Page 42 of Making New Plans

His head swiveled toward me like an owl. “For me?” he whispered.

“Yes,” I whispered back.

He was staring at me again, unraveling me at the seams. But I didn’t want that to happen. Not yet, when I was making such headway with him.

I needed to stay together, so I aimed for a sore spot. “Why do you want to sell the lodge?”

He pressed his lips together, disappointment flashing in his eyes. “Do we have to dredge this up now?”

“I don’t want to fight. I really just want to know.”

He reclined against the bench, tilting his face to the starry night sky. “Besides my well-known aversion to this town and this place, I want the money to open my own architecture firm.”

My eyebrows rose. “Really? Why?”

He studied me for a moment, as if to assess whether I was genuinely curious or not. “Because I want to call my own shots. I want to develop my own brand, my own client list. Take on only the projects I want.”

“Makes sense. You don’t seem the happy-to-follow-orders type.”

His lips quirked. “Are you saying I’m not excelling in shadowing you?”

“No, you’re actually doing really well. I’ve never trained someone for my position. It’s always just been me. But what I meant was, I can’t picture you letting someone dictate your work to you every day.”

He shrugged. “It’s always been the end goal. But student loans are a pain, so it’s taking a while to build up the savings to do it.”

“What would it look like if you got it?”

Hunter shifted, unwrapping his blanket a bit. “I’m not sure yet. Getting there is good enough for now.”

I didn’t really believe that last bit, but he asked me a question before I could call it out.

“Have you always wanted to be a lodge manager?”

I smiled and snuggled into my blanket. His arm lifted to lay across the back of the bench, dangerously close to my shoulders.

“No,” I said. “When I was little, I wanted to be a doctor. I thought it’d be the coolest job, to help and heal people like some kind of superhero.”

“What changed your mind, Super Doctor?”

“My brother was kind enough to show me some pictures of surgeries, amputations, and shots with gigantic needles. That cured me from ever wanting to go to the doctor let alone be one.”

Hunter chuckled. “Your brother sounds ornery.”

“He was. Still is, I’m sure. Flynn never really cared what kind of trouble he got into as long as he had fun doing it. I’m more of a rule-follower.”

Hunter hmm’d, glancing down at me. “You’ve got a bit of a rebel in you, I think.”

An unwelcome memory sprang up in my mind like a jack-in-the-box. My blue-streaked hair and punk rock makeup. The stage. Their faces.

“What was that right there?” he asked softly. “The thought you just had that made your lips turn down.”

My heart jolted in surprise. I couldn’t share that with him. Sarah and I didn’t even speak of it. Nobody did anymore.

“Please,” he whispered.

Oh, hell. I turned my face to the sky, consequently letting my head rest ever-so-lightly on his arm. He didn’t complain, and it was easier to bare my soul to the stars.

“It was senior year,” I started out, my voice raw and scratchy. “We had a talent show. Sarah, Carter, and I decided to form a band and perform a few rock songs. Sarah was the amazing singer, Carter was backup vocals and the guitarist, and I was on the drums.” I paused, but Hunter said nothing. The more words that tumbled out, the smoother they came. “We decided to really do it up right. We dyed our hair, Carter green, Sarah pink, me blue. Sarah and I did our makeup a la Amy Lee and Avril Lavigne. Carter even wore some eyeliner, and if you ever tell him I told you that, they’ll never find your body.”

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