Page 27 of Harvest Brew With the Mountain Man
“West mentioned you’d be here. We brought you a roast beef as well. I asked Miss Dorothy your usual.” Camille passes my older brother lunch, and my heart falls a little harder for this woman.
“That was kind of you. Thank you,” he says.
“Alright,” Nora takes a big bite of her sandwich. “Gotta eat on the run before this town festival falls apart without me.”
“Chew, woman,” I tease, to which Nora flips me off. “We’ll be over in about thirty.”
“Good, I need your booth figured out, Hunter. So, chop chop.” She points at Camille. “Good chat. Wine on Thursday.”
“Seven sharp,” Camille confirms, smiling.
Nora leaves, and Camille sets up lunch on the adjacent table. Mid-setup, she pauses, the renovation plan catching her attention.
“Oh, I love that,” she points to Beckett’s idea to bring out the wall and build in a stone bar to feature festive pairings. “If I may?” she asks, picking up the marker.
Beckett bites into his sandwich and nods. Camille makes some marks and arrows.
“What if you create the bar closer to the end here, against the corner, creating an L-shape?” She looks over her shoulder. “See,the fireplace would end up across it, balancing that area of the bar. Being that foot traffic takes people there, having any holiday or festival features there would garner more potential sales.”
Silence. Camille’s eyes flick back and forth, waiting for a response. I’m already grinning.
“Well, shit.” Beckett swallows his bite. “Apologies. I meant, that’s actually smart. Visually, you can play off design more with that setup.”
“Exactly,” she brightens up. “I was sharing some ideas with West on the way here.”
“You’re an Interior Designer?” Beckett asks.
“I am. I graduated with my Bachelor’s and did freelance in Silver Lakes for the last four years. My preferred style isn’t conventional, but I’m able to adapt to more mainstream elements if the client needs.”
Beckett nods, then looks at me. “We have three weeks before the Fall Festival. We should have the back structure done by next week. Till then, you two can gather interiors.”
“I can email you my design ideas as they come, and I get this one’s approval here.” I’d so grab her and kiss her right now if Beckett weren’t here. On our way to town, Camille shared themes for the renovation that sounded amazing. Although I love the rustic warmth in the initial design, I’ve been itching for a change.
Beckett studies both of us. “Sounds like a plan.”
We finish lunch and clean up to head over to the tents. Beckett promises to have Grace call Camille this week before he heads out to coordinate plans for the bar.
“He looks good. Happy, even if still quiet,” Camille observes.
“Grace has been good for him. And to him. I’m grateful they found each other.” I lock the back door, and we head toward the front.
“I love how you love your brothers,” she says, wrapping her arm around mine.
“We’re all each other has,” I say, thinking how we’ve lost our parents, grandparents, and my aunt. Other than a cousin in Silver Lakes, not many Hunters left.
“Hey,” she stops us before I open the door, hugging my waist. “You have a village of people who love you. All of you. My mom told me about the women in your brothers’ lives. Your family is growing. Many more generations of Hunters to come.” She squeezes my waist. “God help us,” she laughs, letting go and taking my hand.
I don’t move. I pull her back in for a kiss. Her instant surprise immediately melts, and she kisses me back just as sweetly. Ending the kiss, I rest my forehead against hers.
“I didn’t see you coming, Little Pixie,” I whisper.
Her forehead nudges mine. “Back at you, Hero.”
I pull away, brow furrowed.
“While I was showering,” she begins, and I smirk.
Laughing, Camille pinches my back. “Get your head out of the gutter.”
