Chapter Thirteen
“HOLD ON.” PINCHING THE bridge of his nose with one hand, Hunter gripped his phone more tightly with the other. “By some miracle, I happen to have the afternoon off, on a Saturday in autumn, and you need me to what?”
He’d just finished cleaning up a big mess some teenagers had made on one of their more popular trails the night before, and he was more than ready to head home, put his feet up, and enjoy whatever scheduling error had left him with an unexpected boon of free time.
But the minute he’d gotten back into the reception zone, his phone had lit up.
He’d missed half a dozen calls and texts from Lucas, and even he realized that that kind of situation merited a call back.
“Look, can you meet me at the diner today or not?”
He could, but did he want to? “We just went for a drink last week and I had to see your ugly mug at that stupid line dancing class.”
That had to fulfill his social obligation quota for the month.
“Pfft,” Lucas scoffed. “Like you were looking at my mug.”
Hunter flexed his jaw. Yes, his attention had been elsewhere. Mostly on Emma, and how beautiful and free and sexy she looked, brush-stepping and kicking along with all the other weirdos in this town. But Lucas didn’t have to go calling him out on it.
“How can I miss it, with your giant head?”
“Anyway, I just need to talk to you about something.”
Well, that wasn’t ominous. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Hunter frowned, wanting to press, but if Lucas insisted on discussing whatever the hell was going on in person, he supposed he’d make yet another exception to his I never go into town if I can possibly help it policy. “Fine. My shift is just about over. I can be there—”
He’d been about to say in half an hour, but Lucas interrupted to declare, “Two o’clock.”
What? “Two? That’s not even a real mealtime.”
“See you there.” Lucas hung up before Hunter could ask any more questions.
He huffed out a breath of exasperation, staring at his phone for a minute before rolling his eyes and stuffing the thing in his pocket.
He swore to God, if Lucas weren’t his best—and only—friend, he’d tell him to stick it where the sun didn’t shine.
As it was, he supposed a midafternoon slice of pie and a coffee weren’t the worst hardships that could befall a guy. At least the place wouldn’t be crowded.
Shaking his head, he made his way into the ranger station, where Alix had just arrived to relieve him, which was perfect on multiple levels. He hadn’t seen her in the past couple of days, and he had something he’d been meaning to give her.
“Hey, boss,” she started, hanging up her jacket and heading to the workstation where she usually hung out.
“Hey, yourself.” He pulled open the top drawer of his desk and grabbed the little stack of envelopes sitting inside. With a flourish, he dropped them on the counter in front of her.
She picked one up, brow crinkling in confusion. “What are these?”
“Letters of recommendation. Your mom cornered me last weekend and told me you were supposed to have asked me for them.”
He might as well have told her they were scorpions. She threw her hands up in the air. “My mom is losing her freaking mind. I told her I’m not doing those stupid applications.”
“Whoa, chill out—”
That did not chill her out. “Why won’t she listen to me?
I’m good here. I don’t want to go to college, and I’m not wasting my time filling out a billion forms to find out if some snooty school is going to do me the favor of letting me pay them hundreds of thousands of dollars to earn a degree I don’t need. ”
“Tell me how you really feel,” he muttered. “Look—”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a freaking kid.”
Says the seventeen-year-old. He managed to keep the snarky comment to himself and instead held up his hands in surrender. “When have I ever told you what to do, except when it was literally my job as your boss to do so?”
She took a few deep breaths. “Never.”
“That’s right.” He exhaled deeply himself. “All I’m saying is that your mom told me you needed these, so I spent several minutes writing them, and if I do say so myself, they are glowing.”
“Thanks. I guess.” She plopped down in her chair and grabbed the offending envelopes with distaste.
And he should probably stay out of this, but he hated seeing Alix so steamed up about this. “Can I give you a free piece of advice?”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to pay you for it.”
“Look, this is just my opinion, but…” Despite their generally snarky relationship, he tried to be serious. “Your mom wanting you to keep your options open isn’t completely unreasonable.”
His voice caught for a second as his thoughts unconsciously flitted to his own mom, and how she hadn’t been there when he’d been going through these sorts of growing pains. And how much he wished she had been.
“Just.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Maybe cut her a little slack and listen to what she has to say.”
She shot him the dirtiest look imaginable, but the fire had gone out of her. “I’ll consider it. But no promises.”
He held up his hands in front of his chest. “That’s all I’m asking.”
With that settled, he briefed her on the day so far before grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. He was almost out when Alix called after him, “Have fun!”
That gave him pause for a second. He liked having time off as much as anyone else, but he wasn’t exactly a “fun” kind of guy. Shrugging, he brushed it off, said, “So long,” and made his way to his truck.
In hindsight, though, it probably should have been his first sign.
The second sign, of course, was Lucas’s truck not being parked out in the lot behind the diner, but Lucas worked just down the street. He could have walked.
The third sign was all the other cars that were parked there.
He got out of his truck slowly, narrowing his eyes. It was like he’d said—two p.m. wasn’t a real mealtime. Why would the Sunny Days Diner’s lot be half-full?
Turned out, he was right to be suspicious. He took one step inside the back door, and the fourth through thirty-second signs of something being off all smacked him in the face.
Normally, the diner had a pretty standard layout.
Booths along the sides, tables of various sizes arrayed throughout the main dining room.
But all those tables had been shoved together to make one big one.
Joe Millanopoulis—better known as Chef—was pacing around, while Hattie and another one of the usual servers dashed about, setting up what looked like little workstations, complete with cutting boards and knives and bowls full of ingredients, and this… This was…
“Hunter!” Chef caught sight of him. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
Hunter didn’t come to the diner all that often, what with it being in town and all, but the place was an institution, serving delicious, unfussy fare at a good price. You couldn’t be a Heart’s Hope Crossing resident without being on a first-name basis with Chef.
“Uh, yeah, about that,” Hunter started.
“We were full, you know. First time offering a cooking class. But Granny told me you were so keen to learn, so I managed to squeeze in an extra seat.”
Hunter’s jaw clenched. “She did, did she?”
“Come, come. You’re right here.”
And he didn’t really even have to look. He knew exactly what he was going to see.
So why did it still take his breath away to find Emma sitting there, right next to the last open spot at the big table? She had her hair up, which was probably smart for a cooking class, but it just showed off the long, gorgeous line of her neck.
“Oh!” Her mouth formed a soft O of surprise when she caught sight of him. “Hunter. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Funnily enough,” he said, just barely managing to keep the frustration from his tone, “I was expecting Lucas and a slice of pie.”
Her brows crinkled. “But the restaurant is…” Realization dawned on her, and her eyes widened. “Closed.”
“Yup,” he said, letting the P pop.
“We’ll be starting in just a minute,” Chef announced.
Hunter glanced around. There were a dozen-odd people either sitting at workstations, visiting with their friends, or generally milling around. All of them were shooting less-than-covert glances his way.
“Granny gave me my ticket,” Emma said. “By way of Hattie, in any case. Cleared my schedule, too.”
“My schedule was also weirdly cleared.” Hunter was honestly equal parts annoyed and impressed. This setup had taken some serious coordination.
He didn’t like being manipulated. He liked it even less when Emma was biting her lower lip and practically squirming.
“I mean, I have always wanted to learn how to cook. And the menu theme is ‘Greek Feast,’ which sounds pretty great.” She faked a smile, making the best of things the way she always did. “If you don’t want to stay…”
And he could imagine a version of himself that definitely did not. He could throw a fit and march right back out the door, and never speak to Granny or Lucas—or hell, even Emma—again.
But this wasn’t Emma’s fault. It definitely was Granny’s and Lucas’s fault, but he could give them a hard time about that later.
As pissed as he was at both of them, and at whoever else had been enlisted in this scheme, there was a small part of him that was…
touched. Putting this much effort into giving him a free cooking class with a beautiful girl was exactly the obnoxious, meddling way that people showed they cared in this town.
And he’d been avoiding Emma for an entire week now.
Ever since that almost-kiss, when they’d both backed away from the edge at the same time.
He’d enjoyed their text messages, and he’d felt good about building something like a friendship with her, without the pressure of attraction pushing them to go further than either of them was ready to go.
He’d told himself it was enough. That things were going great.
But…
And this was impossible, really. He’d only known her for a couple of weeks.
But he’d missed her. Her soft smile and kind eyes, and the way she looked at him, like she saw something the whole rest of the world didn’t. He missed the hum of energy between them, which he could feel even now.
He swallowed and flexed his jaw. His gaze darted to Hattie, who was setting out knives while definitely staring at him.
And then at Chef, who wasn’t paying them any mind at all as he practically vibrated around the room.
The guy was also probably an innocent in all of this.
Just an amazing cook, excited to share some of his secrets with a bunch of folks who had come here to learn.
“Well,” Hunter said, his mouth suddenly dry. He pulled out the chair next to Emma’s. “Who am I to turn down a free meal?”