Chapter Eleven
THERE WERE TIMES WHEN Emma missed the sheer energy of living in the city. The museums and the trendy eateries and the hundred different languages being spoken on any given street corner.
But tonight? Strolling down Heart Street—the street quiet, the trees above lit with fairy lights, the sidewalk lined with planters full of fresh fall mums? With Hunter’s warm, solid presence by her side?
Well, she couldn’t really say that there was anything she was missing.
And if the town itself was a little sleepy, that was more than offset by the energy buzzing around like fireflies in her chest. The relative silence of the evening after the thrum of the bass from those amateur DJs was punctuated only by the distant sounds of nature and by Hunter’s even footfalls and steady, calming breaths.
Her whole side lit up where it nearly grazed his. She was trying so hard to keep her emotions in check, but the way he’d looked at her as they’d stood there, outside the room where people were still dancing, had thrown her all off-kilter, and in the best possible way.
The city might have been expansive, but she’d been lost in it. Stuck in a rut so deep she hadn’t even realized she couldn’t see beyond its walls.
How long had it been since she’d met new people, or tried a new activity? Or had a person really see her the way Hunter had tonight?
Even if nothing was happening between them, he’d touched something inside her.
This entire town had. The wounds of Brock’s betrayal were still too fresh for her to actually be grateful for the strange twists and turns of circumstances that had landed her here.
But the silver lining was undeniably shining against the crisp evening air.
A little shiver went through her at the thought, and Hunter glanced down at her. “You cold?”
She shook her head—she was almost too warm, thanks to him.
It wasn’t a long walk from the community center to her apartment over the bookshop, and they’d mostly been quiet so far. But as they approached Heart Street, she took her lip between her teeth.
“So,” she asked. “Did you have a decent time tonight? I know it wasn’t exactly your thing, but…”
“I had a great time.” He said it firmly, and with so much conviction that even her anxious brain couldn’t come up with some reason to doubt his sincerity.
Especially when he smiled, looking down to meet her gaze.
“I don’t know that I’m going to go shopping for cowboy boots or take it up professionally or anything. But it was fun.”
She laughed out loud, just imagining him diving down some line dancing rabbit hole. She liked a hot cowboy as much as any other red-blooded girl, but the look would be all wrong on Hunter.
“Well, good.” She nudged his arm with her elbow, playfully, but the contact still set off sparks in her heart. “I’m glad.”
“Me, too.” His voice dropped, becoming more serious and contemplative. He scratched at the side of his beard. “I can, uh, tend to get a little stuck in my comfort zone sometimes.”
“I know what that’s like.” Did she ever.
“Most of the time, it doesn’t bother me.
” He craned his neck to check for any nonexistent traffic before crossing the street.
“I like what I like, and in general, I know what that is. But it’s still good to shake things up occasionally.
” Clearing his throat, he dropped his hand to his side, where it brushed against hers, and the sparks shooting through her were even warmer now.
“So thank you, is what I’m trying to say. ”
A flush rose up her cheeks, burning away behind her ribs, too. “Anytime.”
“I hope you mean that,” he said, too intense, and she was seriously about to combust.
They’d arrived at the bookshop, and she led the way to the back entrance she used for coming and going when she wasn’t working. She got out her keys by way of habit, and then wished she hadn’t. She fiddled with them, looking down, because looking directly at him was too much right now.
What was this wild beating in her chest?
She felt all loose in her limbs, and her breathing was coming too fast, and it wasn’t as if she were a virgin or anything.
But she’d only ever been with one guy, and if he’d ever given her the flutters like this, it had been so long ago that she’d forgotten what it felt like.
She took a deep breath and forced away the anxious train of thought that threatened to creep up on her.
She didn’t want to think about Brock right now. She wanted to be here, in the present, with Hunter. Brock had already stolen her life savings from her and most of her twenties. He wasn’t going to steal this moment, too.
“Well.” She found the key that opened the back door and ran her nail along its edge. “Maybe we could try some more new things.” Her throat was so dry, her whole body tingly. Hunter was only standing a foot away. Close enough to touch. “Together.”
Crap, was that too forward?
Immediately, she tried to pull the words back into her mouth, but it was too late, so instead, she word-vomited out a few dozen more.
“I don’t mean together together.” Except she did. “I know you don’t do relationships, and I just got out of an insanely long one. Just platonic thing-doing. If you want. But if you don’t—”
“Emma.”
Her name in that deep, rumbly voice of his cut her off, and thank God, because she was about to slap her own hand over her mouth just to stop herself from nervous talking any more.
“Yeah?” she squeaked.
And then he was taking one more step toward her. It put them close—way too close to be platonic. Her chest tightened. He was so warm, even though he wasn’t touching her. She was turning into a big, squishy, messy ball inside, and this couldn’t be normal or healthy, could it?
Staring straight into her eyes, Hunter lifted a hand to her face. His rough fingertips brushed her cheek, setting off fireworks low in her abdomen, and sending sparks shimmering out through her chest. What she felt was attraction, of course, but it was also connection. He felt it, too. He had to.
“I’d love to try new things with you.” His deep voice reverberated through her bones.
And for a second, his gaze dipped to her mouth. She couldn’t breathe.
Every instinct inside of her screamed at her to throw herself at him and kiss him senseless. She wanted so badly to get lost in this moment, risks and consequences be damned.
But all the reasons to hold back jabbed at her brain. Her relationship history, her newness in town, his antipathy toward fate and love. His absolute certainty that happy endings didn’t stay happy for long.
Struggling to swallow all of her fears, she put her hand over his, just holding on.
But her tiny moment of doubt was apparently enough to send him rushing back from the edge of whatever cliff he’d been standing on. He blinked, his throat bobbing and the intensity fading from his eyes.
He didn’t drop his hand, though. “I should go.”
“Probably.” She didn’t want him to. She wanted to invite him upstairs. But even she knew she wasn’t ready for that.
Slowly, as if asking for her permission, he leaned in closer. Her breath stuttered again. But in the end, he simply pressed his lips to her cheek. She grasped his wrist, letting her eyelids flutter closed, reveling in the contact. He smelled so good, his breath warm against her skin.
When he pulled back, she released him. Butterflies still swished around in her chest, and there might have been stars in her eyes. He let go and took a step away. And that was the correct, smart decision.
So why did it feel wrong?
“Good night, Emma,” he said roughly.
“Good night, Hunter.”
He stood there, waiting, so she forced herself to turn around and unlock the door. She let herself in, only peeking back once through the window to watch him finally walk away. Once he was out of sight, she let herself deflate.
But as all the air rushed out of her, it was replaced with brand-new, fresh, shiny doubts. What happened between them now? Clearly they meant something to each other.
But what?
The whole walk back to his truck, Hunter stewed. His hand was on fire from where he’d touched her. Her cheek had been so soft, and when she’d curled her fingers around his wrist, he’d nearly burst into flames.
He wanted her. He liked her. Something about her soothed the parts of him that had been on edge forever. She made him comfortable enough to open up about his feelings and his past. Hell, she made him comfortable enough to dance, of all the godforsaken things.
Kissing her would have been a mistake, but was not kissing her almost as dangerous? He didn’t have friends, except Lucas, really, and maybe his sister, but she barely counted. Could he be friends with a girl he liked as much as he liked Emma?
Could he stay away?
Of course he could. Thanks to years of practice, he was an expert at keeping his distance, from just about everyone and everything. He could retreat to his cabin in the woods and basically never see her again. That would be the smart thing to do. So why did the idea of it make his chest ache?
He could also drive right back over to her place and bang down her door.
He could sweep her off her feet and claim that kiss he’d been trying not to imagine since the minute he met her.
How good would she feel in his arms? He wanted to taste her lips and feel her skin.
Pure desire sent waves of heat rushing through him.
Only to be doused when he tried to envision what kind of “fate” could lie before them along that road.
Cursing himself beneath his breath, he let himself into his truck and started the engine. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.
So—what? He couldn’t stay away from her, and he couldn’t let himself get involved with her. Where did that leave him?
Was there a middle path where he could just stay friends with her?
He still hadn’t figured it out when the sound of loud voices interrupted the quiet night.
He’d parked toward the back of the community center’s lot, but he still had a good view of the front door, where half the town appeared to currently be spilling out.
His brows drew together at the sight of Granny, wrapped in what appeared to be the orange tablecloth that had been covering the snack table.
Next to her was Mayor Thompson, and they both had fake autumn leaves stuck in their hair.
The image forced a bark of laughter out of him, chasing away the dark edge of broodiness from his mood. What the hell had happened?
An overwhelming urge rose in him. Before he could stop himself, he took out his phone and opened up the camera app. He snapped a shot and tapped the button to share it. He let his thumb hover for a minute before selecting Emma’s number from his contacts.
Apparently things got even weirder after we left…he typed.
He hit send and watched the message fly off into the ether with his heart in his throat. Five seconds later, the little check mark appeared next to it, indicating it had been read, and three bubbles appeared.
Literal LOL. What happened?!?
A smile spread over his face, his whole body suddenly feeling lighter.
Ask Granny for me next time you see her, will you?
And there were those three damn bubbles again. They dragged on for longer than seemed reasonable, or maybe he was just impatient.
At last her reply appeared.
Promise
It was just one word, but it echoed deep behind his ribs.
Just a minute ago, everything had seemed doomed. But there was potential in the air, now. Hope. Maybe he could be her friend, through silly pictures and town gossip. It wasn’t everything he wanted, but it was what he could afford.
And maybe… just maybe…
It could be enough.