Chapter 10
FINN
I’d seen snow before, so I’d thought I was prepared for Vermont.
But I’d never seen anything like this. Everything was blanketed with a deep layer of thick white powder, and the air was filled with an eerie silence. And it might have been because we were out in the woods, but there was a finality about the covering of snow that I’d never felt before.
“Shit. Are we actually trapped?” I asked quietly.
Cameron seemed far less fazed than I’d expected—but then, I guessed he was used to this. He waggled a gloved hand. “I’ll make a call and my plow guys will get here when they can. But for now, yeah.” He closed the door and wrinkled his nose. “Sorry, you’re stuck with me.”
“It’s fine,” I said. And honestly, it was. I should have been annoyed. I had plans, and they didn’t include spending the day with a guy who probably couldn’t wait to get rid of me. But I wasn’t mad that I’d get to hang out with Cameron for a while longer.
This morning had been a first. I’d never accidentally jerked someone off before.
But the chemistry between us had been undeniable, and the way Cameron had squirmed and whimpered when I touched him had been incredible.
Just thinking about it made my blood run hot, and I wanted to do it again.
But the way Cameron had hurried to the bathroom even after I’d told him I wasn’t mad suggested he’d rather forget the whole thing.
I took off my jacket, beanie, and scarf and hung them near the door and sat down on the couch. Cameron’s cat immediately leaped up onto my lap and started kneading my thighs with vicious claws, purring loudly.
“Wow,” Cameron said. “She really does like you.”
I winced as she dug her claws in deeper. “I’d hate to see what she does to someone she doesn’t like.”
“I can move her,” Cameron offered and made a move to pick her up.
“It’s fine. You can just kiss the scratches better later,” I said.
The tips of Cameron’s ears went red, and it was cute as fuck. “I should make that call,” he said and hurried out of the room and into the bedroom. I smiled to myself. He hadn’t said no.
When he came back a few minutes later, his mouth was tight. “The plow company says they don’t know how long it will be. Maybe later today, maybe tomorrow. Sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing? It’s not like you’re the snow fairy or something.”
Cameron perched on the edge of the couch and shrugged. “You wouldn’t be stuck here if I hadn’t run you down.” He glanced up. “I should ask how your head is feeling, since I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”
I grinned. “I’d say you took pretty good care of me this morning.”
Cameron’s cheeks went pink, but he looked like he was fighting a smile. The cat chose that moment to abandon my lap in favor of Cameron’s, jumping onto his knees and bumping her head into his hand, and he relaxed as he gave her a soft smile and scritched under her chin.
“I like your cat,” I said.
“She’s objectively terrible, but I do too,” he said, still stroking Asshole’s throat as she let out a pleased rumble. “She has character.”
The cat stilled as if she knew we were talking about her.
She turned her nose in the air, then jumped across to the overstuffed armchair and settled in to sleep, her back toward us like we were unworthy of her attention.
Cameron stood and wandered over to the window, stretching his arms over his head as he took in the view, and I took the opportunity to ogle his butt from my seat on the couch.
What? There was nothing wrong with both of us appreciating the view.
He turned just in time to catch me checking him out and I thought he might be offended, but instead the corners of his mouth curled up in a smile. “Did you want more… coffee?”
I wanted more something, but I’d settle for coffee.
“Yeah,” I said and followed him into the kitchen.
“There are more cookies in the pantry,” he said, nodding in the direction of a closed door just off the kitchen while he washed our mugs from earlier. I wondered if he only had two.
I opened the door to his walk-in pantry and peeked inside.
I was frankly jealous—my apartment didn’t have a walk-in—but mainly I was curious about what he kept in there.
I stopped short when I saw a half-assembled gingerbread castle that had been shoved toward the back of a shelf.
I slid the cake board forward and leaned in for a closer look.
The walls seemed sturdy enough at first glance, but it soon became clear that one of them had caved in and the roof had been overloaded with fondant, causing it to collapse.
There was a single lone turret sticking out of the top at an angle that would have made that tower in Pisa proud.
But even with all that going on, I could see that with some structural modifications it was nothing that couldn’t be fixed.
“Hey, did you want—oh.” I whirled at the sound of Cameron’s voice and found him staring at the half-built castle with an unhappy frown. “Don’t look at that. It’s a total disaster and I don’t know how to fix it.”
I bit my lip. I should have been happy that his build was a mess.
Objectively, it meant I had a better chance of winning.
But the competition had never really been that important to me—not more important than getting to know Cameron—and he looked so dejected I found myself saying, “I do. I’ll help, if you want. ”
Something like hope lit up Cameron’s features, but then he narrowed his eyes. “Why would you help? We’re rivals.”
“Why not?” I stepped out of the pantry, still holding the house. “I mean, we’re snowed in. What else are we going to do?”
Cameron’s gaze flicked from the half-collapsed structure to my face and back again. “You should know that my builds are normally better than this.”
“I’d believe it. I heard you made a Nakatomi Plaza last year. Which is why I had to plan something completely different this year.”
Cameron paused halfway through grabbing the container of cookies from the walk-in and turned to face me, eyes wide. “Really?”
“Really. Sherri told me about it, and I might have looked the last four winning entries up online to see what I was up against. You really are good at this.”
Cameron ducked his head, but not before I saw his tiny, pleased smile. “Thanks.” And then he lifted his head, eyes bright, and said, “That means a lot coming from a Kardashian-adjacent baker.”
Wait. Was Cameron teasing me for a change? Because I was here for it.
I grinned. “For the record, that client was an absolute nightmare, and I would sooner shit in my hands and clap than deal with her again.”
I expected Cameron to laugh, but instead he tilted his head and gave me a long look. “Is that why you’re a lumberjack now? Because of shitty clients?”
I set the cake board on the kitchen island and leaned on the counter while I thought about how to reply.
I could tell Cameron was genuinely curious, and since I was the one who’d brought it up, it seemed only fair to answer.
“Not the clients,” I said slowly. “Not exactly. Although I did get to deal with some real assholes.”
“So what, you just decided you needed a change? That can happen sometimes,” Cameron said. I got the feeling he knew that wasn’t the reason, but he was giving me an easy out if I wanted it. It was unexpectedly thoughtful. He set the container of cookies in front of me. Gingerbread men. Of course.
I took a deep breath and said, “The bakery got new owners, and you know how it is.” At Cameron’s blank expression I added, “Tale as old as time. Here comes the new boss, ten times worse than the old boss. They wanted to tap into the celebrity market but they also didn’t want to hire more staff, so they expected me to do it all.
It was a combination of too much pressure and not enough hours in the day, and I started to dread going to work.
I had kind of… a meltdown, I guess. So I quit. ”
His gaze softened. “That must have sucked, and I’m sorry it happened to you. But I guess it explains the lumberjacking?”
“Yeah,” I said, absently picking up one of the gingerbread men.
“I was well and truly burnt out. So I took some time off. I came to Sugar Hollow to see the fall leaves, and it was love at first sight. And when I saw a job posting for the sawmill, it seemed like fate. So here I am,” I said, adding jazz hands. “Ta-da!”
“Well, at least you’re baking again now,” Cameron said, giving me a tentative smile.
“Yep. I didn’t touch a mixing bowl for months.
But I guess the change of scenery did the trick, because I woke up a few weeks back and for the first time since I quit, I wanted to get back in the kitchen.
” I gave Cameron a wry smile. “I was so excited that I went straight to the store for baking supplies. Met a cute guy there too, even if I did knock him on his ass.”
Cameron huffed out a laugh. “You stole my fondant.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I did feel bad about that. But you’ve forgiven me now, right?”
Cameron hummed like he was considering it before saying, “I guess knocking you over with my car makes us even.”
“Absolutely,” I said. I bit the head off the gingerbread man, and I was unprepared for the perfect blend of sugar and spices that flooded my tastebuds. A filthy moan escaped me.
Cameron grinned. “Should I be jealous of that gingerbread?”
“Holy shit,” I said once I’d swallowed. “It’s incredible. I’m gonna need this recipe.”
“The cookies are great,” Cameron said with a shrug. He gestured to the crumbling castle. “But this? It’s a hot mess.”
“I told you, I’m happy to help fix it,” I said.
Cameron hesitated. “If you help me and I win, it would feel like I cheated you out of your title.”
God, he really was adorably earnest, but he was also taking this whole contest way too seriously. “Cameron, I don’t really care about winning.”
“No?” He shot me a skeptical look. “Then why enter?”