Seeking His Love (3 page)

T
he tantalizing aroma of fresh-brewed coffee floated by Cam’s nose. He sniffed and looked up from cleaning the glass on his latest framing project.

Ross crossed the shop carrying two tall disposable cups. “One cream, two sugars.” He held out a cup to Cam.

“Thanks. I owe you.” He took a sip and scalded his tongue.

“You certainly do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His friend looked at him over the top of his glasses. “I saved your hide at the meeting last night, and you know it. If it weren’t for me you would’ve totally alienated everyone.”

Cam pulled off the plastic lid and blew across the top of the coffee. “Not everyone. Melanie agreed with me.”

Ross huffed out a laugh. “That doesn’t count. We both know she’d agree to put in a tattoo parlor if you wanted it, and we know why.” He wiggled his dark eyebrows and grinned like a Cheshire cat.

“I wish you’d leave it alone.” Cam scowled at Ross. He usually ignored those jabs, but he was not in the mood today.

“Okay.” Ross lifted his hand. “I won’t mention it again.”

Right. Cam would believe that when it happened. Ross
loved to give him a hard time about Melanie’s not-so-subtle hints that she’d like to be more than friends. But he also brought him coffee most mornings, shared take out pizza at least once a week, and wasn’t put off by his moods. He supposed he could take a little ribbing from a friend like that.

Cam picked up a soft cloth and wiped a speck of dust from the corner of the frame. “I still can’t believe we’re going to be sharing our building with a kids’ theater company. I’ll probably have to invest in soundproofing and up my liability insurance.”

“Come on, Cam. It won’t be so bad. Maybe it’ll bring some life into this place.”

“Yeah. Life. Just what we need.” He shook his head and took another gulp of coffee.

“It’s a done deal. So you might as well…” Ross leaned left, looking past Cam’s shoulder. A smile broke over his face. “Well, look who’s here.”

Cam turned and glanced out the window. A shiny black truck with the back full of boxes and furniture pulled into the loading zone out front. The driver’s side door opened, and Rachel Clark hopped out.

His stomach tightened, and coffee-laced acid rose and burned his throat.

She must’ve known they were in a tough spot, and they’d have to say yes to her proposal. She’d probably already packed before the meeting last night.

Rachel walked around behind the truck and lowered the tailgate. Placing her hands on her hips, she studied the jumbled load for a second before she reached for the first box.

Ross set his coffee on Cam’s desk. “Looks like she needs some help, and I’m just the man for the job.” He walked to the doorway and turned back to Cam. “You coming?”

Cam frowned as he watched Rachel lift a large box. Her bouncy ponytail, faded blue jeans and navy hooded sweatshirt
made her look like a college student rather than the thirty-something professional he’d met yesterday. They also made her look way too appealing.

He quickly squelched that thought. “No, I’ve got to get this done before noon.”

Ross shrugged. “Okay. Suit yourself.” He turned and headed out the door.

Cam downed the last of his coffee, crushed his empty cup and threw it in the trash can. What was wrong with him? It would only take a few minutes to finish the framing project. There was plenty of time to help Rachel unload her truck. So, she was attractive. That didn’t mean he had to stretch the truth to his friend and hide out in his shop like some kind of hermit.

Ross called out a greeting to Rachel, and the words floated back to Cam through the open window. He watched Ross jog out to meet her and take the box from her arms. She thanked him and flashed a killer smile.

Cam strained to hear their comments, but he couldn’t catch the words.

Ross walked backward toward the building, toting the box and keeping an eye on Rachel as she returned to the truck.

Cam’s frown deepened. What was up with that? Was Ross afraid she’d trip or something? Then it hit him—he was probably just enjoying the view.

Cam groaned and forced his gaze back to his work. Grabbing the power screwdriver from the shelf, he lined up the D-hook and positioned the screw. His hands stilled as he heard them enter the building.

Ross made a joke about needing backup lights to avoid a collision. Rachel laughed, sending a clear message she was enjoying Ross’s help. Neither of them looked Cam’s way when they passed his open door.

He clenched his jaw and drove the screw into the frame.
It didn’t matter. She had the help she needed. Ross would take care of her. That’s what he wanted, right?

Cam continued working, but he kept an eye on Rachel and Ross as they made three more trips to the truck. The fourth time outside, they scooted a large metal desk toward the tailgate. When they reached the edge, Ross hopped down to survey the situation and give Rachel directions.

Cam stared out the window. The old desk must weigh a ton. What was Ross thinking? Did he expect Rachel to help him haul that thing inside?

He set aside the screwdriver, then dashed out the door. His footsteps pounded down the hall, while his thoughts bounced back and forth like a crazy tennis ball.

He did not want to get involved with Rachel Clark.

Moving furniture into her office was not
getting involved.
He was simply helping out, doing the right thing. What could be wrong with doing what was right?

A lot!

Rachel strained forward, shoving the desk toward the tailgate. Oh brother, she was going to feel this tomorrow. She should’ve listened to her friend, Suzanne, and left it at the church. That would’ve been the smart thing to do.

But, once again, she didn’t do the smart thing.

Ross jumped down from the truck, then looked up at her. “I think we can angle it down and slide it off the back.” He motioned with his hands, demonstrating the process.

Rachel suppressed a smile. Ross Peterson was about as sweet as they come, but he obviously didn’t have much experience moving furniture. If she tipped this desk over the edge and he tried to catch it, he would end up like a squished beetle on the sidewalk.

She straightened and wiped her sweaty hands on her pants’ legs. “I don’t know. It’s pretty heavy. Maybe I should—”

“Wait!” Cam jogged down the sidewalk toward them. He sent Ross a scathing glance. “What are you trying to do, kill her?”

Rachel blinked. He was worried about her? Ross was the one about to be flattened by this overweight hunk of steel.

“We were just going to ease it out and slide it to the ground,” Ross said.

Cam shook his head. “Not a good idea. Come on down, Rachel.” He held out his hand to her.

She hesitated a split second, then took it and jumped down, hoping for a graceful landing. She wobbled slightly. His warm, sturdy grip tightened. Their gazes locked, and awareness zinged along her nerves.

He dropped her hand and spun away. “Come on, Ross.”

The lanky photographer jumped forward and grabbed one side, while Cam gripped the other. They tugged the desk out over the edge, then tilted it and slowly lowered it to the ground. Cam moved to the opposite end, and the two men hoisted it in the air.

“Want me to take a corner?” Rachel asked.

“No! Get the door,” Cam puffed as he and Ross hustled past.

“Okay.” She ran up the steps and opened the door just in time for them to pass through. Sweat glistened on both men’s foreheads, and they panted in time with their steps. Once inside, they slowed and Ross adjusted his grip on the desk.

“You got it?” Cam barked, deep lines creasing his forehead.

“Yea, but this’ll probably give me a hernia.”

Rachel blew out a deep breath. Oh, why hadn’t she ditched that desk and bought one of those inexpensive, snap-together models that come in a box? Or she could’ve checked the classifieds and found a used one…anything would be lighter than this monster.

The men rounded the corner and headed down the hall toward her new office. Ross groaned, his end almost dragging on the floor.

“Don’t drop it!” Cam grunted and raised his side higher.

Ross glared at Cam and kept shuffling along.

Rachel scurried ahead and opened the door. Boxes littered the floor. She hustled inside and pushed them aside to make a clear path.

“Where do you want this?” Cam looked over his shoulder as he backed through the doorway.

“Over here by the filing cabinet.” She pointed to the corner, not wanting to add one extra step to their journey.

Cam led the way to the far side of the room and looked back at her with a lift of his brow.

The desk was a bit too close to the wall, but she wasn’t about to redirect them now. “That’s fine.”

Ross dropped his end to the floor with a bang, startling them all. Cam swayed under the load. Rachel rushed forward to help. Cam lurched, and the desk landed on his toe. His eye’s widened, and his mouth formed a perfect O, but no sound came out.

Rachel gasped and grabbed the desk, lifting the end a few inches off the ground. Cam jerked his foot out and hobbled to the window, silently clenching his fists.

Rachel shuddered and closed her eyes. Now Cam had another reason to hate her.

Rachel pushed the filing cabinet closer to the corner, then stood back to take a look. Perfect. She brushed off her hands and scanned her new office with a satisfied smile.

It had only taken about two hours to move in, much less time than she’d expected. Ross and Cam had certainly gone out of their way to help. After they left, she’d managed to
shove her desk over a few more inches so it wouldn’t be in the way when she opened her filing cabinet. Then she’d unpacked her files and books and set up her desk.

She bit her lip and leaned back against her desk. Too bad the desk had landed on Cam’s toes. She’d apologized profusely—after she’d given him a few seconds to cool off. He’d insisted he was fine. But the way he limped out to get the last few boxes made it clear his foot hurt more than he’d let on. When they finished carrying in the boxes, he silently retreated to his shop, leaving her wondering if he’d ever speak to her again.

There must be some way she could make up for those crushed toes.

The faint scent of cinnamon floated through the air toward her. She glanced at the rectangular pan sitting by the window. The afternoon sunlight shone on the foil probably warming the cinnamon rolls to the perfect temperature. She’d brought them along in case some of her drama students stopped by to see the new location.

Maybe she’d pay Cam a little visit and bring him a peace offering. After all, weren’t homemade cinnamon rolls a sure way into the good graces of any man?

She peeked in the mirror she’d hung on the wall moments before and shook her head. Her ponytail had come loose, and several strands of hair hung around her face.

That would never do. She pulled off the elastic band and grabbed a brush from her purse. After a quick brushing, she gathered her hair up in one hand and surveyed her reflection. She sucked in her cheeks and made a silly fish face, then let her hair go and brushed it out again. That was better.

She huffed and rolled her eyes. Why was she so concerned about how she looked? She was simply going to deliver the cinnamon rolls and try to bridge the gap between her and Cam before it grew any wider.

Right. Who was she trying to fool? Cam was an attractive man, in a mysterious, moody kind of way. She smiled, remembering how he looked hefting the heavy desk out of the truck. He was obviously strong and fit, and he’d come running when she needed help today.

But she was definitely not going to let herself get carried away with any romantic daydreams about him. She had no idea where he stood spiritually. And that was much more important to her than outward appearance or superficial kindness. Investing in a relationship that was destined to go nowhere was a bad idea. She’d made that mistake before, and suffered for it.

She tossed the hairbrush back in her purse. This whole line of thinking was silly. Even if Cam turned out to be a spiritual giant, he obviously didn’t like her or the idea of having her kids in the building. As far as she could tell, they had nothing in common. And with his tight-lipped attitude, getting to know him any better seemed like a remote possibility.

Even a pan of homemade cinnamon rolls wasn’t going to change that.

“W
hat do you think of this one?” Ross held up a 16 by 20 black-and-white photo of an old man and his bulldog watching an Alaska-bound ferry depart from the dock.

“I like it.” Cam settled on the tall stool behind his workbench. “Looks like he wishes he was leaving on that ferry instead of being left behind.”

Ross nodded. “I was thinking of a pearl-gray mat, about three inches, with a simple black frame.”

“Sounds good.” Cam pulled three corner-shaped frame samples from the wall behind him. Footsteps approached, and he glanced toward the door.

Rachel stepped into view carrying a foil-covered pan. She’d taken down her ponytail, and her dark hair brushed her shoulders. Her brown eyes glowed as she sent him a hesitant smile.

Cam swallowed and shifted his gaze away.

“Hi. I thought you guys might like a snack.”

“Sure.” Ross motioned her into the shop. “What’ve you got there?”

“Cinnamon rolls.” She crossed the room and set the pan on the workbench.

Cam frowned. Sticky icing was the last thing he wanted in his workspace.

“Sounds great.” Ross hovered nearby as she pulled off the foil. “Wow, are those homemade?”

She nodded, a slight blush filling her cheeks. “Well, sort of. I made the dough in a bread machine.”

Ross rubbed his hands together. “Hey, that’s homemade in my book.”

Cam leaned forward slightly and pulled in a deep breath. They smelled great and looked even better.

“I thought we might need these.” Rachel pulled a wad of white paper napkins from her jeans pocket and laid them on the workbench. “You want to try one?”

Cam’s empty stomach gurgled. “Sure. Thanks.”

Gooey icing dripped down the side as she passed him a large fluffy roll. He took a bite, and cinnamon sweetness burst on his tongue. Closing his eyes, he let the buttery roll melt in his mouth. Man, oh man, this was amazing.

Ross bit into his roll and moaned. “Oh. My. Goodness! You should go into business. No, wait. Don’t let anyone taste these. Save them all for me.”

She laughed. “So you like them?”

Ross grinned and nodded.

“Mmm-hmm,” Cam mumbled, his neck warming as he took another bite.

A slow smile tucked in the corners of her mouth. She cut a roll in half and joined them. Ross asked her when the drama classes would start. She gave him the rundown, while Cam licked his fingers and took the second half of her cinnamon roll from the pan.

“Once summer classes and rehearsals begin it would save me a lot of driving time if I could find a place of my own down here.”

“Where are you staying now?” Ross asked.

“Up in North Bellingham with a friend.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Do you guys know anyone who has an apartment for rent in this area?”

Panic flashed along Cam’s nerves, and he shot a warning glance at Ross, but his friend was focused on Rachel.

“We sure do.” Ross patted Cam on the shoulder. “Cam’s been renovating the second floor of his house into a separate apartment.” He glanced at Cam. “You’re almost done, aren’t you?”

Cam shook his head and tried to choke down his last bite of cinnamon roll. “No. No, I’m still working on the bathroom and kitchen.” Renting the apartment to Rachel would be a bad idea.

Ross narrowed his eyes. “I thought you said all you have left is caulking around the tub and putting up some molding in the kitchen.”

“Yeah…but…I’m sure Rachel wouldn’t be interested.” Not unless she saw it, and that wasn’t happening.

“I might be. What’s it like?”

Cam walked over to the sink and rinsed his hands. “Well…it’s old and has some odd-shaped rooms.” His house was great. But he wasn’t about to tell her that.

“Cam’s just being modest,” Ross added without missing a beat. “He’s done an amazing job. Refinished the hardwood floors and put in a totally new kitchen.”

Rachel’s eyes lit up. “Wow, I’m impressed.”

Ross nodded. “It has two bedrooms, a nice-sized living room and new, energy-saving windows. And just think, your landlord would be right downstairs if you need anything.”

Cam stifled a moan and sunk down on the stool behind his workbench. He was going to kill Ross.

Rachel’s eyes glowed. “It sounds wonderful.”

Great! How was he going to get out of this one? He shifted his gaze to Ross, wishing he could stuff the wad of napkins in his friend’s mouth.

Ross finally looked his way. Understanding dawned in his eyes, and his smile deflated.

“Is it far from here?” Rachel asked.

Ross quietly wiped his hands on a napkin.

Cam shifted on the stool. “About five minutes.”

“Oh, that would be perfect. I’d love to see it.” She hesitated, looking back and forth between them. “I mean, if you’re open to showing it to me.”

He clenched his jaw. What choice did he have? “Sure.”

“How about tomorrow?”

He shook his head. Maybe he could delay her, and she’d find something else. “I’m going down to Seattle for the day.” He hadn’t seen his sister, Shannon, and her family for a couple months. Maybe he’d pay them a visit.

“What about Sunday?”

He rubbed his chin, trying to think of another excuse, but none came to mind. “I suppose that would be okay. How about 9:00 a.m.?” Maybe she liked to sleep in on the weekend and would turn him down.

“I’ll be at church in the morning, but I could come around one.”

His face flamed. Of course he should have known she’d be in church. “One is fine,” he muttered.

“Great. I can’t wait to see it. Could you write down the address for me?”

He walked over to his desk and jotted it down, then handed her the paper.

“Thanks.” As she studied the address, Cam looked past her shoulder and glared at Ross. How many years would he get for murdering his best friend?

Rachel followed the sidewalk around the side of the large Craftsman-style house, admiring the soft-gray and frosty-cranberry paint job. Very nice.

The house boasted a large central gable, low-pitched roof and a huge front porch upheld by two square pillars. It was charming in a sturdy, masculine kind of way. If the interior was half as nice as what she saw outside, she’d take it—if Cam would rent to her and if she could afford it. Those were some very big ifs.

When Ross mentioned the apartment to her on Friday, Cam had about gagged on his cinnamon roll. He’d tried to hide his reaction, but she’d seen right through him.

Why did he dislike her so much? Was it just that she was bringing kids into the Arts Center? Did he see that as some kind of threat? Or was there something else about her that bothered him?

Well, it didn’t matter how he felt about her and her kids. She needed this apartment. And after pouring over the classifieds for the last few days and talking to a real estate agent, she discovered there weren’t too many other options in this area, especially in her price range.

With a silent prayer on her lips, she climbed the stairs to the small side porch and knocked on the door. Her stomach did a jumpy little dance while she waited.

The door opened and Cam greeted her with a smile that looked forced. He wore a paint-spattered navy T-shirt and faded jeans with a hole in one knee. A few white paint speckles dotted his glasses.

“Come in.” He motioned toward the stairs, his stiff posture shouting his discomfort. “This is a private entrance to the apartment.”

“That’s convenient.” She mounted the stairs, and the top landing came into view. A pendant-shaped light fixture made
of stained glass spread a warm glow over the gleaming hardwood floor, creamy walls and beamed ceiling. “Wow, this is lovely.”

He frowned slightly and rubbed his hands on his jeans. “Well, like I said, I’m not totally finished.”

“What you’ve done so far looks great. Can I see the rest?”

He nodded and led her into the kitchen. “I gutted this room.” He motioned toward the new oak cabinets and stainless-steel appliances.

“It’s beautiful.” Rachel’s heart lifted as she walked over to a large bay window and looked outside. She imagined herself sitting at her breakfast table, enjoying the view of the beautiful backyard with its brick patio and neat vegetable garden. She turned back to Cam. “Did you do all of this work yourself?”

“Most of it. But I used professionals for the electric and plumbing.”

She nodded and ran her hand over the granite counter, noticing how it coordinated with the tile backsplash and floor. “I’ve never seen tile like this.”

“It’s from Italy.”

She cocked her head. “You know, most people wouldn’t invest so much in a place they were going to rent to someone else.”

He shrugged. “Quality materials will last. And I intend to find a renter who will take care of the apartment as if it was their own.” He sent her a serious look, then continued the tour through the rest of the apartment. She asked him several questions and praised his craftsmanship and attention to detail in each room. He seemed to relax and soften a bit as he showed her around.

When they returned to the landing, she stopped and looked up. “I love that light fixture. It adds a nice touch. It would
look great with an oriental rug in those same colors.” She imagined her small chest with the potted fern against one wall and her tall bookshelf against the other.

She pulled in a deep breath, wishing she didn’t have to ask the next question. “So…how much is the rent?”

He folded his arms across his broad chest and named the price.

She swallowed and released a soft sigh. “I guess I should’ve asked that before I came.”

He frowned and rubbed his chin. “You think it’s too much?”

“No, it’s definitely worth it. It’s just too much for me.”

He slipped his hands in his pockets and lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Are you sure?”

Surprise rippled through her. He almost sounded like he wanted to rent the apartment to her. She nodded slowly, wishing she could give him another answer. “By the time I paid rent and utilities, I’d be eating oatmeal three times a day and have to walk to work.”

“Oh…the utilities are included in the rent.”

“Really?” Her hopes rebounded.

“Yes. I’ll cover the electric, gas and water, and I have wireless Internet that works all over the house.”

“That would be great.” She bit her lip and did some quick calculations. “I’m sure I could handle the payments then.”

A nervous smile broke over his face. “So…you want to rent it?”

“Yes. Definitely. It’s much nicer than anything else I’ve seen.”

He nodded, growing serious again. “Okay, maybe you could give me a couple references and contact info for your last landlord.”

“Sure. I brought that information with me.”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I guess we could go downstairs and take care of that now.”

“Okay.” She followed him down the steps, slowing to admire a tall window with a section of stained glass at the top. Sunlight streamed through the red, blue and amber design, creating a pattern on the opposite wall. “That’s lovely.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the window. “It’s original to the house. Not airtight like the new windows, but I couldn’t tear it out.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” Their gazes connected and held, and awareness tingled through her. She looked away, breaking the connection. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. She’d have to be very careful to guard her heart and not fall for her handsome landlord.

Cam hustled up his porch steps and pushed open the front door for Rachel. His golden retriever ran forward to greet them with a sharp bark and a series of vigorous wiggles and tail wagging that about knocked Rachel over. She stepped behind Cam.

“Whoa! Down, girl.” He grabbed the dog’s collar. “Sorry. She won’t hurt you. She’s just trying to make friends.”

The hint of panic in Rachel’s eyes faded, and she sent him a tentative smile. “What’s her name?”

“Sasha.” He looked the dog in the eye. “Settle down and be nice.” He glanced up at Rachel. “Hold out your hand, and let her sniff it.”

Rachel bit her lip and slowly extended her hand, looking as though she believed Sasha might eat her for lunch.

He suppressed a smile. “I take it you’re not used to dogs?”

“Not really, but she seems nice.” Sasha licked Rachel’s palm, then nuzzled closer and gazed up at her with soulful eyes. “Oh, you’re a pretty girl, aren’t you?” Rachel’s voice
took on that soft quality people use when they talk to babies and small animals. She laughed, and gently ran her hand over the dog’s back.

Sasha’s tongue hung out the side of her mouth in a slobbery dog smile while her long tail beat time on the carpet.

“She likes you.” He grinned, watching them get acquainted. They made quite a nice picture—Rachel in her slim navy and white dress topped with a navy cardigan. It followed her feminine curves and skimmed the top of her knees, revealing tan shapely legs below.

What was not to like? He swallowed and quickly raised his gaze to her face.

“She’s so soft.” Rachel tipped her head and looked up at him with glowing eyes and a sweet smile.

The room suddenly felt too warm. He cleared his throat and stepped back. “Let me…a…grab that rental application.” He turned away and headed toward the desk in the dining room.

What was he doing? Before she arrived, he’d made up his mind to discourage her from renting the apartment. But that was before she praised his remodeling work in every room and knocked down all his defenses. By the time he finished showing her around, his resistance had vanished, and he’d adjusted the rent to include the utilities.

That was crazy! He had to stop being such a pushover. It was bad enough that he was going to see her every day at work. Now she was going to be his upstairs neighbor?

Maybe he’d find something negative in her references or credit check. But he doubted that. She had a good job. He couldn’t imagine her having credit issues. She practically glowed with integrity. If everything came back as he expected, he’d have to rent the apartment to her. Gritting his teeth, he fished through the drawer for a decent pen.

Maybe he was looking at this wrong. Renting to Rachel
would be better than having a couple upstairs, or worse yet, a family with young kids. He huffed out an irritated breath and walked back into the living room with the forms and pen in hand.