“Lydia and I are going to be pen pals.” She beamed as Cam gave a resigned sigh.
“So I heard.”
Lydia stumbled to her feet and grabbed her bag from the floor. She brushed some dust off her pants and waved as Maddie scurried off to class. “Are you actually going to write to her? Or am I going to be consoling a heartbroken little girl as she realizes her new ‘friend’ doesn’t have time for her?”
Lydia stepped back. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even yelling. And yet, those words were as paralyzing as venom. “I mean it when I say I want to email with her. But I can’t promise that I won’t get busy.”
Cam shook his head. “The way she looks at you, it’s like… like when she used to look at her mo—”
Panic rose in her chest like a rapidly rising tide. “I have research to do,” Lydia cut him off, scrambling for her bags and backing for the door. Oh, God. Was he about to compare her to Hannah? The walls were closing in and all of Lydia’s clothes suddenly felt far too tight.
Surprise flashed across his eyes. “Oh, okay. Maybe tonight we could—”
“Wow, is that the time? I need to get some of these proofs over to my editor. I’ll see you back at the house.” Lydia called over her shoulder as she rushed for the door. It slammed shut behind her and she fell against it, resting her head there for just a moment. A sea of children buzzed around her in the halls getting to their next classes and ducking their heads into lockers. Was he really seeing her as motherly? Even after she told him how she couldn’t have kids?
From the other side of the door, she heard Cam’s voice. “Mike, I gotta go. An order came in wrong down at one of my sites.” Lydia pushed her weight off the door, rushing for the front of the building, happily leaving her rental car in the lot. It was the perfect freezing January day for a walk to escape Cam’s piping hot gaze.
‡
Chapter Thirteen
Lydia wandered around Maple Grove, snapping establishing shots of the town on the brisk walk. In a way, a small way, it reminded her of New York. Lots of privately owned businesses, most things within walking distance. It was like if you scaled down her own neighborhood and made it its own little village.
The town itself was like one of those web graphs think-tankers use. The main businesses were in the center circle with streets that shot off like spider legs. These were the homes and neighborhoods. The elementary school sat on the edge of the town circle, next to an antique store and the public library.
A couple of blocks down, about two buildings away from the inn, was a small camera store. After the short walk—a walk where several strangers smiled and waved and acted as though they were all old friends—she switched out her existing memory card for a new one, handing it to the man behind the counter. “Could I get these printed both as a contact sheet and proofs?” He was young, thin, with a friendly-looking vibe, and black rectangular glasses hanging at the edge of his nose. Curly chestnut hair curved around his ears as he gave Lydia a grin.
“Certainly.” He jotted some notes onto an envelope and tucked the memory card inside. “Should be ready for you within thirty minutes.”
“Wow. That’s fast.”
The guy shrugged. “With the residency, we make it a priority when things come in.”
“I hope they appreciate that,” she said. “And I hope they don’t get too used to it. In the real world, most places don’t cater to your needs so readily.”
He chuckled, pushing his glasses higher onto the bridge of his nose. “Welcome to Maple Grove.”
“Speaking of the residency… is it possible for me to see inside? Have a look around?”
“Unfortunately, they don’t allow press inside without prior permission. But if you want to photograph the exterior, it’s just up the hill here.”
“How’d you know I was press?”
He gave a good natured snort. “Are you kidding? Everyone in this town knows who you are by now.” He tore the edge slip off the envelope, handing it to her. “Thirty minutes.”
Even though Lydia had every intention of just taking a quick walk around town to photograph, when she next checked her phone for the time, two hours had passed. Where was she? It wasn’t a large town by any means, but she couldn’t even see the flagstaff from the grammar school any more. A block ahead, there was a Coming Soon sign for some sort of coffee and pastry shop. A sign with a cat and dog painted on… Lydia squinted, making out Maple Grove Veterinary Clinic in scripted cursive.
A woman about Lydia’s age with a bouncing ponytail, leash in hand and a yellow lab at her side, strolled her way.
Lydia waved, walking up to them. “Hey there, I’m a little turned around. Can you point me in the direc—oomph!” The lab hopped onto hind legs, his front two paws landing square on Lydia’s chest.
“Oh my God!” The girl reached for the dog’s leash. “Gatsby, no! Bad dog.” She looked to Lydia. “Are you okay?
Two muddy paw prints were stamped directly over her breasts as though the dog had gotten a little frisky. Lydia waved the girl’s concern away. “Oh, I’m fine. Nothing a little club soda can’t fix.” Hell, if it hadn’t been the dog, it would have been something else. Lydia was a magnet for spilled drinks and dirt.
“Let me at least get you some towels to clean off.”
“Actually, if you could just point me in the direction of the photo store… or even Elsa’s, that’s all I need. I can find my way from there.”
The girl grinned, the smile lighting up her already bright face. “I’ll do better than that. I’ll walk you there.” She tilted her head. “C’mon.”
“I’m Lydia,” she said.
“The reporter, I know.”
Good, lord. That guy wasn’t joking… word traveled fast around these parts. Lydia tilted her chin to the bright blue sky, the color reminding her of Cam’s eyes. “This is crazy. Everyone around here already knows who I am.”
The girl smiled. “I’m Yvonne, by the way. And I know how you feel. We moved here when I was in high school, and within a day everyone knew my name, where we had moved from, that I was a cheerleader and on the honor roll… it was like they had my entire history in a newsletter.”
“But I’m not moving here. I’m just in town for a week.”
Yvonne arched a brow. “The Tripps are royalty in this town. If you’re with them, you’re going to be the center of gossip.” Her voice faded as though she knew from experience.
Gatsby barked from between them, looking up at Lydia with large, brown eyes. Lydia gave his nose a playful tap. “Don’t you get any ideas, dog.”
*
Cam leaned back in the wooden chair, tipping it back on two legs as his brother snickered across from him. Steve tossed his tie over his shoulder, leaning in to take a bite of his club sandwich. “You watched her changing through her window? Wow, kind of creepy, Cam.”
“I wasn’t watching her,” Cam corrected, sipping his coffee. “I happened to see her.”
“If you say so. But if you ask me, it sounds like you’ve got a little crush.”
Emotion tugged on his guts and Cam pushed his plate away, no longer hungry. “Teenagers get crushes.”
“Then what would you call it?”
“Nothing. I would call it nothing because that’s exactly what it is. Besides, she didn’t seem interested at all today.” Or more accurately, she had run away from him as fast as she could when he attempted to ask her out.
Steve chewed on a fry, studying Cam. Finally, he shrugged. “Well, how’s the rest of the auction coming along?”
“I don’t know. Fine, I guess. I can’t believe Hannah’s been gone for two years. It feels like yesterday and forever ago at the same time.” He knew that probably made no sense. And yet, it was true. Like how water can be presented as both solid and liquid, time was both moving at a rapid rate, while looking back, it felt like a lifetime since he had held Hannah in his arms.
They ate in silence until Steve finally leaned back, piling his silverware and nap
kins onto his empty plate. “You want my advice?”
Cam lifted an eyebrow. “About?”
“This Lydia chick. I say go for it. If you ask her out and she says no… so what? She’s leaving in a few days. Then at least, you’ll have gotten that first step out of the way and it’ll be easier to ask someone else out when you’re ready.”
Cam swallowed another bite of burger. But was he ready? He didn’t think he so… until he was in front of Lydia. And then all the questions and worries and what ifs took a backseat to a carnal desire. “Maybe. Doesn’t change the fact that she’s a journalist, though.”
“Maybe she’ll be the one to finally prove to you and this whole damn family that not all reporters are bad,” he offered.
Cam kneaded his temples. “Since when did you become the family optimist?”
His brother gave a half-hearted shrug. “Someone’s gotta pick up your slack.”
Lila came over, pot of steaming coffee in hand, the other tucked inside her apron pocket casually. “More coffee?”
“You know it,” Steve winked, his playboy grin widening as dimples flanked the corners of his mouth.
“Thanks, Lila,” Cam said. “You know, you talk a big game, Steve. But I haven’t seen you date anyone seriously for years. When are you going to get back out there?”
“Oh, I’m out there,” he said, taking a sip of coffee.
“Not sex. A relationship.” Cam studied his brother’s face. He used to be so tuned in to him that he could tell just from the way he chewed the inside of his cheek if he was upset. The scar that began at his temple went all the way down to the corner of his mouth. It had become such a part of Steve, that Cam hardly noticed it. It was only in moments like this one, when he was trying to read Steve, that he even saw it anymore.
“I’m not in any rush, man. I’m pretty happy with my life right now.” But was he? Oh, sure, Steve was doing a good enough job in pretending, but up until Hannah’s death, he was always so cynical. And now, Cam didn’t doubt that he was content… but that and happy were two very different things.
Outside the window, a familiar laugh caught Cam’s attention. He looked up to find Lydia outside talking with Yvonne. Cam felt his body tense as he looked over Steve’s shoulder at the two girls outside. “So, if Yvonne were to say, walk in right now, you’d have no problem saying hello, smiling, and laughing. Because you’re happy right? It’s not like seeing her would send you into another guilt spiral.”
With the mere mention of Yvonne’s name, Steve’s face darkened. Lines which were just creased with a smile curved into a frown. He shot a look over his shoulder and cursed under his breath. The chair beneath him groaned as he stood, easily mimicking Steve’s own grunt of disapproval, and he grabbed some money from his back pocket, tossing it to the table. “I have to get back to the clinic. I’ve got back-to-back patients this afternoon.”
“Aw, c’mon, your patients are animals. I’m sure they won’t care if you finish your coffee first.”
But Steve either didn’t hear him or didn’t care. He was already slipping through the side door into the connecting Maple Grove Inn, leaving through the other exit. Cam shook his head and when he looked up, hoping for another glimpse of Lydia, she was no longer outside the window, but standing right in front of him. She slipped out of her leather coat, draping it on the back of the chair. Though she was in the exact same outfit as earlier, it was more relaxed than now; the normal wear of hours in the day loosening the fabric’s grip on her body. Her cheeks were flushed red due to the frosty weather, and her hair, though still glossy and smooth was flipped over to one side as though a gust of wind had tossed it around. Her slate gray button down shirt clung to her svelte curves and Cam’s heart, already slamming against his chest, lurched.
Without waiting for an invitation, Lydia sat across from him, waving at Lila. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I told Maddie I’d help her with her piece for the auction. She said to meet her here after school.”
Huh. She didn’t mention that to him. “No, I meant, what are you doing here. What with those proofs that had to get out to your editor immediately?” Cam’s face flushed hot at the lame excuse and the memory of her running away from him a few hours earlier. The mere possibility of him asking her out had her running for the hills. Man, he really was rusty at this whole dating thing.
Lydia tilted her head, offering him a sheepish grin. “The pictures are right here. I’ll head back to the cottage soon to scan and send.” She pulled an envelope out of a plastic bag and waved a stack of prints.
“May I?”
Lydia passed him the stack of pictures as Lila poured them each a fresh cup of coffee. She watched him from over the lip of her coffee cup as he looked through the pictures. The rich brown in the coffee reflected in the flecks of gold in her eyes.
He flipped through the first stack of images, pausing at an image of Maddie grinning for the camera. The images varied between posed pictures of he and Maddie smiling at the camera, and candid shots of them around town and in the school. He paused, the glossy proof smooth against his thumb. He was sitting here in Elsa’s in the picture and he recognized it from the day before. Sitting by the window. Sipping coffee. Damn, he looked exhausted. He had his forehead dropped into his hand as he slumped over his plate. “Wow,” he chuckled, holding the image up. “I don’t consider myself to be a vain person, but please God, do not use this image.” He looked rougher than sandpaper.
She took the images from him and tucked them back into her bag with a smirk. “You expect me, a journalist, to honor your wishes?” She gave an exaggerated eye roll. “I thought you didn’t trust a journalist as far as you could throw them.”
He leaned forward on his elbows and Lydia did the same. Their noses were almost close enough to touch across the small cafe table. He inhaled deeply. Holy hell did she smell good… the faint scent of perfume just before it faded away entirely. It was flowery and feminine, but not overly sweet. “Luckily, you’re petite… I think I could probably throw you at least a few feet; far enough to trust you a little.” Of all the journalists he’d met and seen, Lydia seemed the most honest. At least based on her portfolio. Other than this gig at the City Star, it seemed like she’d mostly reported on large stories. Stories that needed the attention of mainstream media in order to gain traction. Stories that, with her help, could make a difference. And that was something he could respect the hell out of.
They were still close enough to nearly touch. And instead of putting his hands over hers, he placed them around his coffee mug as she let out a breath that was warm and smelled of mint and mocha.
That smirk of hers climbed higher. “Very well. I promise not to use that image.”
He took some pleasure in the fact that her voice was raspy and her hands tightened around the coffee cup. Was he just reading her all wrong? Her body language seemed to display that she wanted him, too. But this morning when he went to ask her out, she fled like a spooked cat.
Standing, Cam placed a twenty on the table. “I have to get back to work for a couple more hours. I’ll pick Maddie up here at five.”
“Why don’t I just bring her home with me? I’m going back to your place anyway, basically.”
Cam froze, stuffing his wallet back into his pocket. “You wouldn’t mind?” He had so much work to catch up on… as great as the auction was, it ate into the time he usually spent on his job.
“Not at all. We’ll hang here, I’ll get her some dinner and have her back home by six. Does that work?”
Cam exhaled. Other than his mother or a random sibling helping out now and then, he hardly remembered how easy the co-parenting thing could be compared to being a single dad. Having someone else cook while you bathed a kid? Or one of you helped with homework while the other cleaned… it made life easier. But doing it all simply meant that some things slipped through the cracks. And in his life? Those things were work, friends, and any semblance of a social life. “That would be
amazing. I’d owe you one.”
“You can make it up to me by smiling pretty for the camera tomorrow.”
“You got it.” Sliding his arms into his coat, he pushed out the front door and walked toward his truck. Whatever this was… this chemistry he had with Lydia was real. It was palpable. And it was scary as hell. Because it didn’t matter if his brain was ready to move on… his body sure as hell was.
‡
Chapter Fourteen
That evening, Lydia finished up dinner with Maddie a little before six. As much as she wanted to help mentor her, Maddie had distinctly avoided revealing what her photograph was. She desperately wanted it to be a surprise for everyone in the family, but couldn’t figure out how to display it. So instead, after dinner, Lydia took Maddie to see the guy over at the one hour photo store.
Afterwards, she got Maddie home in time to finish her homework and get ready for bed while Lydia slipped into her cottage to scan and send Mara her images, specifically avoiding her notes for the story. Once her heartwarming tale of this family healing through charity work was finished, she was certain that even Mara, the ice queen, wouldn’t be able to say no to it. It would be the perfect way to make their magazine more human; more relatable. And with Mistress Vine coming, it would have just enough celebrity splash to be relevant in their magazine.
Closing her laptop, Lydia leaned back in the chair Cam made as a boy. Yes, it was a little lopsided. And one armrest was larger than the other. But if she turned her head just right and closed her eyes, she could almost feel him in the chair. She ran her hands along the smooth wood, her fingers hitting a knot. It was blemished; unique. Smooth, but with an underlying graininess. Just like Cam.
There was a knock at the door, and even though Lydia wasn’t expecting anyone, she didn’t feel surprised. Pushing off the uneven arms, she opened the door to reveal a tense Cam. His back was turned, almost like he had changed his mind and was about to walk away.
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