I shake my head. “You don’t tell someone you love them out of boredom, Lorelai.”

Her expression darkens. “Drake Colter does.”

I leave it at that. I know from experience that we could go round and round all day and night, but Lorelai is a locked-down fortress when it comes to her ex.

I find it interesting that he’s telling her he loves her. I wonder if he was even drunk. First, the “Jonesin’” song, which is so obviously about my best friend, and now this. If I didn’t know any better, I would think maybe Drake Colter was trying to make amends.

“Knock, knock!” Maren walks in, holding donuts. “I come bearing gifts.”

“Excellent.” I reach for one and she pulls back.

“Ah, ah, ah, not so fast. First. Did you and Cameron Riggs have sex?”

“We did.”

“She lost count,” Lorelai says, reaching for an apple fritter.

“No!” Maren gasps.

I pull out the Boston cream and take a huge bite. “Oh, yes.”

19

CAMERON

GIVE ME LOVE

On Monday, we’re back to work on the Caroline Street house, as if nothing has changed, because, on camera, nothing has changed. We’re still here to do our job and restore this place before (hopefully) selling it, regardless of the fate of the pilot. But off camera, I haven’t had my mouth on Shelby since yesterday morning and I’m crawling out of my skin with want.

This is kind of inconvenient when working alongside her dad, who also happens to be a man I respect—maybe more than anyone on the planet.

Suffice it to say, it’s been a long day. I’m not positive Daniel hasn’t picked up on something between Shelby and me. It’s five o’clock, though, and Daniel is nothing if not punctual, always kicking the crew out first and following right behind, presumably to not think about this place for the rest of the night. Daniel has the healthiest work-life balance of anyone I’ve ever met.

I’m not there yet. The thing is, the film crew leaves at five, too, or sooner, so that means if I want to work without the eyes of the world studying my every move, I have to do it at night.

If I’m making mistakes, I’m doing it alone, healthy work habits be damned.

“Can I ask you about something upstairs, Cam?”

Well, mostly alone. Shelby’s working late tonight, too.

“Be there in a minute,” I say, casually, pretending to smooth some drywall as I wait for her dad to pack up. He seems to be taking an inordinately long time this afternoon. Or maybe I’m just more than ready to be alone with the woman I love.

Both, I figure.

“Sand that any more and you’ll be replacing that section,” Daniel observes dryly from over my shoulder.

“There was a rough patch.”