Chapter 27
Hunter
Ishould’ve been inside, standing next to her while everyone clapped after she blew out the candles. Instead, I slipped out the back door, the cool night air hitting me hard enough to clear my head.
The stars were sharp overhead, the kind you only saw in Honeybrook Hollow, far from city lights. I shoved my hands in my pockets and leaned against the wall, listening to the faint hum of voices and music spilling through the bricks.
I’d caught her kiss earlier like a man who’d been holding his breath too long. The whole room saw it—Paige making a statement, right there in front of half the town. For them, it probably looked simple. Sweet. Maybe even inevitable.
But for me? It shook me down to the studs.
Because I wanted more.
Always more with her.
I tipped my head back, eyes closing as I thought about the pact—the one we’d made so long ago, laughing at the idea that we’d ever be this old.
Back then, she’d never meant it as a real proposal.
It was just words. A safety net. A way of saying: if the world lets us down, at least we’ll have each other.
But the older I got, the more those words dug in. Somewhere along the way, I stopped thinking of it as a joke. I wanted her. Wanted this. And not just because of the pact, not because I owed something to the past. Because of who she was now. Who she’d always been.
I had wanted to start something real with her. And I hadn’t been sure if she wanted the same—or if I was just the person holding her together while the rest of her life spun out of control. But now I knew, and I felt like my heart would soar out of my chest every time I let myself feel it.
The door creaked behind me, voices spilling out, then quiet again when it shut. My pulse kicked, wanting it to be her. But it wasn’t. Just someone sneaking out for a smoke.
I turned away, staring at the gravel lot instead of the glow spilling from the windows. My chest ached, tight with the kind of longing that doesn’t fade no matter how much you try to smother it. She kissed me in front of everyone. She wanted me close. Finally.
The crunch of gravel behind me was soft, but I knew it was her before I turned. Some part of me always knew when it was Paige.
“You hiding out here?” she asked, her voice carrying that teasing edge she used when she didn’t want me to hear the worry underneath.
I turned, and there she was—purple dress catching the light, her hair loose around her shoulders, cheeks flushed from the warmth and noise inside. She looked radiant. Like the center of the whole damn universe had decided to set up shop in Honeybrook Hollow and wear sequins for the occasion.
“Just needed some air,” I said. My voice came out rougher than I meant it to.
She stepped closer, arms wrapping around herself against the chill. “I thought maybe you were avoiding me.”
God. If she only knew.
“I’m not avoiding you,” I said, forcing the words past the knot in my throat. “Not when you’re everything I’ve always wanted.”
Her eyes searched mine, like she was looking for something I wasn’t sure I could hide. “Then what are you doing out here?”
“Trying to remember how to breathe.”
That startled a laugh out of her, soft and a little shaky. She shook her head, blond hair catching the light. “You and your lines.”
“Not a line,” I said, taking a step closer, my hands still jammed in my pockets so I wouldn’t do what I really wanted—pull her against me, then take her home so I could have her all to myself.
Instead, I tilted my head toward the tavern. “This party’s for you. You should be in there, soaking it up.”
“Maybe I’d rather be out here with you.”
She was so close now I could see the little flecks of gold in her gorgeous brown eyes, could feel the warmth of her in the cool night air. And I thought—if she asked me to, I’d stay with her forever.
But she didn’t. She just looked at me like she was working up the courage to say something big, then she let out a breath and slipped her hand into mine.
“Come back inside with me,” she said softly.
And just like that, the ache in my chest shifted—still there, still sharp, but threaded with hope.
I let out a low breath and turned our hands over, lacing my fingers through hers.
Her skin was soft against the rough calluses on my palms, and I couldn’t help rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand like I was memorizing the shape of her.
“Paige…” My voice cracked a little, so I swallowed hard and tried again. “You look beautiful tonight.”
She rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away. “You’re just saying that because I’m in sequins.”
“No,” I said firmly, tugging her a little closer.
The light painted her skin in gold, the purple of her dress shimmering every time she shifted.
“I’m saying it because it’s true. Sequins don’t matter.
You’d still knock the breath out of me if you walked out here in flannel and boots.
But tonight, you remind me of prom night.
Back in my truck. Purple and sparkly and wearing your heart on your sleeve. ”
That got me a soft laugh, one that warmed the cold night air between us.
She tilted her head up toward me. Her lips parted just a little, and then mine brushed hers—light, teasing.
The slightest touch, but enough to have my heart kicking against my ribs.
She made the faintest sound, and it undid me.
I deepened the kiss, sliding my free hand around her waist, feeling the soft fabric of her dress under my palm.
Her hand tightened in mine, the other sliding up to rest against my chest like she needed to feel my heartbeat.
When we finally pulled apart, both of us breathing harder than we should’ve been, she stayed close—her forehead nearly resting against mine.
“Hunter,” she whispered, like she didn’t know what else to say.
I wanted to tell her everything then. I wanted to say that I was hers and that I’d been hers since before I even knew what love was. But the words stuck, because I knew she wasn’t ready for that yet. And maybe I wasn’t either, at least not here.
So instead, I pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering there. “You don’t have to go back in yet if you don’t want to. We can stay here, just us, for a while.”
She let out a shaky breath, her fingers curling tighter into mine. “Maybe just a minute.”
And so we stayed—just a man in love and the woman who didn’t know it yet, holding on to each other under the glow of the tavern’s parking lot lights while the party rumbled on without us.
The night hummed softly, cicadas buzzing in the distance, the faint thrum of music spilling from the tavern door. For a long moment, neither of us moved. I didn’t want to. Being out here with her felt like the first breath after holding it too long.
Eventually, she let out a tiny laugh, nervous and sweet. “If we stay out here any longer, someone’s going to come looking for us. And Piper will make it weird.”
“She already makes it weird,” I said, smiling down at her. “That’s her job.”
Her eyes softened, and she squeezed my hand. Then, slowly, like she was still gathering courage, she stepped back and tugged me toward the door.
The warmth of the tavern wrapped around us as soon as we walked in—music from the jukebox, chatter from the crowd, the clink of glasses behind the bar.
Lark and Briar were laughing with Piper near the cake table, and Noah was leaning up against the jukebox with Spencer and Deacon, all three pretending they weren’t scoping out the crowd.
And then the heads turned. Not all at once, but enough that I noticed—the way people’s gazes slid toward us as Paige led me inside, still holding my hand.
Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t let go. Not right away. And the part of me that had been aching, the part that thought I’d lost her, settled just a little.
Spencer caught my eye from across the room, his grin bright and knowing. I smiled back. He could tell me ‘I told you so’ a million times, and I wouldn’t care.
Paige finally slipped her hand from mine, but not before brushing her thumb against my palm in a touch so quick no one else could have noticed.
“You hungry?” she asked, her voice light but her eyes saying something else entirely.
“For food?” I asked. “Or for you?”
Her lips parted, her breath catching before she rolled her eyes and swatted at my arm. “You’re bad.”
I grinned, leaning in close enough that only she could hear. “I’ll behave. For now.”
Her flush deepened, and she turned toward the bar, leaving me to follow in her wake. And damn if I didn’t feel like the luckiest man alive just to do that.