Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JACK
“We are all fools in love.”
~ Charlotte Lucas
Making love to Hawk Sunday was the best decision I’d ever made.
Nothing had changed, but everything had.
As I stood at the back of the kitchen at Panini Jack’s a full week later, ostensibly mixing up a batch of sourdough but in reality playing a video montage in my mind of Hawk’s smile, his little sighs, and the way his brown eyes remained soft and dreamy for long moments after I kissed him that first night we were together, I felt…
settled. Secure in a way I hadn’t expected to.
I felt good.
So good that it hardly mattered that Hawk and I had been like ships in the night this week, with Hawk spending most of his time up on Fogg Peak continuing his protest campout and me trying to keep up with the influx of Evola contractors and protest-tourists invading the town.
So good that when Crys had caught me singing “I’m Only Me When I’m With You,” one of Hawk’s favorite Taylor Swift songs, while I cooked earlier this morning, I’d laughed along with her teasing.
So good that even though Hawk and I still had a few things to sort out—namely, our conflicting opinions about the resort; my conflicting desires to take things slow for his sake and to have him officially move into my house yesterday; and one giant, bearded human conflict who hadn’t answered my text earlier this week and would probably be showing up to the diner soon to challenge me to a duel over his brother’s virtue—I could safely say that I was a relationship convert, and I was proud of myself for overcoming my fear so we could get to this place.
And that was, of course, when things started to get weird.
“Tom.” Marla, one of my part-time waitresses, sidled up to my line cook, eyes brimming with excitement. “Guess who’s got a date tonight.”
Tom sucked his front tooth thoughtfully. “Better not be you, baby. I know you’re angry I made that comment about your sister, but cheating is cheating.”
“Hush. Not me.” Marla slapped Tom’s arm playfully.
“I mean the Hollow’s favorite romance-reading, mountain-saving activist. Hawk Sunday,” she explained when Tom continued to look at her blankly.
“He’s got a date with Simon from Evola. Enemies to lovers, just like in one of his boo—what do you mean shush? I heard from…”
Tom whispered something urgent that made her dart a guilty look in my direction.
“Ohhh. Wait, really? I mean. Ha. Can you believe the gossip in this town!” Marla said loudly.
“And it’s usually super wrong.” She coughed.
“I’m just gonna go do… things. Work things.
Out there.” She motioned back toward the dining room. “Okay, then.”
“It’s a business dinner,” I told Tom. “Not a date.”
“Sure, boss. Just a misunderstanding.” Tom gave me a pitying look. “No matter what everyone in town is saying.”
Everyone in town? “Don’t be silly,” I said, not sure if I was talking to him or myself. “Hawk and I are together. Everyone saw us at Pye Day.”
“Well, yeah, but Hawk’s still protesting, and you’re still not protesting,” Tom said reasonably.
“And Hawk’s only been back to work once since he, you know, gave his cherry speech and not at all since you two were holding hands that day.
And Hawk and Simon are awful friendly. Makes sense how people would get confused, no? ”
I scowled. No, it definitely did not. But I felt like arguing only made my case look weaker, so I clamped my lips together and mixed up a second batch of bread dough to keep myself from dwelling on this.
But after a third person mentioned Hawk’s meeting in front of me—Milton Perry, that time, joking about how my “new beau” was “already stepping out on ya, eh, Jack?”—I could no longer deny that I was dwelling. I was dwelling hard.
It was not a date. Hawk and I had exchanged I love yous. We were together in every possible way: signed, sealed, and devirginated.
Even though he’d spent most of the week on the mountain, we’d managed to spend two of those nights together: one, where we’d been way too exhausted to do anything but make out, slow and lazy, before falling asleep in my bed, and another where I’d snuck up the mountain to join him in his tent…
only to find that a whole herd of Mini Nature Scouts and their parents had shown up to pitch their own tents and join in the protest, giving us zero privacy to revisit our last sleeping bag adventure.
And maybe those hadn’t been particularly fulfilling, but that was okay because Hawk and I had called and texted constantly, too—even more than usual.
He’d ended every text conversation with a bat emoji, because the northern long-eared bat had become our symbol for delayed gratification, and it was a known fact that couples didn’t have inside-joke emojis unless their relationship was in a good, solid place.
So, I was not going to descend into jealousy over this foolishness… But I mixed up a third batch of bread dough anyway and began kneading it a little too firmly.
Okay, fine, so I was a tiny bit jealous, but only because irrational feelings were irrational and this was my very first foray into a serious relationship. What I was not going to do was make my irrational reaction Hawk’s problem.
I wasn’t going to tell him what people around town were saying or speculate about how they’d even heard that this “date” with Simon would be happening. Nope.
I was not going to text Hawk in the middle of his meeting with the Environmental Committee to ask him to clarify the situation just to gain some reassurance. Pfft.
And I was sure as heck not gonna sit around dwelling on the fact that Simon was a good-looking man closer to Hawk’s age, who shared Hawk’s interests, and who Hawk had once called “cute.” Definitely, definitely not.
I was going to be a mature adult, I thought as I pummeled the dough into submission.
Mature. As. Fuck.
But when Betty Ann Wolff walked in later in the afternoon, talking at full volume on her cell phone as she stood at the check-in counter waiting for her to-go lunch order, I decided that maturity didn’t mean a man couldn’t listen in when the town’s second-biggest gossip began discussing his boyfriend.
“I’m telling you, Helena, I just talked to him at the Environmental Committee meeting, and our precious Hawk has gone soft.
Mmmhmm. He actually said to me, point-blank, ‘Well, Ms. Wolff, maybe we need to compromise. Maybe Evola could do some good things for this town. I bet Ms. Fortnum would agree.’ Can you imagine?
Plus, he’s going out to dinner with that viper, and we all know what dinner is code for. ”
She paused for a long moment while I ducked down behind the counter—only because the kids’ coloring menus needed to be organized and not at all so I could listen without skulking.
Hawk was considering a compromise? Right now, when the town was almost guaranteed to give him the “no” vote he’d been looking for?
Betty Ann sighed. “You’re right. I s’pose Hawk’s found his backbone about some things.
And I’ll grant you, he’s doing good stuff with his Insta-what’s-it.
A little birdie told me that reporter, Genevieve York-Muller, might even come back to do a news feature on him.
But you gotta remember, Simon’s got more charm than any three men should have.
It’s like a dense fog of smarm settled over your inn since that guy came to town, and…
yup. Hawk’s too sweet for his own good. Not to mention, he boned Jack Wyatt last week, and that’s enough to turn anyone’s brain to banana pudding. ”
I scowled at her through the counter.
“Oh, yeah. Hawk can’t keep a secret like some of us can,” she said fondly.
“That’s why it was a smart move on your part not to fill him in on what the Hookers are doing.
Might as well tattoo the words ‘I have a cunning plan!’ right on his expressive little face.
I mean, look at the heart-eyes he’s been giving Jack all these years.
” She chuckled. “Jack never seemed to notice Hawk was in love with him, but not for Hawk’s lack of trying.
It’s amazing Hawk never got fed up and ditched him. ”
Wait, what?
What were Betty Ann, Helena, and the Hookers up to?
How ironic was it that Betty Ann was having a conversation about her excellent secret-keeping, at full volume, in a public place, with no regard to who might be listening?
And, most mind-blowing of all… Hawk had been in love with me for “all these years”?
He’d said he’d had feelings for me for a while, but Jesus. Here I was, needing reassurance after dealing with a single morning of Little Pippin Hollow gossip, and Hawk had held on to his feelings for years, never knowing if they’d be returned.
My man was even stronger than I’d realized, I thought with a rush of affection that swept away any lingering jealousy. And I was going to do everything in my power to deserve the love he’d given me.
“True story, bro,” Ms. Wolff went on, almost echoing my thoughts.
“So did you and the others go full-on Crochet Commando? Excellent.” She accepted a bag of food Katey held out to her.
“I heard Hawk and Simon are meeting at the Stag and Crowne later, so I… Uh-huh. Prime date location,” she agreed grimly.
“Oh, now that’s an idea, isn’t it? Tell Laura I agree with her.
I wouldn’t put it past him to be spreading rumors just for show.
Mmm. Poor Hawk. Someone needs to keep eyes on the place, just to see if Simon tries to… ”
The closing door cut her off as she walked outside, and I immediately popped up from the desk.
Simon tries to… what? What was Simon going to try to do?
And what the fuck was a Crochet Commando?
Crys brushed past me on her way to the credit card machine to run someone’s card, trying to hide her to-go cup behind the bill folder as if I didn’t know she single-handedly emptied my soda coffers daily. “Nothing to see here, boss.”