“How old are your girls?” I asked as we fitted another section into place.
“Audrey’s seven and Alice is five.”
“They must be so excited about this.”
“Alice has been asking every day when it’s coming.” That soft note was back in his voice. “Pretty sure she’s going to launch herself onto it the second she sees it.”
I laughed, picturing a tiny blonde blur flying through the air. “I would’ve done the same thing at that age if my mom had let me.”
He glanced at me, a slight frown between his brows, and I realized the mention of my mom like that had made it unnecessarily weird.
“But hey, at least I learned how to walk in heels before I could ride a bike, so that’s something.” And that is not how we ease the tension. Fucking hell. I cleared my throat. “Anyway, so, um, what do you do for work? I assume trampoline installer is out?”
Oh God, was that… was that a smile?
“I’m a mover. You can let go of that now and take this for me.”
“Sure thing.”
Cam handed me the next pole. When our fingers brushed, I felt the tingles all the way up my arm.
I had to drag in air before I could speak again. “So, a mover. Do you work for yourself or someone else?”
“Myself.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah, it has its perks.”
We swapped out the next pole while I racked my brain for something else to say. “Who do I call if I ever need help to move? Like, what’s your company name?”
He hesitated for a beat, then said, “Rockford Movers.”
My mouth fell open. “R-Rockford Movers? As in the one on all the commercials? With the funny old guy who does the air guitar thing and yells ‘Rock-FORD it!’?”
“Yeah, that’s my dad.”
“Wow.”
His jaw tightened slightly as his guard slammed up. Not hostile exactly, but definitely done with this particular topic of conversation.
Right. Okay. Got it.
I focused on holding the next pole steady, letting the silence stretch. He worked methodically, eyes on the metal, avoiding my gaze. I kept my mouth shut, but my brain was racing.
Rockford Movers.TheRockford Movers. With locations all over the state and those commercials that played during every football game.
Which meant Cam wasn’t just a guy with a truck. He was... well, he was loaded. And he was living next door to me in a perfectly average ranch house, fixing his own trampoline.
Another piece of the puzzle. Grumpy. Good with his hands. Secretly loaded?
Stop it, Emily. Not your business.
“Can you hold this tighter?” His voice broke through my thoughts.
“Oh. Yeah, sorry.” I adjusted my grip, putting more pressure on the pole.
We worked in silence after that, the only sounds being the clink of metal on metal and the occasional grunt of effort. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, this quiet between us, but it wasn’t terrible either. Just two people who’d run out of small talk, focused on getting a job done.
