Chapter 21
The bell above the bakery door jingles, but I’m finishing writing down an online order. “I’ll be right with you,” I call out.
“Wow, Liv, you look like crap.”
I drop my pen and squeal because Cory is standing on the other side of the counter.
My brother is no longer the little boy playing video games in the background of a phone call with my mom or throwing sand at me on the beach.
He’s well over six feet tall, with a teasing grin, glinting blue eyes that match my own, an ASU sweatshirt, and worn-out, faded jeans.
He leans over to hug me across the glass.
Sometimes, it still blows me away that my little brothers are both grown-up men now.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be studying for finals?” I ask.
Cory’s in his senior year of his undergraduate, getting a degree in biology with plans to continue on to PT school to work with athletes.
“Yep, and I needed some brain fuel. I thought I’d come by, visit my favorite sister, and snag a few treats for my study group.”
“Your only sister,” I point out, and he shrugs.
“True. If Cameron had been a girl, you would have been second place, for sure.”
“That’s okay, he’s my favorite too.”
“Ouch.” Cory traces an X over his heart.
Oh, it feels so good to have him standing here in the bakery, teasing me like the old days when he and Cameron were both in high school and would come every day after school to get cookies or other treats for their friends and teams. Sometimes the boys drive me crazy, but mostly, I just miss having them around all the time, big and loud, sometimes stinky, but so funny and entertaining.
“What are you really doing here? You could have bought a snickers bar at a gas station much closer to campus if you were only craving sugar.”
“Maybe I wanted to see you.” Cory lifts one shoulder, deceptively nonchalant. “It’s been a while. And I never did get to visit you in the hospital this time.”
Warmth fills the broken places inside of me. I walk around the counter and wrap my arms around my brother. He squeezes me tight and exhales deep and slow.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I say, muffled by his hoodie. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, sis.”
I let go to back up and study his face, taking in the shadows under his winter-sky-blue eyes. “You’re not getting enough sleep.”
“I have finals in a few weeks, and Farmor’s still in the hospital. Of course I’m not getting enough sleep.” He laughs off my concern. “That’s why I need sugar. And lots of it.”
“Do I hear my Cory?” Mom bursts out of the kitchen with her arms already open. We both had to come in today because we got a fairly large special order, and we needed the money too much to say no.
“Mom, you look as young and gorgeous as ever!” Cory dwarfs her. Neither of us is small—we’re tall women. Cory is truly that big.
“You and that silver tongue are going to get in trouble someday.” Mom is faintly blushing when she swats at him.
“Who says I haven’t already?” Cory replies.
“I don’t doubt that,” I murmur, and he raises his eyebrows.
“I made a fresh batch of semlor buns a few minutes ago for a special order, but there are a few extras. Do you want some?” Mom asks as she takes Cory’s arm and drags him into the kitchen.
“You know I never turn down your semlor buns,” I hear him say as I turn back to the form I was filling out when he came in, before I forget the final few details I was writing down.
I’m sliding it into the folder for future orders when the bell jingles again. Still buzzing with the delight of Cory’s surprise visit, I call out, “Welcome in!” before glancing up.
“You’re unexpectedly chipper.”
I straighten and fight back a blush when my gaze meets Hunter’s across the counter this time.
“Here I thought I was coming to try and cheer you up by taking you to lunch. Maybe even willingly playing another riveting game of confessions of a mess.”
He has one hand shoved into the pocket of his designer slacks.
Today he wears a light-blue button-down, the sleeves rolled up to expose his tanned forearms, and a matching tie with black stripes, his brown, wavy hair lightly styled away from his face but still partly covering his reconstructed ear.
I can see the green glinting in his hazel eyes even from behind the counter.
He looks urbane and ridiculously handsome and a little nervous.
My heart does a lurch-flop in my chest, as though it isn’t quite sure how to beat normally in his presence.
“My brother is here,” I say, half warning, half announcement.
“You have a brother?” Hunter is surprised.
“Two, actually.”
“Oh . . . that’s great news.” He swallows. “Two protective brothers to deal with. Excellent.”
My face warms at Hunter’s comment, but I choose not to address it. “You came to take me to lunch?”
A small flicker of a smile touches the corners of his full lips. “I did.”
“Isn’t that like . . . a date?”
“In some social circles, one might call it that.”
“What about in your social circles?”
“Yes, Liv, I’m asking you on a date.”
My heart remembers how to beat—but with alarming speed, pounding in my chest. True, he told me he wanted to ask me out.
But having him say he’s thought about it and actually doing it are two different things.
“That seems to break your rules about no relationships of any kind pretty significantly,” I say, trying to buy myself time to sort out the jumble of my feelings.
“They’re more what you’d call guidelines than actual rules.” His mouth twitches.
Asking me out on a date and using a Pirates quote to tease me, to boot. He’s going for the jugular. “Parlay?”
“Is that a yes?”
I’m out of stalls. And the truth I haven’t wanted to admit to myself is yes, I want to go out with him. “I have to ask my boss if I can take a longer lunch break.”
Hunter smiles fully now. “Good luck. I hear she’s got a real iron fist.”
Before I can respond, the kitchen door swings open, and Cory walks back into the bakery, carrying a stack of pastry boxes.
“Livarooni, you’ve got to tell Mom to stop—” He halts when he notices Hunter, his gaze going between both of us as if he somehow senses this is not a normal customer interaction he’s interrupted.
His eyes widen slightly when he takes in Hunter’s scars, but Hunter doesn’t look away, holding my brother’s gaze in some sort of unspoken challenge.
“Cory, this is Hunter. He’s Lou’s cousin. Hunter, this is my brother Cory.”
The two men nod at each other. Cory’s body language is instantly different, no longer loose and easygoing; he seems even bigger without having done anything except fully straighten, as if he’s somehow fluffed out imaginary feathers in warning.
“Nice to meet you.” Hunter sticks his hand out, and Cory has to shuffle the boxes in his arms to take it, shaking it firmly.
“Likewise.” Cory’s eyes flicker back to me. “So, you two are . . . friends?”
“Messy mates, according to her,” Hunter says with an offhand shrug.
“What does that even mean?” The look Cory gives me is baffled—and slightly concerned.
“He’s living in our duplex. But only until he finds his own place because he just moved here,” I quickly add when Cory’s eyes widen again. “And he’s been through some hard stuff, too, so I dubbed us ‘messy mates’ because it was more accurate than friends or . . . anything else.”
Cory purses his lips together with a shake of his head, then announces, “You’re really weird, you know that, right?”
“That’s why I’m your favorite sister.”
“My only sister,” he says with a gleam in his eye.
“Same thing.”
“Well, I wish I could stay and chat longer and grill you with lots of overprotective brotherly questions”—Cory smirks at Hunter, whose eyebrows lift—“but alas, the endless hours of study call to me, and I must go if I wish to pass my classes and not flunk out of my degree.”
“Nice to meet you,” Hunter says, but the smile he flashes my brother is the fake one he used on me when we first met—tight and holding very little warmth. I wonder if it’s because of Cory’s teasing about drilling him with questions, but then I notice the ache lurking in Hunter’s eyes.
Only then do I realize how painful this very mundane, normal interaction between me and my brother must be for him to witness.
“You too,” Cory says. “Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime?”
It’s a loaded question. Some sort of bro-code for Are you interested in my sister, or do I not need to worry about you?
“Maybe,” is all Hunter gives him.
I hurry over to give Cory a hug and then hold the door open for him. “Next time, I hope you plan on staying longer. We barely even got to talk. Plus, I didn’t get to drill you about Meredith with my overly protective older-sister questions.”
Cory strides away from the bakery with a laugh. “Bye, Livarooni. Next time. Maybe.” He throws a wink at me over his shoulder.
I let the door shut with a jingle of the bell and turn to face Hunter.
“Is the lunch date offer still on the table?” I ask hesitantly.
I can’t read his mood anymore. Gone is the teasing, smiling man from five minutes ago, who came to cheer me up; Hunter’s face is a mask now.
“Iron fist aside, I have an in with the boss, and I think I might be able to get her to say yes.”
He is quiet long enough that my hands get clammy. Finally, he seems to shake himself, donning a small half-smile again. “Yeah, let’s go get that lunch. Livarooni.”
I groan. “You caught that, huh?”
“I did. And it is a name that will live in infamy all the days of your life.”
I ask Mom if she’s okay if I go take a quick lunch since we finished the special order, and she shoos me with a twinkle in her eyes.