Page 25 of The Mating Game
“The nice lady at the store talked me into some saltwater taffy.”
Hunter makes a face. “That’s bad for your teeth.”
“I’m sorry,” I snort. “Should I have gotten you some Werther’s Original instead, Gramps?”
Cat bursts out laughing, catching my attention. “Wow. I might love you, Tess. I’m glad someone is finally roasting Hunter about his Stone Age ways. Did you know he still carries a flip phone?”
“Iknow,” I guffaw. “I thought I had suddenly time traveled to 2007.”
“So glad the two of you met,” Hunter harrumphs as he frownsdown at us. It’s weird that even his frown does something strange to me.
“Mm-hmm. Especially since you were hiding her,” Cat accuses him. “I think the fact that you have acelebritystaying at the lodge warrants a text.”
“Oh,” I cut in. “I’m not really a—”
“I doubt she wants you guys pressing your noses to the windows like she’s a zoo animal or something.”
“I wouldnot,” Cat huffs. “But this is great, right?” She beams back at me then. “You can get the lodge some amazing exposure, right?”
Hunter frowns back at us both. “I’m sure that she’s not worried about—”
“I mean, I do have some friends over atTravel Quarterwho might—”
“There’s no way any of them would be interested in my dingy little lodge,” Hunter snorts. I feel guilt creeping up at his use ofmyterm, but he looks mostly unperturbed by it. Disinterested, if anything. He shoves his hands into his pockets. “You ready? Jeannie will be cooking dinner before long.”
I nod back at him, his tone cutting off any further discussion. “Yeah. Just let me pay for this scarf and look at the coats really quick.”
“Okay.” He bobs his head in agreement. “I’ll go start the truck.”
We watch him leave the way he came, and I hear Cat’s sigh after the door closes behind him, drawing my attention. “Don’t mind him,” Cat offers. “He’s not nearly as grumpy as he makes himself out to be.”
“Right. I’m sure.”
“How long are you staying, anyway? You should totally comeout to Fred’s with us the next time we go. I mean, if you want. No pressure or anything.”
“Fred’s?”
“Oh, sorry. It’s the only bar in town.” She grimaces. “I know. It’s a terrible name for a bar, but it’s been there for, like, fifty years. The owner refuses to change it. He thinks it’sfun.”
“That sounds awesome, actually,” I tell her honestly.
“Yeah?” Her smile widens as she claps her hands together. “Great! It’s usually just me and my boyfriend, Jarred, and maybe a few locals, but at least you can meet some new people, hopefully? And there’s always dancing, if you dance. Oh, and Paula makes thebestcheese fries in the state. Well, I’m assuming. I haven’t hadeveryrendition, obviously, but I—” She sighs. “Shit. I’m doing it again. I’m sorry. You’re just, like, probably the most famous person to ever visit,” she laughs.
“It’s fine,” I assure her. “Fred’s sounds great. I’d love to come.”
“Awesome!” Cat reaches into her back pocket for her phone. “Can I get your number? I can text you when I figure out when we can come after you for Fred’s. My boyfriend is out of town right now, but he should be back in a week or so. You’ll still be here, right?”
“I will be,” I tell her before I give her my phone number. “That sounds great.”
She taps out a text, and I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. “I can’t believe I have your phone number! I promise not to make you give me an autograph or anything.”
“It’s fine,” I chuckle. “I promise.”
I follow her back to the cash register after she shows me the coats, continuing to happily chat at me from over her shoulder, and I find myself genuinely excited to have made something of a friendhere. Well, someone other than Hunter, that is. If I can even call him a friend—and I’m still not sure I can. It isn’t lost on me that Cat is the second person to hint that the stony innkeeper is warmer than he appears to be.
I find said innkeeper standing by his truck, stoically looking out at the rapidly sinking sun with a serene expression. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and standing like that, he looks younger somehow. Less burdened, if that’s even a thing.
I shrug out of his coat as I approach, and his normal frown colors his lips when I hold it out to him.
