Chapter 8

“I’m ready to go,” Cameron said, enjoying the way he drank her in with his gaze. That this rangy, beautiful man with the proud stance did a double-take when he saw her made her feel desired. Wanted.

After a few long moments, Val shut his mouth. “You’re not dressed for dinner,” was his only statement, his eyes locked on hers. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

“No,” she said slowly. “I’m not.” After coming home, she’d put on a pair of slim-cut jeans and a soft T-shirt. She’d even managed to find a pair of boat shoes from the back of her closet. Of course, everything was designer, but Val didn’t need to know that.

“May I ask why?” His voice was unfailingly polite, even as the words seemed like they’d been unwillingly dragged from him.

“It sounds like Seb can use all the help he can get.”

“I see.” His jaw clenched, and he gave her one more look, from head to toe. “Where’d you get these clothes?”

She crossed her arms under her breasts. “I own them. Any other questions?”

“Yeah,” he said, after a while. “Do you like pizza? Because that’s what we’re having for dinner tonight.”

“Of course,” she responded, raising an eyebrow. “Doesn’t everybody?”

He pursed his lips together, as if he were trying hard not to laugh. Except he didn’t look like he was going to laugh. He looked stern, and intense, and, Lord help her, completely hot. He was wearing worn jeans that were snug in all the right places and a short-sleeved tee that skimmed his body just so, stretched slightly over his chest, looser down by his waist. He was wearing those work boots again, which must have given him an extra inch of height—not that he needed it. “Not everybody,” he murmured. What she supposed he meant was that he didn’t expect her to like it.

The man was in for a few more surprises.

“Hold on a minute.” She pulled a double-layer cotton jacket out of the hall closet and threw it on. Then she picked up her toolbox and walked back to the front. He was still there, having moved not an inch.

“What’s that?” he asked, nodding his head at her toolbox.

“What does it look like?”

“It looks like I might have been wrong about you.”

She smiled and peered over his shoulder. “Nice truck.”

He turned to look at his old pickup truck parked next to her refined British automobile. “Thanks. I redid it myself. Want a ride?”

“Sure.”

Once her toolbox was safely secured in the flatbed, Val started the engine, threw the gear shift into reverse, then placed his arm over the back of her seat to look over his shoulder as he backed up. She was almost sorry when he removed his arm to shift back into drive. The engine rumbled loudly before mellowing into a purr. “I picked up the pizza before coming here.”

“I figured.”

“Mmm.” He was quiet for a few minutes. “Just so you’re aware, I didn’t know until after I asked to you to dinner that Seb needed my help. Up until the very last minute, I was trying to make it work.”

“I believe you. But it really didn’t matter.”

“Why?”

“Even if you’d insisted that we go to dinner, I wouldn’t have. Your family needs you. And I can help, too.”

His eyes were on the road in front of them, but she saw him blink hard. “Wow.”

“Wow?”

“Just … wow.”

“If you’re not going to elaborate on what you mean, I guess ‘wow’ is what I’m going to have to take.”

They arrived at the schoolhouse in a few minutes. “Pizza’s here,” Val said as they walked through the door. “And I brought a friend.”

“Cameron!” Lexie exclaimed. “It is so nice of you to come help out.”

“My pleasure,” she said, putting her toolbox on a nearby chair. “Julie clued me in earlier today, and I kind of strong-armed my way into helping.” She gave a quick glance to Val, but he’d already gone back out to get the other pizzas from the truck. “Looks like things are going well.” The place smelled like fresh paint and wood, and while there was obviously a lot yet to do, it was clear they were well on their way to finishing. Not that she knew anything about opening a restaurant, but all of the chairs and about half the tables had been assembled, the walls looked good, and the lighting fixtures were in place. Wasn’t that all you needed? Aside from the food?

And speaking of food, she noticed that Avery had set out the pizza boxes, along with some paper plates and napkins. There also looked to be cans of soda and bottles of beer in a nearby cooler.

Seb walked up, green eyes twinkling, exuding charisma. “I appreciate you coming out tonight. What are you good at?”

“I’m okay with a paintbrush, but furniture is my strong suit.”

“You could help out Theo,” Seb said, jerking his thumb toward his twin, who was currently struggling to attach a table leg to its support.

“Please,” Theo said, pushing his glasses onto his head and rubbing his eyes. “I’ve been at this for three hours. Everything is starting to blur together.”

“Time for a break,” Avery said briskly. “Everyone, please, eat some pizza.”

Everyone descended on the pies. Twenty minutes later, after they’d finished, Cameron went to wash her hands and then rejoined the group in the main space.

“You ready for me?” she asked Theo.

Theo nodded. “Here,” he said. “The directions are over …”

Cameron didn’t wait for him to finish. She simply unlocked her toolbox, grabbed her portable power drill, popped the current bit out, popped the right one in, and began to organize herself to put together the next table. “I’ll start with the small ones. Let me know when you’re ready to do the communal table, okay?”

Theo regarded her for a moment, his mouth twitching. “I can see that you’re going to be just fine,” he said. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready.” Then he headed back to his own pile of wood and screws.

Quickly, expertly, she put together three tables without stopping. She’d done this kind of work a thousand times over. In fact, compared to the intricate furniture she typically handled, these bare-bones café tables were pieces of cake. When she was finished, she picked her head up and glanced around. Val was across the room, hanging a large framed mirror on the one wall without wet stenciling. That mirror had to weigh close to a hundred pounds, yet he wasn’t straining to lift it; he held it easily, following Seb’s directions to get it evenly situated. Finally, they had the mirror where they wanted it to go. While Seb confirmed the location of the hanging wire and drilled the holes for the hooks, Val just stood there waiting, that gargantuan mirror in hand, as if it weren’t even the slightest bit heavy.

When at last they had the monstrous thing hanging on the wall, Val turned to look at her. Suddenly embarrassed that he was staring, she made a little gesture at the tables. Look what I’ve accomplished. He gave her a slow smile that simply smoldered. Ducking her head, she went to help Theo with the table he was still working on. In short order, they had it completed.

“Done,” Theo said, satisfied. “Ready for the big one?”

Cameron held the drill up as if it were a pistol and squeezed the “on” button like a trigger. “Yes.”

When they’d gotten the big table together, she stretched her arms out. That huge wooden tabletop was heavy!

Glancing around, she saw all the Grayson men and their significant others working together. This was what they did—helped each other build their dreams. A twinge of envy lodged in her chest. She’d built her stores herself, with no help from her immediate family and only minimal help from Uncle Nigel. Those lonely nights she’d spent getting everything ready were a far cry from tonight, where everyone was pitching in. Though it was a reminder of everything she didn’t have, it was still inspiring. Val was the one who had held his whole family together when it could just as easily have fallen apart.

She blinked and brought herself back to the present. “What’s next?” she asked.

“A couple of utility racks for the kitchen.”

“All right. Now where did my toolbox go?” She glanced around, realizing it was probably buried under some of the packing material.

Just as she uncovered her box, Cameron felt a familiar presence by her side. She looked up, and there he was, watching her.

“Hey,” Val said, staring into her eyes.

“Hey,” she responded.

“Theo,” Val said, not breaking their gaze, “why don’t you help Cole put up the sign? I can help Cameron with the utility shelves.”

Theo looked back and forth between the two of them. “Sure thing, bro. I’ll get on that.” Cameron gave him a little smile. “I can do them myself,” she said, testing him.

“Nope. You’re with me.”

Good. She inclined her head slightly. “Lead the way.”

He did, back into the kitchen. “Here they are,” he said, lifting two long boxes off the kitchen counter and placing them on the floor.

Without waiting for him, Cameron pulled out her pocketknife and sliced open the tape holding the first box shut. Then she flipped it open to examine the contents. “We should do this in here. We’ll need a Phillips head bit, and that’s about it. No mess.” She looked up at him, and found he was staring at her again. “What?”

His face was close to hers, those delicious little brackets forming around his mouth again. “Nothing. I’ll get the bit.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll get the other box opened up.”

They had the utility shelves done in no time, and after they finished, they walked back to the main room. Cameron sat down on one of the completed chairs. Without meaning to, she yawned. “Sorry,” she said to Val. “I didn’t realize how tired I was until we stopped.”

“I should get you home,” he said.

“What time is it?”

“Close to midnight.”

“If you need me to stay, I will. Anna’s opening up the store tomorrow and I don’t plan to get there until noon.” Her reward for a tough week.

Seb had come over to check on their progress. “No. You’ve done more than enough. You should go home and get some rest. But I’d be honored if you came on Saturday for opening night.” He gave her a warm smile.

Lexie came up and slipped her arm around Seb. “Oh, yes, please do, Cameron.”

“I’d love to. Thank you for the invitation.”

“All right,” Val said. “Time to go.”

She waved goodbye, then Val drove her home. The truck bed windows were open, the scent of pine and leaves and earth wafting up as they went through the woods.

“It was really nice of Seb to invite me to the opening.”

“It’s the least he can do after all your help.”

“I just put together a few pieces of furniture.”

“First of all, it would’ve taken us hours to do what you did in minutes. And second, it wasn’t just that. You also ate pizza, and you helped out my family.”

Cameron shrugged. “I don’t know why you’re so hung up on the pizza. It wasn’t a big deal. And if working at Seb’s restaurant tonight was important to my friends, it was important to me, too.”

They were back in front of her cottage now, the almost-full moon shining down on the little clearing. The water crashed on the surf, then trickled back into the sound, flowing and ebbing in a pattern as old as time. It had cooled off a bit from the morning, but it was still warm. Mixed aromas of wisteria and salt water spun around her in the sultry air.

Val undid his seat belt, turned to her, and threw his arm over the seatback. “Cam, it was a big deal. A very big deal.”

“It wasn’t.” She frowned. “I don’t know why you keep saying that.”

“Because women like you typically don’t know how to put together furniture and chow down with the guys.”

“Women like me?” she said slowly. “I’m not sure what that even means.”

“Aw, c’mon, Cam,” he said, fingering the collar of her jacket. “You know what you are.” You, with the salon hair and the diamond stud earrings and the thousand-dollar shoes. But she was more than that. Much more. And she wanted him to acknowledge it.

With two fingers, she took his hand and removed it from her collar. “I am awfully tired about hearing what ‘women like me’ should and shouldn’t do. I’m supposed to act a certain way, be a certain way. Everything’s so tidy and safe and reasonable and boxed in.” She started to tick off the list on her fingers. “ ‘Cameron, don’t open your own business. It simply isn’t done,’ ” she said, sounding so much like Clarissa it almost made her cringe. “ ‘And don’t miss the charity event next week—remember, you promised to join the committee. Oh, don’t travel alone to Star Harbor, dear, and definitely don’t rent a place there. What will people think? Don’t own power tools. Don’t eat pizza. Don’t wear jeans.’ What’s next? Don’t hang out in a truck with a man who doesn’t play racquetball?” She was painfully aware of her loss of temper, of her chest rapidly rising and falling with her breathing.

“I play racquetball,” he said, his lip curling up. “Sometimes.” She frowned at him and he got serious, fast. “Cam, I wasn’t telling you what to do. All I’m saying is that you’re a surprise. A good surprise.”

She was still furious, her breath coming in sharp bursts, and she watched him watching her, this hot-as-hell man with the ocean eyes. He wasn’t safe. He was the farthest thing from safe. And she was so tired of being safe. So she did the only thing that made any sense. She slid across the seat, threw her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips to his.