3. Sutton #3
I throw the ball back to him, releasing a relieved breath. I can’t believe I pulled that one off. When I look at Hunter, he’s got this goofy smile on his face that I match with one of my own.
I won’t lie. I like it when I make him proud.
“Hey,” Hunter grips my thigh. “Where’d you just go?”
I laugh. “That day I proved to you I could play baseball.”
He wipes his mouth with one hand, trying to hide that same goofy smile he gave me that day. “One of my favorite days.”
“What? No way.” I unbuckle my seat belt as he pulls alongside the water.
“Yes way. You’d watched Luke and me play for years, but you never joined in. I always hoped you would.”
“Really? Why?” I jump out of the ATV and grab our picnic blanket and basket while he grabs his tackle box.
“Because it’s something I love, and I hoped you would too.”
“Why would it matter whether or not I liked baseball?”
“Sutton.” He kneels down and sets about baiting his hook. “Sometimes I can’t figure out if you’re playing dumb or maybe we’ve both always been blind.”
His words pierce through the cracks in my armor, landing right in my heart. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Hunter moves toward the water and casts his line out. It’s several minutes before he looks at me over his shoulder.
“I liked you.” His confession hangs in the air between us.
“Sure you did,” I tease.
“Why is that so hard to believe?”
“The college guy who could have anyone liked me? Some lowly high school kid?” I lie back on my blanket, crossing my feet at the ankles and leaning on my elbows.
“I’m serious, Sutton. I liked you. A lot,” Hunter says.
We lapse into silence, each of us lost in our own memories.
It’s nice being this secluded from the world. No service, no clients, no noise. It’s just us. I’m glad he brought me today. It’s exactly what I needed to clear my head.
“Were you really that shocked that you didn’t get the job?” Hunter’s question pierces the silence.
“Honestly, no.” And it’s true, I knew it was a long shot. Still doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. “I hate it though. How can I get more experience if no one will give me a chance?”
“What about doing some simpler jobs and using those people as references? You know, start small before you go big.”
I sit up straight, staring a hole through his back. “You think people would hire me?”
“You won’t know unless you try.”
“This is why I like you,” I say. “You always see the answers that I’m too blind to see.”
I stand, brush off the back of my pants, and step up next to Hunter. He looks down at me and nudges my shoulder, offering me his fishing pole. I shake my head. I was never very good at fishing, but that never stopped me from tagging along. I liked sitting beside Hunter more than catching anything.
“You know,” he starts, casting his line out again. “I was thinking maybe you could work on the house.”
“Your house?”
My heart speeds up, having longed for this day to come. Hunter’s house is every designer’s dream. It’s spacious and has good bones. Aside from the kitchen and bathrooms, most rooms would be simple cosmetic upgrades.
“Why not?” he says. “It’s been almost two years since I moved in. I’m actually surprised you haven’t started yet.”
“Because it’s your house. I wouldn’t want to insert myself where I don’t belong.”
His line dips into the water, and he jerks it back. “You belong wherever I am,” he says. His words echo in the quiet.
My chest tightens before I can stop it. The words land warm and terrifying all at once. I’ve belonged somewhere before. I’ve lost it before.
“Hunter, we can’t.”
“So you say.” His voice is laced with frustration.
Suddenly a fish takes the bait on Hunter’s pole and runs, but he sets the hook, quickly reeling it to shore.
I run for the fishing net, but when I turn back, Hunter’s already got the fish in his hand and is removing the hook.
He slides the trout back into the water and watches it swim away.
“Let’s head back,” Hunter says. He turns his back to me and puts his fishing pole away. I snatch the picnic blanket and toss it into the ATV. Within minutes, we’re on the road back to the house.
Tears prick my eyes, but I wipe them away. There’s one thing I hate more than disappointing people—disappointing Hunter. Whatever this is between us has always been a simmering volcano, and I’m afraid after what happened in Colorado, we won’t ever cool the inferno.
But after everything that happened with my ex, I locked my heart inside an iron box.
Then, when Dad died . . . I threw the iron box to the bottom of the sea. You can’t get your heart broken that way.
But just because you’ve buried your heart at the bottom of the sea doesn’t mean it stops working.
“Hey, now.” Hunter reaches across the seat back and squeezes the base of my neck in that steadying way he always does. “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.”
I let the tears fall freely now, my heart pumping wildly inside its fortress. Because I’m not sure what’s worse: knowing I’m in love with Hunter or knowing I’m too scared to let him love me the way he wants to.