Page 18 of Merritt and Her Childhood Crush
Hunter stands and brushes off his hands, then sees me sitting on the steps of the carriage house.
Can’t go unnoticed now.
I wave half-heartedly. It is the limp gesture of a woman with wine regrets.
“Wait, wait. Is he—are you telling meHunteris the contractor?YourHunter? And you didn’t think that was worth mentioning?”
Sadie’s voice goes shrill, and as Hunter starts this way, I flip the camera back around to show my face, wincing when I realize I still look like roadkill.
“I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you later.”
“Don’t hang up! I want to see this. And for the record, Hunter iswaybetter than Simon.”
Sheofcoursesays this at top volume just as Hunter reaches the porch in all his fitted jeans and tight t-shirt glory.
“Who’s Simon?” he asks, and I want to throw my phone. Or my sister.
“Merritt’s very boring boyfriend,” Sadie says loudly. “Hey, Hunter!”
“It’s Sadie,” I explain with a sigh, though I’m sure he’s put two and two together by now. I turn the phone around so he can see her.
“Hey,” Hunter says, giving an awkward wave.
I turn the phone back around and glare at my sister, who is definitely my least favorite. “Bye, Sadie.”
“Have fun you two! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she says, and I hang up in the middle of her evil laugh.
I put my phone on the step beside me and drop my hands into my lap. I am chill. Calm. Professional. I mean,yes.Minutes ago,I was ogling Hunter like I wanted to order him out of a catalog, but he isn’t exactly playing fair. Walking around with allthatgoing on. Maybe we can pretend like Sadie didn’t just mention the boyfriend I no longer have.
Also—if Sadie disliked Simon so much, why didn’t she mention thisbeforehe cheated and got someone else pregnant?
You wouldn’t have listened anyway.
Yeah, yeah.Shut up, inner Merritt, I think, ignoringagainjust how much inner Merritt sounds like Gran.
“Good morning,” Hunter says. I detect a trace of wariness in his tone. Not that I can blame him after last night. Or just now. A surprise Sadie phone attack is never a good way to start the day.
“Good morning.” I channel New York Merritt and paste on a boardroom-professional smile. “Have you had coffee? I made a whole pot.”
Did I do sojust in caseI had the opportunity to offer said coffee tosomeonewho might want some, and because the list of someonesmight possiblyinclude Hunter? Maybe.
Hunter glances at his watch. “I could probably use another cup.”
His lip twitches the tiniest bit, making the bristles in his beard twitch too. I find myself transfixed by the movement. I’ve never dated a man with facial hair. Which means I’ve neverkisseda man with facial hair.
My brain is suddenly dragged down a wanton alley. Not that alleys are a good place for the kind of kissing I’m imagining, but—
Hunter clears his throat, and I jerk my eyes away from his mouth.
“I didn’t sleep all that well last night,” he says pointedly. He pauses in front of me, halfway up the porch steps.
I suck in a breath but quickly mask my reaction. “No? That’s too bad. Hopefully, more coffee will help.”
I stand up, only remembering my ankle when pain shoots up my leg and I wince. Hunter immediately reaches forward, steadying me with a firm grip on my elbows. The touch sends warmth cascading through me.
He frowns, glancing down. “Is your ankle still bothering you?”
“It’s fine.” I wiggle out of his grasp and try not to limp to the door.
