Chapter 16 Hunter
Hunter
Ididn’t sleep much.
Not because I was restless in a bad way—hell no. I’d been replaying last night on a loop until the sky outside my window started going pale.
Paige.
On the pool table.
In my arms.
Looking at me like she’d finally decided to stop running from whatever this was.
I’d gone home after following her back, making sure her porch light came on and that she made it inside. She’d glanced over her shoulder before shutting the door—one last look—like she was trying to say something without saying it.
I’d wanted to knock again. To ask her to let me in, not just into the house, but into the rest of her night, her morning, her body, her life. But I’d told myself to give her space.
She’d been through enough people crowding her, needing something from her. She didn’t need me doing it, too.
But the truth was, I wasn’t sure what “ready” even meant anymore.
My chest was still tight with everything unspoken, everything hanging in the air after last night.
I’d spent so long keeping my distance, telling myself I was protecting her.
Now, the line between what I wanted and what I thought was best was blurring fast, and it scared the hell out of me.
I’d woken up with the smell of her shampoo in my head and the imagined feel of her hands clutching my shoulders like she was afraid I’d disappear.
I pulled on a T-shirt and jeans, made coffee, and tried to focus on something practical. But the thing about mornings in Honeybrook Hollow was, you couldn’t avoid someone wanting to tell you the news of the day—especially when the news was about you.
By the time I stopped at the Pennywhistle Pantry for a breakfast sandwich, two different people had given me that grin—the one people use when they know something they shouldn’t.
And by the time I paid my tab, Nancy behind the counter was smirking like she was ready to start selling tickets to our next parking lot kiss.
I took my food to go.
The worst part wasn’t the gossip—it was knowing that when it reached Eli, he’d find a way to twist it into ammo for the custody fight. He’d use anything. And even though Paige had the truth and a good lawyer on her side, that didn’t mean the fight wouldn’t gut her and the kids.
Back at the shop, Dad was leaning on the counter, flipping through a parts catalog. He didn’t look up when he said, “Heard you were at the tavern late last night.”
I froze mid-step. “From who?”
He gave me a slow, knowing look over the top of his glasses. “Hunter, this is Honeybrook Hollow. From everyone. These people monitor comings and goings like they’re getting paid to do it.”
I groaned, dropping the sandwich bag on the counter. “That didn’t take long.”
“Nothing does around here.” His eyes softened. “You ready for what comes with that?”
“I’ve been ready for twenty years,” I said without thinking.
And there it was. The truth, out loud.
I picked up the sandwich and headed for the bay doors before he could press me on it.
Because I already knew that whatever came next, I would never let her face it alone.
By the time the day wound down, I’d swapped out brake pads on two Fords, wrestled with a busted alternator, and still hadn’t shaken the itch to see her.
Not just because of last night. Not just because of the gossip. Because I knew her, and I knew the way she carried things. She’d tuck the worry behind her smile until it got too heavy to hide.
The sun was dipping low, painting the streets in that burnished autumn light that made Honeybrook Hollow look like a postcard. I could see the purple glow of the Twilight Tavern’s neon from half a block away.
Her car was parked out front, but the lot was empty otherwise. I didn’t like that.
I pushed the door open, and the warm, familiar scent of beer, fried food, and citrus cleaner rolled over me. Music played low from the jukebox. She was behind the bar, sleeves shoved up, hair twisted into a messy knot. She was stuffing napkins into holders as if they had personally offended her.
“Hey,” I said.
She looked up, startled for half a second before her face softened. “Hey, yourself. You’re early. I open in an hour. I’m just setting up.”
“I know. Figured I’d help you get ready.”
Her brows lifted, but there was a tiny smile tugging at her mouth. “That’s what you call it? Sure you’re not here to check up on me?”
“Yeah,” I said, stepping behind the bar like I belonged there. “Wiping things down. Taste-testing the beer. Making sure the jukebox doesn’t get stuck on one of those sad eighties country songs.”
She shook her head, but I saw it—the way her shoulders eased just a fraction.
“Everything okay?” I asked. I wanted to hold her. I wanted her to run to me instead of trying to play it cool as if she didn’t need me when I knew she did.
“I heard from Piper. And then…” She trailed off, flicking the rag over a stubborn spot on the bar. “Let’s just say the town is talking.”
I leaned a hip against the counter. “About us.”
She blew out a breath. “About the neon parking lot spectacle, you being here every night, among other things, yeah. Eliza texted me, too. The Coffee Cabin is like Honeybrook Hollow’s gossip hub or something.
Everyone who stopped by told her something different about us.
It’s freaking ridiculous, and half of it isn’t even true. ”
“Let them talk,” I said. “It’s not their business.”
“It’s Eli’s business if he decides to make it part of his case.”
That steel-edged tone in her voice had me wanting to go find him right now. But instead, I slid her bottle of water in front of her and popped the cap. “Drink. Hydrate. You’re running on caffeine and probably rage.”
She smirked. “Bossy.”
“Caring,” I corrected.
For a moment, we just stood there—me on one side of the bar, her on the other—long enough for the quiet to settle around us like something solid.
“You don’t have to be here this early,” she said, softer now.
“I do.”
Something flickered in her eyes. Not quite fear, not quite relief. “Careful,” she said. “You keep this up and people will start thinking we’re serious.”
I didn’t flinch. “I am serious.”
The jukebox shifted to a slower song, low and bluesy, and neither of us moved for a beat. Then her mouth curved in a way that told me she was fighting herself again.
“Hunter—”
“I know,” I said quietly. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m just… here. Please let me be.”
And I would be here. Tonight. Tomorrow. However long it took.
She stared at me for a long second, then glanced toward the front windows like she was checking for paparazzi. “Come with me,” she said quietly.
I followed her through the narrow hall past the jukebox hum, into the back room with the pool table. Back here, the streetlights couldn’t reach us, and neither could any wandering eyes.
She set the rag aside on the rail and leaned her hip against the table, crossing her arms. “I just didn’t want to have this conversation in front of the windows.”
I stayed a few feet away, giving her room. “What conversation?”
Her gaze flicked up to mine, cautious but clear. “That last night wasn’t a mistake.”
The words were simple, but they landed hard in my chest. “I didn’t think it was.”
“I just…” She exhaled, uncrossing her arms like she was letting herself unclench.
“I need you to understand that I’m not quite ready for this to be public.
I’m barely ready for it to be real. And I can’t have Eli twisting it into something ugly in front of the kids.
I want this to be good. I want this to be joyful and dreamy and romantic, and I’m afraid he’ll try to ruin it with his bullshit.
I don’t want people commenting on my love life like I’m doing something scandalous.
This is not sordid. This isn’t some cheap fling.
It’s you, Hunter. You mean something to me, and I don’t want town gossip cheapening what we have. ”
I nodded once. “Then we keep it between us. For now. On your terms.”
That earned me the smallest, most grateful smile. “Even if we deny everything, or at least don’t confirm it, I don’t want to stop, though.”
“Good,” I said, stepping closer until I could rest my hands lightly on the edge of the table beside her. “Because I don’t, either.”
Her fingers brushed mine, tentative but warm. “Last night was exactly what I needed. But it’s not just about needing it, you know, sex. It’s you that I need. I want you. Only you and I don’t want anyone else, okay?”
“I know,” I said, my voice low. “I feel the same way. You’re it for me, Paige. I’m in this.”
She hesitated, her thumb still moving over my knuckles. “But, promise me, if you ever get tired of being with me—if you want out—I need you to tell me. Tell me before anyone else finds out, okay?” Her voice was steady, but the fear in it was unmistakable.
I caught the flicker of pain in her eyes, and suddenly it made sense.
Eli had left scars—he’d cheated, lied, and made her feel small, and I could see now just how deep that damage ran.
She shook her head, looking down. “I don’t want to ruin this with doubts.
I’m sorry. I know I’m scared, but I have to be honest with you. ”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I told her. “Not if things get messy. Not if Eli’s shadow hangs over us.
Not if the whole damn town tries to make a show out of it.
I’m here.” I slid my hand over hers, letting my thumb rest over the gentle pulse at her wrist. “Paige,” I murmured, my voice steady and soft, “I’m not going anywhere.
I promise you, no rumor or sideways glance could ever change how I feel about you.
” The ache that lingered in her eyes began to soften, and I wanted nothing more than to guard this fragile hope between us.
“You’re safe with me—always. I want to be the person you can trust, no matter what. ”
She looked up at me, and for a moment, the uncertainty faded, replaced by something tender and genuine. I drew her closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Let’s make this ours. Just you and me, as it should be—no distractions, no one else’s opinions. I want to be with only you, I swear.”
Her throat bobbed like she was swallowing words she didn’t quite trust herself to say. Then she reached for my hand—no hesitation this time—and laced our fingers together. “I want you too. Scared or not, I’m in this.”
I let her hold on as long as she needed.
Her hand stayed in mine, thumb brushing over the back of my knuckles like she was memorizing the shape of me.
I shifted closer, close enough that our knees bumped again. “You sure you want me this close right now?”
Her mouth tipped up at one corner. “If I didn’t, you’d already know.”
I gave her a slow smile, then set my free hand on her hip—just enough weight for her to feel it, to give her time to pull back if she wanted. She didn’t. Instead, she tilted toward me, her breath warm when it hit my throat.
“Last night,” she said softly, “I wanted to invite you home with me, but I was afraid if I didn’t stop, I’d fall too hard. End up moving too fast. I don’t know.”
I slid my hand up her side, fingers resting just under the curve of her ribcage. “And now?”
Her answer was a whisper against my lips. “Now I think it’s too late. I already did.”
That broke something in me. I kissed her—slow at first, just enough pressure to feel the shape of her mouth against mine. She sighed into it, her body leaning into mine like she’d been waiting all day for this.
When I deepened the kiss, her arms looped around my neck, drawing me closer. The warmth of her pressed into my chest, the faint taste of her lip balm on my tongue—it was too much and not enough all at once.
“Hunter,” she breathed, and I felt it all the way through me.
“Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“I won’t,” she said, voice low but sure. “This is all I want.”
My hand skimmed her waist, her lower back, memorizing curves I’d only let myself imagine for years. Her fingers tangled in my hair, and she kissed me like she’d decided there was nothing else worth thinking about.
I broke just enough distance to meet her eyes. “Do you want—”
“Yes.” The word left her so fast it made my pulse kick harder. “Condom?” she asked. Her lips curved, flushed, and a little breathless.
“Yeah, I put another one in my wallet last night. Wishful thinking…” I kissed her again—harder this time—before forcing myself to pull back just enough to move us toward the little side office. She went ahead of me, tugging my hand, her laugh low and nervous but certain.
The door clicked shut behind us, muting the jukebox and the hum of the empty bar. In here, it felt like the whole world had shrunk down to her and me, the heat between us sharp and alive.
I reached for her again, backing her up against the desk, and when she pulled me down for another kiss, it was all instinct and years of wanting finally colliding in one perfect, dangerous moment.