Page 81 of Making New Plans

“What’s next on the agenda?” I asked.

Apparently, more making out with some light groping. But when we came up for air again, he told me about Jameson Hughes. Then said I should make a supply run to my house since he planned to keep me in the lodge until morning again.

The bubbly delight that had been hugging my insides all morning increased.

“I like having you in charge of my schedule,” I teased him.

He grinned and slid his hand under my shirt to let his thumb caress the sensitive small of my back. “Any time.”

The rest of the day flew by. We met with Jameson, a stocky man about Sal’s age with twinkling gray eyes and a robust handlebar mustache. He gave us his 40-year background in construction and said he’d be happy to help us. Hunter seemed to be studying him harder than was warranted, but I figured he did that with most people.

In the end, we set up a loose schedule with him and parted ways. Per Hunter’s suggestion, I went back to my house and packed an overnight bag. I also remembered to text Sarah a heads up. She responded with a thumbs up and winky face.

That night and the next morning were spent topping the night before. I felt like I could broker world peace while eating through an entire buffet to keep up my strength. We’d gone for a walk with Arwen over lunch time and talked nonstop through three laps around the square. Thankfully, no sight of my parents as I was still avoiding my mother’s calls.

That evening I stepped out into the crisp twilight and walked to Rose’s store, Exquisite Moments by Rose Rafferty. It looked like I was the last to arrive, but that was hardly my fault since Hunter kept dragging me into rooms to steal a few moments. Okay, so I’d dragged him into a few rooms, too. Like that one that now needed a new lamp after we’d knocked it over. Ah, that’d been a good room.

With a dreamy smile on my lips, I opened the door and floated through. Rose’s many overhead studio lights shone on the rows of tables and the artwork that lined the walls. Fresh butcher paper lined the tables, and she’d already set up four easels at the corner table by a cluster of paintings and portraits she called “Dreamscapes.” Some were bright and colorful like a sunset and a jungle waterfall, others were darker and more mysterious like the black-and-white portrait of a misty forest at night and a woman peering out of a tall black tower.

I dumped my purse and jacket on a stool and sat next to Sarah, who was absentmindedly picking at a hole in her jeans.

“Finally,” she grumbled but softened it with a smirk. “You seem to be getting held up a lot lately. So unlike you.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? He’s one disruption to my schedule that I can’t seem to mind.”

Gina, wearing a gold poncho over rainbow-colored leggings, folded her arms under her impressive cleavage. “It’s about damn time. No offense, but you have a terrible track record with the most boring guys.”

“None taken because I agree. Hunter’s anything but boring.”

Rose’s lips quirked as she distributed paint brushes and cups of water. “You sound like you like him, Chloe.”

“Well, sure.” I tried to sound flippant, but Sarah narrowed her eyes at me.

“Uh-oh.”

“What?” I asked innocently.

She stabbed a finger in my face. “You really like him.”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, we’re not doing the whole ‘do you like like him?’ thing.”

Gina’s eyes widened. “Oh my lord, you do.” She let out a gusty laugh and reached over the table to give me a high-five, which I reluctantly returned. “Oh, our little Chloe is finally spreading her wings again.”

“Among other things,” Rose added with a mischievous grin.

I gawked at her. “Rose! I can’t believe that just came out of your mouth!”

“Seconded,” Sarah said, grabbing a nearby wine bottle and pouring us each a glass.

Rose turned her tiny nose up in the air and pranced around to her stool, flipping out her gauzy black dress before sitting down. “I’m not nearly the prude you all seem to think I am.”

Gina put her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Prove it, Rosey.”

Rose pushed her lips together primly, but her dark eyes had a steely edge to them. “I will if you will, Gina Bambina.”

While Rose and Gina guzzled wine and compared notes on their dating apps, Sarah glanced at me over the rim of her wine glass. I slowly sipped mine. I didn’t want to be totally impaired when I walked home…er, to Hunter’s room. He’d said he was going to the Twisted Oak for a bit to read, sketch, and hang out with Owen. Then he was going to wait up for me. Just the anticipation of it had my toes curling in my boots.

“You know I’m not going to tell you what to do, Chloe,” Sarah started.

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