Hometown Holiday Reunion. Mia Ross
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“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.” Letting her go, he stepped back and dredged up a wry grin. “Still hate me?”
Batting her eyelashes in a gesture totally out of character for her, she gave him an exaggerated Southern-belle smile. “Not as much.”
“Give it time, darlin’,” he teased in a heavy drawl as they continued down the walk. “Knowing me, it won’t be long till I do something to make you mad.”
* * *
Boy, did he call that one.
“Are you trying to drive me crazy?” Erin demanded when she saw how Cam was packing Great-Grandma Kinley’s china. Snatching the Bubble Wrap from him, she demonstrated on a plate that she took from the small hutch. “Wrap the whole thing twice, then set it down flat in the box. They’re very fragile, and if you put them on end, the rims might get damaged.”
“Okay.”
“These came all the way from Ireland on a sailing ship,” she persisted in frustration. “It would be a shame if they couldn’t survive moving from one side of Oaks Crossing to the other.”
“Sorry. I should’ve been more careful.”
It was the uncharacteristically humble tone that convinced her that his apology was sincere. Once her frantic, record-setting pace had been interrupted, she decided they could both use a breather. Carefully putting the heirloom dish into the padded moving carton, she turned to him and smiled. “Time for a break. I’ve got coffee and water, and I think there’s some cherry pie in the fridge.”
His gloomy expression brightened considerably. “Maggie’s cherry pie?”
“Of course. Mom made an extra for Parker and me and sent it home with us after Christmas dinner. Help yourself.”
Her everyday dishes were already packed, but the silverware organizer sat on the counter waiting for a box. Her resourceful helper tore off a couple of paper towels and served up a piece of pie for each of them.
Biting into a mouthful of his, he hummed in appreciation. “Your mother’s a genius when it comes to food. Must be an Irish thing.”
“It’s supposed to be,” Erin acknowledged with a laugh. “I guess it skips a generation or something, because my niece Abby loves to cook but I can’t stand it.”
“You’re good at other things.”
The compliment caught her off guard, and she gave him a long, curious look. “Did you just say something complimentary about me?”
“Huh,” he commented, as if it hadn’t occurred to him until she mentioned it. “I guess so. Can’t imagine what came over me.”
Mischief sparked in his eyes, and she couldn’t help laughing. “Are you really as bad as all that, or is it just an act?”
“You tell me.”
While they stared at each other, the playful gleam deepened to something she wasn’t sure she liked. The trouble was, she wasn’t sure she didn’t like it, either. Rattled by her conflicting emotions, she fell back on her usual defense. Tossing her head defiantly, she said, “I think you just want people to assume you’re bad so they won’t hassle you.”
“Then why do you keep hassling me?”
“Because I’m not afraid of you,” she informed him, staring him down to make her point more clearly. “I never was, and I never will be.”
The corner of his mouth quirked in an almost smile, and he seemed to take the revelation in stride. “Good to know.”
It was nuts, but she couldn’t shake the impression that the mellow timbre of his deep voice was actually making the glassware on the table vibrate. “I’m glad you’re happy. Now, can we please get back to work?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Eager to get away from him, she turned and headed for Parker’s bedroom to pack up his clothes. While she strode down the hallway, she felt Cam’s eyes following her as she went.
What is he thinking? she wondered before she could stop herself. Because, really, she had no business wondering anything about her enigmatic landlord. After he helped her move all this stuff, they’d probably only see each other long enough to trade the occasional “good morning” or for her to complain that there was no hot water. If all went well, she’d buy his building and shove him several steps closer to returning to the life in Minnesota he was so eager to resume.
Logical and practical, that line of thinking should have reassured her. But for some reason it made her feel sad.
“Is this one ready?”
Cam’s voice startled her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when he appeared beside her. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“Not hardly.” He cocked his head with a curious look. “Where were you just now? You looked like you were a million miles away.”
Wonderful. Now he was worrying about her. She really had to get it together, or he’d think she was turning into a flake. Not that she cared one whit about his opinion, of course. She just didn’t want to give him a reason to doubt that she was responsible enough to pay her rent on time every month.
“Just thinking about what color to paint Parker’s new room.” On a whim, she decided to have some fun torturing her new landlord. “He really likes black.”
Cam glowered at that. “Not a chance. You know how tough it is to cover—” Pausing, he gave her a long, assessing look. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”
“Just a little. It’s fun.”
“For you,” he growled, heaving the large box onto his shoulder as if it was full of feathers. “Truck or car?”
“Truck. Thank you.” His shocked reaction to her comment made her laugh. “What?”
“You thanked me. Y’know, like you’d do with someone you don’t hate.”
“Tell you what,” she suggested with a smile, “if you’re nice to me, I’ll be nice to you.”
“I guess that could work. We could give it a shot, anyway.”
“I’m willing if you are.” That sounded way too personal, and she quickly added, “Since we’re going to be neighbors and all.”
Those dark eyes studied her for a few moments, then drifted away as if they didn’t like what they saw. Without another word he headed into the hallway, and she heard his boots thumping down the front hall before the entryway door banged open and closed.
What on earth is his problem? she wondered angrily, snapping open another flat moving box and forming it into the right shape. While she packed the bedding and books Parker had collected, she went over her conversation with Cam in her mind, trying to determine where it had veered from lighthearted to slam-the-door.