The Bad Boy's Baby (Hope Springs) (16 page)

She’d promised Grandma that she’d take the big leap, too, and escape to the big city like she’d always talked about.

But lately she hadn’t felt the need for an escape like she used to. She’d started to finally feel like she belonged in Hope Springs.

And a big part of that was a certain guy who’d spent the weekend in the mountains with her, making her think that a fairy-tale romance might still be in the realm of possibilities for her.

…

Cam watched Emma walk out of the cabin she’d just been in with Pete. He wanted to follow her and demand to know what they’d been doing in there. Before they’d disappeared inside, he’d seen the brief touches and shared laughter, and he’d wanted to go throw Emma over his shoulder in some caveman-like display and grunt, “Mine.”

The longer they were in there, the stronger that urge grew, and he’d been seconds from storming over, barging in, and asking what the hell was going on.

Honestly, he didn’t think he’d be able to keep himself from picking up the little dude by his collar as he yelled at him to stay away from Emma.

So he’d held his ground on the porch the next cabin over, continuing to work with the rest of the guys as he told himself it was nothing. That they worked together.

But that gesture at the end when they’d come out together and Pete had squeezed her shoulder…

Another toxic surge of jealousy flooded his veins. Cam already knew the guy had asked Emma out, too, so there was clearly interest on his part.

Through the rising anger and suspicion, he reminded himself that when he’d brought up how the guy had asked her out, Emma had told him it’d never even been a competition. Reminded himself that they had a daughter and things were good between them, especially after their trip.

If he charged over and showed how ugly his temper could be, he’d ruin everything.

Of course his phone call with Torres chose that moment to resurface, which didn’t help matters.

Just like that, his patience wore out, and he wanted information. Assurances.

Right as he was about to charge after Emma and demand both, he saw that she was on her way toward him, her toolbox now in her hand.

Cam gripped his hammer tighter, telling himself to start easy. To avoid yelling.

“Hey, boys,” Emma said as she approached, giving him a small smile before turning to the rest of the guys. “Where are we at?”

Tom stepped forward and listed the finishing touches that needed to be done and told Emma that they might just be able to wrap everything up by tomorrow night, even with the mowing and trimming.

Which sent a sense of urgency through Cam he didn’t exactly understand. Not having her working on the property daily would suck, but it wasn’t like she was going anywhere.

She tipped her head toward the cabin she and Pete had been in together for more than ten minutes. “The bottom stair on cabin three is loose. I’m going to take care of it, but I want every porch checked. Add that to the list of final touches, please.”

Tom took his pen from behind his ear and wrote it down.

“I’ll come with you,” Cam said as she started down the steps, bouncing on each one before moving to the next.

They walked over to the cabin, and he held it in as long as he could, but then it burst out of him. “Something going on with you and Pete?”

Emma looked at him, her eyebrows drawing together. “Just work stuff.”

“It looked more friendly than that.”

“We’re friends. Why are you being so weird?”

“I don’t like him.”
And if he puts his hands on you again, I’m going to have to break them.

“He’s been really great to me.”

“Yeah, because he wants to get in your pants.”

Offense pinched her features. “Or maybe it’s because he thinks I’m a valuable asset. I’ve worked my butt off on this job, and it wasn’t easy. You’ve only seen the end product and the finishing touches. Do you know how hard I had to work to get the guys to listen to me in the beginning? I’ve always wanted to be part of a project like this, and there were times I was sure I was going to screw it up, and it’s nice that at least
someone
believes in me.”

“Who says I don’t believe in you? And why are you changing the subject?”

Emma scowled at him. “You’re being so weird today. You didn’t even come to say hi first thing this morning—in fact, you haven’t talked to me
all damn day
—and now you’re getting mad because I talked to my coworker.” She knelt down in front of the bottom step. “Just go back to the other cabin. I don’t need your help.”

He tried to suppress his growl, but it came out anyway.

Emma stuck a nail in place and started hammering away.

“Emma.”

She kept on hammering like he’d never said anything. No denying she was pissed—there was the ignoring, missing the nail as often as she hit it but continuing to pound it in as if it had personally offended her, and she didn’t usually swear, either.

“I believe in you, okay?” He crouched down next to her, ignored the risk of smashing or impalement and caught her swinging arm, and then used his free hand to brush her hair off her face. “Even if you are putting that nail in crooked.”

She gasped, and he couldn’t help it—he laughed. Since that didn’t seem to be winning her over, he lifted his hands in the air, showing that he gave. “I’m sorry, okay? You’re right. I’ve been a grouchy ass all day.”

He thought she was going to hold onto her anger, but then she shrugged a shoulder, and her expression softened.

He slowly took the hammer out of her hands then kissed her cheek, leaving his lips on her soft skin as he spoke. “Hey, baby. How are you today?”

One corner of her mouth lifted. “See? Was that so hard?”

He cupped her chin and gently twisted her face toward his. Then he kissed her—really kissed her, lips and tongue and given and taken breaths, not caring that they were in the middle of the workday. And okay, maybe a little bit hoping Pete would see, as well as the rest of the guys. Let them know she was his.

When he pulled back, though, a hint of worry remained in her features. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, but I…” She licked her lips, and he got a little lost in the movement and the desire to kiss her again—this was what he needed to remember. Emma calmed him. He could trust her. He…well, something more than liked her. “I need to talk to—”

“Cam?” Heath strode over. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s Dad. He was at the shop, working on a car, and he dropped the differential from it on his foot. Sheena’s there, but she can’t convince him to go to the doctor—even though he’s bleeding and it nearly chopped off his big toe—so she called me. I could use some backup, in case we have to carry his stubborn ass into the emergency room.”

Emma stood along with him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Do you need me to go with you? I can…well, I’m not sure how effective I’d be at talking sense into him, but I can try. Or provide moral support. Whatever you need.”

Who knew what Dad would say or how ugly this would get? “It’s okay,” Cam said, covering her hand with his. “You stay and keep things going here. Talk later?”

She nodded. “Okay. If you need anything, just call.”

He gave her a quick peck on the lips, then he rushed off with his brother, thinking this entire situation felt a little too much like high school and the incident that started everything bad. Well, it made the bad way, way worse—from constant drinking to Mom walking out on them all when she couldn’t handle it.

Fingers crossed alcohol wasn’t the cause of it in the first place, or he might just lose his cool for the second time today.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Emma thought she felt her phone vibrate against her hip, so she switched the plate of cookies to her left hand and pulled her cell out of her pocket, frowning when she didn’t have a message.

“Waiting for a call from a certain someone?” Grandma Bev asked, her hands full with a platter of brownies.

“No.” Emma shoved her phone in her pocket, walked up the last few stairs to the church, and pulled open the door. Instead of walking through, Grandma paused in the doorway and gave her a skeptical eyebrow raise, complete with pursed lips.

“Come on, Zoey,” Emma called, trying to keep her daughter’s attention on climbing the last few steps before a butterfly or bird flew by and distracted her. Then they’d have to play twenty questions, all of them
why?

Not only was Zoey not rushing, Grandma Bev was clearly still waiting for a different answer than the one Emma had given. “Okay, kind of. Cam’s dad had a minor accident this afternoon, and I’m waiting for an update on how he’s doing.”

Cam wasn’t very informative when it came to texts. They were bare minimum, only pertinent information, with the first saying, “He’s fine,” which she thought meant out of the hospital, but when she pressed he’d added, “They say he needs a cast.” That was an hour or so ago.

“I noticed you still haven’t brought that boy to meet me yet,” Grandma said, crossing the threshold of the church and then leaning against the door to help keep it open.

“I’ve been meaning to, I swear, but we’ve been busy.”

“And you don’t want me to scare him off.”

Both confirming and denying involved land mines, so Emma turned and urged her daughter to hurry, for both their sakes.

Finally Zoey managed the last step and strolled through the open doorway, into the bright hallway. The quilting ladies usually met during the day, but they always made quilts for newlyweds and displayed them at the reception, and with Sadie’s and Quinn’s weddings coming up, they were making two. Which meant the occasional evening session, and those were the only ones Emma could attend. Even then, it was usually by coercion on Grandma Bev’s part. But she figured she could put in an hour or so before Zoey would get too crabby. Unless Cam texted or called to tell her he needed her. Either way, it’d be a good way to keep her mind busy, and right now, she desperately needed that.

“Emma! Long time, no see,” Doris, who was Sadie’s grandma, said. Then she smiled at Zoey and asked how she was.

“Uncle Heath has puppy. I stay with it.”

“Do you like puppies, then?” Doris asked, and Zoey nodded emphatically.

Grandma Bev glanced at Emma, questions swimming through her eyes.

“Cam and I went camping over the weekend, and Zoey stayed with Heath and Quinn.” Emma set down her plate of cookies on the nearby table and took the platter of brownies from Grandma so she could do the same with them. “Zoey’s obsessed with their puppy.”

“Sounds like it’s getting serious.”

“Yeah, Zoey and Trigger have shared Goldfish
and
an ice cream cone, so they’ll probably make it official any day now.”

A few of the other ladies laughed, but Grandma Bev just let loose a long-suffering sigh. Emma took the coloring book and crayons out of her bag and set them in front of Zoey. Before Grandma could get a chance to grill her further, Emma sat down and picked up a needle and thread, concentrating on the double wedding ring pattern in front of her and searching for the spot where she needed to start.

Grandma sat next to her and picked up her own needle and thread. “What about architecture firms?” Of course she wasn’t going to let it go. “You’re not thinking of giving up on working for one, are you?”

Emma thought about the contract for the job offer she’d received, now buried in the depths of her bag. Earlier she’d held back the news about the job with Cam—just for a second, because he’d made her mad, ignoring her all day and then accusing her of having something more with Pete. But right as she was about to tell him, they’d been interrupted.

Now she’d had too much time to think about the job offer without anyone to bounce it off. The reality of the situation had sunk in, and she desperately needed to talk about everything, but Grandma Bev was far too biased, and she’d just tell her that she’d be a fool not to take the job.

Having this conversation in front of all the quilting ladies would be a disaster, too, each of them throwing their opinions into the mix and adding to the mess of thoughts already swirling through her head. Not to mention Patsy Higgins would be here any second, and then there’d be no chance of any of it being kept private.

So she was keeping her lips zipped until she had the chance to talk to Cam—she wanted him to hear it from her, not through the town grapevine. She shot Grandma the sternest look she could summon and said, “Later.”

“Okay, but I can’t help remembering two other people who gave up their dreams for small-town life and how it didn’t turn out so well in the long run. I’d hate for you to make the same mistake and stay, only for you two to end up resenting each other like your parents did.”

The words stung, and as they sank in, they also dug at the part of her that worried about ending up like that. Would she resent Cam if she stayed? Would he later resent her for pushing him to make such a big decision so quickly, when he was still processing having a daughter as well as all he had on his plate with Mountain Ridge?

Man, where am I even going to start when I do finally get the chance to talk to him?

Their relationship had shifted during their camping adventure, but they still hadn’t had a serious talk about where exactly they stood and what they both wanted in the long run. She didn’t want him to feel like she was giving him an ultimatum and that he’d have no choice but to be with her or to be without Zoey.

She thought back to growing up in a house where the word “mistake” was thrown around often, and how both of her parents talked about feeling trapped. The last thing she wanted was for Cam to feel trapped, but at the same time, she couldn’t give up the amazing opportunity to work at an architecture firm, the way she’d always dreamed of doing, if he wasn’t willing to give her more of a commitment.

If Cam committed, she knew he’d stick by it, but she didn’t want to be just a commitment. She wanted him to
want
to be with her.

Since she couldn’t do anything about that now, she focused on making tiny stiches and tried to enjoy the light conversation. Every once in a while, Grandma would glance at her, and it was clear she still wanted all the answers, but Emma needed some before she could give any to her.

When Zoey tired of her coloring book and tried to climb on Emma’s lap, making it harder to sew, one of Vera Mae’s granddaughters came over, asked Zoey if she wanted to play with them, and then took her hand and led her over to where she and her sister were playing with dolls. Zoey was in heaven playing with the seven- and nine-year-old girls.

Right as Emma was about to excuse herself and Zoey, Amy Case came in, wearing the colorful scrubs she wore for her job at the hospital. “Sorry I’m late, ladies. Work was crazy today.” She grabbed a cookie and an empty chair and sat next to the quilt. “Rod Brantley nearly chopped off his toe. That’s the most excitement we’ve seen in a while.”

“Is he still at the hospital?” Emma asked.

“He left a bit ago. I had to stay and finish up my charts that I didn’t get to while I was helping out the doctor.”

“He’s okay, then?”

“Yeah, a few of the bones in the top of his foot are broken. They put him in a cast and discharged him. He’ll need a month or so to recover, but then he’ll be okay.”

“We better get a sign-up going,” Doris said. “His family will need meals.”

“On it,” Patsy Higgins said, pulling a fat, worn notebook from her purse. “Sheena’s been staying with him most nights, too, along with Oliver. So meals for three people.”

Emma’s heart swelled as they all sprang into motion, making plans to help Rod Brantley, regardless of the fact that he’d never had the best reputation and ignored most of the town’s events.

Maybe people here gossiped and loved to interfere and force people to participate in picnic basket auctions, town meetings, and quilting night, but there was caring and love behind most of their gestures.

Suddenly the thought of walking down crowded sidewalks where people simply passed each other by seemed sad. Of people breaking limbs or having babies and not immediately receiving casseroles and flowers. She glanced at Zoey and thought about how she didn’t think twice about letting her play with other kids or wander around the park, because she knew the people here, and it was a safe place to live.

If she moved away, she’d also miss Grandma Bev like crazy, even if they did occasionally drive each other mad.

An overwhelming wave of sorrow and gratefulness hit her, and she worried if she didn’t leave, she’d burst into tears. Then she’d have a lot of explaining to do, and no one in this room would take no for an answer.

Emma quickly tied off her thread and scooted her chair back. “Thank you, ladies, for tonight, but I think that I better get Zoey home before she reaches the hungry-and-tired meltdown phase. I’ll see you all later.”

Grandma reached out and caught her hand. “You and I need to have a serious conversation sometime.”

“I know.” Emma leaned down, hugged her grandma, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Then she gathered Zoey’s stuff and headed home.

A box of mac and cheese for Zoey later, Emma paced the kitchen, her mind spinning. She’d read through the contract twice now, and while common sense—and math—said she should take the job, something still held her back.

Namely, someone.

Because she could weigh all the pros and cons she’d thought of since the job offer—including all the lovely things she’d realized she’d miss about Hope Springs during quilting night—and none of them took as much space as Cam.

Earlier I told myself I’d need more commitment from him to even consider turning down the job, but I think I’d even take a slim chance of us working out, which just shows how far gone I am for the guy.

Zoey came running in and demanded her sippy cup be refilled, and Emma looked at her little girl, wondering which would truly be the best decision for her. Financial stability was definitely a bonus, but they’d made it okay here.

If she pretended her bills would stop stacking up, raising a kid would somehow get cheaper, and that she would have another big job around the corner to keep her income steady, she was sure they could keep making it. The odds of more big jobs weren’t great, but maybe the little ones would be enough to keep them afloat.

On autopilot, she poured milk into the pink-and-purple sippy cup.

There was no question Zoey needed her daddy, and Emma was starting to feel like she did, too.

For a second, she entertained the thought of managing a way to keep hold of both the job
and
Cam.
Would a two-hour drive back and forth make or break us?

Probably. It would definitely suck.

Then again, opportunities that paid so well didn’t come along every day. Maybe she could just sign on for the Park City job and see how she liked working for Precision Commercial Design and how hard it was to balance the project while maintaining a long-distance relationship. It was only a year.

Which didn’t sound long when she put it like that. But when she thought about breaking it out into months and weeks and two-hour trips—that were really four including the drive back—it seemed like a freaking eternity.

Emma secured the lid on Zoey’s cup and handed it back to her daughter, who muttered a polite “tanks” before running into the other room.

Emma glanced at the contract again. Then she looked at her open laptop, the website for the fancy town houses she and Zoey could call home still displayed. She lifted her phone and looked at the screen, hoping Cam would have answered her last text asking for an update.

But there weren’t any new texts or missed phone calls.

She thought about how she’d offered to go with Cam earlier and how he’d told her no. How he hadn’t answered her last two texts. She wanted to help him however she could, but she worried those were signs he wasn’t thinking about her as a permanent fixture in his life, not the same way she was thinking about him.

Which made her question everything all over again.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said to the stack of dirty dishes. They, of course, were completely unhelpful. She eyed the clock. She wanted to discuss everything with Cam, but there were a few points in the contract with confusing wording, and Pete would be having dinner in twenty minutes.

I owe it to myself to at least make sure I’ve got all the details before I talk to Cam, much less make a decision.

With that thought in mind, she picked up the phone and called Madison. She hated to leave Zoey with a babysitter again, since she’d just left her over the weekend, but she’d only be gone an hour or two at most. Plus, having more information when she talked to Cam would be better than having to say, “I don’t know,” to every question he’d ask.

She also knew that once they talked, she was going to have to lay it all out, including exactly how she felt about him, because what he said in return would obviously factor into her decision. Maybe it was faster than she’d planned, but life had a way of throwing wrenches into plans—she knew that better than anyone.

As she made arrangements with the babysitter, she eyed the papers again. There was a certain sense of irony in the fact that the type of job she’d always wanted had suddenly become the one thing that might get in the way of the family she’d dreamed of having.