Page 39 of Making New Plans

Oh, I knew. I hadn’t dated since the Davis dumping. Not finding time for it was easy with the lodge, the committees, etc. Not finding the willpower was, sadly, even easier. Putting myself out there again had rarely occurred to me, despite my mother’s grumblings.

I grasped at straws. “But, like you said, Gina, he’s leaving and—”

“There will always be excuses not to,” she interrupted. “All we’re saying is to see if something is there. Explore. Let yourself have some fun. Be smart but let loose.”

Mulling it over, I watched her loop my hair into an effortless bun, tendrils draping over my neck.

Explore. Have fun. Could I do that?

Snapshots of Hunter flew through my mind like a flipbook. Smiling Hunter, Helpful Hunter, Laughing Hunter, Flirtatious Hunter, Shirtless Hunter.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try.

14

Chloe

Every step back to the lodge wore my confidence down to a grain. Probably the by-product of never measuring up to parental ideals. No doubt a psychologist would have a field day with that.

Regardless of reason, doubts crept in. What should I say to him? “Hey, you’re hot, but I need to find out if you’re nice and interested in me as well?” My last two serious relationships had just kind of happened. Hmm. Now that I thought about it, I’d met both of them through my parents.

My college boyfriend, Jason, had been the son of friends of my parents. He’d introduced himself as much at a party, and things flowed from there. He’d been nice. We’d hung out a couple nights a week, slept with each other once a week, went to parties, and attended holidays together back home with our parents. In the end, he’d met someone else senior year, and we’d broken up. Just like that.

I’d cried and struggled to understand, but he’d only said, “Our relationship only ever felt like something we had to do, instead of wanted to do. You know?”

No, I didn’t know. I’d thought things were fine. That that was how relationships were, but then again, I didn’t have prime examples in that department.

So, I’d moved on, and my parents introduced me to Davis when I came home from college. He’d seemed perfect: handsome, charming, ambitious, much more fun than Jason. I tried to do all the fun, exciting things that every lifestyle internet article said to do to keep up a happy relationship. But everyone knew how that had turned out.

Needless to say with these oh-so-happy thoughts nesting in my head, I wasn’t even sure what I wanted when I arrived back at the front desk. Everything was quiet. I did some work in the office. Skimmed the books. Printed out more Tangled River maps that Rose had drawn up for me. I liked to hand them out to guests. Then I did a loop around the lodge, running through mental checklists. Everything was fine.

Still disconcerted, I shrugged back into my jacket and walked the grounds. Empty beach. Empty firepit. Empty woods.

Then I heard a crash and a colorful oath.

The noise came from the old Erickson residence I’d just walked past. I backtracked and noticed the screen door hanging open. I hadn’t ventured in there since the funeral. Sal had told me to let it be, so I had.

Stepping through the open door, I peered inside. I’d only been here a few times when Mr. Erickson was alive. Never really had the desire to go back. The smell of stale beer and cigarettes mixed with a layer of dust had been a terrific deterrent. Not to mention the crass old man who’d lived there.

Glass breaking with another blistering string of expletives came from where I remembered the kitchen to be. I followed the noise, stepping gingerly across the cluttered floor.

Hunter stood in the middle of the dim kitchen with a large trash can. He grabbed a few of the beer bottles that appeared to be the main decoration, resting on the cabinets, counters, in the sink, and even on the yellow-tiled floor. Then he hurled the bottles into the trash can. I winced as they shattered.

“Damn you, you son of a—” He turned and saw me standing in the doorway. Taking a quick step back, he bumped into the trash can. “What are you doing here? Spying again?”

I shook my head. “I heard the glass. Are you okay?”

His expression looked like he could murder someone without getting any blood on the already-stained tiles. “I’m fine. Dandy. Please leave.”

The bitterness in his gold-flecked eyes held me in painful captivity. I took a step closer. “Why did you come in here? Were you looking for something?”

His jaw clenched and unclenched. No doubt weighing the pros and cons of marching me out. Then he relented. “Tennis balls. I remembered we had a bag in a closet and wanted to grab one for Arwen the next time I walk her.”

I inched closer to him, not sure if I was being completely idiotic or not. But I felt like I needed to be there at that moment. “I’m sure I can find something. Why don’t you come back to the lodge?”

“I said I’m fine.” His gaze telegraphed other messages I couldn’t interpret. Why didn’t he ever just say what he was thinking?

I glanced down. “No, you’re not. You’re bleeding.”

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