“Ooh,” a new voice interrupted. “You might have some competition, Cameron!”
Cameron turned his attention to the woman behind me in the line. “Hey, Mrs. Jameson.”
“Cameron Walker here is the Sugar Hollow Gingerbread House Competition champion,” Mrs. Jameson said. “Unbeaten for four years running. But you wouldn’t know that, being new to town. Youarenew to town, right?” She looked at me expectantly.
“Yeah,” I said, extending a hand. “I’m Finn. Finn Kelly. I moved here a couple of weeks ago, and so far I love it.” I flashed her my most charming smile.
“Well, aren’t you lovely?” she said, taking my hand in hers. “Arlene Jameson.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I said.
She turned her attention back to Cameron. “It will be interesting to see if Finn here gives you a run for your money, hon.”
“Unlikely,” Cameron muttered under his breath. Okay, he was obviously still pissed at me. Still, it was pretty fucking rude of him to dismiss me out of hand like that. For a second I was tempted to rattle off my credentials, but then I thought better of it. For one thing, I planned on staying here in Sugar Hollow, and I wanted people to like me. I wouldn’t make any friends by sounding off about how good I was in the middle of the grocery store.
But also? If Cameron saw me as a competitor, that was it. All bets were off. But if he thought I was just some guy who dabbled in gingerbread and wasn’t a threat to his crown, there was a better chance of him forgiving me and me getting to know him better. And Ididwant to know him better. Watching him now,with the way his shoulders were hunched up around his ears, I got the feeling he was more awkward than abrasive.
So I shrugged and said, “It’s just for fun. I’ve got a pretty good recipe, so I figured I might as well join in. Besides, it’s raising money for the animal shelter, right?”
Cameron’s brow unfurrowed a little at that, and his death glare cooled a little—from laser intensity to only third-degree-burn-worthy. I took it as a win.
The cashier called out a bored, “Next!” and we all shuffled forward. I took the chance to peek into Cameron’s basket, hoping for something I could use to keep the conversation going. There was a stack of frozen dinners and several cans of cat food. The dinners made me think he was single, but it seemed rude to point that out, so instead I gestured to the cat food.
“What’s your cat’s name?”
“Asshole,” Cameron muttered, turning his glare to the floor.
Thefuck?
I jerked back like I’d been struck. I got it if he didn’t want to talk to me, but I’d thought we were moving past the fact I’d knocked him down and deprived him of fondant. Obviously not. “Sorry for asking your cat’s name,” I said stiffly. And then, because his response had stung more than expected, I added, “I thought people in small towns were meant to be friendly, but I guess you’re the exception, huh?”
His gaze swung to mine and his brow furrowed for a moment before a horrified look flitted across his features and his cheeks turned pink. “What? No, I—Asshole. That’s her name. My cat.”
I choked on a laugh, because again, what thefuck?
He let out a sigh that could have powered a dozen wind turbines. “I inherited her when I bought the house and her owner went into care. That was her name when I got her, and she refuses to answer to anything else. So now I’m stuck withAsshole.” He let out another sigh, one that said he knew it was ridiculous.
I waited a beat, then said, “Wait. You have a cat who answers to her name?”
He looked up from the floor, and the corners of his mouth twitched. “No, but she ignores it in a way that lets me know she’s heard me.”
“Still, getting a cat to acknowledge you exist is impressive.” I gave him a teasing smile, and after a moment’s hesitation he returned it.
“Next!”
The line shuffled forward again, and Cameron put his basket on the counter and started unloading, so we didn't get to talk further. But he gave me an awkward wave as he left the store, and at least he was talking to me now, so I’d definitely made progress. The patented Finn Kelly charm offensive was working its magic.
I had an uncomfortable twinge when I wondered how he’d react to finding out that I was a professional baker, but I shoved my concerns aside. I mean, this was a fundraiser for an animal shelter in a small town. First prize was a hundred-dollar grocery card.
It wasn’t like anyone was taking it seriously, right?
Chapter 3
CAMERON
“Good morning, Cameron,” Sherri at reception said, looking pointedly at the clock as I entered the building that housed the library and town council offices.
“Hey, Sherri,” I said, pretending I didn’t notice her checking the time, even though I knew full well I was skating in under the wire. I’d gotten caught up over breakfast watching reels of new trends in gingerbread house design and barely made it out the door in time. Then there had been a flurry of snow overnight, so the roads had been slippery. But technically I still had four minutes to unlock the library doors, and it wasn’t like there was going to be a run on the place at 9:00 a.m. on a Tuesday.
