Page 36 of Baby, It's You
“That’sthe name you spent days working on?” I ask him, brows raised.
He holds up both hands, showing mock offense. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. This ismyrelationship with my car, remember. Only I know what name is worthy of it, and I choose Old Fart.”
“Okay, if you say so. Old Fart it is.” I smirk and surrender. “Come on in.”
I scoot out of the way so he can enter, secretly checking him out from behind. Today he has on a short-sleeved blue henley with the top two buttons open, a black beanie, and tan pants. His curls pop out the bottom of his beanie and I have the urge to rip it off and tousle my hand through his hair.
I realize he has something behind his back when he quickly moves so I can't see it and then turns towards me.
“I have something for you.” Hunter’s eyes light up with mischief.
“You do?” I say with a hint of fear in my voice. I don’t do well with presents or surprises; I just hate being put on the spot in general. That probably stems from my childhood, with my mom popping up with a new boyfriend every other week. That random guy would then toss a Barbie or a crappy candy bar in my direction to try and impress me so they could get in good with her.
“Close your eyes,” Hunter says, stepping closer.
I reluctantly comply and I can feel his warmth as he stands right in front of me now.
“Put out your hands,” he whispers, his voice rough and breath minty. I can feel goose bumps forming up my arms and I hope he doesn’t notice.
I lay my hands out and feel something long and metal in them. It feels kind of like a knife. I open my eyes.What the…itisa knife.
“You got me a knife?” I ask.
His face is full of excitement. “Yeah! A butter knife!” he exclaims.
I awkwardly smile and laugh a little bit, unsure how to accept the gift. Then I see his face start to fall.
“I am just now realizing how creepy it is to give a woman a knife as a present. I literally just stood outside the bar, in the early morning, with a knife hidden behind my back to surprise you. My bad.” He looks like a sad puppy trying to explain the gift to me. “I was at the thrift store yesterday and I saw this knife and it made me think of you because you love butter. When I saw it had flowers all down the sides and you have a flower tattoo, I knew I needed to get it for you.” He runs his hand across his brow, obviously stressing now.
I feel my face warm at the mention of my tattoo. I look down at the silver knife and notice that it is beautifully etched with flowers. He noticed such a small detail about me after only being around me a handful of times. It’s incredibly flattering, but I also don't want to give him the wrong impression. The gift shows he has been thinking about me and though I might like it, it's not something I should accept. Seeing him recoil with embarrassment snaps me out of my thoughts, though.
“This is so cool. I can’t wait to enjoy a bucket of butter with this bad boy,” I say, shaking the knife. “You’re so thoughtful. I’m glad we are becoming friends. Thank you.” I smile at him, trying to convince myself that it didn’t feel like poison sliding off my tongue when I called him afriend.
He seems unsure by what I said, but plays it off quickly and gives me a small smirk in response. “Well, glad to know that gift made thechopping block.”Hunter raises his eyebrows and wiggles them at me as I groan at the awful dad joke.
“I think you should be called Old Fart, not the car, because that joke was horrible. What are you? Geriatric?”
“Getting up there. I turn thirty in a few months.”
“Interesting.” I look him up and down playfully. “I did see a few grey hairs last time you took your hat off.”
His eyes twinkle as he laughs. “Well that’s good, because I want to be a silver fox one day.”
“Oh god. That’s what Rick calls himself when he wears the fox mask at the bar.”
“Sweet grandpa-vibes Rick?”
“Yeah, he was a real stud back in the day apparently. He wore bell-bottoms every day and was in a band back in the ’60s.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Nope. Ask him for photos next time you see him, he will love you forever.” I laugh.
His gaze lingers on my mouth, and I feel exposed, vulnerable under his glance. It seems like he notices me in a deeper way than just my appearance.
Turning away, I go and set the butter knife on the counter. “Alright, so you ready to get started?”
Hunter clears his throat. “You bet. Show me our next story.”
