Page 11 of Meet Me in Paris

Alexis beamed. “I run their teen program. I’m also overthe mountain biking and hiking divisions. If it weren’t for me, eighty percent of the counselors would get lost.”

I watched my sister interact with him, unwillingly admiring how easily he pulled my sister from her shell. She never opened up like this, yet he seemed to bring out the best in her. At least that part of him hadn’t changed. He always was a charmer.

“So you live here now?” Alexis asked.

Hunter nodded. “About four years now. I started with an internship with a tourism company, then got hired on full-time. I finished my history degree online in the evenings.” He seemed to avoid my gaze.

I swallowed, reading the full meaning behind his words. He didn’t want to come home because I was there. And I didn’t want to come here because he was here. Too much pain and rejection to deal with head-on, and so we played the avoidance game.

“You should start an extreme-adventure tour here,” Lexi said. “Go to a few old buildings and museums, and they start to feel the same. A bike tour or zip line outside the city sounds way more fun. If that existed, I would totally come back.”

“If that’s what it will take to get you back, I’ll mention it to my friend.” His sharp eyes finally landed on me, pinning me with his gaze. “Somebody once told me Paris is always a good idea.”

I didn’t miss the Sabrina reference. In that instant, I felt exposed, like that nightmare I’d had since high school, finding myself in math class in my pajamas. Or less. Hunter had a way of seeing through my walls, and I hadn’t had a chance to fortify them in preparation for this moment. I looked down at my rumpled clothes and tried to smootheverything down. I carefully chose my outfits for this trip to avoid looking like an American tourist, but falling down the stairs had a way of outing people. Maybe I should have gone with the comfortable jeans after all.

My knee throbbed, and I felt a headache coming on. If only our hotel room had a bathtub to soak in and not a shower.

“And finally, the million-dollar question,” Hunter said, looking at my sisters. “What are the Travell sisters doing in Paris?” Hunter’s eyes flicked to mine again, and I saw the question he didn’t ask.What does it mean, seeing you here, Kennedy?

Million dollar question? What did he know about the inheritance? I pushed back my panic and reminded myself it was just an expression. He couldn’t possibly knew about the inheritance. “Just a sister trip,” I said quickly. “Paris is one stop of many over the next month.”

Jillian clapped her hands. “You should be our tour guide, Hunter! I bet you know all about the city.”

“We already have tours booked,” I said, patting my shoulder bag which, thankfully, still sat safely on my shoulder despite the fall. Good thing I’d zipped it up before descending the stairs. “In fact, we should get going. My reservation at the restaurant expires in thirty minutes. It was great to see you, Hunter.”

Jillian’s eyes bored into mine. “Kennedy, it’sHunter. The least we can do is invite him to dinner with us.” She turned back to him. “We’re eating at a fancy restaurant tonight that Kennedy found online. I can’t remember what it’s called.”

“Boutary,” Alexis said. Now she seemed almost bored.

“Yes, that’s it. Will you come? You can tell us what it’s like to live here, Hunter. I’d love to hear your stories.”

Hunter smiled. “Well, I don’t have plans tonight. But I know a cheaper place that isn’t as busy, and the food is just as good. What do you say, ladies? My treat.”

Jillian grinned from ear to ear. “That’s perfect! Let’s do it.”

“Cheaper is good,” Alexis said.

I scowled. It had taken hours of research and planning to get that reservation. Just like Hunter to uproot my plans and dismiss all my hard work.

The others turned to me, and Hunter’s smile broadened as he took in my expression. I knew that stupid grin well. He knew exactly what he was doing, cozying up with my sisters so I couldn’t send him away.

And then he winked.

I cursed under my breath.Infuriating man.Maybe he hadn’t grown up so much after all.

My sisters waited expectantly, so I smoothed my face to avoid giving him any satisfaction. “I guess we could spare a couple of hours.”

Jillian shot me a warning look before turning back to Hunter. “Perfect. You can tell us what to try. Will they have charcuterie? And macaroons?”

“Macarons,” Hunter corrected. His voice sounded deliciously seductive when he said it in a French accent. “And no, they probably won’t. But I’ll take you to my favorite bakery afterward.”

Jillian threw her arms around him. “I knew you wouldn’t let us down. It’s so good to see you. How lucky that we ran into you on our first day. What arethe chances?”

His eyes settled on mine, and I saw a secret beneath the amusement there. “What are the chances, indeed?”

Two hours later,we sat around a tiny table in the window of a bakery around the corner from our hotel. Hunter’s favorite bakery had already closed, but he declared this one equally acceptable. If an adorable pink and blue pastel bakery full of decorative gold chairs that looked like it belonged in a theme park could be deemed “acceptable,” I couldn’t imagine what his favorite bakery would be like.

I tried to imagine coming here every day for a pastry on my way to work—or whatever I wanted to do that day—and smiled to myself.

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