the corner of her eye. She knew she’d miss not being with her mom and dad today, but she hadn’t expected it to make her weepy.

Her parents each held up a cupcake. Vanilla with bright pink frosting, sprinkles, and an edible “25” on top to celebrate her adoption twenty-five years ago today. “To our beautiful, thoughtful, kind, loyal daughter,” her dad said. “We love you.”

“Love you!” her mom chimed in.

“I love you, too.” She blinked back the well of emotion in the back of her eyes. If she cried, then her mom would cry, and it would be a big ugly mess. Reese had been placed in foster care as a baby after her birth parents were killed in a car crash. At three-years-old, she’d landed in the care of Nancy and Richard Resnick and the rest was history.

Her parents beamed now, thankfully not noticing the potential for tears. “Now give us a look at where you’re at,” her dad said. “It looks like a new area.”

Grateful to turn the camera away from herself, Reese turned the phone around to give them a panoramic view of the newish walking path lined with trees and wildflowers. They hadn’t been to Rustic Creek in a couple of years and the walking path that Pixie had recommended for a good dose of Mother Nature had been paved only last year. Birds chirped in the overgrown trees. Sunlight poked through thick branches and slashed across the shadows on the dirt road. Her nose tickled, the scent of pine and something fruity hanging in the air. The plaque on the wood bench she sat on read: If one truly loves nature one finds beauty everywhere – Vincent van Gogh.

“It’s gorgeous,” she heard her mom say before turning the screen back around.

“It really is.”

“Morning!” a man on a bicycle called out, riding past her.

“Morning!” Reese reciprocated.

“Who was that?” her dad asked.

“Just someone on a bike.”

“That’s one of the best things about Rustic Creek. Everyone is so friendly,” her mom said. “I can’t wait to visit next weekend.”

“Pixie is excited to see you.”

“I hear the two of you have plans for tonight.”

“A movie-slash-beauty night and sleepover.” Pixie was arriving at the guesthouse with dinner, dessert, and everything needed for a home spa session.

“I’m glad you have your godmother to celebrate this special day with.”

“Me, too. And when you get here, the three of us will do something fun.”

“You bet we will. Do you have anything planned for after the bakery?”

“No, just more script reading.” Sensing movement, she glanced to her left. At the sight of Cam walking down the wide trail toward her, heat climbed up her spine. Stop it. She waved at him.

“Who’s there?” her dad asked.

“Cam.”

“Oh, let us say hello!” her mom half-shouted. She always talked louder than necessary on the phone.

Cam must have heard because he nodded to the bench and said, “That spot taken?”

“It is now.” She scooted over to give him room to sit. Only a hairs breadth separated their bodies on the bench built for two, and she stared at his knees, his khaki shorts giving her a nice view of his strong, taut leg muscles. They’d taken a work break yesterday and laid out by the pool, and there’d been a sunscreen-each-other’s-back moment that she couldn’t stop thinking about. Which explained this awareness of him today, right? His masculine scent with a hint of citrus and his no-show socks and Nikes also did it for her. She was so captivated that when her mom said, “Hi, Cam!” she fumbled the phone in her hands.

He caught it. “Hi, Nancy. Hi, Richard. How are you?”

“We’re great. It’s so nice to see you.”

“You, too. Happy Gotcha Day.” He bumped Reese’s knee with his and held the phone in front of them so they were both in view for her parents. That she and Cam had so much in common from the moment they’d met as kids was a big reason why they connected like they did. Reese didn’t remember her birth parents, but their weirdly similar history had shaped them both and brought them closer. Close enough to know what the other person was thinking without saying a word. Thick as thieves, her mom and Pixie had often said when she and Cam were growing up.

“Thank you! And a belated Happy Family Day to you,” her mom said.

“We all have a lot to celebrate and be thankful for.” Cam handed back her phone, their fingers brushing. A ridiculous zing of electricity shot up her arm and she wished she knew how to control it. Sometime during the last week almost everything about him kept lighting her up. She made a mental note to figure out how to switch it off.

“We do.” Her mom’s warm expression filled the small screen. “Cam, will you do us a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Make sure Reese has some fun this afternoon.”

“Already on it.”

“You are?”

“It’s time I returned the favor.”

“Well, we’ll let you two get on with it, then. Have a wonderful day, sweetheart! We love you!”

“You ready for a little adventure?” Cam asked.

“What did you have in mind?”

“You’ll see.” He stood. “Come on. I have to do an errand for my mom first and you have to pretend you don’t see what I’m buying.”

Reese fell into step beside him down the tree-lined path. “Anzac biscuits?”

“How did you know?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Lucky guess.” They had an Aussie theme going for this evening, so it made sense.

“And remind me on the way back to pick some wildflowers for her.” They passed said flowers, their bright yellow hue like blossoming sunshine.

“I need to run into Scarlett’s bakery and get a cupcake, too. I promised my mom I’d have one today.”

Cam nodded. “It still amazes me sometimes that our pasts are so similar and our moms both ended up adopting children who had lost their parents in tragic accidents.”

“And that our moms were best friends before that.” Reese leaned sideways to give him a playful nudge. “We were destined to be best friends from the get-go.”

He glanced at her. “I guess so.”

“As fate would have it, you are blessed to know me, Cameron Radcliffe.” She gave him a big, cheesy smile then skipped ahead and turned to walk backward. “Not only would I happily help you hide any bodies, I’m also the president of your fan club.”

His brows shot up. “My fan club?”

“Yes, it’s called the Radiacs.” She’d just made that up on the fly.

He laughed. “Don’t let Nash hear that name, he’ll be jealous.” Nash went by the nickname Rad in the NFL.

“He knows where my heart lies.” The words were out before she could take them back. Normally, not a big deal, but with the new sexual tension between them, it sounded like a confession. Not to mention Nash was clearly not on board with any sort of budding romance. “I mean, he knows we’ve always been super close. Friends forever and all that.”

“Incoming!”

Surprised by the shout, she spun around. A dozen—possibly more—unicycle riders came around the curve in the path. They were dressed in colorful clothing and holding NERF launchers. Riders fired at each other, caught the neon orange balls with their bare hands, and reloaded. All while keeping their balance and moving forward. Some even twirled their launchers like Tom Cruise twirled bottles of alcohol in Cocktail.

She stood there transfixed by this wonderful display of athleticism and fun, grateful for the save from further talk about her heart. Then Cam grabbed her hand and pulled her to safety on the side of the path before she became roadkill. He kept a tight grip on her, like he needed to be sure she remained at his side and didn’t accidentally step back into the fray. Total best friend maneuver. And really, just his way. He was overprotective with his whole family, not just her—a lingering habit from losing his birth parents.

The group whooshed past them, zigzagging like professionals, balls arcing over heads, funny names being called out.

“What was that?” she asked with wonderment. It took a heck of a lot of coordination to travel like that.

They watched the riders disappear down the road and then Cam let go of her hand. She immediately missed the contact. “From what I overheard my mom saying, that was the Rotary Club. They’re practicing for the Founder’s Day parade.”

“Wow. Is that something new this year?” Her last Founder’s Day had been three years ago.

“I’ve never seen it before either, so yeah.”

“Are you guys in the parade this year?” She’d been jealous as a kid when Cam, Nash, and Gael got to be on a float or in a classic car as part of the annual parade.

“Mom and Dad are. And Nash. Gael and I are sitting it out this year.”

They started walking again. “So, Archie’s Grocery Store, then a cupcake stop and then…”

“Then you’ll just have to wait and see, Miss Have Some Patience.”

“Fine.”

A few minutes later they arrived at the market with a large section dedicated to imports from Australia. Cam bought Anzac biscuits (which she pretended not to see) and when she really wasn’t looking, he bought a set of koala bear salt and pepper shakers.

“Cam,” she said when he handed the small gift to her outside the store. “Thank you. I love them.” She couldn’t wait to add them to her collection of salt and pepper shakers at home.

“I don’t think you’ve got a pair like that, right?”

“No.” She held them to her chest in appreciation and affection. “These are my first marsupials.”

He smiled at that and her toes actually curled inside her sneakers. That had never happened before and without thought she gave him her best smile back. His gaze dipped to her mouth and lingered there before moving back to her eyes. “I like being your first for some things.”

She liked it, too.

And if they weren’t careful, those things could turn decidedly less friendly.