Page 22 of Making New Plans

I spun around as Hunter quickly removed his hand from my elbow, concern cracking through his stone mask.

“I asked if you were all right,” he said.

“Oh, uh, yeah, everything’s great. The event is going really well, don’t you think?”

Hunter frowned, his eyes studying my face as if reading an instruction manual. I could almost hear his mind churning over information, sorting through details, and making decisions without input. But I didn’t want him to see how hurt I was by the confrontation. Those bits of me felt too fragile for his casual perusal.

Finally, he sighed. “Yes, Chloe, I think you did an amazing job with it.”

I blushed at the unexpected compliment. I wasn’t really one to keep score, but despite the hours of hard work I dedicated to the town and its events, I rarely got much more than a thank-you. Most people, excluding Owen and Louis, usually assumed that I would help and therefore only deserved the minimum gratitude. Sometimes it was okay to want more, right?

“Thank you,” I said quickly when I realized I’d been staring at him, dumbfounded.

We kept standing there, Arwen leaning against his leg.

“So, who was the guy?”

All previous good thoughts about Hunter evaporated. “Just a guy.”

“An ex, then.”

I scowled, suddenly hating his intuitiveness. “And?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never seen you be less than a ray of sunshine to someone other than me. I wondered what he could’ve possibly done to deserve it.”

“A hell of a lot more than you have. But if you keep pushing me, you could even the score.”

He leaned toward me, his caramel-colored eyes smoldering with a heat that melted the strength in my legs. “Maybe I want to keep pushing you.”

I caught my breath. What the hell did that mean?

“Uh, hey, guys.” We jerked apart at the sound of Sarah’s voice.

She stared at me, her wide eyes brimming with questions. I sighed inwardly. No way was she letting this go. Belatedly, I noticed Carter and Owen behind her.

I pasted on a bright smile. “Hey, what’s up?”

Owen stepped forward. “I just talked with Carter and Wyatt. Wyatt’s a friend of ours and the sheriff,” he added by way of explanation to Hunter, I assumed. “Anyway, we were thinking of heading over to his place for a bonfire and a barbecue in a couple hours when things wrap up here. Louis can’t make it. Said he wants to make sure the animals get settled. But, Hunter, you game?”

Before Hunter could respond and probably offend Owen, I stepped in. “Oh, Owen, he actually—”

“—would love to,” Hunter cut in.

Owen smiled and muttered something to Carter that sounded like “Told you so.” Carter’s grumpy expression didn’t change.

My gaze bounced back to Hunter. His locked jaw and squared shoulders dared me to challenge him. Was I missing something? I’d been ready with an excuse to get him out of further socializing. Something a friend would do. But maybe he didn’t want to be friends. Maybe he only wanted to do what he’d said earlier—to push me.

When I remained silent, he smirked and sauntered off with Owen, Carter, and Arwen as if he’d just won the gold medal in the Upper-Hand Olympics.

Sarah shoved her shoulder against mine. “You have some explaining to do. And I already texted Gina and Rose that you two were pretty much having an angry makeout session over here, so there’s no getting out of answering our questions.”

I groaned and covered my face. Could everyone see it? That a small, secret part of me lit up when he pushed my buttons? At the very least, I hoped he didn’t know. I would have no peace if he did.

8

Hunter

I had a much harder time letting go of Arwen’s leash than I thought I would. Growing up, I’d always wanted a dog, a companion, more than anything. But every birthday and Christmas, no puppy popped out of a loosely covered box like I’d seen on TV. Then, when I was finally on my own and could afford one, my excuses piled up. Too busy. Too confined. Too something.

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