Chapter Twenty-Four
SIGHING, EMMA TOSSED HER sad attempt at knitting a scarf aside. She was enjoying the process, but the product left… something to be desired.
As did all of the absolute drama queens picking fights with each other on the current season of her favorite reality show. She grabbed the remote and turned the television off.
Before he’d left for work that morning, Hunter had been a picture of kindness. He’d double—and triple—checked that she had everything she could possibly need. That she was comfortable and that she knew how to reach him.
There’d been something off about his demeanor, though.
She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was, but after he’d come back from talking to his dad, he’d just had this distance in his eyes.
He hadn’t wanted to talk about the specifics of what his dad had said to him, and she’d decided it was best not to press too hard.
She hoped it didn’t have anything to do with her or the awful imposition she’d made of herself.
But after the way his father had looked at her, she couldn’t help the sinking sense that maybe it did.
Swallowing down the twitchy worry, she picked up her book, but she couldn’t seem to focus enough to read.
Hunter probably just needed some space. From the moment she met him, he’d been clear about not wanting anything to do with the meddling hand of fate that had tried to shove them together.
He didn’t believe in relationships—and sure, they’d overcome that, to an extent.
But they’d started spending time together as a way to hang out and have fun and try new things.
He hadn’t signed up for playing nursemaid.
He’d said he didn’t mind, but she hated the idea of being a burden to him.
Well, she wouldn’t stay a burden to him for long. Tomorrow, she’d head back to work, and he’d get some space, and everything would be fine.
She inhaled deeply and forced herself to let it out slow.
She grabbed her phone and scrolled social media for a few minutes, exchanging messages and comments with some of her mutuals who had steadily become friends, more than one of whom asked her how she was doing and what she was up to.
She bit her lip. It wasn’t quite her usual aesthetic, but a shot of her book with her swollen, wrapped ankle in the background was about as authentic as it got.
She staged the photograph and posted it with a silly caption, declaring that the upside of being an inept hiker was that at least you got some extra reading time while you were recovering.
Rolling her eyes at herself, she closed the app.
As she did, her gaze was drawn to the notification that her downloads had completed.
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
Hunter had promised to send her the videos and photos he’d taken during their hike the previous day, and he must have hit a slow patch—with cell reception! —because there they were.
After navigating to her camera roll, she tapped on the most recent video he’d sent over, even though she knew full well that it was going to be the embarrassing one of him wearing her like a backpack.
Hunter looked so hot, explaining how to help an injured hiking buddy, and she looked so pathetic, clinging to him like a spider monkey.
She flicked over to the next video. Too late, she realized that it was the one she’d been recording when she’d taken her spill. But by that point, she couldn’t bring herself to look away.
Covering her face in absolute mortification, she watched between her fingers as the camera clearly flew out of her hands, her yelp of alarm drowning out whatever Hunter had been saying.
The phone landed in a pile of leaves and dirt that obstructed the view a little, but still showed in startling detail how Hunter leapt into action to rescue her.
While he was calm and patient, she was obviously a mess. Heat rose on her cheeks, and she wanted to just turn the video off, but she stared at it like a train wreck.
Good grief. The way she’d looked at Hunter as he helped her up…
The back of her neck prickled. It was too open and vulnerable. Her feelings for him were written all over her face. Anyone who watched this would know.
Were the rest of the videos like this?
When she finally hit the end of the clip, she went through half a dozen more. In all of them, Hunter was stolid and gorgeous and endearingly gruff, while in the handful where she appeared, she was an absurd, lovesick fool.
She blanked the screen, and for a moment, she closed her eyes.
Was that how she looked at him all the time?
Had he seen?
She didn’t exactly feel like she had to hide her growing feelings from him.
While she hesitated to call what they shared together a “relationship,” it was definitely mutual.
But it had accelerated so quickly, and at least in the beginning, he’d been so adamant about not wanting to get involved.
She didn’t want to rush things any further—both for his sake and for hers.
And she definitely didn’t want to share her feelings with the world.
Pinching her nose, she opened her eyes once more.
There were still plenty of good clips to work with, even excluding the ones where she’d butted her heart eyes into the frame.
With some judicious editing, she could stretch the material they had into weeks’ worth of original content.
Playing to the algorithm’s preferences, she could remix some of the videos with different text, sounds, and effects, too.
Reinvigorated, she got to work, putting together a pretty clickbaity little video of him showing off some of the beautiful fall foliage in the park.
While she waited for it to upload, she checked out some of the engagement on the small handful of other videos she’d posted, which were reaching a very respectable audience for a brand-new account.
Most of it was really encouraging, with several commenters saying they were going to add Silver Pines Preserve to their list of places to visit.
Some of it was weird, of course, because it was the internet.
She laughed out loud at one growing thread, which was debating the origins of his @H_ForestRanger username.
@hikerbabe89: What does the H stand for???
@leafmealone: HOT!!!!!
@hikerbabe89: yesssssssss
The comments definitely fell under the category of “making it weird,” but it wasn’t as if they were wrong, so she left them alone.
She was just about to exit out and try to read again when her phone pinged with a notification from her bookseller account. Her eyes went wide. It was a direct message from Ji-An.
@realjian: What on earth were you doing hiking??
Emma chuckled beneath her breath. It was a fair question, considering the most adventurous place they’d ever gone together in New York was a bar on the roof of a three-story walk-up.
But it was also a very weird way to strike up a conversation, considering the months of radio silence.
She replied carefully.
@EmmaLovesBooks: What can I say? I’ve been branching out
@realjian: Well, if you’re ever looking to come back to civilization, let me know. I landed on my feet with a sweet gig at a new boutique publisher in Brooklyn, and our marketing department is hiring!
Emma actually flinched. What? Seriously?
@realjian: Also, sorry for being a total bitch last time we talked
Emma was absolutely reeling now.
@EmmaLovesBooks: Thanks, I think
Three seconds later, her phone rang with an actual call from Ji-An, surprising her so much she almost dropped the thing.
“Hi?” she answered.
“Okay, seriously, can we skip the groveling thing?” Ji-An asked.
“What?”
“You know, the part where I grovel for being awful and blaming you, when obviously it was your dickhead fiancé? I was, like, going through some stuff.”
“Yeah.” Emma swallowed, her fingers flexing around the phone. “Me, too.”
Ji-An laughed companionably, as if this was all just hilarious. “Normally, I’d say to meet me somewhere and you could tell me all about it over drinks, but considering you’ve relocated to Bumblefuck—”
“It’s not.” Emma bit the inside of her cheek. “It’s this really nice small town in Vermont.”
“Sure, if you say so. But seriously, we actually are hiring for our marketing department. Salary’s good, plus benefits, and I bet I could get you a relocation package, if you were interested.”
Interested? A couple of months ago, Emma would have absolutely jumped at an offer like that. Now, though?
A part of her was, in fact, tempted. New York and publishing had both been huge parts of her life for so long. She missed museums and new restaurants and people-watching in the park.
But Heart’s Hope Crossing had grown on her. She had new friends she adored, and rediscovering the great outdoors had been a literal breath of fresh air. She loved the quiet, and all of the inspiration she’d found for her online community and for the bookshop. She liked her job, and she…
Well, she had a whole lot of feelings about Hunter.
“I don’t know…”
“How about I at least send you the posting and give your number to our HR person? You can talk with her and get some more information.”
“I guess getting some more details couldn’t hurt,” she allowed.
“Great. Okay, I gotta go, but we should catch up more soon.”
“Yeah, definitely.”
“Bye!” And just like that, Ji-An was gone.
Which… was basically in character. She’d disappeared from Emma’s life once, only to reappear out of nowhere, so her hanging up without them actually discussing any of the things that mattered to Emma made sense.
Was that how their friendship had always worked? It couldn’t have been completely one-sided. Emma had definitely talked about her life when they got together.
But her life had always been so boring. Maybe she’d been more of a passenger in the relationship than she’d realized.