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Bronte was about to say something when Luke let out a frustrated cry, fighting Zoe for a stuffed dog pillow. Fitz broke them up. “And that’s our cue to head out.”
They left in a flurry of costumes and candy bags, but not before Fitz gave a stiff clap on the shoulder to Chris, in what he thought might be brotherly support. Guess Fitz didn’t like Hunter either. Shelley, Tommy, and Zoe followed, leaving an awkward quiet behind.
Hunter broke it after a while, slapping his thighs as he stood up. “Guess we better get going.”
Bronte sat up from her position next to her mother on the couch. “What? I thought we were—”
“I made us reservations at a bed-and-breakfast in New Hope.”
Bronte’s mouth hung open at her boyfriend’s statement.
“Surprise.” He smirked, seeming pretty pleased with himself, and Chris rolled his eyes, plopping down on Pattie’s recliner.
“What’s the occasion?” Steven asked.
“I figured it was about time we got some quality time together, right, Brontosaurus?” Hunter threw an arm around Bronte’s shoulders. “You’ve been saying you wanted to go there for years.”
Chris huffed. “And you’re finally going now?”
Hunter’s head snapped toward him, his voice patronizing. “Well, I’ve been busy working with the state legislature, so there wasn’t much time for anything else.”
Chris raised his eyebrows. “No time for anything else, including Bronte?”
He laughed through his nose, sneering down at Chris. “She understands.”
Chris’s gaze immediately found Bronte. Her head was bent down, hiding her eyes, but if he could see them, he would bet they’d show she didn’t understand. What he couldn’t understand was why she’d stay with a guy like that.
* * *
In complete shock,Bronte followed Hunter to his car and didn’t argue when he rushed her to change and pack a bag back at her apartment. It was already after eight o’clock, there was no reason to hurry, but this was the most romantic thing he’d done in a long time, so she went with it.
The drive was a little over an hour, and he used the time to explain his reasons why Bronte should move to Harrisburg. One through five were about his condo and his future at the lobbying firm. Six through ten were his favorite bars, food, and the fact that they could enjoy naked Sundays together.
Admittedly, it could have been better researched.
New Hope was a quaint town, on the edge of Pennsylvania, with cute antique shops and art galleries Bronte had been dying to check out, but almost everything was closed by the time they checked in.
Hunter tugged her back out the door before she could say no. “There’s a brewpub up the street. I heard they’ve got great burgers.” He reached for her hand as they walked. “Did you have fun today?”
Bronte raised her eyebrow at him. “Huh?”
“Trick-or-treating? Halloween? Your whole family thing?”
There was something off about him. His words jumbled together, and the hand that wasn’t holding hers danced all over the place as he spoke.
“Yeah. It was fine.”
“Fine? That’s all you have to say after you made a big deal over me not being there?”
“It was fun. It always is.” She kept her words as brief as possible so her guilt from another almost-kiss with Chris didn’t seep into them.
“I was thinking next year for Halloween, we could have a party at our place. I was talking to Jack about it at work today. He used to have one at his house, but now he’s got the baby, so he suggested I take over. I didn’t think it was a bad idea.”
Bronte didn’t give him an answer, too confused by his rambling to even bring up the “our place” statement. Hunter was usually composed and calculated, never one to speak more than he needed to, so his behavior was way out of character. Although once they were seated, he calmed after ordering a beer and chugging it down in a few gulps. He finished with a contented breath and relaxed into his chair. Bronte hated how he’d rather hide in a glass of beer than talk to her about what was bothering him, but she’d had that particular argument with him one too many times already.
The brewery had two floors, with wood and metal furnishings. On the second floor, not far from where they were seated, was a pool table and sliding doors that opened to a deck. The music was kind of new age folk, and the place was packed with flannel and facial hair. Bronte smiled to herself, thinking of Chris.
She hadn’t missed the look he’d tossed her as she followed Hunter out the door of her parents’ house. Basically the equivalent of WTAF?
