Jax immediately brightened. “I knew you loved me.”
“I bought it because Beau said you’d steal his.”
I looked at her. “When did I say that?”
“Last week.”
She remembered.
Then she noticed Hunter properly. Her attention shifted toward him, and something about her expression changed. If I hadn’t spent the last few weeks learning Carson’s face, I probably would’ve missed it.
Her gaze dropped briefly to his outstretched prosthetic leg.
Then to his arm.
Then, strangely, to me.
“Hey, Hunter.”
“Hey.”
“Escaping Clover?”
“Apparently everyone thinks that.”
“She’s intense.”
“You’re telling me.”
Carson smiled and moved closer to him.
Jax asked Hunter to come look at the front tire, and Hunter stood, walking toward the third bay. Carson watched him for a second. Then looked at me again. There was something soft in her eyes.
“What?” I questioned her.
“You’re staring at me.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“Maybe I like looking at you, sweetheart.”
The words mirrored something I’d told her at Marigold. Her mouth curved into my favorite smile. For a second, I thought she might kiss me. I would’ve let her. Instead, she pushed the sandwich against my chest again. “Eat.”
Then she walked toward the office like she hadn’t just left me wondering what the hell that look had meant.
I watched her go with twitching fingers and furrowed brows.
Whatever Carson wasn’t telling me, I had the strangest feeling Hunter knew at least part of it.
And for the first time, I wondered whether I was the only person in her life still waiting to be let in.
Carson stayed until closing. She claimed it was because Rosie needed her to approve the final festival signs at town hall, and since I had two repaired lantern brackets that needed to be dropped off in the same direction, neither of us saw a reason to drive.
Main Street was only a few blocks from the shop.
By the time we locked the bays, the worst of the afternoon heat had broken, leaving behind the kind of September evening that made Willow Creek magical.