Chapter 17
IZZI
Izzi opened the back door to Cameron’s house and immediately smelled the acrid scent of burning.
‘Is everything okay?’ she asked as her heartbeat notched up, immediately dumping the bags of food she’d bought on her walk home on the rug.
She’d planned to make something extra special to eat tonight, so she’d stopped at the corner shop for ingredients, but it smelled like something had caught fire.
Had Cameron been cooking? Surely not. He’d barely used the toaster since she’d arrived.
‘Everything’s okay and before you ask, the La Cornue is still in one piece, so you don’t have to panic,’ Cameron called back.
‘Well, that’s a relief,’ Izzi joked, removing her shoes and picking up the shopping bags. ‘What about you?’ she asked, heading towards the kitchen, bumping into Cupcake on the way as he blocked her path, wagging his bushy tail excitedly.
‘I’m absolutely fine. Nothing to see here,’ Cameron said, sounding grumpy.
Relieved, Izzi leaned down to scrub a hand over the dog’s head.
‘Good boy,’ she purred and Cupcake leaned into it.
He was definitely warming to her. She suspected it had something to do with the treats she kept baking, but wasn’t going to question it.
She was just pleased he’d finally welcomed her into Cameron’s home.
Now she was staying in his bedroom, she’d rather not be greeted with a growl each time she walked through the door.
‘How do you feel about the name Tank?’ she asked, kneeling so she could look into the German Shepherd’s eyes. The dog glared.
‘I don’t think he wants to be named after a combat vehicle either – can’t say I’m that keen,’ Cameron called out.
Izzi stood and walked into the cosy kitchen and saw he was standing by the sink.
As Izzi drew closer and dropped the bags on the counter, she realised two things.
Firstly, Cameron was holding his hand under running water and secondly, the pungent aroma was coming from somewhere near the oven.
‘Are you okay? Did you accidently forget that you don’t know how to cook?
’ she asked, speeding up so she could check his hand as her stomach contracted with a mixture of concern and fear.
Was this what Flora had been talking about when she’d mentioned Cameron’s tea leaf reading?
She was supposed to be keeping an eye on him – had he burned himself badly?
Izzi hadn’t seen Cameron for a few hours.
He’d left the castle soon after helping her to hang the giant spiders from the ceiling, citing a customer issue and she hadn’t heard from him for the rest of the afternoon.
She’d half expected him to still be with the client, especially since he hadn’t returned to the castle, so finding him at home was a surprise.
Lachlan had offered to drive her here, but Izzi had refused because she knew she’d enjoy the walk.
There was something about the crisp, fresh air, about the simple act of kicking the shallow piles of golden autumn leaves as she went.
Of following the pavement that traced the high street and stopping now and then to peer into the various shop windows so she could admire the Halloween decorations that had begun to emerge.
She’d seen Flora, Erin and Cat on the way, so had spent time shopping and catching up with them, discussing plans for the festival and lamenting Maud’s continued intention to go to Edinburgh.
It had been oddly comforting, and she was really starting to feel at home.
Which was concerning, because she’d be leaving in a matter of weeks.
Falling in love with this village and the people in it would be a mistake.
‘I didn’t forget anything and I’m fine,’ Cameron answered, finally switching off the tap and dabbing his hand with a towel. She saw him wince before trying to smother it with a smile.
‘You’ve hurt yourself,’ Izzi said, shaking her head. ‘What did you do?’
He shrugged. ‘It’s just a burn, nothing serious,’ he said, before glaring at the La Cornue. ‘I think that thing might hold a grudge.’
Izzi gave him a half-smile. ‘If you hadn’t touched me for almost eight months, I might feel the same. What were you doing?’
Izzi glanced around searching for a clue and noticed a colourful flower arrangement on the breakfast bar.
It was a bouquet with dark red roses, lilies, orange marigolds, eucalyptus sprigs and dried wheat and it was stunning.
‘Did you get flowers from a customer?’ she asked.
‘They’re beautiful.’ She went to smell them, momentarily distracted by the gorgeous scent.
When she turned again, Cameron was staring at her looking awkward, holding his injured hand in his other palm.
‘Can I dress it?’ she asked, walking to open the cupboard where he kept the first aid kit. She heard him mutter something about it not being necessary as she opened the kit, found the aloe vera gel and then drew some clingfilm from one of the other drawers.
‘Do you need me to kiss it better?’ she asked gently, as she carefully took his hand and pulled a face. There was a vivid splash of red on the top of Cameron’s right hand and it looked sore. It wasn’t a bad burn, but she’d had enough of her own to understand it would be painful.
‘You can kiss me better whenever you like,’ he said as she carefully applied the gel and took a moment to cover his hand with the clingfilm, all the while feeling the heat from his gaze, the way her stomach bunched and released. Their chemistry was electric and showed no sign of abating.
‘Why don’t I get dinner ready and while it’s cooking, I’d be happy to,’ she said, smiling when his eyes darkened.
‘I was supposed to be surprising you with dinner,’ he said, his cheeks flushing.
‘I made something but—’ His gaze shifted to the sink and Izzi saw a large aubergine-coloured dish in the bottom, filled with something she couldn’t quite identify because it was so charred.
‘It was supposed to be a lasagne, but your evil oven decided to incinerate it. I think it might be possessed. Perhaps we should change locations and do a tour of my kitchen for Halloween.’ His eyes narrowed and she tried not to chuckle.
‘I appreciate you trying to cook for me,’ she said, touched. ‘I picked up some things from the corner shop, so we won’t starve…’
‘I’m going to help.’ He jerked his chin.
‘I made you something else,’ he said quietly, as the pink stain spread across his cheeks and dipped to his neck.
He went to open one of the food cupboards and drew out a plate.
When Izzi saw what was on it, her stomach went into freefall – because it was a cake, a chocolate one.
It was a little misshapen, but it didn’t matter.
Cameron had iced it before adding ‘Happy Birthday’ in a pink swirl.
He’d even put a single candle in the centre. It was perfect.
‘It won’t taste as good as yours,’ he said, avoiding her eyes. ‘I’ve never baked anything before which is embarrassing considering I’m related to Maud. I’m a builder, not a cook, but I wanted to—’
‘You know it’s my birthday?’ Izzi asked, still stunned. She gazed at the cake as he placed it on the breakfast bar next to the flowers. How had he known?
‘I saw the messages on your mobile,’ Cameron admitted, shifting closer, looking sheepish.
‘I looked when you went to the truck to pick up the hooks. It went off and I’m sorry I invaded your privacy,’ he sounded angry and she wondered if it was with himself.
‘It was just, I don’t know.’ He put the cake on the table and shoved a hand through his hair but didn’t elaborate.
‘It’s okay.’ Izzi felt a tear slide down her cheek and swiped at it.
‘What’s wrong, is it because I read your messages?’ he asked, looking stricken. ‘Because I won’t do it again.’
‘No!’ She shook her head as the tears continued to flow, hot and fast now.
His eyes widened. ‘Then it’s the cake. I know it’s not that good, and it probably tastes like garbage, but I don’t think it’s worth crying over.
Look I’ll put it away, we can throw it out or feed it to the squirrels.
They eat roof tiles, so I’m sure they’ll be up for it.
If they aren’t, I’m going to be really offended.
’ He immediately picked up the plate and went to put it back in the cupboard, but Izzi held up a palm and he stopped.
‘No, please, don’t,’ she said as the ball of emotion lodged in her throat grew and her tears continued. ‘It’s absolutely perfect.’ She hiccupped.
His forehead creased. ‘Izzi, people don’t usually cry when you bake something perfect for them,’ he said. ‘If they did, my grandma would have to offer a box of free Kleenex to every customer. She’d be broke in a month.’
‘I can’t help it.’ She sniffed.
‘Why?’ his voice was so kind she had to hold back another sob.
Nothing had ever touched her like this. Made her feel so happy and yet so utterly vulnerable.
She fought the urge to wrap her arms around herself.
She didn’t want to alarm Cameron, but she couldn’t control the swell of emotion swamping her.
‘It’s just—’ She pressed her hands into her eyes and took in a long breath.
‘What?’ he asked, suddenly wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close.
She nuzzled into his warm chest, pressing her nose into the hollow of his throat, and gulped in another breath, trying to commit his smell to memory.
Cinnamon and cloves mixed with something so intrinsically Cameron that she couldn’t describe it.