Page 39 of Something Like Sunflowers

I couldn’t stand it if that were true. I might be able to perform a skilled level of emotional masonry, packing brick by brick into place around my feelings for Hunter and everything we’ve been through, but I can’t stop how much it would hurt if I thought he stopped caring about me altogether. About us and everything we’ve been through.

I need to know.

I step closer to him, brushing away tears on my sleeves and smearing them into the fabric, wanting nothing more than to be held by this man I keep running from. Wanting to stop being so damn fickle with my heart and just let it be. Do what I want. Fuck him, date him, make him mine.

And wanting to know he wants me, too.

“At first, you know, I thought maybe you were in this for both things. The job and the time we’d have to spend together. I let myself think we could be friends and fair competitors. But now? Now I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Hunter. This push and pull, hot and cold thing you have going on. You spill coffee on me, then save my ass in the interview and try to kiss me in the elevator. Help me with my Jeep and my bags, but then screw me out of a pageant and potential job of my dreams? And now you’re here chasing away a nice man who could have been my happily ever after, for all we know—”

“A nice man, Devyn? Garrison is not a nice man. And he is most certainly not your happily ever after. I saved your ass from something you don’t even understand. He’s distanced himself from everyone for reasons, Dev.”

“Oh, my gosh. You are insufferable! Men are all the same. It’s all appearances, ego, and who you know.” I stalk back and forth. “Well, you know what? People used to talk shit about me, too, remember? But look at me now.” I slam my hand on the wall behind him. “Look at me, Hunter!”

His face darkens and his eyes flare with something that looks a lot like anger, but more like something else. Something that makes me hot and bothered in more good ways than bad.

He lowers his voice almost to a growl. I always used to roll my eyes when men would growl in romance novels.

…I get the appeal now.

“Garrison Presley is an animal abuser,” he says, looking around to make sure he’s not drawing attention. “He’s a disgrace to the farming community, Devyn. Not only does he use inhumane methods with his cattle, but he keeps his chickens in those little cages you hate, so come at me if you want, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Oh, my God, he’s so fucking hot when he’s mad, and I need to rein it in.

“Okay,” I grind back at him, trying hard to school the cavewoman attraction I just experienced and get back to the stuff that really matters. Still, note to self…screw Garrison. I hate those tiny cages.

I’m not admitting that to Hunter, though.

“Are you in it for the job?” I finally ask. Because the answer to that makes the difference in everything going on between us right now. “Are you trying to sabotage me, or are you playing fair? What do you want?”

“You.”

He looks at me like I’m an absolute idiot who should have already known this. Like it’s been obvious.

Like his answer to that question hasn’t changed since the beginning of time.

Oh.

We stand in silence, or it feels that way, at least, because I can’t hear or think about anything around me right now, and despite the sadness and anger bubbling in the pit of my stomach, there’s something more there. It’s something good.

And the only thing I really know about it, as confusing as it may sound, is that it comes from Hunter saying he wants me.

Me.

“And I’m just supposed to believe you didn’t have any selfish motives? That you weren’t trying to screw me out of the job by tricking me with the pageant? How do you even explain that, huh?”

He sighs dramatically—exasperated, it seems—as he yanks at his hair. “The only selfish motive I’ve ever had was to get you back here, Dev.”

I want to believe him. To run to his arms and let him scoop me up, wrap my legs around him and kiss him with everything I’ve held back for so long, but I can’t. Not for the man who had someone to replace me the minute I left. Not for someone who got over pain that still lives within me daily. I turn away from him again and press roughly on the corners of my eyes, willing them to give me their everything, to hold back my tears and keep me from falling apart right in front of him.

I feel him touch my shoulder, soft and slow, my skin heating beneath him. He spins me back around, gently wiping my eyes with his thumbs, then tilts my chin up so our eyes meet.

“If you knew there wasn’t a pageant program anymore, I wasn’t sure you’d have a reason to come back home. You could have raised money from the city, doing your library readings and women’s club fundraisers, or whatever it is you’ve been doing all these years…it’s not like I Google you or anything.” He smiles, magnetically attracting my own to do the same. “I couldn’t chance it, Dev. Once I saw you in that interview room—shit, once I saw you on the street, mad as hell and dripping in coffee, it was over for me. I had to get you back.”

“So you made up a reason for me to come back to Pine Forest…to be with you?”

“Yeah. I did.” He shuffles back and forth like he’s seventeen and picking me up for homecoming, nervous as hell while my dad shines his shotgun, even though he’d never use it on Hunter. He was like a second son. Still, I see glimpses of that boy I remember in the man before me now, and pieces of my heart shift together in ways that feel natural. Even if that does scare me.

Will I always feel this way when I look at him? He sifts his hand through his hair and then holds it out to me like he’s decided something.

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