“We don’t need to bring Carter into this. Plus, I didn’t talk about her that much.”
“You talked about her all the damn time.”
“I don’t know why the conversation got pointed in my direction, but we’re going to circle back and talk about you, my friend. Don’t think I didn’t miss the fact you said love life. Is the Camden Hunter in love?”
I grunt. I’m not in love with Pippa. I haven’t known her long enough to love her—I think. I have no prior history to know what it’d even feel like to be in love. But I do believe I’ve developed feelings for her. Weird, foreign feelings I’ve never felt before.
“No, I haven’t fallen in love,” I snap. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about the fact that you were willingly lying on a pair of sheets that seemed to have a lower thread count than your IQ.”
“I told you, it was the rental.”
“Margo is still ignoring me for your damn project, which means I have all the time in the world right now. So I can keep asking you questions until you eventually stop dodging them, or you could just answer me now, and we don’t have to keep going back and forth.”
My finger and thumb pinch the bridge of my nose. Screw him and the fact he can read me like an open book. “Do you remember when we first all came to Sutten?”
“You mean the time I got married there? Yeah, you could say I still remember it.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a dick?”
Beck laughs on the other line. “Takes one to know one. Keep going. But yes, I do, in fact, remember my wedding, thank you for asking.”
“Well, remember when someone spilled beer all over me at the stupid tourist bar?”
“Yes.”
“And remember when your dessert caterer ran into me and spilled cupcakes all over me?”
“I do remember hearing about that, yes.”
“Turns out the woman in both those scenarios owns the neighboring business to mine. She owns the cafe next to the gallery.”
“And you’re seeing her? I swore I remembered Margo saying how much of an asshole you were to her.”
I swallow because I do regret how awful I was to Pippa. Looking back, I don’t know what my problem was, but I definitely wasn’t kind to her. It’s a miracle she still wants to speak to me—is allowing me to take her on a date. “Yeah, I was,” I finally answer, remembering Beck waiting on the other line.
“I’ve got to know more about how this happened.”
So for the next ten minutes, I relay everything to Beck like a couple of gossiping teenagers. He asks questions the entire time, seemingly interested in the story of me and Pippa.
At the end of it, Beck lets out a long whistle. “Damn. Never did I think I’d see the day where this happened. Your crush is cute.”
If he was here in person, I’d flip him off. I do it regardless, even though he can’t see me. I lean back in my office chair, staring up at the white ceiling. Even after filling Beck in on everything and talking about it out loud, I have no idea what to call what’s happening.
“Fuck off, man. I’m a grown adult. I don’t have a crush. I don’t know what it is, but I can’t get her out of my mind.”
“They’re called feelings, Camden. Have fun with them.”
I grunt. I don’t want to have feelings for Pippa, but I don’t not want to have feelings for her either. It’s a terrible situation. One I can’t wrap my mind around.
“I’m going to take her on our first real date tonight,” I blurt. God, I really am a little lovesick teenager. Now I’m talking about first dates at almost forty years old. This woman is too far in my head—my skin—my everything.
“Please tell me you have something romantic planned.”
“She’s planning it, actually.”
Beck lets out a disappointed sigh. “You’re making her plan the date? What the hell, man.”
“She loves this town and all the little local secrets about it. I wouldn’t know where to start here when planning a nice date. So yeah, asshole, I told her she could pick where, and she seemed very excited about it, thank you very much.”
“If you say so.” He laughs, managing to irritate me more.
“I actually don’t remember asking your opinion.”
“What a shame for you, then, because I’m still going to give it to you.”
“Not if I hang up on you.” I spin a pen in my hand, needing something to do with my hands. I’m getting anxious because the only thing I really want to do is forget about everything I need to do today and give Pippa a visit next door.