Emily gestures for me to move out of the way before she helps push the stretcher into the ambulance, climbs inside, and reaches for the doors. “We need to go! You can meet us there, Rex.”
Most of the town knows me as Rex Coleman. One of five brothers who co-own the Coleman Lumber Company. It’s been in my family since the founding days of Raven’s Crest. Roots that bury as deep as Cami’s family, the Parkers. The same roots that some say began in Salem, Massachusetts.
“I’ll see you soon, Granny Jo!” I holler as Emily closes the ambulance doors and it pulls away, the sirens blaring to alert anyone nearby of the emergency.
I feel a hand clamp on my shoulder and turn to Voodoo.
“I’m ridin’ with ya. Let’s go.”
My gaze swings to the smoldering building to my left, taking in the blackened interior of the bakery. It’s fucking ruined. No more pink and white walls and table décor or glass display cases filled with dozens of baked goods. Instead of butter, sugar, and vanilla, there’s a deep, chemical, tar-like stench saturating the air.
This isn’t an accident.
Why the fuck would someone want to burn down the bakery?
I follow Voodoo to my bike and swing a leg over the seat. If I wasn’t so concerned about Granny Jo, I’d stay and talk to Braden. He has to have theories about how the fire started.
As I sit on my bike, I dial Cami’s number. I’ll have to explain why I have it and why I’ve never deleted it. She won’t like it. She’ll probably be pissed. I don’t know why, but the thought makes my dick hard. It’s got nothing to do with her Granny or the bakery. I’m not an asshole. It’s about me and Cami and all the shit left unspoken between us. The fight that I can sense is coming. And maybe. . . It’s the tiny spark of hope that she’ll come home, take over the bakery, and I can finally claim her.
Because Camille Parker has been mine since she kissed me.
And I’ll prove it.
When I dial her number, it rings six times and goes to voicemail. No surprise. I call back. It takes three more times before Cami answers with more than a little attitude.
“What do you want, Rex?”
“Darlin’, I need you to breathe. I’ve got news about Granny Jo.”
I don’t have to stand beside her to know her expression when she hears this. Her voice cracks as she responds. “Tell me.”
I’ve always called her Blissy Girl. It’s been her nickname since high school. It’s a rotten time to show her that I remember it, that I remembereverything, but I need her to focus and not lose her shit when she’s alone. “I’ve got her until you get here, Blissy Girl. Okay?”
“Rex.”
All she says is my name—just one word.
And I know I’d give my life for hers.
It was true three years ago, and it hasn’t fucking changed.
I don’t think it ever will.
Chapter 2 Camille
“Cut!”
The director gives me a thumbs-up as I glance in his direction. It’s been seven hours of grueling takes, visits between them with makeup and hair to ensure I stayed looking flawless on camera throughout the process. My lower back aches, and my cheeks hurt from how long I’ve been smiling.
But. . . my commercial isfinallyready.
All the hard work since the day I received my acceptance email for the hometown bakers competition, through the stressful hours on and off camera, is paying off. Six months ago, I struggled to pay my bills. Now, as the winner of the popular show Hometown Bakers Championship, I’m suddenly twenty-five thousand dollars richer and being nearly overwhelmed with endorsements. The best part? My new line of bakeware has an eye-catching, colorful logo. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.
But. . . with the fame also comes the struggle to find time for myself. I’ve got a publicist now, Kat, who helps organize everything in my life while also keeping my schedule full. I can’t sneak a quick walk outdoors or run to the bathroom without a text or phone call. It’s a frustrating problem, but one I’m learning to accept.
Kat meets me as I leave the set, ushering me to my dressing room so I can change and go over the rest of my schedule for the week. It takes far longer than I want, and by the time she leaves, I’m struggling to keep my eyes open.
Finally alone, I remove the excess makeup from my face and apply my favorite lotion before brushing out my hair. I always keep a change of clothes, usually several outfits, since it’s Kat’s job and she never fails to provide what I need. Once I change, Iknow I should leave, but now that I’m in a comfy pair of leggings and a long, soft cotton shirt, I don’t want to move.
