Coming Home to Seashell Harbor (Seashell Harbor #1) - Miranda Liasson Page 0,64
she fought through the crowd, which had devolved into laughter. “Down, boy!” she said as they approached the booth. Jagger stood across from them, the pie table between them.
The dog, hearing his name, made eye contact and tilted his head to the side, as if considering whether or not to behave.
“There. He’s going to listen,” Hadley said.
But Jagger, apparently choosing to follow the advice of the little devil on his shoulder instead of the angel, promptly returned to sucking down the pie, plunging his entire face into it with gusto.
“I think he likes the coconut cream,” Cam said.
“And the strawberry,” Hadley said in dismay. “And the blackberry.”
Hadley somehow managed to pull the culprit away from the crime, but not until after he’d dug into at least three pies. There was whipped cream and pie filling everywhere—on the table, the grass, the dog. A crowd had gathered and everyone was laughing and pointing and taking snapshots of Jagger, who had whipped cream along his snout and blueberries in his fur.
“Anthony Cammareri.” A commanding older woman was shouldering her way through the crowd. “And Hadley Wells. Do you mean to tell me you two are still together?”
“Mrs. Doyle, great to see you again,” Cam said. “We’ll reimburse your booth for the damage right away.”
“We’re so sorry,” Hadley added, elbowing Cam in the ribs, which he took to mean stand up straighter and behave himself.
The elderly woman shook a finger at them. “It doesn’t surprise me that you two are still causing trouble.”
“Oh no,” Hadley said, “I—”
Cam gently touched her elbow in a move that said, Save your breath. He dropped his voice and whispered in her ear, “All she probably remembers are the notes we passed in her class.”
“And how we didn’t pay much attention,” she whispered back. “To this day I can’t tell you the difference between Melville and Hawthorne.”
“They’re both dead.” A wide smile overtook Cam’s face. “Don’t worry about it.” He plucked a blob of whipped cream out of Hadley’s hair. “All I paid attention to in that class was you.”
Cam was pleased to see her blush a little at that. “We really are sorry, Mrs. Doyle,” he said. “I’d love to make a donation to”—he looked around for some kind of sign that said where the pie profits were slated for—“any charity you choose.”
She folded her arms. “The proceeds go toward the Christmas festival. But that won’t make up for all this disruption.”
“I’ll double the donation,” Cam said. “Triple it.”
“In fact,” Hadley added, “Cam was just telling me he’d like to volunteer to help put up all the decorations next winter.”
“And of course, Hadley would like to help too,” Cam added. Then he realized she wasn’t going to be here by Christmastime. And even after all this—the arguing, the chunks of pie everywhere—he really wanted her to be.
The retired teacher’s expression finally softened. “Well, all right. In that case—”
More flying whipped cream made Cam quickly turn to Jagger, who had suddenly decided to shake out his fur. “Your dog is a mess,” Cam said, unable to stifle a grin. Jagger was kissing Hadley, getting whipped cream on her cheeks and her dress. Then he stood and shook himself again, whipped cream launching far enough to get all over Cam too.
Ben Gazera, the owner of the hardware store, walked over with a leash from the Pooch Palace booth for Hadley, who thanked him and clipped it on Jagger’s collar. Then she cast Cam a look that was actually— Wait, was she holding back a smile? “You got him too excited.”
“Sorry. I tend to have that effect on people.” He pointedly raised a brow.
“You mean dogs.” Hadley rolled her eyes. Then she laughed. Her snorty, ridiculous, wonderful laugh.
The joy of hearing that made him throw back his own head and laugh.
He’d just caught her eye when something flashed—a camera light.
“Hey, are you two a couple?” someone asked over the whirring of more cameras.
“Hey, Cam, how do you two know each other?” another voice shouted. “Were you high school sweethearts?”
Cam squinted and shielded his eyes. They’d somehow become surrounded by a sea of paparazzi.
Suddenly a video camera appeared, inches from Hadley’s face. “Hey, Hadley. Who’s sexier, Cam or Cooper?”
“Me, of course,” Cam interjected. He tried to guide Hadley away but they were pretty much enveloped, the cameras zooming in.
“C’mon, you two, give us a big smile.”
Cam managed to take a firm hold of Hadley’s elbow. “Okay, ladies and gents, you got