Page 10 of Love and Pumpkins
“How often do you go into the office?”
“It’s not mandatory to go in at all. Except for a few meetings with the big bosses.”
“That’s nice,” Chloe says.
“What do you do, Chloe?” Hunter asks.
“I work for the county park district,” Chloe replies. “I arrange classes, activities,and trips.”
“Cool.”
As they talk, I listen closely to Hunter’s responses. There’s an undercurrent in his answers. There’s more to his story than he’s sharing. I want to ask more questions, and I hope that I’ll have the opportunity at some point this weekend. Sure, mysteries are fun, but I want answers. Hunter’s a puzzle to solve.
When I first saw him this morning, I thought this was going to be the worst weekend ever. But now that the shock has worn off and I’ve seen him in action, cheering me on, helping customers, and whatnot, I’m intrigued to learn more. His arrogance and drive to be the smartest guy in the room have mellowed since high school. I’m finding this new Hunter to be charming and handsome.
Completely unexpected, yet a welcome distraction from my financial worries. I’ll take the reprieve.
Chapter Five
Arriving at the festival site Saturday morning, I park and take a stroll through the vendor booths before heading to my own. I was hoping to find a hanging crocheted plant holder, but no luck. I might have to learn to crochet to get exactly what I want. Maybe I can convince Chloe to schedule a class at the county recreation center. I’m probably not the only one eager to learn.
The heat broke overnight, and it feels like fall, enough so that I bought a pumpkin spice latte at the coffee shop before driving to the fairgrounds.
Driving here, I admired the colors of the trees. The red, orange, and yellow leaves are marvelous indicators of the changing season, a reminder to prepare for winter and expect a slower pace. Soon, homeowners will rake and burn fallen leaves. I’ll enjoy the smoky smell and remember the fun I had as a child, running and jumping in massive piles of leaves.
Living in a commercial building on Main Street, I don’t have a yard, and this is the one time of the year I’m thankful that I don’t. I have enough to worry about with bills, furnaces, and batches of soap. I’m glad I don’t have the exhausting task of keeping up with leaf removal.
I see Hunter when I’m still several booths away. He’s wearing an orange sweatshirt and khaki shorts. The shirt is going to make his green eyes pop. My cheeks flush, and I want to run forward to see.
Why am I thinking about his eyes? To distract myself, I stop to chat with the woman selling book-related T-shirts, stickers, and reading accessories. She has adorable “Date With a Mystery Book” packages with books wrapped in craft paper and hints about the book inside. Before leaving her booth, I purchase a sticker that says, “Go away, I’m reading” to put on my Kindle cover.
As I leave her booth, I remember the conversation with Hunter last night. I’m curious to ask him whether he’s happy living in the big city. I have a feeling he’s not. Call it women’s intuition. Call it a hunch.
“Good morning,” I say as I approach. His back is to me, so I don’t want to startle him.
He spins and grins. I was right; his eyes are enthralling.
“Hi,” he says. “How are you this morning?”
“Great. I appreciate the fall weather. Appropriate for a pumpkin fest. How are you?”
“I’m good.” He nods, like he’s agreeing with himself. “Ready to sell some suds. I charged the credit card reader, so I won’t be harassing you as much today.”
“I didn’t mind your harassing me.” I shrug. “Could be worse.”
“Yeah?”
I laugh. “You could have been one of my exes.”
Shoot. Where did that come from? I don’t want to talk about anyone’s exes. His. Mine. Or anyone’s.
Backpedal! Before I can change the subject, Hunter steps closer.
“Now, there’s a topic I would love to explore more.” A lopsided grin brightens his face.
“Nope.” I shake my head. “Not going there. Forget I said that word. Now, leave me alone; I have work to do.”
I turn my back and take a deep breath. It’s time for the latte to kick in! Any more slips of the tongue like that, and I’ll collapse from the mortification.
