The only thing they have in common is a property line!
Cam Maguire is in Blackberry
Bay to unravel a family secret.
Meredith Price has moved next door with her daughter.
He’s unattached.
She’s a widowed single mom.
He’s owned by a cat.
She’s definitely team canine.
All these neighbors have in common is a property line.
One they cross…over and over.
And Cam thought he knew what he wanted—until his family’s secret changes everything.
Meredith Price has moved next door with her daughter.
He’s unattached.
She’s a widowed single mom.
He’s owned by a cat.
She’s definitely team canine.
All these neighbors have in common is a property line.
One they cross…over and over.
And Cam thought he knew what he wanted—until his family’s secret changes everything.
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“So you’re staying for the summer,
you said? Where do you usually live?”
“New York City, actually.”
Her hazel eyes widened. “Wow. That’s
quite a change in pace.”
“It is, but I was ready to get away
for a while.” “What do you do in the city?”
“I
work for my dad,” he said, which wasn’t technically a lie but wasn’t entirely
accurate, either. “A lot of accounting and paperwork and boring stuff like
that.”
She was cute when she wrinkled her
nose. “I’m not a fan of boring math-related paperwork.”
A yelp from across the yard caught
her attention and she turned to see Elinor swipe at the white puff-ball. Sophie
was frowning and picked the dog up, turning her body so the cat couldn’t see
him any-more.
“Your cat appears to be bullying my
dog.”
“She’s not my cat. And you’re
embarrassing your dog by even making that claim right now.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “If you
don’t think cats can bully dogs, you don’t spend a lot of time on the
internet.”
“She just wants the dog to know who’s
boss, I guess.”
“It’s his yard,” she pointed out.
“She’s a cat.”
“Point taken.” A genuine smile lit up
her face and made her eyes crinkle. “They’ll get used to each other. And
speaking of that, now that I know you’re going to be my neighbor for a while, I
should probably introduce myself properly. I’m Meredith Price, and that’s
Sophie and Oscar.”
“Calvin Maguire,” he said, extending
his hand. “But everybody calls me Cam.”
As she shook his hand, he noted how
soft the skin was and had to resist rubbing his thumb over it.
She tilted her head as she smoothly
pulled her hand away from his. “How do you get Cam from Calvin?”
“My initials. Calvin Anthony
Maguire.” His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “The fourth.”
“Interesting.”
“It was a better alternative than
being Little Cal for my entire life.” He didn’t really want to open himself up
to more questions about his family since they were the last thing he wanted to
talk about. “Since Oscar’s from California, let me guess. Oscar de la Renta?”
She laughed. “Oscar the Grouch.”
“You’re kidding.” He looked at the
dog again, who looked like the kind they put on the packaging of fancy dog
food. “I don’t really see the resemblance, but maybe it’s a personality thing.”
“He’s actually named after Sophie’s
favorite book at the time, and trust me, we spent days explaining to her why we
couldn’t make his hair green.”
“He doesn’t bark a lot, does he?”
“I wouldn’t say he barks a lot.” She
glanced at the dog before giving him a sheepish look. “It’s more like a really
high-pitched yip.”
“That’ll be fun while I’m reading
over spread-sheets,” he said, picturing spending his summer being harassed by a
stubborn cat and a high-strung dog. “Maybe I should have packed my noise-
canceling headphones.”
She looked startled for a second and
then her eyes narrowed. “I have a child and a dog, so I guess you’ll just have
to figure out how to make it work.”
“Maybe a muzzle?” he asked, but he
wasn’t really serious. Yipping dogs weren’t his favorite, but he wasn’t a
total jerk.
She stared at him for a long moment
before giving him an arch look. “I don’t know if I can find one in your size,
but I can try.”
Cam chuckled, appreciating her
comeback, but she didn’t even crack a smile. Maybe she hadn’t been joking. And
maybe she’d thought he wasn’t, either.
“If you’ll excuse me, we just arrived
and I have a lot to do.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said as she
walked, and she held up her hand in what looked more like a dismissive gesture
than a wave.
That was fine. If she wanted to play
that game, she’d find out he didn’t really care that much. She and her yipping
dog could stay in her yard and he’d stay in his.
He had better things to do, anyway.
Like learning more about Carolina Archambault, and figuring out how to convince
her cat he was the boss.
About the Author
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Shannon Stacey lives with her husband and two sons in New England, where her two favorite activities are writing stories of happily ever after and off-roading with her friends and family. You can contact Shannon through her website, as well as sign up for her newsletter.
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