Chapter Thirteen
They placed their orders and claimed a seat in the back, near the fireplace and the cozy sitting area designed for small groups and board games. When Gwen arrived with their plates of food, Cammie excused herself to wash up.
As Gwen set the plates down and turned to leave, she caught sight of Allen slipping something red onto Cammie’s plate. Her curiosity piqued, she leaned closer, lifting the napkin to reveal a small red heart with a handwritten message.
“What’s this?” she whispered.
“Nothing,” Allen said, pulling her hand away and tucking the napkin over his secret. “You didn’t see a thing. Go away.”
Gwen arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “I’m not going anywhere until you explain. You’ve got about ninety seconds before she gets back,” she shot back, one hand on her hip, her eyes narrowing.
“Fine,” Allen hissed, leaning closer. “Cammie hates Valentine’s Day. She thinks romantic gestures are just manipulative calculations to appease a partner. I’m trying to show her that true romance exists—real, meaningful gestures that aren’t tied to expectations. I’ve been writing these little messages and leaving them for her to find. By Valentine’s Day, I’m hoping to open her heart again and help her rediscover the joy she used to feel before unworthy men ruined it for her.”
Her eyes widened, and she pressed a hand to her forehead. “You’ve been dropping these little hearts for her to find? Allen, you’re not going to open her heart—you’re going to chase her out of town, you crazy, lovesick stalker!”
“Give me those!” she demanded, reaching into his jacket pocket before he could stop her and pulling out a fistful of folded pink and red hearts.
“Hey, wait!” Allen hissed, lunging for her, but he froze as Cammie reappeared out of the corner of his eye. Straightening quickly, he settled onto his stool, trying to look composed.
“We’ll talk about this later. For now... stop!” Gwen ordered in a sharp whisper. Then, without missing a beat, she pasted on a bright smile and strode off toward the counter, clutching the tiny hearts at her side. “Enjoy your dinner!” she called cheerfully as Cammie passed by.
“I wonder what’s up with Gwen,” Cammie mused, glancing over her shoulder as Gwen disappeared into the back. “She looked like she was up to something. By the smile on her face, I’d say it’s a good thing, but she also kind of looked like an evil plotter.”
Allen chuckled at her observation, knowing Gwen was likely doing exactly that. “Evil plotter sounds about right,” he quipped.
Their meal passed quickly, the delicious flavors and the easy conversation helping them unwind after a long, taxing day. They jumped from topic to topic, each learning more about the other as their friendship deepened.
“I can’t believe this,” Cammie said, shaking her head in mock disbelief. “You’re from one of the best seafood spots in the country, and your favorite food is barbecue? Are you sure you’re not secretly from Carolina?”
“Nope,” Allen replied, his grin widening. “My family’s been in Boston and its small towns for over a hundred years, but I do enjoy North Carolina. Y’all have some mighty fine barbecue down there,” he added, attempting his best Southern drawl.
Cammie burst into laughter. “Okay, you earned a few points for that one,” she said between giggles.
“So, I spilled my beans,” Allen said, taking another bite of his sandwich, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he enjoyed the sound of her laughter. “What about you? What’s your favorite food?”
Cammie caught her breath, her cheeks still slightly pink from laughing. Taking a sip of her blackberry tea, she tilted her head with a wry smile. “I caught that pun. You’re cute.”
She paused, her smile turning thoughtful. “As for my favorite food? It depends on who you ask. If my mother’s in earshot, it’s grilled chicken and veggies with a drizzle of balsamic glaze—honey, not brown sugar. But if I’m being honest?” Her voice softened, and she avoided his gaze, focusing instead on her Caprese salad. “It’s five-cheese mac and cheese with diced ham and broccoli. I save it for when I’m really stressed or on those freezing nights when comfort food by the fire feels just right. If I had to pick my last meal, it’d be that.”
Allen reached across the table, his hand closing gently over hers. The warmth of his touch pulled her gaze to his, and she found him watching her with quiet intensity.
“Cammie,” he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate straight to her core. “You don’t have to hide anything from me. Nothing about you could ever turn me away. You’re extraordinary, and I’m grateful to have the chance to know you.” His thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles, a soft gesture that carried weight. “And one day, I hope you’ll see there’s nothing to hide from your parents, either. If they love you, they’ll love all of you. Even your mac-and-cheese obsession,” he added with a teasing wink.
Her cheeks flushed pink, but she turned her hand over to squeeze his fingers. “Thank you, Allen. I’ve spent so much time hiding who I am that I’m not sure my family could handle it if I showed them the real me. But I appreciate you being the kind of friend I can just be... me with. It means more than I can say. I’m really enjoying this newfound freedom.”
Anika came over to the table to clear their plates, her hand brushing the napkin concealing the heart from Cammie’s plate so that it fluttered to the floor.“Oh, I think you dropped this,” she whispered shyly, bending to retrieve the missive and placing it in front of Cammie with a smile before scurrying away.
Allen caught the glimmer in Anika’s eyes as she glanced his way, and his heart leapt. She’s in on it. With the girls on his side, his plan was as good as guaranteed.
Cammie picked up the little heart, turning it over to read the message: You make the world a little less ordinary. She tilted her head, curiosity flickering across her face, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she slipped the note into her pocket as Allen helped her with her jacket.
They walked back to her van under the glow of the moon, Allen keeping up a steady stream of conversation and teasing, his laughter warming the crisp night air.
He unlocked her door and held it open, their faces close enough that their breath mingled in the cold night air.“Thank you for everything, Allen,” Cammie said softly, her voice quieter than she intended. “Today was amazing. Dinner was lovely.”
For a moment, he didn’t respond, and she wondered if he’d heard her. Then he smiled, pulling her into a warm embrace. His voice was a low whisper against her hair. “Today was great for me, too. Thank you for sharing yourself with me, Cammie.”
As Allen stepped back, creating a small but deliberate distance between them, Cammie felt the overwhelming urge to close the gap. He was the kindest, most genuine man she’d ever met, and for a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to imagine what “more” might look like—and it terrified her.
Her chest tightened, caught between hope and fear. The warmth of his embrace lingered like a dangerous temptation, urging her to let go of the walls she’d built so carefully. But the fear was louder. Her pulse quickened, pounding a steady rhythm of warning: don’t trust, don’t fall, don’t lose.
She couldn’t do this—not again. Falling for Allen wasn’t just reckless; it was dangerous. Judson had taught her that love wasn’t enough to save you when everything else fell apart. Her stomach twisted as she recalled his betrayal—the way he’d leveraged her trust to destroy not only her heart but her standing in Glacier Ridge. She had nothing left there.
If things went wrong with Allen, it wouldn’t just hurt emotionally. It would unravel everything she was building in Hickory Falls. The relationships here were tighter, the stakes higher. And Allen wasn’t just a charming stranger. His bond with Zach and the Rangers ran deep, weaving him into the very fabric of this town. Trusting him meant risking it all.
Stepping back abruptly, she forced a calm smile. “Good night, Allen,” she said briskly, her voice betraying none of the turmoil raging inside her. Without another glance, she climbed into her van, gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline.
As she drove into the icy night, her headlights cutting through the dark, her thoughts spun in a storm of regret and resolve.
Allen stood on the curb, watching her taillights vanish into the frosty night, tension tightening his jaw. The change in her eyes, the stiffness in her posture, the way she’d pulled away—it was all too familiar. The walls he’d been scaling weren’t just back; they were higher and stronger than ever.
He exhaled slowly, his breath curling into the cold air. “Nothing easy or free is worth having,” his gramps always said. And Cammie Rodes? She was worth everything.
Her retreat wasn’t rejection—it was fear. He could see it in the way her gaze lingered before she walked away, the flicker of vulnerability she hadn’t hidden fast enough. She wanted to trust. She just didn’t know how yet.
Allen clenched his fists, determination surging through him. If Cammie thought she could shut him out that easily, she didn’t know him at all.
He could be called many things, but a quitter wasn’t one of them.