When I finally finish the stage of painting I hoped to complete today, I put away my brushes and paints in the storage room the community center is letting me use, then walk back outside to take a critical look at my progress. When I see a man standing in front of the wall, his arms folded across his chest, I pause.
I don’t know who he is, but that means nothing, given the few people I actually know in town. As I approach slowly, I take in his tall, muscular stature. He exudes a calm air of authority that reminds me of my grandfather in a way, even though this guy can’t be that much older than me. He’s handsome, in a rugged lumberjack kind of way, but I prefer Beckett’s clean-cut, professional look.
Wait, when did I start comparing hot guys to Beckett?
Before I can processthatany further, the man turns to me, and a warm smile fills his face. He really is a good-looking guy, but the wink of the setting sun hitting a metal band on his finger is pretty obvious.
“You must be Cam. I’m Ethan. I was hoping to meet you.”
Oh shit, Ethan as in, Mayor Ethan?
“Hi,” I say, wiping my hands on my leggings as I close the distance between us. My gaze darts to the wall that probably looks like a hot fucking mess of paint to an untrained eye. “I’m nowhere near done, I promise it won’t look like shit when it’s finished.” I wince at the curse that falls from my mouth. Swearing in front of the mayor? Granted, Grandpa heard me say a lot worse, even when he was in office, but I don’t even know this guy.
Thankfully, Ethan just chuckles. “All good, I trust you. You come highly recommended.”
My mouth falls open. “By who?”
“Every single Donnelly.” Ethan grins. “Pretty sure Claire told the head of parks and recreation that if we didn’t hire you to paint the mural, we were fools, seeing as no one in town has, as she put it, a fraction of an ounce of your talent.”
I stay frozen, staring at him for what is probably an embarrassing amount of time before I find the ability to talk again.
“That’s, um, wow. Okay, so I hope that didn’t insult someone who is actually from here. I mean, I’m just staying with my friend Beckett. I love Dogwood Cove, but it isn’t my town, you know? If I got the job over someone who’s from here, I’d feel awful.”
Ethan doesn’t do a great job concealing his laughter, but he eventually manages to interrupt my rambling. “No, Cam, trust me. We didn’t have anyone in town interested in taking on the project, so were planning on recruiting someone. Claire’s suggestion of hiring you was perfectly timed, and when she showed us examples of your work, it was an easy decision. We’re honoured you agreed to do it.”
I’m still baffled as to where Beckett’s mom would have obtained examples of my painting, but that’s a question I’ll have to ask Beck, I suppose.
“I’m grateful for the chance to do it,” I answer honestly. “It’s been a while since I did something this detailed, but I’m really excited to work on it.”
Ethan nods, and again, I’m struck by how similar his energy is to Grandpa’s. Warm, calm, and confident; it’s easy to see why he’s the man the town chooses to have in charge.
“Rumour has it you’re also interested in one of our vacant storefronts?”
Oh shit. Now I’m gonna strangle Beck, right after I kiss him in gratitude. The man has no business telling the fucking mayor I want to open an art studio. Then again, if I did decide to do it, having Ethan on my side would be a good thing.
“Well, I mean, maybe. Only if the town felt it would be a good addition. I’ve always wanted to offer community art classes and a space for locals to explore their own hidden talents.”
Fucking hell, I’m rambling again.
“It’s a great idea, and something the whole town would get behind, I’m sure. I won’t pressure you, but if you want to know more about the available space, just give me a call. My sister and I co-own that strip of properties, so we’d be your landlords, or we might be interested in selling if you wanted a more permanent situation.”
I nod because what else am I going to say? The fucking mayor has basically given the green light to my dream of opening an art studio. All I have to do is decide if Dogwood Cove is where I want to stay. And that decision is not as easy to make as it would have been before I had sex with my best friend.
Chapter twenty-two
Beckett
“Do we need ground rules for this?”
I keep my eyes trained forward and don’t look over at Cam, despite wanting to reach a hand out and still her fidgeting the entire drive to Westport.
“For what, exactly?” I ask, even though I’m relatively confident I know what she’s asking.
Tonight’s the first time we’ll be seeing my family since adding sex into our relationship, and I’m betting she’s nervous.
To my surprise, Cam has been a lot more openly affectionate with me ever since we started sleeping together. It’s been a challenge not to let my heart get ahead of my head and remember that the sex doesn’t necessarily mean she’s going to fall in love with me or want anything permanent. When she’s constantly wanting to touch me, cuddle on the couch, or just fold herself into my arms, it’s all too easy to imagine this being our life together forever.
Even in public, she’s opened up. The other day, Cam was the one to reach for my hand as we walked down to The Nutty Muffin for breakfast.
