“You’re wool gathering.”
Norah looked up at the accusation, noting the mix of amusement and concern in her companion’s eyes. He flashed an easy smile in response to her sheepish expression, and it was a lovely smile. But it wasn’t the one she wanted to see.
“Sorry, Mitch. I’m afraid I’m not the best company.”
“He’s not worth it.”
“Who?” She hoped she didn’t look guilty.
“The shark. He didn’t deserve you.”
“I wasn’t thinking about Pierce.” She’d been thinking of Cam and wondering why he hadn’t been at the New Year’s Day bowl game marathon at his aunt and uncle’s house.
“Have you got some other reason for frowning, sugar?” He leaned back in the booth, arms spread out along the back in a relaxed posture that invited confidences. Norah had reason to know it was, quite often, his default position, part of what made him so appealing. She also knew she could move around to his side of the booth and burrow in for one of his bear hugs, and he’d listen and make outraged noises in all the right places because he cared. She’d always loved that about him. But when she broke her silence, it needed to be with Miranda first.
“You mean other than the fact that I will soon have to return to the land of crappy tea?” She sipped at the perfectly mixed, syrupy beverage in her glass.
“Ah, work then. You know you’re not supposed to think about work when you’re on vacation.”
“And when have you ever known me not to think about work?”
“You’re the poster child for workaholic.”
“It ain’t good for a body to do nothin’ but work.” Mama Pearl, the heart, soul, and very opinionated mouth of Dinner Belles, leaned over to refill the half-empty glass of sweet tea.
“I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.” Norah thought again of Cam. You’re more than your job, he’d said. Then what the hell am I?
“Maybe it’s the good Lord sendin’ you a message to slow down, child. Time you be payin’ attention. It shouldn’t take you three years to come back down to visit family.” The broad, dark face was set in lines of censure.
Norah loved that Wishful was a place where they understood that family was more than blood. “Yes ma’am, you’re absolutely right. Thank you for the pie, by the way. It was fabulous.”
“Maybe you’ll pick better next time.”
“I could hardly pick worse.”
“Need to skip out on all them Yankee boys and come find yourself a good Southern man.”
Mitch stretched his arms wide across the back of the booth. “I keep telling her I’m available. She keeps breaking my heart.”
He was handsome, funny, loyal. They had history. But he just didn’t make her heart race. Unlike his quieter cousin. “I’m pretty sure your heart is made of silly putty and easily mended. You fall in love as often as some men change socks.”
“What can I say? Women are fascinating creatures and there are so many flavors to try.”
Mama Pearl wagged one stubby finger in his face. “One of these days, Mitch Campbell, you gonna find yourself one that ruins you for all others, and we all gonna enjoy the show.”
Norah laughed as Mama Pearl ambled away to another table. “Oh, I would love to be around to see the woman who manages that.”
“You could be. What’s really holding you in Chicago?”
Less than you can imagine. But that was on the list of things she really didn’t want to think about just now. “And what would a high-powered marketing executive do down here?”
“I’m sure you could charm everybody into something. I never met anybody who could say no to you.”
“Oh they exist. They’re just really rare. But seriously, I could work up full marketing campaigns for every business in town in a year—not that most of them would even see the need for my kind of skills—then what? I have an urban skill set.”
“There are urban centers below the Mason-Dixon line. You’d at least be close enough to visit more easily and more often. And we could steal you for Christmas. Miranda told me what happened this year.”
Norah shrugged. “It’s the Burke way. We are our own brand of dysfunction.”
“Which is why we made you an honorary Campbell years ago.”
“Don’t think I don’t appreciate that. Your family means more to me than you can possibly know. But what would my mother do? Dad’s finally moving on. She’s married to her work. I’m not leaving her alone for the holidays.”
“You know perfectly well we’d welcome her with open arms. It’d be good for her.”
Norah tried to imagine her very serious mother in the middle of the usual chaos that defined the Campbells and couldn’t. She and Miranda could carry on a conversation over mutual medical geekage, but what would she say to everyone else? She had no life outside work. Then again, when Norah was in Chicago, neither did she.
Because that, too, trod too close to subjects she wasn’t ready to think about, Norah switched topics. “You ever think about leaving?”
“Not really.”
“That surprises me. You love the city. The energy, the people.”
“I do. But I like home, too. I’ve got a good thing going here. Not a lot of inducement to leave. But for the right job—or the right woman—I might.”
“You’d change your whole life for a woman?”
“Sure. You can always find another job. Love is a much rarer phenomenon. You find it, you best hang on to it.”
She hummed a non-committal note.
“Sorry, sugar. That’s probably still a bit sensitive, yet.”
“Not sensitive at all. I wasn’t in love with Pierce. Not if the mark of love is being willing to change everything for him. If that’s what love is, I’ve never been in love before. I can’t fathom being willing to change my entire career for a guy.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
For other people, maybe. But that wasn’t the kind of stock she came from. Burkes existed for career alone. That’s just the way it was.
~*~
Cam managed to time things so that he was climbing out of his truck about the time Norah stepped out of Dinner Belles with Mitch. Hush leapt out of the truck and made a beeline for her, all wags and Wookie greetings. When she started to jump, Norah held up a hand and gave a command. His enthusiastic pooch actually sat, tail sweeping the sidewalk as she waited for pets and praise. Wonders never ceased.
Cam’s own heart began to gallop as Norah looked up from his dog and shot a wide smile in his direction. Jesus, he hadn’t been this nervous-excited since he’d asked Laura Hollingsworth to junior prom.
Get a grip. Advice that might’ve been good to take before he’d executed acts of Bond-worthy subterfuge with his family in order to find out Norah’s schedule so he could casually run into her in town. He hadn’t been able to wait nine hours before wanting to see her again, but he’d managed to hold off on just showing up at Miranda’s the day after the party. They’d want girlfriend time, and his cousin was not, on any level, a morning person. Besides, he didn’t need to come off as some over-eager schoolboy. Or worse, a pushy, obsessed lunatic. But surely two days was within the realm of reasonable.
“Is this a conspiracy?” She divided the smile between him and Mitch. “The rest of the Campbell clan working to make sure I’m not bored on my vacation while Miranda’s at work?”
“Hey, you know I hate to eat alone.”
“I had to come into town for some errands.” A half lie. Cam had made up errands so he had to come into town.
“Then perhaps you’d let me steal your dog for a few hours.” Hush, leaning against Norah’s legs and looking up in adoration, was clearly on board with that plan.
“That could probably be arranged.”
“I gotta get back to work. You have time to drop Norah off at Miranda’s on your way back to the nursery?”
“Sure.”
“Then unless you object, I’ll leave you in my cousin’s capable hands.”
Yes, please. Cam shoved those hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, working to keep his face neutral.
“I can think of worse company.”
Mitch gave Norah a squeeze. “I’ll see you later, then.”
They stayed silent, both watching as he walked away. When he was out of earshot, Norah tipped her head toward him. “Are you particularly busy at work or can I steal you along with Hush?”
“Are you tryin’ to talk me into playin’ hooky, Miss Burke?”
“I absolutely am. Somebody told me recently I needed to play more.” Though her face was sober, her eyes shone with amusement. “Seemed like good advice.”
“Far be it for me to refuse a lady.” He gestured toward the town green. “Shall we walk?”
They fell into step, Hush prancing a few paces ahead. Cam itched to take her hand, just for the chance to touch her. But this was downtown Wishful. That’d be as good as taking out a billboard declaring his intentions. He didn’t even know what they were yet. He only knew that she was the first woman to truly spark his interest in years and that kiss had been…epic. Today was about finding out if they were on the same page with that interest and, if he was lucky, getting his mouth on her again.
She started to pull ahead of him, legs moving with a brisk efficiency.
“You in a hurry?”
She jerked almost to a stop, then into motion again with her eyes on his feet. “You can take the girl out of the city. But seriously, your legs are a foot longer than mine. You don’t walk, you mosey.”
“Moseying is good when you want to enjoy somebody’s company.”
The noise she made might’ve been a laugh. “I’m out of practice with that, too, I guess.”
Cam couldn’t help himself. He rubbed a hand down her back. “That wasn’t meant as a criticism.”
She shifted ever so slightly into his touch. “I suppose I stay wound pretty tight.”
“Don’t apologize. You’ve got reason to be.” As they walked, he noted the fine lines of strain still around her eyes and guessed she still hadn’t come clean to Miranda about her job. But he said nothing, placing a hand at the small of her back to steer her toward the fountain. “That’s what hooky is for, anyway. Finding your way to unwind.”
“Would you believe I have never played hooky in my life?”
He glanced at her, this type-A, perfectionist overachiever, with a strong moral compass and staunch belief in The Rules, and smiled. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me about you. But rumor has it you’re a quick study for anything you set your mind to.”
“I do have that reputation. So what are the rules of playing hooky?”
“Rule 1: Never feel guilty for playing hooky.”
“Well, I’m not the one legitimately playing hooky today.”
“And I feel not a qualm about it, so we’re good on that front. It’s one of the best parts of being your own boss. Rule 2: Choose your company wisely. You want a partner in crime, not someone who will bail on you if things get dicey.”
She laughed. “And what constitutes dicey for grown ups who don’t have the threat of detention or parents?”
“Woman, there is no statute of limitations on parental disapproval when you live in the same town. Especially not a small town where everybody knows everybody else. Do you have any idea how hard it was getting away with anything when we were teenagers?”
“Somehow, I imagine you and Mitch still managed just fine.”
“Well, necessity is the mother of invention. It was more often me and Tucker McGee and our friend Brody—he’s not here anymore—sometimes Miranda, though she was more goody two shoes. Mitch was three years ahead of us in school.”
“I can’t wrap my brain around what that’s like. Growing up in one place, having friends for that long. I bounced around so much after my parents’ divorce that I didn’t make connections with people. Not really. Not until Miranda. And if she didn’t hang on as tightly as she does, I don’t know if I’d have kept up with her as well as I have. You’re really lucky to have that.” There was no mistaking the expression of longing on her face.
Cam didn’t know what to say. He’d never given a thought to having that foundation to fall back on. It simply was. Friends. Family. Community. You fought with them and fought for them because that’s what you did for what you loved. It hurt him to think she’d never known that, and he wondered what she fought for in their stead, wondered, too, why he was aching for a woman he barely knew.
“We don’t mind sharing.”
That made her smile. “I know. Which is why I’ve shamelessly adopted your entire family.”
“Does that make us cousins in a complicated, Southern sort of way? Because this is Mississippi and we definitely don’t need any more fodder for jokes around here.”
“You mean, like, the fact that there’s still a law on the books that says three women in a room together, barefoot, makes a orgy?”
“What?”
“That was a favorite of ours to laugh about at our sorority house in college.”
“So you’re saying all the fantasies we guys have about sorority houses are true? Pillow fights and sexy pajamas and all?”
Norah waggled her eyebrows at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Cam sank down on the edge of the fountain that dated back to just after the Civil War. He patted the ledge. “Sit.”
He liked the neat way she tucked her legs, even in jeans. She always managed to look put together and elegant, which made him wonder what she’d looked like all mussed up.
“Have you made your wish yet?” He swiveled toward the water so their knees bumped. She didn’t move away.
“My wish?”
“Sure.” Cam dipped his fingers into the few inches of frigid rainwater in the basin. Coins glimmered below the surface. “The fountain itself might not have run for years, but people still make wishes. Don’t tell me after all the years you’ve been coming here, you’ve never made a wish.”
“Never have. I’m much more a If you want something to happen you have to make it happen kind of girl.”
“There’s a lot to be said for self sufficiency and drive. But sometimes you need a little help.”
“Does it work?”
“Mmm, hard to say. When I was sixteen, I wished for a really hot car. Sure enough, I got a hot one all right. The AC never did work in that thing.”
She laughed. “If that’s not clear illustration that you should be careful what you wish for, I don’t know what is.”
“Other folks have had better luck. Uncle Pete came here before he proposed to Aunt Liz and wished she’d say yes. Obviously that worked out.”
Her smile was just a little dreamy. “They’re great together.” She trailed her fingers through the water. “Has the city ever tried to fix it so it’ll run again?”
“’Bout the time I was in middle school, they did a whole big thing trying to replace the copper pipes out to the springs. They figured it had collapsed somewhere in the last hundred and fifty years or so. But the lines were completely intact. They never did figure out what the problem is.”
“Wait, the fountain is supposed to be fed from Hope Springs?”
“Yep.”
“That’s rather poetic, somehow. And sad. Like the fountain dried up as hope in Wishful did.”
“You think Wishful doesn’t have hope?”
She looked around what they could see of Main Street, and Cam wondered what she saw. “I think it’s suffered a lot of economic downturns over time, like lots of small towns.”
“You’re not wrong. We’ve lost a lot of our industry and about a third of our population over the last thirty years.”
“That weighs on you.”
Cam arched a brow.
“You aren’t the only one who’s observant. This is your town. You want to save it.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I do. It’s why I ran for City Council. Well, partly. It started as a means to keep an eye on my mother when she went back to work. Gave me a reason to stop by during the day to check on her without looking like I was checking on her.”
“Did she buy it?”
“Of course not. But turns out I actually like the job. Most of the time. Sometimes it’s really frustrating to be in a position to effect change but not actually be able to change a damn thing.”
“Sounds like you have something to wish for yourself.”
“So I do.” Cam fished a couple of quarters out of his pocket and placed one in Norah’s hand, letting his fingers linger over her palm. “I will if you will.”
“Okay.” Her fingers curled around his briefly before sliding away to wrap around the coin.
When she closed her eyes—probably considering her wording carefully after the warning of his first car—he almost threw caution to the wind and leaned in to kiss her.
Cam pondered his own wish as he watched her, thinking of fate and chemistry and what might’ve happened if they’d crossed paths back in college. He couldn’t alter the past, but he had a lot more confidence in his ability to impact the future—at least on one point. So when she opened her eyes and said, “On three,” it was the town he thought of.
I wish for a miracle to save Wishful.
“One. Two. Three.”
They tossed their coins, watched them hit the water with a soft plunk.
The fountain belched.
Norah jolted and Cam stared as a spurt of water bubbled up from the mouth of the fountain and trickled down the stone. Nothing else. Just that one, short blast of water.
“Does it usually do that?”
“Never has for me before.” Strange. Damned strange. “Must be air in the pipes.” He rose. “C’mon. It’s cold. Let’s go get some coffee.”
~*~
Could I drag Cam into the pantry without anyone noticing?
Norah glanced at the door to the kitchen, wondering what excuse she could concoct to get them both away from the game table. From the other side of the Monopoly board, Cam’s mouth quirked, as if he knew exactly where her thoughts had veered. He probably did. The man had an uncanny ability to read her.
“Community Chest.” Mitch picked up one of the cards. “Get out of jail free card. Sweet! I’ll just hang on to this. Your turn, sister dear.” He passed the dice to Miranda and game play continued around the table.
In all the years she’d been coming home with Miranda, Norah had always appreciated the big, messy Campbell family. After being shuttled from one single-parent household to the other for more than half her life, being surrounded by all of them was like being plunked down in the midst of Cheaper By The Dozen, in the best possible way. She’d never had cause to regret that there were quite so many of them. Until Cam.
By mutual agreement, they’d kept their involvement quiet. The secret was both exhausting and exhilarating. On the surface, Cam was easy with her around his family, adopting a more muted form of the flirtation and teasing she got from Mitch and Reed. But there was nothing muted about the look in his eyes when they met hers and nothing simple about the spark she felt from the brush of his fingers as he handed over the dice. Flustered, Norah struggled not to jerk her hand back.
Secret Relationship 101: Pretend all is normal.
Norah rolled the dice, took her turn.
In the past week, Cam had introduced her to quite a few other life lessons she’d bypassed as a teenager, training her on how to sneak around all his myriad relatives in order to meet him. She hadn’t quite resorted to climbing out her bedroom window and shimmying down the sycamore tree, but a time or two, it had been a near thing. The friend finder app they’d both installed on their phones helped arrange some “accidental” meetings, but it seemed every time they turned around, one or more of the Campbells was popping up to keep her from being bored during her stay. At this point, she’d relish the chance to be bored.
Play circled back around to Mitch. He rolled the dice and tapped his race car all the way to Park Place.
Glad of the distraction, Norah held out her hand. “Welcome to the Grand Royale Hotel at Park Place. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay. That’ll be $1500, please.”
Mitch eyed the cash in his hand, before flashing a glib smile. “Maybe we can come to some kind of mutually satisfying arrangement?”
“This isn’t that sort of establishment, sir.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Your foot is saying otherwise.”
Norah arched her own brow. “I’m sitting on my feet.”
“Then who’s trying to play footsie?” Mitch leaned back to check the tangle of legs beneath the table.
Norah caught the momentary flash of alarm across Cam’s face and nearly erupted into giggles. To cover for them both, she put on a mock stern face. “Your stalling tactics aren’t going to work. Pay up, bucko.”
Grumbling, Mitch made the necessary arrangements with the bank—aka Uncle Pete—and handed over the cash. “Heartless real estate mogul.”
“Aw, it’s not personal, sweetie, it’s business.”
Miranda rolled the dice. “I did warn you, she’s brutal at Monopoly.”
“Oh, who are you kidding? I’m ruthless at all games. I make no denials or apologies.”
“And we love you anyway.” Miranda moved her thimble. “Speaking of business, how much longer can you stay away from yours?”
Norah managed not to look at Cam—barely. He was still the only one she’d told about being fired. And despite the fact that they’d spent every night on the phone, talking till the wee hours about everything under the sun, they’d carefully steered clear of discussing when she was leaving. If we ignore it, the white elephant doesn’t actually exist.
Except now Miranda had put it right out there. Because if Norah was really here on a true vacation from her former job, she’d absolutely have to be getting back. Damn it.
“I feel like I just got here.”
“Well, it is the first vacation longer than a holiday weekend you’ve taken since I moved back home.”
“Seems a shame to head on back to the city when you only just now slowed down,” Cam remarked.
Norah glanced at him but saw no censure. He was leaving this news for her, as she’d asked.
“Do you have the extra leave time to take?” Aunt Liz asked.
“I’ve got more leave time than I know what to do with.” It wasn’t a complete lie. She’d had almost two months built up when she got axed. Four, if she counted major medical.
Aunt Liz clapped her hands together. “Then stay a while longer. We haven’t gotten to see you nearly enough this visit.”
The actual decision was easy. Chicago felt worlds away, and she was in no shape to be making major life decisions at the moment. As Cam had said, she’d only just slowed down. Plus, she wanted—needed—time to explore this unexpected spark with him.
“There are any number of hungry young neophytes dying to step into my shoes. I expect they’ll find a way to do without me.” Because her face felt suddenly brittle, Norah flashed her best sales smile and changed the subject. “If I asked super sweetly, could I talk anybody else into a fire and hot chocolate?”
“Yes!” Mitch shot a fist into the air. “A hot chocolate break will give me a chance to plot my comeback.”
Miranda patted him on the arm. “You hang on to that delusion, big brother. I’ll help with the beverages.”
“I could use a chance to stretch my legs.” Norah unfolded from her chair. “I’ll get the firewood.”
Cam pushed back from the table. “I’ll help you. Uncle Pete, make sure Mitch doesn’t mess with the bank.”
Norah slipped out the door before Mitch finished protesting. The woodpile was at the far side of the yard, flanking the garden shed, well away from the cedar shingles of the house. She’d already made it halfway across the lawn by the time Cam caught up.
“Hold it. Put this on.”
Turning, she saw he’d stopped to grab her coat. “It’s not that cold to me. Thicker blood, remember?”
“Humor me.” He held it so she could slip her arms inside.
Relenting, she did as he asked, then immediately crossed her arms because she did feel cold. But she knew it had nothing to do with the temperature.
“What’s wrong?”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “How did you know?”
“I know your real smile. That wasn’t it.” Cam squeezed her shoulders. “You okay?”
“I keep thinking I am, and then something brings it all back up again.
“It’s gonna keep happening until you tell them.”
Norah hunched her shoulders. “I know. Doesn’t make it any easier.”
“I don’t think this kind of thing is ever easy. It’s a Band-aid yank sort of situation.”
They circled around the wood pile to the back side of the shed.
“I guess…there’s a part of me that feels like if I keep it to myself, if I don’t actually say it out loud, then it can still go away. That they’ll figure out they’ve shot themselves in the foot and call begging me to come back.”
“Do you want them to ask you back?”
“God, yes.” Catching sight of his carefully blank expression, she laid both hands on his arms. “Only so I can tell them to stick it where the sun don’t shine. I couldn’t go back to that. Not knowing what I know now.”
Cam relaxed and pulled her close. “You’ll figure the rest out, Wonder Woman. I have faith.”
Norah burrowed in, wrapping her arms around him beneath his open coat. “I’m glad one of us does.”
He stroked a hand down her hair. “I get that you don’t want to spread this around and why you’re not keen on announcing it to the whole family, but I really think you’ll feel better if you at least talk to Miranda.”
“I feel better when I’m with you.” She tipped her head back to look at him. “You’re solid. Steady.”
His lips twisted in an expression that couldn’t be termed a smile. “Yep, that’s me. Solid, steady, boring Cam. Everybody says so.”
“Then everybody’s wrong. You’re not boring. Not at all. You’re just…subtle,” she decided. “I guess next to Mitch or Reed or Tucker, people probably tend to overlook that.” She slid her hands up to brace on his shoulders, rising to her toes until she was close enough to feel the warmth of his breath. “Solid and steady really works for me.”
Now he did smile. “Happy to oblige.” Dipping his head, he brushed his lips over hers, testing. They both listened.
“We have maybe two minutes before somebody starts wondering where we are,” he murmured.
“Then we’d better make the most of them.”
Cam’s eyes darkened, his lips curving into a hungry smile that had Norah’s toes curling. He backed her against the shed and boxed her in with his arms. She loved it, loved that instant leap of her heart, the catch of her breath as he took her mouth.Wanting to feel the heat of him, she slid her fingers into the open collar of his shirt to rest against his skin. His pulse thundered, and she loved that, too. How could such a quiet, steady man be so…potent?
His head snapped up, and Norah made some soft, incoherent sound of protest before she heard what he’d heard. Footsteps across the dead grass.
Releasing her, he eased open the door to the shed and stepped inside. “Pull out your phone. Flashlight.”
She didn’t stop to ask him why, just did as he asked, raising the poor light above her head to partially illuminate the gloom within. Cam was shifting through the contents of the shed when Miranda came around and blocked the light.
“What on earth are you doing?”
“Looking for the wood sling,” Cam replied, not a trace of breathlessness in his voice.
“It was by the back door.” Miranda held it up.
“My mistake.” Cam stepped out of the shed, apparently back under control. “Norah, you wanna grab some kindling off that end?”
Norah followed him out and started gathering the smaller bits, as asked, hoping her flush would be attributed to the cold.