beat.
As they approached the space between the two bungalows, she heard laughter. A crowd of people with drinks in their hands had gathered on his patio. He surprised her by walking her all the way to her door. “Look,” he said. “I…Do you mind keeping Bowie tonight? He really hates the noise and the crowd.”
“Of course I will,” she said, unable to keep the emotion out of her voice. He was giving her Bowie? Just when she tried hating him, he did something that made it impossible.
As if Bowie understood, he brushed by her legs and trotted into the house, Jagger right behind. But Bowie circled back and sat down on Hadley’s foot, an old habit of his. Her Bowie was back. And right now that gave her a great deal of satisfaction.
Dogs were easier to read than men, that was for sure.
Hadley flicked on all the lights within reach. As if illumination would somehow bring her some desperately needed sense.
Cam hadn’t changed since high school. He was still the life of the party, the extrovert, the guy who attracted anyone within fifty feet like a magnet. A force at getting what he wanted.
“Well, thanks for the talk.” She started to close the door.
“No problem. I— Look, about that.” He nodded toward the voices on his porch. “Those people. My agent—”
“Don’t, Cam.” She put up a hand. “It’s okay. We are who we are.” She tried not to look at him, because she knew she’d read a good deal of remorse in his face. But that wasn’t enough. Feeling bad about something didn’t count when you were still doing it.
“Thanks for Bowie,” she said quickly, and then closed the door.
Chapter 9
Cam walked into the Cammareri Vintage Home Remodeling office on Monday morning to find his sister in a panic. Lucy sat at her computer, trying to talk on the phone while Bernie wailed loudly in a sling around her mom’s neck. In the middle of the floor lay a large, brindle lump. On closer inspection, Cam saw that it was a bulldog, grunting and wheezing, its tongue lolling to the side.
Molly the Border collie ran over to Cam and nudged his hand, as if to say, Have you seen this intruder? Have you? Get him away from my people!
“Can I help?” Cam mouthed, reaching out for the baby. Lucy nodded gratefully, still on the phone, and passed over Baby Bernie, who now resembled an angry little plum.
One sniff and Cam regretted the handoff.
“She’s poopy.” He tried to hand her back.
“No takebacks,” Lucy whispered, her hand over the receiver. Sending him a smile that might’ve meant Good luck, buddy, she mouthed her thanks and then went back to her phone call, silently chuckling.
“Okay, Bernadette,” he said to the wailing baby, “I may not be able to catch or block anymore but I’m pretty sure I can figure this out.” He walked to the back room, where a changing table was set up, and fumbled through the diaper change. He was more than a little proud of his accomplishment when he brought Bernie back. He cradled the snug little bundle like a football as she displayed her usual sunshine smile, smelling like baby wipes.
“You love your uncle Tony, don’t you?” Cam said to the baby. “I haven’t lost my ability to charm, have I, sweetheart?” Too bad Hadley didn’t think so. The thought popped unwillingly into his head.
Last night, he’d felt a connection between them, strong and powerful, that Ian had quickly ruined with his talk about the restaurant. Which highlighted the impossible conundrum between them.
“Okay, Uncle Tony.” Finally off the phone, his sister rolled her eyes. “I’m glad you two are in love with each other. Because I have a couple of problems here.”
Cam nodded toward the lump on the floor with the lolling tongue. The dog stared at Cam and snorted. “Is he one of them?”
“My sitter called off and…ask him.” He followed her chin dip over to Nick, who had just walked in, happily humming.
“Nick!” Lucy said. “This dog cannot stay here. Not today.”
Cam put a hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “Okay, what’s going on here?”
“We finally finished that awful job over on the east harbor,” Nick said. “A divorced couple who insisted on renovating a cottage together but fought about everything.” Nick nodded at the dog. “He got caught in the crossfire.”
“I don’t get it,” Cam said. But he did. Nick had always been a softie, often following his heart and not his head. It was what had led