Yeah. Ouch. Maybe she hadn’t resolved those issues either.
Then she whirled on him. “Maybe you intimidated her.”
He gave a quiet snort himself. At six four and two twenty-five, he probably did look a little intimidating. But he’d never physically threatened anyone off the football field. Except maybe his younger brother, Nick. But that was mostly in fun. “You know I’d never do that.”
She was still feisty, that was for sure, and part of him was relieved to see it. He’d worried that all the negative media attention surrounding her breakup from that ass Cooper Hemsley had squeezed the feistiness right out of her.
On the other hand, that feistiness could be a real problem. Because even as a teenager, she’d fought tooth and nail for passion projects. Like the time she’d picketed a construction zone for a new business that was about to be built over loggerhead turtle nests. And when she took the SAT three times to try to get into NYU. Which she ultimately did. With a scholarship.
And him. He’d been a passion project. In that she’d loved him wholly and completely. But he’d always questioned whether what she felt for him was real, never allowing himself to believe someone could love him like that. So he’d ruined it. He’d ruined them.
“That’s just the point, Cam,” she said softly. “It’s been a long time. I don’t know who you are anymore.”
Her words punched at him more than he cared to admit. He knew exactly what she thought he was. A first-class jerk. To her, he’d been exactly that, many years ago.
He’d fallen for her in high school, bad. But she’d always been out of his league. So before college, he’d dumped her before she could dump him. And he’d broken her heart. Stupid.
Such was first love. Innocent and sweet and sometimes foolish. He’d grown up and moved on, and he’d left his young self far behind.
But judging by the way his blood was coursing through him right now, maybe not as far behind as he’d like.
“Your grandmother told me to put in an offer,” he said. “She sure was in a hurry to unload this place is all I’m saying.” Since he’d come back home, Madeline Edwards had accepted him as a friend and a neighbor despite his history with Hadley. And he helped her out when he could. Like taking Bowie while she was in the hospital.
Hadley frowned, a little V delicately creasing the space between her brows. Which distracted him in a crazy way until she said, “Was she medicated at the time?”
“Oh for the love of—” Irritating, that’s what she was. He suddenly remembered she’d been really good at pushing all his buttons too.
“Okay, you two.” Mayellen rolled her eyes. “Enough.” Her voice brought Cam back to Pooch Palace, and the fact that there were actually other people in the room. Mayellen’s stern look reminded him that she’d had a lifetime of disciplining schoolchildren and he had the feeling she wanted to put both of them in time-out. “You’re disturbing the pets.”
Neither pet looked very disturbed. Bowie had fallen fast asleep at Cam’s feet. And the ratty-haired schoodle or doodle or whatever it was raised his head as if to say Hey, is anybody paying attention to me? Then dropped it again and went back to snoozing.
“I want you to know,” Hadley said, hands on hips, her parting shot, “that as soon as my grandmother recovers a little, I’m going to tell her that I can help run the business. There’s no need to sell.”
Cam eyed her with what he hoped was a neutral expression. Maddy had approached him about buying the building long before her accident. And so he spoke as calmly as he could. “You may think you’re going to blow in here for a few weeks and make everything right, but I moved back here. I want to be part of the community. Real solutions for this building and for our downtown take time.”
“The way I see it,” Ivy said, stepping between them like a disgruntled umpire, “there’s only one person who can clear this up pronto and she’s recuperating from surgery. Which I’m sure you both will take into consideration. Now, we’re closing for lunch, so you’ll have to continue your argument outside.”
Without a word, Cam found himself nudged outside and standing next to Hadley on Petunia Street, the Pooch Palace sign swinging in the breeze above their heads. Pride had him working hard to disguise the slight limp that still plagued him after three knee surgeries.
The last time he’d stood there with her…well. They hadn’t been arguing, that was for sure.
She’d been on a ladder painting that sign. The poodle with a crown and the lettering underneath that read WE TREAT YOUR PET LIKE ROYALTY. He could still see his eighteen-year-old self impulsively grabbing her and swinging her around and kissing her. She was so startled she’d dropped her paintbrush and he’d worn his jeans for the rest of the school year with white paint splatters because he couldn’t afford new ones.
But it had been worth that kiss.
Part of him wanted to squeeze her shoulder and comfort her, tell her everything was going to be okay. And ask her why didn’t they go get a drink and talk about old times?
Maybe if he was a gentleman, he’d let this whole thing go.
But while the building was ancient and in need of new everything, the location was prime, right in the middle of the best block of foot traffic downtown. The main municipal parking lot was right across the street. And best of all, there was a view, from the unused second floor anyway, of Petunia Street dashing down to the spectacular Atlantic, where on any given day you could see white sails dotting the endless blue water.
Hadley wasn’t even looking at him anymore. She was focused on something in the distance, at the downhill slant of Petunia Street as it sloped toward the ocean. “I need to find out what my grandma really wants.”
He hadn’t intended for this to get so complicated. The idea for the sports bar/restaurant had taken hold and had got him excited, the only thing that had even mildly interested him in the past six months of merciless rehab.
It was a way for him to come out swinging. He had to.
He hadn’t even granted any interviews since his injury, which was driving the press crazy. But when he did speak, he wanted to have another life plan locked in place, or the whole world would look on him as a sad sack. Something he could not tolerate.
In his career as a tight end, he’d learned to trust his instincts. And his gut was telling him that Maddy hadn’t been kidding about wanting to get rid of her business, no matter how fired up her granddaughter was. So she might as well sell the building to him. He’d give her a great price. Make sure she’d have lots of extra padding to retire well.
Hadley stared dead at him. “Until I’m convinced that my grandma really wants out of this building, you’re not getting it.”
He stabbed a finger in the air. “You’re just as hardheaded as ever.”
She folded her arms. “And you’re just as arrogant as every celebrity client I’ve ever had.”
They were standing in the middle of the street arguing like an angry divorced couple. Heads were turning. She was fighting for her grandma, of course. And he couldn’t blame her. He couldn’t blame her at all.
He struggled not to look directly at her because when he did…when he did, their gazes snagged. Locked and held. And that zippy, crackling electrical current got to buzzing again. The same wild, untamed one from—what was it—seventeen years ago.