14. Cami
Cami
Wondering Why by The Red Clay Strays
T he delicious smell of fresh coffee and caramelized sugar fills the air, mixing with the morning breeze and the low hum of chatter around the coffee trailer.
It’s barely past eight, and Bridger Falls is already alive and kicking, mostly because The Rancher Finds a Wife production crew has turned our small town into their own personal circus.
People have turned up from miles around to watch the show’s spectacle.
My coffee trailer has been busy nonstop ever since, with a line formed clear down Jack's driveway.
They set up a makeshift parking lot, and Tucker has a ranch hand driving everyone up in a side by side.
I'm not complaining. This morning, Maggie reported that Bridger Falls is overflowing with people, and all the businesses are booming.
There was standing room only at The Black Dog bar last night, and the town is loving all of this attention.
I'd say the Jessop reputation is getting better.
No one is even talking about Jack Jessop, Sr. anymore, and rightfully so.
He doesn't deserve to be talked about how he's treated everyone. Good riddance.
And maybe because everyone wants to see what happens with Jack. And I can't blame them, because I do, too. In fact, this is all killing me. I can't stand to see the way they're all flirting with him. Deep down, I hate this.
I sip my iced coffee, extra strong, because I need it today, and casually adjust the hem of my denim jacket like I don’t care about anything happening around me. Like I didn’t spend the entire night tossing and turning, replaying that moment in the barn.
The one where Jack held me . The way his warm hands felt protective of me. The way he seemed to like it and not let go. I loved the way he felt, and I loved being that close to him. And I let him. I didn't fight him off or move away. I pretended it wasn't a big deal. But it was a big deal to me.
The one where for the briefest, most unhinged second that I thought Jack and I could be something.
Then, like an absolute idiot, I played it off like it was nothing .
Gave him a wink, a smirk, the whole nine yards.
And now I have to suffer the consequences, standing here like an unbothered queen while I watch a group of intelligent and intimidatingly beautiful and put-together women flock around the man who wrecked my entire nervous system less than twenty-four hours ago.
Hell, it was the reason for me staying up all night baking ten times more than I usually do, thankfully, because everything is selling out quickly.
Again. I need more help. And not just Mack's help if I'm going to make this work out here while they're filming.
I crunch a piece of ice angrily.
“Easy there, killer,” Ollie mutters, stepping up beside me, coffee in hand. My brother looks half-amused, half-worried, which is the default setting for anyone who knows me well. “ Haven’t seen you look this homicidal since Jack bought the ranch.”
I narrow my eyes at him at the reminder. “I was just admiring the local wildlife.”
“The wildlife?” He follows my gaze to the group of contestants, all standing near Jack, talking to him, making him laugh, and having fun.
Next to them are a bunch of different animals he’s introducing them to.
I want to not like them. But every time one of them comes up to the trailer to get coffee, I realize I could be friends with these women.
They’re smart, funny, and kind. Damnit. I wanted to hate them, but I simply can’t.
I even made plans to eat dinner with a few of them later this week when they have a break from filming. They’re actually so sweet.
Jack stands there, arms crossed, lookingeffortlessly rugged and infuriatingly good. He’s got that "I don’t want to be here, but I look sexy anyway" energy, which is apparently catnip for women on reality television shows.
Ollie snorts into his coffee. “Damn. That’s a lot of hair-flipping for the cameras.”
I exhale slowly, reminding myself that this was not a big deal.That Jack and I are not a thing. That this whole situation is fine, totally fine, because I don’t care what he does or who he does it with.
Not at all. Nope.
“Why are you standing like that?” Ollie asks, side-eying me.
“Like what?” I glare.
“Like you’re trying to hex them with your mind.”
I take a sip of my drink. “If I were hexing them, they’d be running in the opposite direction of Jack.”
“Fair point.” Ollie pauses, his expression shifting to something way too observant for my liking. “This about you and Jack's non-interest in each other? ”
I almost choke on my coffee. “What are you even talking about?”
He looks at me like I just asked if cows lay eggs.
I snort. “That is not what’s happening.”
“Right,” he says, nodding. “Which is exactly why I heard Maggie telling Mrs. Fernandez over at Harvest & Honey that you two are giving off big ‘future Mr. and Mrs. Jessop’ vibes and this show is a waste of time .”
I nearly choke on my coffee. “What? No!”
Ollie grins. “Oh yeah. Whole town’s got bets on when you two finally snap and get together. Maggie’s money is on you breaking first.”
I sputter. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Cami,” he says like he’s talking to a child, “we're just calling it like we see it.”
I groan and press my cold coffee cup against my forehead. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Fine. I mildly dislike you.”
“Still not true.”
I sighed, dragging a hand down my face. “It’s fine, okay? I'm just here to help the Jessops and sell coffee. They’re helping me, I’m helping them. It’s that simple. That’s it.”
Ollie gives a slow nod, then tilts his head. “And yet, here you are, steaming like an overcooked pot roast while watching him flirt with other women.”
“He’s busy finding a wife.” I bite my lip as one of the women reaches out and touches Jack’s arm. He gives her a polite smile, all gentlemanly, and ugh , and my stomach twists in a way I absolutely refuse to acknowledge.
Ollie grins. “Mmhmm.”
“Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything. ”
“You thought something.”
“That’s true.” He sips his coffee. “And it was hilarious .”
I exhale hard and glance back at Jack. Our eyes meet for the briefest second before I look away like a coward. My braid slides over my shoulder as I turn, and I swear I feel his gaze follow the movement.
But I’m probably imagining it.
Or hoping for it. Or both. Damn it.
I shake it off, forcing a smirk. “Well, whatever. He’s the one stuck on this dumb show, not me.”
“Uh-huh. So that’s why you keep checking to see if he’s looking at you?”
“I am not ?—”
Before I can finish, Jack’s voice cuts through the air. “Morning, Cami.”
Oh hell.
I fix my face and turn slowly. “Morning, Jack .”
A corner of his mouth twitches. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Oh, immensely. How’s reality TV treating you?”
He looks at me like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Like a slow, painful death.”
I smirk. “That’s too bad. It looks like you're having so much fun, I was thinking about signing up for my own show. Maybe I’ll find a husband.”
Jack’s entire body stills for half a second. Just long enough for me to see the flicker of something behind his eyes. And maybe, just maybe , it’s a little satisfying.
Then he recovers, tilting his head. “You think you’d last?”
I take a slow sip of my coffee, letting my smirk deepen. “Jack, I’d do great on a show. The real question is, do you think you will? Which one of these lucky ladies is a top contender so far? ”
Ollie whistles low. “Damn. She’s competitive with everything.”
Jack huffs a quiet laugh and shakes his head. But his gaze lingers, flicking down to my braid, then back up to my face like he’s trying to figure me out.
Good luck, Jessop. I’m locking these feelings up like Fort Knox.
I flash him one last smug smile and turn back to Ollie. “Anyway. We should get going. I need your help taking all these empty containers back to Wilder Ranch to bake some more since I've sold out of everything. Again.”
Baking at the Jessop Ranch is good in theory, but I do not want to watch Jack flirt with other women. I can’t do it.
Ollie blinks. “Uh. What?”
I step on his foot.
“Ow—right! Yeah, let's go.” He clears his throat and follows as I turn to gather up everything to take to my truck.
I glance back and don't miss the smug look on Jack's face as he watches me and gives me a grin that I can't help but notice he didn't give to any of the contestants. There was nothing gentlemanly about the way he looked at me like he wanted to wrap my braid around his fist and bend me over this trailer if Ollie hadn’t been here. Or maybe that was me dreaming.
It’s late. Way late.
The kind of late where the rest of the world has gone quiet, where the only sounds are the low hum of my industrial mixer mixing up a batch of icing and the country music twanging from my speaker.
I hadn’t even noticed the sun going down, but now the only light in the kitchen comes from the overhead bulbs and the soft glow spilling from the oven window.
Outside, darkness stretches across the ranch like a thick, quiet blanket.
I have no idea what time it is, and honestly, I don’t care.
I’m in my happy zone with flour on my face, cinnamon under my nails, every surface covered in trays of cookies, loaves of bread, and hand pies that smell like they should be illegal .
I've packed my three tall cooling racks full of cooling pastries, lining them up like soldiers in a sugar-coated army.
The air is thick with the smell of vanilla, caramelized sugar, and browned butter, and my body hums with the kind of tired satisfaction that only comes from hours of getting lost in something you love.
And maybe… just maybe … it’s because keeping busy means not thinking about Jack.