Coming Home to Seashell Harbor (Seashell Harbor #1) - Miranda Liasson Page 0,86

made her toes curl.

She shrugged and flashed him a smile. “One of many.”

Had she just blatantly flirted with him? One look at her friends showed they were both staring. Well, she couldn’t help the giddy way he made her feel.

Cam, nonplussed, grinned and gave her a long, appreciative look before turning to Ollie. Hadley could barely hear him talking to Ollie and her friends over the sudden swooshing of blood in her ears. She felt dizzy and breathless. Putting a hand to her chest to try to calm her heart did nothing to stop this whole-body meltdown. She was doomed.

“Is it time for ice cream now?” Ollie asked, trying to pull the knotted tablecloth from his neck.

She freed him from the makeshift cape. “Yes, my sweet. Time for ice cream.”

Then just like that, he scooted down from the chair. Kit picked him up and twirled him around. From across the patio, she mouthed, “Thank you.”

Darla turned to Hadley. “I’ll go start dishing out the ice cream. Can I make you a sundae?”

“After all that, I’d rather have wine,” she said. “I’ll be there in a sec. I just want to sweep up.”

When she returned with a broom and dustpan, she found Cam lingering outside. “You’re amazing,” he said quietly as he leaned against the outdoor table, watching her. She pretended to shrug off the compliment, but the heat that rose to her cheeks revealed that she was pleased.

“It turned out all right,” she said as she leaned the broom against the house and they headed inside to join the others. It didn’t seem like he’d been talking solely about her haircutting skills. His look was too intense. Too hungry.

“I’m glad you came over,” she said. “Can you…stay awhile?”

“Sure,” he said. “We can…talk.” He was staring at her in a way that made her forget to breathe.

“Hey, you two, ice cream’s melting!” Darla called.

“You heard her.” Hadley struggled for sense. “Ice cream’s melting.”

So were her insides. Her brain was having a meltdown too.

Ice cream was Hadley’s favorite food, but it could’ve well been a bowl of sand she was eating because her appetite was shot. After the sundaes, Kit went on a hunt to round up all of Ollie’s various little cars and dinosaurs, one of which mysteriously ended up in Jagger’s bed, and she discovered a few more sticking up in the dirt around the potted plants. Cam surprised Ollie by hoisting him up on his shoulders and walking him around the patio, prowling around and growling and pretending they were T. rexes.

“It’s getting late,” Kit said to Hadley. “See you tomorrow, okay?” Ollie was clawing leaves on a tree and he and Cam were making chomping noises. She lifted a poignant brow at Hadley that might’ve meant What a great guy but didn’t say anything. As Cam headed over, Ollie handed Kit a bloom from a bright pink Mandevilla vine that was climbing a trellis on the side of the patio. “Here, Mommy. Put it in your hair.”

Kit stuck it behind her ear and held out her arms for her son. “Time to go, bud. What do you say to Cam and Aunt Hadley?”

“Thank you for the haircut, Aunt Hadwey,” Ollie said, bending to give her a kiss. “Bye, Cam,” he added a little shyly, then kissed him on the cheek too.

“Anytime, buddy,” Cam said, looking a little taken aback. “Next time bring a ball, okay?”

He rubbed his eyes and held out his fist for Cam to bump.

“You just said the magic word,” Kit said. Then she turned to Darla. “I’ve got to go before somebody falls asleep in the car.”

“I’m coming,” Darla said, who had caught a ride with Kit. To Hadley, she said, “Thanks for a fun evening.” Then she dropped her voice and winked. “Hope your fun is just getting started.”

As they left, Hadley could hear Ollie saying, “I’m not going to fall asleep in the car,” as he rested his head drowsily on his mom’s shoulder.

Cam didn’t appear to be in a rush to go anywhere. “She’s so good with him,” Hadley said, desperate to fill a sudden void. Because now they were alone. “It’s hard though. She worries about him not having a male role model. So I’m sure your offer to play ball is much appreciated.”

“Well, I happen to love to play ball,” he said, grinning.

Hadley cleared her throat. “Well.” She grabbed the broom again and did another sweep. She must’ve swept the hair out from under that chair seventeen times. Her obsessive