Chapter 4
four
Rosalie
Cameron scoots out from underneath the truck, his T-shirt smeared with grease and dirt, hair sticking up in every direction. He looks rugged and real in a way that hits me harder than it should. I can’t help but be struck by how incredibly handsome he is.
It’s been so long since I’ve noticed someone like this—since I’ve let myself. Between my daughter, school, and everything else, there hasn’t been a lot of time for dating, let alone sex. Maybe that’s why the sight of him sends a thrum of excitement through me I can’t quite ignore.
l drag my eyes to his face and my mouth drops, but not like the first time. Cameron has a giant knot already forming on his forehead. I guess he can tell it’s not quite admiration radiating from my gaze because he reaches up to touch the spot where I’m staring and winces.
“Shit, that hurts.”
“Cameron, I’m so sorry,” I say, reaching out to touch it without thinking. Not only do I want to make sure he’s okay, but the vet in me has this need to check on wounds.
Not that I’m comparing Cameron to a horse. He’s definitely not a horse. He is, however, a very tall, very muscular, and very attractive man—all things I can see and feel now that I’m all up in his personal space.
Without realizing it, I’ve put my hand on his bicep to steady myself, and I feel his arm tense beneath me.
When I instinctively look up at his face to see if I’ve hurt him, I realize his eyes are on my mouth, which happens to be a whole hell of a lot closer since I had to rise up on my toes to get a better look at his forehead.
“It looks fairly minor,” I say, my voice coming out a little breathy. I shake my head, lower myself from my tiptoes, and clear my throat before speaking with a bit more confidence than I feel. “Maybe just ice it when you get home.”
Cameron backs away with a gruff, “Thank you,” and proceeds to take the tire from me and heads toward the back of the truck.
We spend the next thirty-five minutes changing my flat tire. Something that goes significantly faster with Cameron’s help.
As he removes the wheel chocks from the trailer and I throw my tools into the bed of my truck, I find myself disappointed our time together is coming to an end.
He walks me to my driver’s side door, and we awkwardly face each other. He looks a bit shy now, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.
Wanting to keep the mood light, I look up, smile, and slap him on the shoulder like we’re old pals.
“Well, honey, you did good.”
He chokes out a laugh, and I love the sound.
“The pleasure was all mine, ma’am,” he says with an imaginary tip of a hat, and we both smile widely at each other. Then, a bit more seriously, he says, “It really was a pleasure meeting you, Rosalie.”
“Same, Cameron. And thanks so much for pulling over to help me.”
We stare just a bit longer before Paige smashes her mouth through the opening at the top of the window and says, “I’m Paige, and I’m really hungry.”
It’s then I realize the sun has almost entirely set, and we still have a bit of a drive before we’re anywhere close to home or a restaurant where I can get dinner for us.
Cameron turns to the window, unfazed by the fact that you can only see the lower part of my child’s face, and says, “Hi Paige, I’m Cameron. What are you hungry for?”
“I want a big chocolate milk with lots of chicken nuggets!” she exclaims.
“That’s my kind of dinner,” he responds, and I smile at their exchange. I love that he appears undaunted by Paige’s interruptions.
“Yes!” Paige squeals and thrusts her hand out through the opening of the window.
Cameron laughs and brings his hand to hers for a high five.
His hand is so big it dwarfs hers, and I can’t help but think of all the other things this man might have that are just as big.
My cheeks heat at the accompanying visual, and I mentally chastise myself for having these thoughts while he’s interacting with my daughter.
Cameron looks at me, his expression showing a glint of hope.
“I’m unsure where you’re headed, but I’m on my way to a town called Winhaven.
It’s about fifteen miles from here and has an excellent local restaurant that serves the best fried chicken you’ll ever eat.
I’m headed there myself. You could follow me if you want. ”
Excitement bubbles inside me at the revelation Cameron and I are going the same direction. Not wanting to give too much away, I school my features. He’s basically a stranger, and I can’t be doling out all my personal information to him here on the side of the road.
“Yes! Mom! Chicken! Please!” Her little mouth is up against the gap in the window again. She pauses. “Um, Mr. Cameron, what about the chocolate milk?”
Cameron laughs. “Yep, they have that, too. The best chocolate milk from the best chocolate cows, obviously.”
I hear Paige whisper, “Yes!” as she sits back down.
Cameron turns to me, face hopeful.
“It’s late and I can’t afford any more long stops on this trip.” Not technically a lie. I really do want to get to the rental. He doesn’t have to know Winhaven is actually our last stop.
“That’s okay, they have a drive-thru. Let me make this part easier on you. Plus, I’m starving, too.”
His expression is so sincere, I cave. “Sure, that would be great.”
“Great,” he echoes, while backing up toward his Jeep with a huge smile on his face. “Just follow me.”
I turn and hop back in my truck, hiding my own giddy smile. I turn around and tell Paige to buckle up before pulling out behind Cameron.
The fifteen-mile drive to Winhaven is filled with stomach flutters and a whole lot of overthinking.
“What am I doing?” I mutter to myself.
Well, the obvious answer is following a hot guy to grab food on a Friday night.
This would be a fantastic answer if the hot guy wasn’t essentially a freaking stranger I met on the side of the road.
I shake my head, chastising myself, and refocus on the road just in time to realize we’re pulling into town.
A Welcome to Winhaven sign greets us, and a whole new round of butterflies erupt in my stomach, this time from pure excitement. We’re finally here.
I follow Cameron through the small town that’s set to be our home for the foreseeable future, and am comforted to see people out and about walking the streets after sunset.
It’s giving me the same reassuring feeling of being at home in downtown Fort Collins or Loveland, and it eases some of my nerves.
There are charming little shops lining both sides of the street with adorable display windows advertising delicious baked goods, handmade furniture, and more.
Among the many small shops are a market, a hardware store, and several quaint-looking restaurants, with patrons sitting outside enjoying their meals in the cooler evening weather.
As I slowly follow Cameron through town, I can’t help but notice the way his forearm casually rests on the windowsill of his Jeep, allowing him to easily wave at those passing by as they walk down Main Street.
Judging by the numerous times he outstretches his hand to wave, he appears to know just about everyone in Winhaven.
Eventually, Cameron turns down a side street and into the parking lot of a restaurant that looks suspiciously like an enlarged chicken coop.
The sign, which displays a chicken sitting on a nest of chili peppers, reads The Spicy Chicken, and the excited smile that’s been plastered on my face since we entered Winhaven widens.
My stomach growls loudly as I follow Cameron and the signs for the drive-thru to the back of the restaurant.
I’m starving, and I know Paige is, too, so when it occurs to me that my U-Haul won’t fit through the drive-thru, I deflate.
Now I’m going to have to find a place to park this gigantic thing, unload my daughter—who is growing hangrier by the second—and walk inside to order.
I pull into the first spot that works for us and start to unbuckle when there’s a knock at my window.
“Holy shit!” I scream while clutching my chest.
I was so focused on parking and mentally figuring out what to order so we could get in and get out that I hadn’t realized Cameron had also parked and gotten out of his Jeep.
I open my door, laughing at my ridiculous response, and twist my body to face him. For the second time this evening, Cameron has his hands up with a remorseful look on his face.
“Shit, Rosalie. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just saw you pull over and came to check on you.”
“It’s not your fault,” I say through a huff of laughter. “Sorry, I just responded like you were an axe murderer. I realized the U-Haul won’t fit through the drive-thru, and I’m about to head in with Paige and grab something quickly.”
“No. Absolutely not,” Cameron says. “You’ve had a long day, let me go in and grab it for you.”
I’m so tired, I don’t even bother arguing. I simply thank him, give him our order and some cash, and take a deep breath. Between the long day and being scared half to death only moments ago by my own stupidity, I need a moment.
“Um, Mommy, you said a bad word, and so did Mr. Cameron.”
I roll my head along the headrest and make eye contact with daughter. “Yeah, Paige. I did. I got scared and it was the first thing to come out of my mouth and I’m sorry…but kids should not say it, okay?”
“Okay.”
I breathe out another sigh, grateful my honest and straightforward answer was enough for her this time.
Cameron comes back out with our food and drinks and a sheepish smile. “Rosalie, I’m sorry again for startling you,” he says as he hands me the bag of food.
I take it and reassure him everything is completely fine. “I promise you, it was me. I was in my own head. You did nothing wrong.”
I smile and for a moment we’re both quiet, just staring at each other.
“Thank you so much for everything,” I say, just as he says, “Do you need anything else?”
We both laugh, then look away, unsure what to say next.
Finally, Cameron breaks the silence.
“This was an excellent first date, Rosalie. Truly one of the best first dates I’ve ever had.”
I blink at him, sure I’ve misheard. A date? My mouth opens, but before I can correct him, his smile grows infinitely bigger, crinkling the corners of his eyes—no longer sheepish but back to that panty-melting level of confidence I’m quickly learning is dangerous.
He nods toward the bag in my hand before tapping the top of my truck and slowly backing away. “And if you ever want to go on a second one, I wrote my number on the back of your receipt.”
For a moment, I sit there gripping the bag in one hand and the steering wheel in the other, half tempted to laugh, half tempted to roll the window up and drive away before my common sense melts along with the rest of me.
This is precisely what I don’t need right now—a charming man with wit for days, grease on his hands, and trouble written in the lines of his smile. I’ve just moved to a new state. New job. New start. My daughter needs stability, not a mom distracted by broad shoulders and easy banter.
“This isn’t a date!” I yell after him, because that’s the only defense I’ve got left.
He pauses his retreat and gives me that same disarming grin—softer this time, almost sincere—and says, “Sure it is. And I’m really hoping it won’t be the last.”
Then he turns back toward his Jeep, hops in, and drives off, leaving me staring after him and trying very hard not to smile like an idiot.
I look inside the bag, and sure enough, there’s my receipt, sitting with the cash I gave him to pay for dinner. I flip the receipt over and see his note.
It was a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me.
Signed with his name and phone number.