Page 9 of Honey for the Bear

What if he doesn’t want to see me?

The thought twists in my gut, but I push it aside.If Cameron doesn’t want me here, he’ll tell me.He’s never been shy about keeping his distance or speaking his mind.

When I finally reach his cabin, I stop at the edge of the clearing, my breath catching.It’s small and rustic, built from dark wood and nestled among the trees like it’s part of the forest itself.Smoke curls lazily from the chimney, and the faint glow of firelight spills through the window.

The sight of it—the sight of him—steadies me.

I walk up the steps to the porch and knock on the door, the sound louder than I expect in the stillness of the woods.For a moment, I hear nothing—no movement, no sound.And then I feel the heavy thud of footsteps before the door swings open.

Cameron stands there, filling the doorway, his gray eyes locking on to mine.He looks startled, like he wasn’t expecting anyone, and his hair is slightly mussed, as if he’s been running his hands through it.

“Hannah,” he says, his voice low and rough, like he hasn’t used it in hours.

“Hi,” I manage, suddenly feeling self-conscious.“I, um… I brought you something.”

I hold up the basket, and his eyes flick to it before returning to mine.For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, and I wonder if I’ve made a mistake.

But then he steps back, opening the door wider.“Come in.”

The cabin is warm and smells faintly of cedar and smoke.It’s small but cozy, with a stone fireplace crackling in the corner and shelves lined with books and tools.A half-finished wooden carving sits on the table, and my heart does a little flip when I recognize the outline of a bear.

I set the basket on the table, suddenly unsure of what to say.Cameron watches me, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable.

“I made muffins,” I say, the words tumbling out in a rush.“As a thank-you.For helping with the fence.”

His gaze softens, just barely, and he uncrosses his arms.“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” I say, meeting his eyes.

For a moment, we just stand there, the air between us thick with unspoken words.Cameron’s presence is overwhelming in such a small space, his broad shoulders and quiet intensity filling every corner of the room.

“Do you want one?”I ask, breaking the silence.

He nods, and I hand him a muffin.He takes it carefully, like he’s not sure what to do with it, and I have to hold back a smile.

“It’s not going to bite you,” I tease.

He huffs out a laugh, the sound low and rough, and takes a bite.His eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, I think he might actually smile.

“These are good,” he says, his voice softer now.

“Thanks,” I say, feeling a strange warmth spread through me.

We eat in silence for a while, the crackle of the fire the only sound.It’s not awkward, exactly, but a tension permeates the air, a sense that we’re both waiting for something to happen.

Finally, I set my muffin down and look at him.“Cameron.”

He glances at me, his gray eyes wary.

“Why do you keep pulling away?”I ask, my voice quiet but steady.

He tenses, his jaw tightening, and I see the walls go up before he even speaks.“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do,” I say, leaning forward.“You keep showing up, helping me, and then disappearing like you can’t get away fast enough.Why?”

His hands curl into fists on the table, and for a moment, I think he’s going to shut me out again.But then he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s complicated,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

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