12. Hunter
Hunter
The sun crests over the horizon, spilling hazy light across the meadow. Wind rustles my hair, snaking down the back of my jacket, and I shiver.
“Goddamn it,” I say, rubbing my hands together and doing my best to control another yawn.
Luke chuckles. “I told you to bring a coat.”
I release an annoyed breath and pull my jacket tighter around my neck. You’d think I’d be used to this by now.
“Here.” Luke digs out a pair of gloves from his pocket and passes them over.
I quickly put them on and bury my hands back into my pockets. “I’m going to be honest,” I say, “I think I’m coming down with something. I probably won’t be able to make your elk hunt.”
“It’s not until December.” He catches me with a glare.
“Exactly.”
Luke rolls his eyes and turns his focus back on glassing the side of the hill. We’ve been scouting this area for months.
It’s only been a few days since Sutton and I cleaned out the house enough to allow Easton and his guys to begin demo.
I value sleep. Demo crews apparently do not, because they’re at my door with their drills and saws by six every morning.
Between my late-night shifts and their early morning ones, I’ve barely slept at all.
“What are you dressing up as?” Luke asks.
“Dressing up?” I rub my eyes, then pour myself a new mug of coffee from our thermos. “What are you talking about?”
“You forgot about Greer’s Halloween party, didn’t you?”
Shit. I splutter down a gulp of blazing hot coffee. Between work, the house, and Sutton, something was bound to fall through. “Um,” I say, “I’m not not saying I forgot, but . . .”
Luke shakes his head, groaning in annoyance. “But you forgot,” he says. “I swear, man, you’re more scatterbrained lately than normal. You okay?”
I sit in my camping chair, taking a moment to consider his question.
Am I okay?
In the grand scheme, I’m fine. Just stretched thin.
Two days ago, we had a break-in at one of the lake houses. Could have been squatters. Could have been something else. At this point, I’m not leaving anything up to coincidence, not with the narcotics case this close to cracking.
It’s not just work occupying my mind though. A certain redhead commands most of my thoughts. Although, she’s always done that.
Through the corner of my eye, I spy movement at the edge of the meadow, just at the tree line. With how the early morning shadows drape over the landscape, it’s hard to tell if it’s a deer or elk, even through the binoculars. I nudge Luke’s foot and signal to where I’ve spotted the animal.
He looks through his binoculars. “Deer,” he says. He steps away to refill his coffee. “Would you like me to repeat the question?”
“I’m okay,” I tell him.
“Bullshit.”
I pin him with a glare, but his all-knowing grin tells me it’s pointless to resist his prodding. That’s the thing about best friends—they often know you better than you know yourself.
“It’s not bullshit,” I say. “Just got a lot on my mind.”
“Like?” He steps back up to his binoculars and continues glassing the hillside.
“A lot going on with work, Sutton, the house.”
I don’t have to see his face to know he’s grinning again. “Nothing like getting promoted and being thrown right into the flames, huh?” he says.
“Tell me about it.”
“And the house, how’s that coming along?” He shifts his feet side to side, lowering the binoculars and shoving his hands in his pockets.
I roll my eyes. Bastard will never admit he’s freezing too.
“The house is going,” I say. “Sutton swore it’d be simple. But somehow, ripping out the old cabinets turned into refinishing all the wood floors.”
“Remind me never to buy a fixer-upper,” he says.
“I swear to god, though, if I don’t get some decent sleep—”
“You’re staying in the house?”
“For now, yes. It all happened so fast; I haven’t had time to find a temporary place.”
“Wait,” Luke says, “why don’t you stay at my house? There’s plenty of space, and it’s close to your station.”
“I’ll think about it.” There’s no way in hell I’m doing that. Not with him and Greer being up all hours of the night. I’m going to give them their privacy.
“Good.” He steps back and sits in the chair next to me, crossing his ankle over his thigh.
“You know”—he clears his throat—“I meant what I said the other night. Thank you for being there for Sutton. Means a lot.”
“Of course. We’re family.”
“Any new developments in the saga of Sutton and Hunter?” His question feels like he’s jamming a hot poker between my ribs to get to my heart.
“I heard from Chris that she joined a dating app.”
“Oh.” His brow creases. “That’s very un-Sutton.”
“Turns out it was Navy, but I didn’t know that, so I—”
“Confessed to loving her for—oh, I don’t know—the last decade or so?” Luke’s never been one to mince words.
“Not exactly like that. But yes.”
“Fucking finally.”
I snort. “Shut up, man.”
“Hunter,” he says, “I’ve known you’ve had feelings for Sutton since college.”
“Is it that obvious?”
He nods.
“Sutton knows how I feel now, but, shit, it’s like two steps forward and one step back with her.”
“Sounds like her, but”—he raises an eyebrow—“you can’t let her overthink this. You know she’ll find some reason to shut you out and stop this before she ever gives it a chance to start.”
“Sometimes, it seems like maybe we’re getting somewhere.” Last week felt like progress until I mentioned the rumor mill, leaving me with no choice but to tell her she had to decide.
“Hunter,” Luke says, suddenly serious. “What did you tell me when it was Greer?”
I shrug.
Luke supplies the answer for me. “If you love her, talk to her. Don’t let this shit fester.”
“That sounds like me.” I lean back, clasping my hands behind my head. I could fall asleep right here.
“You have to be upfront with her, no beating around the bush,” he says. “And for the love of god, don’t give her time to overthink things.”
“You’re right,” I say. “I’ll keep talking to her.”
Just after noon, I pack it in and call it day. I need sleep.
As I’m pulling down my driveway, I pass Easton on his way out. He slows to a stop and rolls down his window. “Hey, Hunter,” he says. “The guys just finished sanding the floors. It’s a bit of a mess.”
“It’s been a mess since the moment you started.”
“Yeah, but it’s worse than usual. The vacuum on the sander broke. I’m heading to town for a replacement.”
I groan internally. “You’re telling me my house will be covered in sawdust for the foreseeable future?”
“Pretty much,” he says. “Good news is cabinets are getting delivered at the end of the week and installation is quick. We’re powering through to get the floors done before then.”
I nod, already counting the hours I’m not going to sleep.
“You know,” Easton says, “I’m not sure if you’ve got somewhere else to stay, but it might be worth looking into.”
“Sounds like I should,” I say.
We say our goodbyes, and I head up to the house to pack a bag. Luke meant well, but there’s still no way I’m crashing at his place. He and Greer are in the honeymoon phase of their relationship and don’t need a roommate cramping their style.
There’s only one place that makes sense.
I fire a text to Mrs. Bradley. She answers immediately.
Mrs. Bradley: Of course, Hunter. You know you’re always welcome. Plus, I’m sure Sutton will love the company.
Me: I promise not to get in the way.
Mrs. Bradley: You won’t be in the way. My sister fell and broke her leg. I’m headed to Buckeye tomorrow to help her out. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone. There will be plenty of space.
Me: I’m sorry to hear that. Thanks again, Mrs. B.
I stare at the screen for a second longer than I should. A smile spreads across my face.
I’m done giving Sutton room to run.
Steaks sizzle on the grill, the smell making my stomach grumble. I haven’t eaten since this morning, when I had a breakfast burrito warmed on a truck engine.
I spent most of the afternoon at the house, trying to make heads or tails of the work being done. The floors were indeed sanded down to perfection and ready for a new coat of stain, but every surface and corner was covered in sawdust.
Around three, I arrived at Sutton’s house, then promptly passed out in Luke’s old room for three hours. His room being directly across the hall from Sutton’s is merely a perk.
Suddenly, my phone pings with a text from her.
Sutton: Want to meet up for dinner?
Sutton: I haven’t eaten since a protein bar at nine.
Sutton: And my hangriness is kicking in.
Sutton: We could go to Grill House?
I swear, she never remembers to eat. At least now I can make sure she eats dinner. Granted, I haven’t told her about my new sleeping arrangements.
Me: I’m actually cooking dinner already.
Sutton: Oh, okay.
With only two words, I can picture her look of dejection.
Sutton: Well, have a good night.
Another smile spreads across my face. She has no idea.
I toss my phone on the patio table and readjust my hoodie, pulling my beanie down over my ears. It might be cold, but that’s never stopped me from grilling. I’m pretty sure Adam has a photo of me grilling burgers with a snowsuit on in two feet of snow.
I’m just finishing the steaks when Sutton’s muffled voice calls from the garage entry. “Hunter?”
I turn and spot her through the French doors.
She walks into the kitchen and tosses her bag onto a chair at the island.
Even in the cold, she looks like she’s walked off the pages of Vogue, sporting brown velvet pants, a cream sweater, and stilettos.
Her hair is pulled back, but a few loose pieces curl around her ears.
I open the door and yell, “I’m out here.”
When she looks up and meets my gaze, my heart skips a beat at the smile she gives me.
“What are you doing here?” She toes her heels off and picks them up.
“I texted you. I told you I was already cooking dinner.”
“I think you left out a key piece of information.”
“Did I?”
Sutton rolls her eyes, but I can tell she is happy to see me.
“Your mom said I could stay here until the house is more habitable.” I let the door close, then remove the steaks from the grill. When I head inside, she’s pouring a glass of water.
“Like stay stay here?”