Page 25 of Meet Me in Paris

Standing, I yanked my hand back. “Thank you, but I don’t care about Paris anymore.”

I grabbed my bag and walked away.

After dinner,we opted to walk back to the hotel. Alexis and Jillian walked side by side ahead of us, their heads together as they engaged in whispered conversation. Probably talking about how awful their big sister was, keeping a secret despite the fact that Alexis barely told us anything about her life. Colorado? How long had she lived there?

Regardless, I had to acknowledge that their bond grew stronger by the day, something I should cheer about. Grandpa wanted that, and likely Mom too. But I was Jillian’s older sister, the one she turned to in times of need. We were the ones who’d cared for Mom in her hard days and planned the funeral together. We’d handled the finances and paid all the debts. We had bonded over the past few years, and Alexis had stayed away for all of it.

“Jillian and Alexis seem to be hitting it off,” Hunter observed, taking a place at my side.

I frowned. “Jillian’s a good soul. She’ll try her hardest to keep Alexis involved. I just hope she doesn’t get hurt.”

Hunter looked down at me. “You think Alexis would hurt her?”

“Why not? She hurts everyone else.”

He pursed his lips in disapproval. “You know, her life hasn’t been all that easy either.”

“And you know that because . . . ?”

“I can tell. Can’t you?”

Turning to stare at Hunter, I took him in. There was only sincerity in his expression, which meant I couldn’t disregard his words.

“I’m not sure,” was all I could say.

That’s when I felt the first raindrop.

Hunter looked at the sky and groaned. “We may need to find a taxi after all.”

A second raindrop hit me square in the face. A third splattered onto my forehead. A second later, the downpour began.

My sisters laughed ahead of us, picked up their skirts, and sprinted away. Both had worn shorter dresses and better shoes for running.

I looked down at my floor-length dress and high heels and groaned. “Lovely.”

Hunter looked around, but there wasn’t a taxi in sight. I felt my hair getting flatter by the second. Rain dripped into my eyes.

“My apartment is nearby,” Hunter said. “We’ll wait out the storm there. Follow me.”

Two blocks later, we plunged through the doors of his building and into a concrete hallway with stairs. Simple but dry.

Hunter headed for the steps. “It’s on the third floor.”

Of course. I hiked up my dress and followed, flinching at the deluge of water that trailed behind me. I’d have to get it dry-cleaned now since I’d need this gown on the ship. Yet another task for tomorrow.

He unlocked his door and swung it wide. The room beyond it was far from perfect, yet screamed Hunter.Organized yet overflowing with his personality. Even the masculine blues, grays, and browns reminded me of him.

“Is this all yours?” I asked.

“I rent it from the owner. But yes, it’s mine.”

I gave him a sideways look. His, as in he lived alone? Or his to share with Collette? This felt like a logical time to ask, but I could feel rainwater dripping down my hair. Surely I could find something dry to wear before asking the most awkward question of my life.

The front room held a sofa in front of a small, wall-mounted TV; a tiny round table with a stack of books covering most of its surface; and a kitchen with a total of six square feet of counter space, though it looked to be spotless. To the side of the kitchen, a large window covered one entire wall, opening up to a tiny balcony over the tree-lined cobblestone street below. Two doors sat open at the opposite end of the room. One, I could see, led to a bathroom with a narrow shower. Through the other, I caught a glimpse of a neatly made bed.

I’d spent hours playing in Hunter’s bedroom as a kid. Even as a teen, I didn’t think anything of lounging on the bean bag chair in his room and throwing stuff at him while he sat on his bed and played the guitar.

But now, I stayed far from the bedroom doorway and the bed that lay beyond it, trying not to wonder about the woman he loved enough to propose to. I didn’t hear any voices, and none of the lights were on before our arrival, so she couldn’t be home.

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