Coming Home to Seashell Harbor (Seashell Harbor #1) - Miranda Liasson Page 0,9
His all-too-familiar-voice reverberated deep and low. Hearing him say her name after all these years, businesslike, without emotion, was strange, even as his gaze swept her up and down in a thorough, assessing fashion.
She sucked in a breath. Because as their eyes met again, his were filled with heat.
She did a double take—but he’d started scrawling on yet another sticky note.
“Hi, Cam.” She managed to keep her voice steady.
He used to be just Tony to her. She’d never really joined the Cam craze.
“Hey, ladies,” he said, nodding at Ivy and Mayellen. “Thanks for letting us walk around. I think we’re about done.” They smiled back, clearly under his spell. Apparently, he was capable of mesmerizing pets and women alike.
But not her. Not anymore.
“No problem, Cam,” Ivy said.
Cam looked over Mayellen’s shoulder at the spread-out papers, and, to Hadley’s horror, started thumbing through them. Hadley’s first impulse was to swoop in and gather them all up. Why give him ammo to fuel the fire?
As Cam’s eyes roamed over the trashy tidbits, Hadley herself was momentarily thrown by his smile, flashy and white, but still tinged with boyish crookedness, just enough to make him irresistibly human. His Atlantic-blue gaze flicked from her to the papers and back again. She’d loved Seashell Harbor’s beautiful aquamarine ocean and she’d loved staring into those eyes, both so similar.
“You look pretty good for being in rehab all these months,” he deadpanned. Despite herself, she felt her face grow warm.
Of course, the first thing he would do was crack a joke. Poke fun at her expense.
How tacky.
She recalled that he’d often pulled out that humor when he was nervous, but his cool, level gaze and relaxed posture said otherwise.
He perused the tabloid. “It says right here you were weaving your way through a New York club and had to be escorted out.”
“No, it was just— Wait a minute.” She pulled back and pulled herself together. She didn’t owe him any explanations. “Why are you trying to buy my grandmother’s building?”
The alleged architect was off measuring the windowsills, unaware of any drama playing out.
Her nemesis was already working that Cammareri magic, derailing her anger with his humor and that sinful grin. Igniting her hormones and pulling her off course. But this time, she wouldn’t fall for it. No siree. She geared up to give him a piece of her mind. More than that. She’d stop him from taking advantage of an older person for his own gain, from tricking her parents and Gran’s employees into thinking he was a nice person.
“You don’t know?” Cam asked, surprised.
Mayellen’s gaze darted nervously between Ivy and Cam.
Ivy stared down at the floor, giving Bowie a little nudge with her foot.
“I heard something about your wanting to open a sports bar,” Hadley said. “But I don’t understand why you’re trying to swindle my grandmother when she’s at her weakest.”
Cam snorted. Snorted. “Your grandmother wants to sell this building.” Cam crossed his arms and looked down at her from his considerable height, which she swore was a move designed to intimidate. “She offered it to me.”
Chapter 4
Come again?” The woman in front of Cam stared at him like he’d just crawled out of the gutter covered with goo.
“Your hearing’s worse than Bowie’s,” he mumbled. To which Bowie looked up at him adoringly. “Sorry, buddy.” He bent, a little gingerly because of his bum knee, and scratched the animal behind the ears, which gave him a minute to think. To get a grip. He hadn’t seen Hadley Wells in years. And she was…stunning.
Fresh faced and athletic, her light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, she looked sort of like the Hadley he’d known so well at eighteen and yet not at all. The same smooth skin but no trace of the familiar freckles. No nose carelessly peeling from sunburn. No T-shirt and shorts and flip-flops, but rather, she wore a black blouse and ankle pants—a sign of her success. As were the expensive sunglasses perched on her head.
And she’d lost that starry-eyed look—the way she used to gaze at him, like he was…well, the most captivating person in the world. Like she was head over heels. No one had ever looked at him quite that way since. Not any of the women who routinely treated him with something akin to adulation.
Hadley had loved him. If you could say that what they’d felt for each other at that age was love.
He wasn’t sure, but it was the closest he’d ever come.