Page 25 of The Humbug Holiday

He pursed his lips. “Yeah. You’re still friends?”

“Yeah, but obviously we don’t talk about those days. It was a lifetime ago and—” I flattened my palm on the table and frowned. “Don’t mention Billy in one of your books.”

Cameron narrowed his gaze. “Why would I do that?”

“Because gathering information with the intent to pass it along is your currency.”

“I’m a writer, Joe, not a gossip,” he said coolly.

“Right. But if you were to mention two teens, one whose dad owned the local tree farm, getting it on…that wouldn’t be so great. It would be too easy for the town to connect the dots since everyone knows you’re here doing author shit and they know you’ve been talking to me. Get it?”

Cameron scowled. “Got it. Let’s get something straight…I don’t write young-adult books and my characters don’t ‘get it on,’ so chill out. I’m not here to bleed information from you, and I wouldn’t betray a confidence. That’s not me.”

I met his stern gaze as I took a bite of chili, but I couldn’t hold it. My face cracked and I couldn’t seem to contain my monster grin. Especially when the prominent crease between his brow cut a deep V, indicating I’d touched a nerve. I know, I know…I’d been told I had a warped sense of humor.

“All right. That’s good. But now I gotta ask…you don’t writeanysex? Like…none?”

His rigid posture probably meant he was still a bit peeved with me and might not respond, but his lips quirked with reluctant humor.

“Rarely. I’ve occasionally included an off-scene dalliance, but sex is gratuitous in a murder mystery.”

“I thought sex and violence made the world go ’round.”

“I think you mean love and peace,” he corrected drolly.

“What a crock,” I grumbled, tucking into my chili with more vigor than necessary.

Cameron kicked my shin playfully under the table. “You don’t believe in love and peace…and goodwill toward man?”

“No. They’re romantic notions…not reality.”

“Spoken like a true cynic,” he deadpanned. “I take it you’ve never been in love.”

“I thought I was once. I was wrong.”

He froze mid-bite, then set his spoon in his bowl and leaned both elbows on the table in a “tell me all your secrets” pose that was kind of funny coming from a guy pushing fifty.

“Who was he? Or she?”

“He,” I confirmed.

Cameron narrowed his eyes like a detective cracking a case. “Oh…your boss.”

Damn, he was good.

“Yeah, but that wasn’t love. That was me being a sucker,” I huffed.

He opened his mouth and hesitated as if trying to decide whether or not to press. “What happened?”

His expression was earnest and sincere, and for reasons unknown, I trusted him. But still…

“No one besides my shrink knows that story, Cam.”

“Huh. Do you realize that’s the first time you’ve said my name?”

I frowned. Was it?

“O-kay. What does that have to do with anything?”