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Hunter grinned, though he yearned for a pair of basketball shorts, a lot of food, and his family to be piled all around him. His youngest was only three years old, a caboose baby he and Molly hadn’t been expecting. Five years sat between Clay and Charlotte, and Hunter adored each of his children, though they were all different.
“Maybe sandwiches from that place that Joel told us about?” Molly suggested. “Stop it, Charlotte. You like sandwiches.” She looked down, and when her pretty hazel eyes came back to meet his, she wore irritation there. “She is going to be the death of me this summer,” she said through a smile of clenched teeth.
“What does she want for dinner?”
“Hunter, you can’t stop at fifteen places.”
“I won’t,” he promised, though he’d been known to stop at three or four and get different things for the different members of his family.
“She wants one of those turkey bacon club sandwiches from that place Joel told us about,” Molly said. Her eyes flashed, and Hunter got the message.
“I’ll leave here in just a couple of minutes,” he said. “I sent the car to get gassed up.”
In the beginning, Molly couldn’t believe he couldn’t stop and get his own gas. “It isn’t about that,” he’d told her. HMC employed people to do that job, and if he did it, they might not have a job. It was a company car too, so why should Hunter have to take it to the gas station?
“I’m leaving here right now too,” Molly said. “So we’ll beat you, but not by much.” She turned to someone Hunter couldn’t see. “Have you seen my son? Ryder?”
“No, ma’am,” a cowboy said, and that caused Molly to sigh like the world was coming to an end.
“He keeps disappearing,” Molly said. “Then, when I finally find him, he won’t tell me where he’s been.” She wore a genuine look of worry. “Do you—could you talk to him about it?”
“Sure,” Hunter said. “I’ll take him fishing in the morning.”
“No, we have that Girl Scout Camp bake-off in the morning.”
Hunter had no idea what that was, but he said, “Right, okay. So we’ll go to that and then take a cake out onto the lake.” He grinned as his wife shook her head, a tiny smile playing at her lips. “I can take Lisa and Charlotte too.”
She lit up, and Hunter realized then that she needed a break. “And I’ll call your mother on the way home and ask her if she can take Clay for the day.”
“Hunter,” Molly said quietly.
He checked the clock on the microwave back in the kitchen. “I think I can get Suzie on the phone before she closes too.”
“No,” she said.
“Yes,” he argued back. “Mols, I see the look on your face right now, and I don’t like it.” He leaned closer to the phone as if he had to whisper his next words. “You help me when I get like this. Why can’t I do the same for you?”
She didn’t answer, and Hunter got to his feet. “I’ll see you at home in an hour.”
“Hunt.”
“Love you, baby.” He hung up in a rare showing of not wanting to talk to his wife. He suddenly had other calls to make, and some of them were time-constrained, that was all. He started with the masseuse, because she’d be the hardest to get for tomorrow, and to his relief, Suzie picked up on the second ring.
He hadn’t even left the apartment yet. “Suzie,” he practically bellowed. “Tell me how much I need to pay you to get my wife in tomorrow for an eighty-minute massage, hot rocks, that aromatherapy she loves, and access to the spa.”
“Hunter Hammond,” she said in a tired voice, and he could only laugh.
“I’ll tip you two hundred percent,” he said as he sobered. “I need this to happen.”
“You only call when it needs to happen,” Suzie said. “And God must be smiling down on you, because I can get her in at ten-thirty.”
He had no idea how long the Girl Scout Bake-Off would last or even what time it started. But he could take the kids if required. “Great,” he said. “She’ll be there. Anything she wants. You have my card on file?”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“Thank you, Suzie.”
“Try to call me a week in advance next time, Hunter.”
