And it was a real hug—a warm, affectionate hug. I couldn’t even remember the last time my mom hugged me. Emotion crawled up my throat and I squelched it before I made a fool out of my myself.

“Thank you for letting me come up,” I said, happy that my voice didn’t crack.

“It’s no problem. We love having the company. Come on, let’s go meet the guy who thinks he’s my better half.” His mom dropped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “And dear God, I apologize ahead of time if he starts talking to you about how many eight point bucks he’s planning to hunt this weekend.”

As she led me toward the foyer, I glanced over to where Cam waited. Our gazes locked and that flipping motion occurred in my chest. A smile spread across his face, revealing the dimple in his left cheek.

Cam winked.

And my smile widened.

Chapter 18

Chapter 18 

Cam got those blue eyes from his father, his sense of humor… and ability to string together the most confusing rationale on this Earth, which was what probably made Richard Hamilton such a successful lawyer. Within a few short hours, he nearly had me agreeing to try deer jerky for the first time.

Almost.

If it weren’t for Cam continuously whispering “Bambi” in my ear every couple of minutes, I would’ve caved. But I couldn’t eat Bambi, no matter how succulent Mr. Hamilton made it sound.

We stayed in the spacious kitchen, at the scuffed oak table that was just the right size to seat four or five people, drinking the coffee Cam’s mother had made. My sides were actually aching from laughing so hard at Cam and his father. The two of them were identical. Wavy, uncontrollable hair, bright blue eyes that sparkled with pure mischief and the rare talent for turning every word around.

“Look, Dad, seriously, you’re embarrassing yourself here.”

His father glanced at me, brows raised in a fashion that was so like Cam. “Do I look embarrassed, Avery?”

Pressing my lips together, I shook my head.

Cam shot me a look that said I wasn’t helping. “You’re sitting here trying to convince me, mom, Avery, and baby Jesus, that Big Foot must exist because apes exist?”

“Yes!” the older Hamilton shouted. “It’s called evolution, son. Are they teaching you anything at college?”

Cam rolled his eyes. “No, Dad, they aren’t teaching me about Big Foot at college.”

“Actually,” I said, clearing my throat. “There is the whole missing link theory when it comes to primates.”

“I like this girl.” Mr. Hamilton winked at me.

“You’re not helping,” Cam grumbled.

“All I’m saying is once you’ve been out in the woods and heard the things I’ve heard,” his father continued. “You’d believe in Big Foot and the chupacabra.”

“Chupacabra?” Cam’s jaw hit the table. “Aw, come on, Dad.”