Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
WE THOUGHT YOU WAS A CHICKEN
JULIANA
My skin feels tired and I’m aching in the best ways, but I can’t stop smiling as I make my way downstairs. I pad to the kitchen, turn on some music, and start the water for coffee before I get busy.
Suzanne set me up really well for the morning.
Everything is already prepped. Veggies chopped for soups, meats sliced for sandwiches, and the dough for the bread is ready to go.
I spend the next couple of hours baking, and right before the cafe is supposed to open, I spill what’s left in my second mug of coffee down the front of me.
I sigh, grab my coat, and head outside. I’m surprised to see a larger path than normal shoveled between the cafe and my house.
It’s a little warmer than I expected and the snow doesn’t look too icy, but I still take my time crossing the snow.
A screeching “Ra-ra-ra-raooo!” stops me in my tracks.
I turn to see what in the world that was, and one of the hens comes charging after me.
I pause, thinking I’ll be able to talk it down, but oh no, it does not let up.
I bolt into the house and shut the door behind me, bending over to catch my breath.
I look out the window and jump when Papa Hector says, “Good morning, sweetheart.”
“Good morning.” Still breathless.
“You okay, dear?”
“There’s a very angry chicken out there! It chased me!”
“What?” Papa laughs and looks out the window.
The chicken spots me staring at it and lets out that “Ra-ra-ra-raooo!” sound again.
“What in the world?” Papa says, frowning. “Is that…a rooster?”
“I guess it is starting to look a little different than all the rest,” I say, peeking carefully from behind the curtain this time.
“Well, would you look at that,” Papa says. “I believe he is a rooster.”
“What’s he doing out of the coop?” I put my hand on my heart, willing it to calm down.
“That is a good question,” Papa says. “I’ll get him back inside.”
“Careful, he is out for vengeance this morning.”
Papa chuckles. “Aw, nah, not these guys. They’re all as gentle as can be.”
I snort, eyeing the rooster warily as Papa goes out. The rotten little thing doesn’t make a peep when he sees Papa. He also doesn’t make it easy for Papa to catch him. I start to get worried Papa will slip on the ice trying to catch that guy, so I step outside to help.
“Ra-ra-ra-raoooooo!” The sound is even louder this time, and he comes charging toward me, looking like an avenging protector.
Fearing for my life, I grab the snow shovel and wave it toward him, and he lifts off the ground, his wings fluttering. With all the commotion, Papa is able to catch up to him, and while I’m saying “Watch out, don’t let him hurt you,” the little bastard goes right in Papa’s arms without any fuss.
“I don’t know what got into him,” Papa says. “He was not happy with you!”
“Okay, Ralph,” I say to the rooster. “You need to settle right on down.”
He gives me the beady side-eye and somehow manages to look smug as Papa carries him to the coop.
I hurry inside to change and rush back to the cafe. By the time the shop opens, I’m ready for a nap. Papa and Uncle Hal come in around seven, already singing. Then Erin and Goldie show up a few minutes later, and they both look at me and laugh knowingly.
“What gave me away?” I ask.
“The way you’re glowing like a fluorescent light,” Erin says.
I wrinkle my nose. “Fluorescent lights are obnoxious.”
“She meant like delicate twinkle lights,” Goldie says, elbowing Erin.
Erin pretends to be annoyed, but she’s grinning. “Mm-hmm, exactly what I meant.”
“It was a good night then?” Goldie asks.
“It was an amazing night,” I say under my breath.
Goldie does a little dance, and Erin crosses her arms, looking at me like a proud mama.
“Don’t forget you owe us the details,” Erin says, pointing at me.
“Well, not too many details because…he’s my brother,” Goldie says. “I mean, I want to know…because it’s you, but…ugh…it’s complicated.” She laughs awkwardly and then gives me an apologetic smile.
“Don’t worry. I’ll spare you.” I shake my head when Erin protests. “Both of you,” I add. “If it never happens again, it’ll still be a night I’ll never forget.”
Both of them give me sideways looks and then speak at the same time.
“What do you mean?” Erin says.
“Of course it’ll happen again,” Goldie says.
I lift my shoulder. “I don’t know. I think it probably will, but I’m just taking it day by day…”
Goldie is frowning when she says, “Well, you need to be thinking a little more long-term than that.”
“As long as we’re keeping it a secret, I don’t think so,” I say. “I like him, but…will he ever let me in all the way?”
I can’t think about it too much. It stings to be a secret. It feels safer to just put it in a We’ll see what happens category.
The cafe picks up, and I say my goodbyes to the girls, promising we can catch up more later. Once the breakfast rush ends, I pour myself another cup of coffee. I’m running on fumes, but thoughts of Camden keep me moving, simply because I think of him approximately every five seconds.
I’m in the middle of adding a cake to the pastry display case when Bentley walks in.
“Hey there, gorgeous,” he says with that easy grin.
He slides onto a stool at the counter.
I get a little anxious with the way he looks at me. I thought I’d been clear about the whole We’re just friends thing, but now I’m not so sure.
I smile back, keeping it friendly but not too friendly.
“Hey, Bentley. What can I get for you? Coffee?”
“You know me well,” he says, his smile widening.
Papa Hector and Uncle Hal come from the back with trays full of fresh scones.
“Again?” Uncle Hal mutters. “Doesn’t this guy have a job?”
Heat creeps up my neck, but when I look at Bentley, he doesn’t seem to have heard anything.
The bell over the door rings, and I look over, happy for anything to distract me from Bentley and my scowling grandpa and great-uncle. I don’t know what they’ve got against Bentley, but they are not fans.
My stomach flips when I see Camden walk in.
But he spots Bentley staring at me and growls.
He actually growls.
It’s like the cafe suddenly goes silent. Even the espresso machine pauses in mid-hiss.
Camden looks at me and gives me a look that reminds me of when he was telling me to come with him. My cheeks fire up. He clears his throat and straightens his shoulders like he’ll play off that growl that just came out of him.
“Morning.” His eyes flick to Bentley. “Hey, think you could do me a favor? Swing by and pick up some truffles from Duluth for the restaurant?”
Bentley blinks. “Uh…sure? If you need it.”
“Great. Appreciate it.” Camden claps him on the shoulder, and Bentley, looking equal parts confused and amused, drains his coffee and heads out.
I chase after him before he can hit the sidewalk. “Bentley—wait. I’m sorry about…whatever that was.”
He chuckles, easygoing as ever. “It’s fine, Juju. I didn’t stop to consider that maybe you and Camden had…something. Guess that answers it.”
I make a face. “It’s—complicated.”
What am I supposed to say when Camden wants to keep it a secret?
“I just…I’m really hoping we can stay friends,” I add.
“Of course. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll probably see you tomorrow…if he doesn’t send me on another errand.” He laughs. “Your coffee and blueberry muffins…and your Hungarian mushroom soup…and grilled cheese…all are too good to pass up.” He winks. “See you later.”
When I walk back into the cafe, I find Camden leaning against the counter, smug as a tomcat.
“Seriously?” I hiss. “You growled?”
He raises a brow. “Got the job done.”
Papa Hector and Uncle Hal crack up at that. I didn’t even know they were listening. I glare at both of them, and they sober up.
“You liked it,” Camden says.
“I did not.”
He smirks and pushes off the counter, lowering his voice so only I can hear. “Your cheeks are red, little tease. Redder than your oven mitts.”
My eyes narrow. “Because I’m annoyed, and I just had to go out in the cold to make sure Bentley was okay.”
He scoffs. “That guy is just fine. I saved you from his relentless flirting. Besides, if anyone’s going to flirt you up, it’s going to be me.”
My pulse skitters. “Camden—”
“Juliana,” he murmurs, eyes glinting with mischief. “Did you let him know you’re not into him?”
I roll my eyes. “That is none of your business.”
He straightens, all teasing gone. “Really?” he asks, his voice soft.
I huff. “Yes, I told him I’d like to just be friends.”
His lips quirk, and he tries not to smile.
I point at him. “Knock it out. You can’t growl at someone for flirting with me. We are not––”
“You’re right,” he jumps in. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Dinner tonight? I can set it up in the little cove off of my office.”
“You don’t have to do that. I know you don’t have time for that.”
“I’m making time, Juju.” He leans in and whispers, “You’re worth it.”
And damn him, because even as I mutter about his ego and the nerve he has, my heart’s already saying yes.