Page 33 of Rocky Mountain Cowboy Christmas
Taking a deep breath, she let it out and smiled, picking up her pace. After what had happened at the diner, going to the grocery store would be a breeze.
Chapter 8
By the time she’d reached Borne Market, some of her ebullient cheer had faded, but Camille forced herself through the doors anyway. Unless she wanted to eat scrap metal, barn wood, or cat food, she had to do this.
Grabbing a cart, she speed-walked toward the produce aisle, avoiding any eye contact. It didn’t help.
“Camille Brandt!” Mrs. Murphy called from where she stood next to her register. “I haven’t seen you in ages. Come over here and talk to me.”
Quickly debating and abandoning the idea of feigning sudden acute deafness, Camille turned and headed toward the checkout, telling herself that the upcoming conversation couldn’t be any worse than the encounter she’d just had with Ryan, and she’d managed to survive that.
“How are you?” Mrs. Murphy asked with heavy sympathy and a whole lot of avid curiosity.
Blinking in surprise, Camille tried to figure out why Mrs. Murphy was using that tone. “Um…fine. Busy with all the Christmas orders, so I should probably…” She gestured toward the aisles, knowing that it was likely a useless escape attempt.
She was right. “June Lin and I were just talking about you.”Tsking, Mrs. Murphy shook her head with sadness belied by the gleam in her eyes. “She said she sat you down and talked to you about your littleproblem.”
Here we go. With great effort, Camille resisted rolling her eyes. “I don’t have a problem, Mrs. Murphy. Mrs. Lin is just a little too good at noticing when I have visitors, that’s all.”
“That’s what I told June. She needs to butt out of your sex life. You should have fun while you’re young. At least you have company now. It’s better than you spending all your time alone like you did after your dear grandma died.”
Don Nally rolled his cart toward Mrs. Murphy’s checkout lane, and Camille eyed him, hoping he’d distract the cashier long enough for her to slip away. “I’m not…” She trailed off, not even knowing where to start correcting all of Mrs. Murphy’s false assumptions.
“I just have to ask one thing,” Mrs. Murphy said, and Camille braced herself. Don, her potential savior, was no help, listening avidly as he very slowly emptied his cart onto the belt, one item at a time. Camille frowned at him as Mrs. Murphy continued, “Barry? Really? He’s so…unpleasant.”
“Already? How’d you even know about him? Thatjusthappened.” Seeing Mrs. Murphy and Don light up with glee at the admission that wasn’t really an admission, Camille shook her head. “Not thatanythinghappened with Barry, except that he picked up my packages. He didn’t even come inside!” Taking a deep breath, she tried to smother some of her indignation. For two people who professed not to be able to stand each other, Mrs. Lin and Mrs. Murphy had an awfully efficient system of gossip. Forcing a smile, Camille mentally reminded herself that Mrs. Murphy was an elderly lady, and as infuriating as her insinuations were, they weren’t actually harmful. “Good to see you, Mrs. Murphy,” she lied. “You have a customer, so I’ll just go get my shopping done.”
“Don’t stop talking on my account,” Don said, but Camille was already moving. How had she thought that grocery shopping was going to be better than her abbreviated trip to the diner?
She sped through the aisles, keeping her gaze focused firmly on the items on the shelves. As she reached the dairy corner, her last stop before checking out, she’d managed to evade attempted conversations with no fewer than five different people, and she was feeling almost triumphant as she grabbed a half gallon of milk out of the cooler.
“Camille!” The instinctive cringe at the sound of her name was quickly followed by relief when she recognized the voice. Turning, she saw Maya rushing toward her, and she just managed to move the milk carton out of the way before the girl squeezed her around the waist. Giving her a semi-awkward, one-armed return hug, Camille felt a bubble of hope rise in her as she looked over Maya’s shoulder. This time, she wasn’t disappointed. Steve was headed her way, looking as rugged and handsome as always, pushing a half-full grocery cart.
“Hey, Maya.” Camille couldn’t take her eyes off him. How anyone could look so good in the awful fluorescent lighting of the Borne Market was beyond her. The thought reminded her of her own rather rumpled appearance, and she resisted the urge to smooth the hair tumbling over her coat in messy curls. “Hi, Steve. Doing some shopping?” The second the question was out, she wanted to suck it right back in. What else would they be doing at the grocery store?
Kindly, neither of them pointed out the stupidity of her question. “Yeah. I had choir practice after school,” Maya said. “I’m doing a solo at our winter concert next week.”
“Congratulations,” Camille said, finally able to rip her gaze from Steve so she could focus on Maya. “You must be a really good singer.”
“I’m okay.” Maya shrugged, ducking her head a little as she peeked up at Camille. “I wouldn’t say I’mspectacular, though.”
“I would.” Steve stopped his cart next to Camille’s and leaned on the handle.
“That’s because you’re my dad,” Maya said, although she couldn’t hide her delighted smile. “Youhaveto say that. It’s, like, in the dad rule book.”
“Your choir director didn’thaveto offer you a solo, though,” Camille said. “I bet your dad’s saying that because it’s true, not just out of fatherly obligation.”
“Do you want to come to the concert?” Maya asked, and Camille shot Steve a quick look. When he nodded his agreement to the invitation, she turned back to Maya.
“I’d love to hear you sing.” The thought of packing into an auditorium with a bunch of Borne parents didn’t thrill her, but she figured she could hover near the back for a quick escape after Maya finished her solo. She wouldn’t mind sitting with the Springfields, either, despite the crowd. “When is it?”
“A week from tomorrow,” Steve said. “We can pick you up beforehand.”
“Yes!” Maya agreed enthusiastically before Camille could respond. “That way, you can go out for dessert with us. That’s what we always do after concerts.”
“Uh…okay.” Despite her hesitation, she couldn’t stop the smile that spread over her face. Was that a date? Had she just been invited on a date by Steve Springfield? Okay, it’d officially been his daughter who asked, and it was a family date, but Camille didn’t care. It still felt amazing and exhilarating and like the start of some new, wonderful thing.
“Camille!” Deanna Lin called out as she pushed her cart toward their small huddle in the corner. Camille groaned, and Maya giggled, leaning against her arm.
