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A little sprout of surprise grew in my belly. “You actually noticed me at your bar?”
He locked both arms on the counter and stared at me. “Daisy, I more than noticed you. I had to do everything in my power to pretend you didn’t exist.”
His words fluttered and flapped through me like a spastic cardinal trying to get my attention.
I opened the fried ravioli and took a breath.
“Are you just saying that because you’re one beer into this afternoon?”
Hunter laughed and shook his head. “It takes more than a beer for me to start saying things I don’t mean.”
I bent down to grab the cookie sheet and regroup.
What was going on?
He didn’t utter two sentences to me last year, and now…
It was the club. Millie must have planted some crazy idea in Hunter’s head, and it was my job to get it out.
I straightened and slid the tray in front of us.
“Well, anyway. Let’s get these snacks cooking, shall we?”
Hunter laughed and nodded, dumping some taquitos on his side.
But this was kind of a great opening to hear more about Hunter’s old relationship. I’d seen enough of it to be very confused by the whole thing.
“Right. We got off track earlier.”
His brow arched, and a few deep wrinkles ran along his forehead. “We did?”
I nodded, arranging the snacks on the tray as the oven warmed. “Yeah. I wanted to dissect your relationship.”
“Ah, man. I thought you’d somehow managed to forget that.”
“Nope. I have a memory as good as an elephant. Some might even say a dolphin.”
He chuckled. “Ooh, a dolphin. I'd better watch what I say. I wouldn’t want something coming up to haunt me in a few years.”
My stomach roiled with excited uncertainty. Would we still be talking in a few years?
No. Don’t jump ahead like that, Daisy. Get a grip. The beer’ was doing the talking.
I turned around to the fridge and opened the door. “Want another beer?”
“I guess I could always walk home. What the heck? Sure.”
My feet did a little happy dance as I pulled both beers out, pushing one into his hand. I was enjoying Hunter’s company far more than I realized.
The oven beeped, and I shoved the tray of food inside.
“We established that you were a chicken,” I joked. “But why?”
He smoothed his hand along his chest and chuckled. “I didn’t know we’d agreed to that about me.”
I leaned against my small island, taking in Hunter. There was no doubt about it. Every drop of the guy was gorgeous. Even his faults were flattering. Well, I guess to most, they wouldn’t be faults, but I generally dated lanky guys, and Hunter was all muscle.
Thick muscles.
