Chapter Five

As far as main streets went, Rustic Creek Main Street had it going on. Quaint shops. All kinds of restaurants. Modern architecture with hints of historic preservation. Large square planter boxes overflowing with greenery spaced every few hundred feet. All of it surrounded by rolling hills and a vast holding of bright emerald trees. Reese walked down the sloped street with two shopping bags in her hand and smiled at passersby. She’d found a cute salt and pepper set to add to her collection from Made by Hand, and bought some cute notecards from Vintage, a furniture and accessory store. Both store owners remembered her and chatted like no time had passed. She counted herself extremely lucky to have made friends in Rustic Creek, no matter how often she visited.

“Reese Resnick, you are prettier than I remember,” a man with thick white hair and a friendly face said as he walked toward her.

“Henry! Hi! How are you?” She took his arm in hers as he spun around to walk beside her. He still didn’t look a day over sixty, but last summer he’d celebrated his eightieth birthday with a backyard barbecue at Pixie and Paul’s. Reese had seen the pictures.

“I’m better now. I heard you were coming for a visit. Pixie is over the moon to have you here. She told the whole town you were coming.”

A warm, fuzzy feeling engulfed Reese. Since the day Reese had been adopted at three-years-old, and her new mom had asked Pixie to be godmother, she’d doted on and loved Reese like a proud momma bear. Nancy Resnick and Julia Radcliffe had been best friends since elementary school, and that they both adopted children brought them even closer. “I better steer clear of trouble then.”

“Nah, a little trouble makes life more interesting,” Henry said.

She laughed. “I like the way you think.”

He looked at her and smiled. “Is Cam here, too?” Henry and Cam had a special relationship, given Henry was once a well-known television screenwriter and had mentored Cam for many years.

“He is. I’m sure he’ll be in touch.”

“He better be.” Henry turned his attention back to the sidewalk, a spring in his step as they continued on their way. He moved like a man much younger, prompting Reese to pick up her pace and think back to working out with Cam and Nash.

There had been a minute when she swore Cam looked at her with…longing. The energy swirling between them like static electricity. She’d blinked it away, because what a ridiculous notion. They would never do anything to jeopardize their amazing friendship. Aren’t you doing that now, by colluding with his agent?

“Where you headed?” Henry asked.

“I’m actually meeting Cam at James’s for lunch. Would you like to join us?”

“Can’t today, but tell my grandson and my favorite writer I said hello.”

They stopped in front of a tan brick and wood clapboard building with two large windows and a white door. A hanging sign said Quail & Ale.

“I will. It was nice to see you.”

“You, too, sweetheart.” Henry tipped his head in goodbye and kept on moving.

Reese gave a wave with her free hand and opened the door to the bar.

“Table for one?” a hostess asked.

“Two, actually. Is James working today?”

“He’s behind the bar. Would you like to sit there?”

“Please.” Reese followed the hostess across the light and airy restaurant. Tables and booths filled the room, decorated in shades of blues and browns. There were several wood and chrome accents and stairs that led to a second floor. The woman seated her at one end of the traditional bar.

“Hey, Reese,” James said. “Long time no see. How are you?”

“I’m good. You?” James hadn’t changed at all since she’d last seen him. Short dirty blond hair and a close-cropped beard, hazel eyes, and several leather bracelets on his wrist. His vibe said, Talk to me and I’ll keep your secrets safe.

“I’m great.” He looked around the restaurant. “Is it just you?”

“Cam should be here any minute. He didn’t want to go shopping with me.” She put the two bags on the bar top. “Henry walked here with me and says hello.”

A grin broke out on James’s face. “Did he tell you he’s on a strict no bar food diet?”

“No. Is he sticking to it?” Reese glanced down at the menu James slid her way.

“Only on Tuesdays.”

She laughed. That would be today. “What’s his favorite? I’ll have it in his honor.”

“A BLT on toasted sourdough,” Cam said, arriving at the bar and taking the stool next to hers. “Make it two.” He smelled like soap and clean laundry and 100 percent man, his hair still damp, slight stubble on his jawline. That she noticed so much about him wasn’t necessarily new. The part about liking it more than usual was.

“Hey man,” James said. He and Cam exchanged smiles and fist bumps. Reese could feel how happy they were to see each other.

“Hey. It’s great to see you. The bar’s looking good.”

“Thanks. Get you your usual drink?” Cam nodded. “And for you, Reese?”

“I’ll have the same.” She knew Cam’s favorite and enjoyed it, too.

“As usual you guys are in sync.” James looked back and forth between her and Cam before zeroing in on her with an interest she’d noticed him give lots of girls over the years. Maybe it was her longer hair or her new mascara? Whatever it was, she appreciated the attention, even if James was nothing more than a friend. “If you have time this visit, let’s you and me hang out. Maybe grab dinner?”

Cam scowled at his friend. “Reese is off-limits to you.”

“Shouldn’t that be up to the pretty lady?”

James might be serious, or he might be playing with Cam. Probably the latter. About to speak for herself, Cam spoke first. “Dude. I saved your life and this is one of those times I’m cashing in on your indebtedness.”

“You saved his life?” she asked. “I haven’t heard that story.”

“You can’t forget about Bad Breath Bowman can you?” James pulled a face of anguish and shook his head.

“What happened?” Reese asked.

“This bozo got himself stuck in a tree,” Cam said with fondness. “I helped get him down before Izzie Bowman showed up with a ladder and blackmail on her mind.”

Reese chuckled. “How old were you guys?”

“Eleven,” James said.

“And what did Izzie want from you?”

“My first kiss.”

“With tongue,” Cam added.

Reese laughed. “She had you right where she wanted you, huh?” Reese had thought about asking Cam, Nash, or Gael to be her first kiss, but being squarely in the little sister box had squashed that idea. Instead, her first kiss had been with Joey Monahan when she was thirteen. They’d been “dating” for a week, and every day she practiced kissing on the back of her hand. She thought their first kiss should be lips only, but he had other ideas. He also had zero skill and shoved his tongue down her throat the second after they connected. It was wet, sloppy, and gross, and the reason she didn’t kiss anyone else until she turned sixteen.

“Pretty much,” James said. “Until Cam saved me. We never figured out why Izzie had dragon breath but I was sure, at the time, it would kill me.” Someone down the bar pulled his attention. “Reese, I was serious about that dinner.”

She didn’t know what to make of James’s sudden interest, but she did know she wasn’t ready for a new romance or even a summer fling. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m actually still getting over a breakup, so…”

“Understood. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

As soon as James stepped away, she stared at Cam. Hard.

“What?” he asked, all innocent-like.

“James is a great guy. Why can’t I go on a date with him if I want to?”

“Trust me. I’m doing you a favor,” he said, toeing the line between protectiveness and…jealousy. Weird. But it also gave her tingles on the back of her neck. To think Cam wanted to keep her for himself, especially after her most recent breakup, tugged at her feminine sensibilities.

“Because…”

“Because he doesn’t get serious about anyone.”

“Sounds like you.” She grinned. Try another excuse, buddy.

“And you don’t live here.”

“Are you saying I can’t have a fling while I’m here?” She was teasing and they both knew it, but for some reason she wanted to poke the bear.

His eyes moved down to the bar top. “Would you want to?”

That he avoided looking at her made this conversation all the more interesting. He didn’t normally shy away from her. His tone, composed and curious, brought back the intriguing, sexual energy between them and all of a sudden there were tingles on top of her tingles. She had the unexpected sureness that he was asking for himself. The last woman Cam had dated turned out to be a total bitch and liar. Was he just lonely and turning to someone he knew he could trust to fill a physical need?

Only at this moment, you’re not trustworthy.

She was also reading way more into this little exchange than was there. She blamed her hopeful heart. She liked being in a relationship. She loved love.

“Don’t be silly!” She waved her hand in dismissal to steer them away from the weird sensation filling the small amount of space between them. “I’ve got too much work to do this month. Speaking of, did you get some writing done this morning?” The question hurt, her stomach knotting in dread because of the stipulation behind her honest inquiry.

James returned with their drinks. “Two iced teas with a splash of lemonade. Your sandwiches should be right up.”

Reese smiled at him. He smiled back. Cam grumbled.

“I’m going to take that grumbling as a ‘no’ to the writing.”

Cam ran a hand through his hair. Once again, she loved the new wavy texture of it. “Leo called this morning to ask me about it and we’re not on the same page.”

“What do you mean?” She turned to give him her full attention, her knees touching his thigh.

“He’s telling me the studio is threatening to go with another screenwriter if I don’t give them what they want, but I swear Deena told me she’d be interested in whatever I wrote.”

“Deena?”

“The studio exec.”

“I thought you had to write another action film.”

“I do, technically, but—”

“Let me help you get it done.” The knot in her gut tightened even though she sincerely and whole-heartedly wanted to help him, not Leo.

“Here you go.” James delivered their food, putting a plate in front of each of them. “And hey, there’s going to be live music on the rooftop bar on Sunday nights so make sure you guys plan to attend one of them at least.” He knocked on the bar and walked away to help other customers. The lunch crowd had filled the bar in the last few minutes, most barstools taken and tables occupied.

Reese took a long sip of her drink to give Cam a little more time to consider her help. The one thing she wouldn’t do was force him to do anything.

“It might help to write in the guesthouse,” he said.

“Done,” she said quickly. “And by the way, it wasn’t my idea to stay there.”

“I know.” Cam lifted his BLT. “I’m pretty sure my mom plans to escape the house to stay with you.”

“There is a lot of testosterone under your roof.” She managed to get her mouth around her fully loaded sandwich to take a bite. Delish.

They ate in easy silence for a couple of minutes.

“Is there anything else I can do?” she asked. “I am a professional script reader now, you know. I could read your pages, offer feedback or ideas. We could do some sprints.”

“We?”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll write a screenplay this month, too.”

“During all your free time,” he pointed out. A hint of a smile tugged at his full mouth and she wiggled in her seat, happy about the direction of their conversation.

Shoulders back, chin lifted, she said, “What? Like it’s hard?”

He almost choked on his food. “Did you just Legally Blonde me?”

“I did.” She raised her eyebrows in challenge. This was it! A way for the two of them to work together toward his goal. They loved challenging each other and holding friendly competitions. They did it with pickleball and the crossword puzzle in the back of the TV Guide and the number of times Nash would throw a touchdown during his games, to name but a few.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all. You know I love movies as much as you do. I think I could do it. Especially if it gets your butt in gear.”

“What are we talking?” The glint in his eye filled her with satisfaction.

“You tell me.” His end game mattered, nothing else. Well, her job mattered. A lot. But she liked him in the driver’s seat on this one.

“Okay, we’ve each got twenty-one days to write a screenplay. Page count needs to be between ninety and one-hundred-and-twenty pages. No typing ‘go ahead, make my day’ or any other famous line over and over again to fill the pages.”

“I would never.” She would.

“Yes, you would.”

He eyed her with affection and familiarity, and she had to look away.

“You sure you’ve got time to do this with all the scripts you need to read?”

“For you, definitely.” She plucked a small piece of bacon out of her sandwich and popped it in her mouth.

“What’s on the line?” he asked kindly.

Your job.

“How about if you finish and I don’t, I buy you dinner at Mastro’s.” He loved the fancy steakhouse. “And if I finish and you don’t, you send me to a spa for the day.”

“And if we both finish?” His voice, a rich, deep mix of interest and playfulness put quivers in her stomach.

Then we have sex. Oh my God! Where had that unbidden thought come from? She took a quick drink to cool her jets. Sex did not belong in the same category as her best friend. There was more at stake than just their friendship; his family was beyond important to her, too. “Then we both win!”

“You really think you can do this?”

With so much on the line, she had to. “I can do anything you can do.”