The crowd of reporters chuckled because Cam was…being Cam.
“Or, I should say…we are. Meet our dog, Jagger.” He took Hadley’s hand and smiled. She was frowning a little, but also looked a little confused. Later she’d probably have his hide for using words like us and our dog. But for now, he was desperate to distract the wolves from preying on her. “That’s way more interesting, in my opinion,” he continued. To help him out, Jagger sat down at his feet and began licking blueberry filling off his paws, which drew a few chuckles. He just hoped that Jagger’s licking would stay socially acceptable while he was in front of the cameras. “Plus, no one’s asked me how I like being home. Or the secret recipes for my new restaurant. Geez, you folks are really losing your touch.”
“How are you doing, Cam?” someone asked.
“Great, thanks.” He snuck a sideways glance at Hadley, who looked a little less thrown. If he could just keep the attention off her until they could reach the Palace, his job would be done. “There’ve been a lot of changes in my life since football ended.”
“Is Hadley one of them?”
He gave a little laugh for the benefit of the cameras. But the irony wasn’t lost on him. Hadley had crashed into his life like a giant ocean wave, throwing him sideways. But now she needed him. And he was going to do everything he could to help her.
So he kept steering them toward Pooch Palace.
“How about an exclusive interview?” someone said. He looked over to see a couple of reporters he recognized from a national network—probably the ones Ian had told him would be here. “We’ve been waiting months to sit down with you.”
“Call me later,” he said, forcing a smile. Oh no. Why had he said that? How could he not? It was the ultimate distraction from Hadley.
“Wait,” said a local reporter who’d pushed his way forward to stand next to the big guns. Cam had to admire his chutzpah. “If you’re going to do an interview, how about letting us do it, Cam?”
They’d finally reached the Palace, and Hadley had pulled out a key. He turned to the swarm of photographers around him. “Yes, I’ll do an interview,” he said, even as a chilly sense of dread crept into his veins. He hadn’t wanted to talk to the press yet. He didn’t want to leave any room for people to pity him. To call him poor Cam. Yet he’d just steered himself right into that hole.
“That’s it for today, folks.” He waved cheerily at the crowd. “This guy needs a bath. Don’t forget to grab some homemade elephant ears and enjoy the festival.”
Once they and the dog were inside, Cam locked the door and drew the shades. The faint and very familiar smell of new construction materials reminded him that Pooch Palace’s ceiling was now intact after the leaky roof that seemed so long ago. Leaning against the locked door, he took a second to process what had just happened.
“Are you okay?” Hadley asked.
He turned in surprise. “After all that, you’re asking me?”
He walked over and took hold of her arms. Which might have been a mistake because her skin was smooth and soft under his calloused hands. But he focused on the fact that she was shaking. “How could you be worried about me at a time like this?” Jagger, not worried in the least, walked over to his bed and plopped down, getting blueberry filling all over.
“You did everything to get their attention off of me,” Hadley said. “Including promise them an interview. You put yourself on the line for me.”
He would’ve promised the reporters a trip to the moon on the rocket ship of their choice if he’d had to. Anything for her.
That thought startled him. Because he knew in his heart it was a hundred percent true.
“Those reporters were here because of me. I had no idea they would use me to come after you.”
“No,” she said firmly. “They capitalized on the moment. The scoop about…the baby. It’s all right.” Was it all right? He tried to read her face for a sign.
“You…implied we were together.”
He rubbed his neck. “Yeah, about that. I…hope that was okay. I was trying to give them other info besides your reaction to…to—”
“To the baby. It’s okay to say it.” Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, but her gaze was level and clear, her wide brown eyes melting him on the inside.
“Let me get you some water,” he said, dropping his hands because they were starting to shake too.
“I’m not helpless,” she said. “Just a little thrown. I can get the water.”
He held her back gently. “Just sit down for a minute. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay, fine.” He was already halfway to the back when she called out, “Will you please bring Jagger some too?”
In the back room, Cam grabbed a few ice-cold drinks from an old fridge, including a bowl of water for the dog, who surely must be thirsty after consuming all that pie. He found himself pressing his forehead against the closed refrigerator door and taking a couple of deep breaths.
Anger flowed through him but he inhaled again, trying to get it together for her sake.
But one question kept ringing through his mind, nagging at him. Did she still love Cooper?
No, no, he told himself. Wrong question. That didn’t matter. Just stay calm and be a friend to her.
But it did matter. That skunk Cooper. How much more could he hurt her? He wanted to hang him up by the balls. And that was the censored version. But there was something he wanted even more.
To know what she was thinking. He wanted her to say something. Something like, I don’t care what Cooper does. I don’t love him anymore.
That’s what he wanted. For Cooper not to matter.
There was no denying it.
Then it suddenly dawned on him that what he was feeling wasn’t anger at all. It was identical to what he’d felt when the new vet—Fuller-What’s-His-Name—had gone over to Hadley’s booth and flirted with her, which now seemed about a hundred years ago.
No, Cam wasn’t angry at all. He was jealous. And that was a whole lot worse.
Chapter 17
It was the baby that got her. Not the images Hadley couldn’t stop from passing through her mind of Cooper with Maeve, holding their future sweet infant. Not the way she imagined Cooper would look at Maeve and beam, a look of pure love.
Nope. It was the baby. That’s what punched her in the gut. Her longing for a loving partner and the chaotic, wonderful mess of children and dogs filling up a household and making it a home. Something she feared she would never have.
She was fine, really she was. As she sat and drank the ice-cold Diet Coke Cam had scrounged up from the back of the fridge, she watched him prepare to give Jagger a bath, which strangely helped her get her mind off of everything else.
Cam, who’d stepped up to protect her—even though she could handle herself. Who hadn’t hesitated to insert himself between her and the paparazzi. Who’d promised them the interview she knew he didn’t want to give. She’d seen his face—it had been full of dread.
“Sorry for the bath, buddy,” Cam said as he started to spray Jagger down. His strong arms scrubbed, bubbles flying, the scent of dog shampoo filling the air. Except Jagger hated every minute and used every opportunity to shake himself out—which meant Cam was full of blueberry stains, whipped cream, and dog suds. Then the dog wriggled out of Cam’s grasp and began to run furiously around the room in circles, his tail tucked between his legs.