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“Really?” I couldn’t stop grinning.

Hunter shook his head wonderingly. “Really, he asks. Of course, really! No wonder you’re vice president of whatever-the-fuck company you work for. Don’t suppose y’all would be willing to take on a logistics side hustle for a houseplant farmer, huh?” he joked. “Don’t they need plants in industrial kitchens?”

“Ha. I think yesterday we covered the fact that I have no idea what people need in industrial kitchens,” I said dryly.

And if it hadn’t already become clear to me why that was a problem, it certainly would have after this conversation. No promotion I’d ever gotten had made me as genuinely satisfied as seeing Hunter Jackson’s happiness and feeling like my ideas might help ease the burdens of his business. Hunter was right—I’d missed getting involved. I’d missed helping people. I’d let my need for stability grow until it choked out an important part of my nature. No wonder I felt unfulfilled at my job.

“Besides,” I went on lightly, “I thought we agreed that you preferred the term organic nursery owner. Owner of the largest houseplant supplier in Middle Tennessee, I believe you said?”

“Oh. Well.” Hunter caught my eye and gave me a flirty grin that did things to my stomach. “When I’m trying to impress a hot guy, sure.”

A bubble of laughter escaped me. “Puh-lease. Don’t pretend to be all modest now, Jackson. Just today, my cousin Eulalia was raving today about Emmaline’s Boston fern as we were sitting down for pecan pie. Oh my gawwwd, it’s so lusssshhhh, Emmaline! How’d y’all get it to doooo thaaat?” I snickered a little at my own impression of Eulalia’s deep drawl. “Emmaline told her, proud as a peacock, that the secret was getting a Jackson’s Organic Blooms plant. She said they’re prized all over the Thicket. Every household has at least one, like it’s a status symbol.”

“Everyone’s been really supportive.”

“Because they know you, and they care.” I pushed his knee gently. “Like I was saying before. They want to help.”

“That’s true.” Hunter scrunched up his face. “Of course, those same helpful neighbors also have their noses permanently inserted in your business. If you think too hard about how many people spent their holiday discussing The Great Turkey Incident Part Two: Hunter’s Revenge or will spend their Black Friday dishing about Part Three: The Turkey Niceness Bet, you’d run screaming to the airport and put yourself on the standby list.”

“Probably.” I laughed softly and leaned against Hunter’s side so I could run my fingertips through his beard and tug on it a little. “But… life in the city isn’t perfect either. It’s too far in the other direction sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I have good friends—my best friend, Seamus, is amazing—but life there feels more transient. Sometimes I make friends, and then they move away to pursue another job opportunity, or they wind up dating someone new and I never see them again. It was nice last night to see several gay couples all hanging out together at Brooks’s parents’ house, super chill and settled. We drank and laughed around a fire pit. It was the kind of life I dreamed about when I was a kid. I just… I never really thought I could have that here in the Thicket since I wasn’t straight, you know?”

Understanding warmed Hunter’s gaze. “Of course I know. I grew up gay here too, Charlie. Sounds like maybe you figured out your sexuality before I did if you knew you were gay before you left—I hadn’t quite cottoned on at that point—but once I did, well… as much as I love the Thicket and wanted to stay here, there were times when I wondered if I could. Like, would living here mean I could never hook up with anyone, much less settle down someday? If I had to make that trade, could I? One time, I went to Atlanta Pride and had so much fun with so many hot guys I spent the whole drive home fantasizing about what it would be like to live there.” He grinned. “Of course, I was over it long before I hit the town limits because I wanted this more.” He nodded toward the farmland outside his house. “And it was a moot point anyway since the gay population of the Thicket is… let’s say robust. But I do understand why living here isn’t for everyone. It’s not as easy as I made it out to be, and there’s no one right choice. That’s what I would have said yesterday… if I were being nice.”

Hunter’s voice was low and earnest, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world for me to shift a little closer, until my knees were practically in his lap, just so I could feel his warmth and breathe in the scent of him.

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