A Side of Faith, Hope and Love: The Sandwich Romance Novella Collection Read online

  And with that, the Prince look-a-like was gone.

  ***

  Operation: Get a Date with Rachel Carter had officially begun.

  Cameron took the steps to his brick ranch house two at a time, anxious to get inside and plot his next move. After his failed attempts to get to know her, he’d gone there today to extend a peace offering and informally withdraw his name from the “trying to win a date” pot. Not that he’d ever put his name in it. That had all been Maddie’s doing. But he wanted to make sure the air was clear, that she was aware any scheming was purely Maddie and not sanctioned by him.

  But then he’d overheard her joke about kissing him and immediately changed his mind.

  Not that he was delusional enough to think she’d actually been saying she wanted to kiss him. He knew full well her words were drenched in sarcasm.

  But the desire those words dredged up was—

  Unexplainable. He hadn’t wanted something so bad since he’d proposed to Marcy. Maybe not even then.

  The truth halted him.

  He’d loved Marcy. They had been—compatible. She was the perfect counterpart to him in every way. But a relationship should be more than looking good on paper, right?

  When she’d dumped him, he’d been angrier about losing his dream of being a dad than losing his dream of being her husband.

  Putting his head in his palm, he took a breath. Stupid. He’d been so stupid.

  But Rachel—He barely knew her, and already there was something that lured him in.

  He couldn’t put a label to it yet. But his heart urged him to figure out where it could lead.

  A date.

  That’s all he wanted. To get to know her more. Explore the possibilities.

  She was smart, funny, good with kids, beautiful but not in an I’m-so-vain kind of way some women had. And she’d been at church with Maddie and Reuben the last two weeks. It didn't clarify where she was at with Jesus, but it was a good sign.

  On paper, she was pretty much perfect for him.

  But Marcy had been too.

  There was just something—different about Rachel. A hint of sparkle that ran deeper than any list of attributes could ever do justice to. He saw it the few times she’d actually laughed in his presence. It hit him smack in the face when he’d been at her house and seen her crazy wall project. It was even there when she popped gum in her mouth and attacked it with her teeth like a starved person.

  The brief moment before he left had sealed it. The look in her eyes, the question, the hesitation, the—desire, was even more proof of the sparkle that lured him.

  It also hinted she might think a little more about him than she pretended to.

  Inside his house, he strode to his office desk and wiggled the mouse attached to the laptop. After typing in the password to unlock the screen, he pulled up a blank spreadsheet.

  He was a fan of spreadsheets even though he was fully aware this qualified him as a hundred percent geek. His philosophy: Geeks Rule.

  At the top of the screen, he typed, Dating Rachel.

  Just seeing the words on the screen made him roll his eyes. If anyone found out he’d made a spreadsheet of dating ideas for a woman, they’d label him not only a geek, but probably a stalker as well.

  He clicked the X button and chose not to save it.

  Leaning back in his chair, he covered his face with his hands. He needed ideas.

  He wasn’t a line kind of guy. Hey baby, you must be tired ‘cause you’ve been running through my mind ALL day long.

  Getting on his hands and knees and begging would probably be out of the question too.

  He could always pull the whole, “God came to me in a dream and told me I am supposed to take you out on a date” card, but yeah. Not only was it a lie, but he didn’t think God would approve of that method of date procurement. It probably wouldn’t work anyway.

  He was about to give up on the whole thing when his cell phone rang out the tune, “Who Let the Dogs Out.”

  It was his mom. She hated the song, but she’d had a horrible habit of forgetting to close the fence in the backyard. They’d chased their two beagle dogs around the neighborhood more times than he cared to remember.

  So whenever he heard that line of the song, he always bopped his head and sang, “Mom did, Mom did.”

  She didn’t find it amusing, but everyone else did.

  “Hey, Mom. Everything okay?” She normally called him every Sunday evening at five o’clock sharp to find out how he was doing. It was her new routine now that she’d remarried and moved from Illinois to Tampa, Florida. She was a regular beach bum now, or so he teased. A Saturday afternoon phone call was totally out of character.

  “Everything’s just fine. Can a mom not call her son on a Saturday to check up on him?”

  He smiled at her feigned indignation. “Of course she can. But you don’t, so spill it. What’s up?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing. A little bird called and told me you’ve been making eyes at a new young lady in town.”

  Oh brother. She never ceased to make him feel like he was fourteen years old. Probably because somewhere in her sweet head, she wished he was. “Little birds have a habit of chirping when it’s none of their business. And I’m shocked, Mother. You? Gossiping?"

  “Telling what one saw firsthand is different than gossiping. And I called you to verify it, now didn’t I?”

  Who would have seen them together?

  Ah. Serena. She and Mom used to be in the same women’s group at church. “There’s nothing to talk about. Her name is Rachel, she’s a friend of Maddie and Reuben’s, and just moved to town. She was assigned to coordinate the Fall Fest this year, and I’m helping her. End of story.” For now, anyway.

  “You like her.”

  “Mom. I barely know her.”

  His phone buzzed in his ear. Looking at his screen, he sighed. Great. Sam must have taught her how to Facetime. Just last week he’d gotten a Facebook friend request from her. She’d already shared over a dozen Internet memes that were obvious hoaxes and posted just as many “old lady” Maxine jokes.

  If he got one more, “If you don’t repost this, you don’t love Jesus” status tag, he was going to unfriend her.

  He clicked the accept button and his sweet mother’s face popped up on the screen. She was a beautiful lady, her hair artificially still light brown and her face wrinkle free except for a few small creases around her eyes and lips. She credited it to the use of cold cream every day of her life. But while she was still breathtaking on the outside, her heart was even more beautiful. He’d definitely been blessed in the mother department.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  He watched as she wiggled the phone, trying to prop it up. The picture ended up far away and a little crooked, probably leaning against something on her desk. She settled back in her seat, hands clasped in front of her like a giddy schoolgirl. “So, what’s she like? I need details, Cameron, details.”

  “I don’t have any to give you. She’s nice, but there’s nothing between us. Honestly, I think she hates me, although I’m not sure why.”

  Mom’s lips tipped into a scowl. “Hates you? Maybe she isn’t the girl for you then.”

  “Hate’s too strong of a word, I guess. She’s given me no indication she has any type of romantic feelings for me. How’s that?”

  She leaned forward, now unnaturally close to the lens. “Sounds like you’re treating her like a stock you’re analyzing. Does that mean you do have romantic feelings for her then?”

  “I didn’t say that.” He glanced at his computer, the spreadsheet he'd just deleted flashing in his mind. “Okay, maybe a little. But I don’t even know her yet. And I don’t want to come across as some creep who won’t take no for an answer.”

  “Well, I have it on good authority she has a plausible reason for her animosity, and it’s not directed at you. I say you turn on your Foster charm and woo her.”

  He leaned back in his chair and shook his
head. “Foster charm?”

  “Your daddy was quite the charmer, young man. Surely you remember. Even after we were married, he would whisk me around the kitchen for a quick dance or sneak a kiss in the middle of the grocery store, just to make me blush. He had this way of making me want to be around him. We were married fifteen years, and I’d still get giddy at the thought of him coming home every night.”

  He remembered. About a half hour before dad would get home from work, she’d flurry around, making sure everything was perfect, then greet him at the door with an uncomfortably passionate kiss.

  Cameron had always thought it was gross.

  Until one day when he was eleven, his dad didn’t show up. He’d had a heart attack while driving home and ran into a light pole. He'd died instantly.

  After that, Cam would have given anything to see his mom and dad kiss again. He wouldn’t even yell “eww” anymore.

  Now Mom had Sam. He was a great guy and very much a father figure to Cameron.

  But there was still a giant hole.

  He felt it every night as he fell into the king-sized bed—alone. Every time he saw a dad hoist a kid onto his shoulders for a ride. Every time he sat in his dining room and ate alone.

  If only Marcy hadn’t changed her mind….

  Rachel’s face danced into his mental view. Her smile. Her laugh he’d only been privileged to hear a few times during that crazy Quelf game. Was she the reason God allowed Marcy to back out of their engagement?

  His eyes flitted back to his phone. His mom was sitting back, arms folded over her chest, a smug look on her face. “You’ve got it bad.”

  Denying it was futile. “The feeling isn’t mutual, and I have no idea what to do about it.”

  She leaned forward again, only her blue eyes and nose visible on the small screen. “The charm, my dear. And don’t forget. A girl’s most valuable weapon is the ability to play hard-to-get.”

  Was she right?

  Was Rachel only turning up her nose at him to see if he was up to the challenge of winning her heart?

  It seemed crazy. Women didn’t really play those kind of games, did they?

  Oh who was he kidding? Of course they did.

  Well, Rachel better be ready, because he was going to score a date if it was the last thing he did.

  Seven

  The dreaded Friday had arrived.

  Rachel managed to dodge Cameron all week, even though Maddie had tried to “accidentally” arrange a meeting on more than one occasion.

  She was invited over for dinner on Wednesday, which seemed really nice until she drove by the Callahan’s and saw a white SUV sitting in the driveway.

  The bumper sticker gave him away. That’s How I Roll… followed by a little stick figure kicking a soccer ball.

  Instead of stopping, she went home, texted Maddie something had come up and she couldn’t make it, then ate a bologna sandwich instead.

  Considering Maddie’s cooking skills, she was probably better off anyway.

  Then the pregnant meddler had messaged back, saying they could do lunch out at the Emporium the next day instead.

  Which was fine, until halfway through lunch, Cameron showed up and Maddie invited him to eat with them.

  When he made a move to sit in the chair beside Rachel, she’d thought fast and feigned checking her phone. Proclaiming her lunch break almost over, she grabbed her half-eaten sandwich to go.

  A knock sounded at her office door. She straightened her shoulders, smoothed her hands over her shirt and tugged at the bottom, then cleared her throat. “Come in.”

  Just as expected, Cameron strode through the door, looking confident, and to her irritation, more handsome than ever. A tailored dark gray sports jacket hung on his broad shoulders, a white dress-shirt underneath, the top button undone.

  Her heart hammered in her chest. He always looked great, even in shorts and a t-shirt, but this—this made her want to forget all her reasons for keeping him at a distance. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re a dead ringer for Prince Harry?”

  One of his eyebrows arched. “Hello to you too. And no, can’t say they have. Is that a compliment or do you prefer the Prince William type?”

  Blood rushed to her face. Why in the world had she let the thought slip out of her mouth? Instead of looking stupid by backtracking, she shrugged. “You know, chicks dig a balding man.”

  He winked at her and shrugged. “Note to self. Shave my head.”

  The thought of him cutting his thick, red hair made her want to shout objections. But that was silly. Why should she care about his hair? She was the one who hated the reminder it gave her. “You’ll find a girl someday who will love you, red hair and all.” Just not her. Even though, now that she thought about it, seeing Cameron no longer brought up the same memories.

  But this wasn’t the time to explore that rationale. She reached for the binder on the side of the desk, ready to change the conversation. “Okay, so the Fall Fest. Where do we start?”

  He studied her for a moment as if looking for something in her expression, then sat in a chair opposite her. “The beginning. We usually hold it around Halloween. It’s on a Thursday this year, so I assume the Saturday before?”

  She nodded. “Melissa wrote the dates in the book and reserved the park. She also noted one of the churches agreed to be a back-up in case it rains or snows.”

  “Sounds great. We’re a little behind. Usually they already have sponsors lined up, so it’s going to be tight getting everything together in the next month.”

  Rachel straightened her spine. It would be tight, but she’d prove she could do it. “We’ll get it done. Plus, from what I can tell, a lot of the sponsors are the same every year, so I hope most of that work will just be renewals. I’m going to work on contacting them next week.”

  He shook his head. “Actually, we usually let the kids do that. It’s a good after-school project for them. They walk around downtown and try to drum up sponsors for the different activities. I’ve already had a few ask me when they get to start.”

  “Yes, I know. I read the notes.” Rachel took a breath and prayed for patience. Having to explain herself to Cameron wasn’t on her list of favorite things to do right now. “But I figured we got such a late start, I could just do that part easier myself on the phone. Save us some time.”

  He sat forward, elbows on his knees, face etched in determination. “But the kids look forward to it. It’s part of the reason we do the festival in the first place. It’s not just about the actual event, it’s about getting them involved in what leads up to it. It makes it theirs. We’re more like— overseers—than actual event planners.”

  A spot in her head started to throb. She really just wanted to get this project done. But dadgumit, he was right. And that irked her more than anything. She’d been looking at this whole thing as a “job” to complete instead of the community outreach it was.

  She took a deep breath and blew it out. “Okay, then how do you usually go about it? Surely they have to be supervised.”

  “They usually just meet here and walk around town in groups, then congregate back at about six or something. A few parents volunteer so each group has an adult. Last year they did it on a Friday, and Melissa had pizza here for them when they got back.”

  She opened her laptop and clicked on her calendar. “What about next Friday? Too short notice?”

  He shrugged. “Kids are flexible. It’s fine.”

  Rachel jotted down a few notes. “Okay, I’ll get with Serena on how they do the logistics of contacting and liability release. Now, last year the Emporium donated the food. I already talked to Reuben about it earlier this week, and he said they were good to do it again this year.”

  “Yeah, Maddie is all about helping as well. I know this year she’s a bit preoccupied, but Kyle usually gets involved too.”

  The mention of the now fifteen-year-old made her grin. The boy was getting too old. But he was a miracle himself. The first few years he’d live
d in Sandwich had been rough. Once Rachel and Maddie had reunited, she’d fielded more than one crying phone call from Maddie, asking for advice on how to handle the preteen. He still wasn’t perfect, no teenage boy with his history to overcome was. But he was definitely improving. Reuben was such a good influence on him.

  “Okay, I’ll let Maddie know about Friday night then, too.”

  They spent the next half hour talking about the rest of the details, bickering over a few differences in opinion, but overall, the conversation was amicable and even light-hearted at times. Not nearly the train wreck she’d feared.

  Rachel closed the binder, tucking her notes safely inside. “Well, I think that’s it for now. Will you be able to make it next Friday?”

  “Not sure. I have to go into work a few days next week, and I’m not sure if Friday will be one of them or not.”

  He stood, his overwhelming presence dwarfing her. She stood to even the playing field but still felt like a munchkin. “Well, I really hope you can make it.”

  Cameron started to turn toward the door, but then stilled and glanced back. “Wait a second. Are you saying… you want me to come?”

  Drat. No, she didn’t want him to come. Not at all. Having to stare at his handsome face on a Friday evening, who would want that? Not her.

  Her heart galloped, but she furrowed her brow, feigning not to understand the question. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he shrugged. “You haven’t exactly seemed eager to be around me or anything. Well, besides the whole kissing you senseless comment.”

  Heat scorched her cheeks and spiraled down her body. “I was being sarcastic, and you know it.”

  “Well, I was serious.”

  She took a step back, bumping into the book case behind her. A few books clambered to the floor. “Serious about what?”

  He inched closer, still on the other side of the room, but closing the gap instead of lengthening it. “About not kissing before the first date.”

  “It’s a good thing we’re not dating, then.”