Chapter Twenty
By February 12th, the anticipation for Valentine’s Day had enveloped Hickory Falls, but nowhere was it felt more keenly than within the walls of Camellia’s Creations. Cammie and Allen worked side by side, assembling arrangements and forming the bases for intricate designs with hearty flowers and greenery. Both kept one eye on the door, waiting for the helium tanks and balloon shipment to arrive.
Allen had already practiced filling and sealing balloons with Cammie’s special clips. It had taken a few tries to master twisting the ribbon and balloon neck into place, but now the shop was filled with elegant clusters of red and pink balloons, each tied to weights. A few still floated freely on the ceiling, awaiting the arrival of additional supplies.
He was carefully trimming stems for her when the shop bell chimed.
“Be right there,” Cammie called, placing the final blooms into a damp florist foam-lined basket. She hurried out, tossing over her shoulder, “Will you slide that arrangement into the cooler while I help this customer?”
Allen did as instructed but froze mid-step when a smooth male voice drifted from the shop.
“Camellia, it’s good to see you. We need to talk.”
So, the new hearing aids are working , he thought wryly, moving closer to the doorway, his body tensing instinctively.
“What do you want, Judson? Did your mother call you?” Cammie asked, crossing her arms protectively over her middle. She hoped to get rid of him quickly—he usually didn’t stick around very long.
“Both my parents called, actually,” he said with a sneer, his gaze sweeping the shop. “Thanks for trying to ruin everything. This layout is better than the one in Glacier Ridge, but it still feels tired and, frankly, hillbilly. I’d hoped some of my refined taste might have rubbed off on you during our six years of engagement. Guess some rocks just can’t be polished.”
“It was four years,” Cammie corrected quietly, refusing to take the bait. To her surprise, his insults didn’t sting the way they once had.
“We’ve been engaged six years, Camellia. You may have taken off the ring, but we never officially ended things,” he said, his tone patronizing, as though correcting a forgetful child.
Cammie straightened her shoulders as he continued, rattling off their itinerary with the indifference of someone reciting a grocery list.
“Our parents arrive tomorrow. I’ve arranged a delivery service for your flowers so we can spend Valentine’s Day together. We have an engagement photoshoot in the morning and wedding planning with our mothers in the afternoon. That evening, we’ll fly out for a special date.”
“The engagement party is set for Saturday—Hunter canceled all other reservations, so the restaurant is ours. Friends are flying in from London, Paris, and Milan.”
Shifting his weight slightly, his tone took on a smug edge. “Gianna will bring an outfit for you from Milan when she arrives tomorrow; she’s helping with the shoot. People Magazine will be covering it all—they won the exclusive on our wedding.”
He paused, stepping closer as his finger traced her cheek, the touch sending a shiver of revulsion down her spine. “Smile, Camellia,” he said, his tone softening but no less unsettling. “You’re finally getting married. All your dreams are about to come true.”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes.
Allen stepped up beside her, his presence solid and reassuring, as he wrapped a protective arm around her waist. Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss to her temple and whispered, “Hello, beautiful,” his now-familiar greeting.
Judson’s gaze darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Camellia,” he barked, his tone sharp with authority, the same voice he likely used in court when dismantling a witness. “Who is this?”
“The name’s Allen. I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but it’s not,” Allen said, his voice calm and unyielding as he met Judson’s steely gaze without flinching. If Judson thought he could intimidate him, he was in for a rude awakening. Allen had survived missions in the world’s most dangerous regions and fought ruthless men. Cammie’s pompous ex-fiancé didn’t hold a candle to the evil he’d faced.
The tension between the two men crackled like static as their silent standoff stretched longer than Cammie expected. Judson’s jaw clenched, but eventually, he turned his attention back to Cammie, clearly deciding she was the easier target. Allen’s arms came up to encircle her fully.
“Kind of hard to have a boyfriend when you’re already engaged, Camellia. Your mother wouldn’t approve of this,” Judson said, his tone dripping with disdain. “Stop this nonsense and come with me. We need to get your things moved into the chalet before our parents arrive. It’s better suited for family gatherings than my villa.” He flicked his fingers in an impatient, summoning gesture.
When she didn’t move, instead leaning further into Allen’s solid embrace, her hand gripping his forearm, Judson’s nostrils flared in irritation. Allen tightened his hold in silent support, his steady strength a stark contrast to Judson’s growing frustration.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Cammie said, her voice firm as she lifted her chin confidently. “And how dare you throw this on me when you were the one who snuck off to Europe and got engaged. I wouldn’t know what it’s like to have a fiancé and a boyfriend at the same time, but you seem to have managed two fiancés with no trouble. I wonder what our parents will think about that.”
She glared at him. “Tell me, Judson, is your little blonde model at your villa? Is that why your parents aren’t welcome at your large private estate? Or did you already tire of her after two years?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Cam,” he said, his tone dismissive. “The blonde who stayed at the chalet for a few months was a client, nothing more. You let gossip get to you and used it as an excuse to pull us apart. We’ll talk this out, and everything will be fine. Let’s go,” he ordered through clenched teeth, his tone growing sharper.
“She was there for over a year, Judson. I know for a fact because I delivered your Valentine’s Day bouquet to her two years in a row. That’s 365 days between deliveries. You may treat me like a moron, but I’ve never been stupid.” Anger sharpened her tone. “And I’m not going anywhere with you. There will be no wedding. There is no engagement. There is no us. Now, leave. I never want to see you again.”
Cammie’s voice was firm, unwavering, filled with a confidence she barely recognized. Was it because Allen was standing beside her, his steady presence grounding her? Or had she grown more self-assured in the past month? She wasn’t sure, but at the moment, it didn’t matter.
Judson reached out, his hand hovering near her arm, but Allen’s low, menacing growl stopped him cold. “I wouldn’t.”
Judson jerked his hand back as if scalded, his glare narrowing on Allen. His nostrils flared in indignation, but his sneer quickly returned. “Fine. Have it your way. I’ll let our parents know you’ve chosen to leave me for this… blue-collar worker. My father will have no choice but to rescind his threats to disown me, reinstate my trust, and secure my position at the family firm. So, congratulations, Cammie—you’ve just solved my little problem nicely.”
His gaze swept over the shop, contempt clear in his voice as he scoffed, “Enjoy your scowler, Cam. We both know you were never good enough for me.”
As Judson reached the door, he paused, a malicious grin spreading across his face. Without warning, he swept his arm across the top shelf of spa baskets on display. Glass shattered as the baskets crashed onto the hardwood floor, the sound echoing through the shop.
Allen lunged toward the door, his fists clenched, but Cammie caught his arm. “Just hold me,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
He hesitated for a moment, releasing his anger before turning back to her, wrapping her in an embrace that had become almost second nature. Her tears soaked into the front of his shirt as his hand gently stroked her hair. His voice was low and steady, a grounding presence amid the chaos.
“You are loved. You are safe. You are not alone. I’ve got you. He’s out of your life for good. You’ve got this, sweetheart.”
Cammie had been calming when his last words registered. They were new, and she pulled back to meet his gaze. The tenderness in Allen’s gorgeous blue eyes tugged painfully at her heart—no one had ever looked at her that way before. Could he have fallen in love with her? In only a month? Was that even possible?
Doubt crept in. Could she trust her judgment after the disaster with Judson? She had once thought him a good man, only to realize too late how wrong she had been. Judson had been a mistake—unquestionably.
But was Allen truly different? Or was she blinded by his kindness, by the way he had been there for her during her most vulnerable moments these past forty days?
As she looked into his eyes, all she could think about was kissing him. The longing she saw there mirrored her own, and she wanted nothing more than to feel his lips pressed to hers. Slowly, she leaned in, tilting her face up toward his, but he pulled back slightly, cupping her cheeks instead. His rough thumbs brushed her skin with a tenderness that made her heart ache as he said, “Not now. Not like this. When we kiss for the first time, it won’t be to erase the bad taste of a horrible ex. It will be because you want me, and I want you— with no doubts clouding our intentions. Trust me, Cammie. If we kiss now, that memory will be forever tainted by Judson. I want better for us.”
He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, the gesture soothing her swirling emotions.
Cammie closed her eyes and breathed in the comforting scent of Allen—sandalwood and musk, mingled with the natural essence of a hard day’s work. Judson had always reeked of overpriced cologne, sharp and cloying, often leaving her with a headache. Allen’s scent was different. It was something she could sink into, something that made her feel safe. He was right; her judgment tonight had been off and could have ruined everything.
When Allen asked if she was ready to lock up and head to dinner, she shook her head, claiming exhaustion after the ordeal with Judson. A bath and bed sounded far more appealing. Allen didn’t press her, only kissed her tenderly on the head, wishing her goodnight.
Sleep didn’t come easily. Her mind was in chaos over her relationship with Judd, her friendship with Allen that teetered on the edge of something more, and her history of poor choices. She needed Allen in her life—at least for now—while she acclimated to her new life.
She couldn’t risk losing him, not like tonight, when their almost-kiss had threatened to complicate everything. She had to pull back, go back to arm’s length. No more lingering embraces. No more head kisses that made her toes curl and insides warm. And those longing looks into his mesmerizing cornflower-blue eyes? They were dangerous. Too dangerous.
Starting tomorrow, Allen Calhoun was officially in her friend zone.