“You should have seen him!” Hunter’s dad, Jared, slaps his knee. His cheeks are as red as the T-shirt he’s wearing as he tells the story about little Hunter trying to catch a greased pig at the county fair. “He dove! Head first! When the pig dodged, the poor kid landed face first in shit!”
Zip lifts his head at the raised tone before huffing and laying back down at Hunter’s feet.
“Language,” his wife, Lydia, scolds. The laughter dies and Dahlia sips from her wineglass as they sit around the coffee table in the living space. “So Dahlia. Hunter hasn’t said much about you, well I guess he couldn’t have given he only called a month ago.” She gives her son a sorrowful look and Hunter dips his chin, playing with the whiskey glass in his hands.
“Well,” Dahlia says, setting her glass down. “I own Dreaming of Dahlia’s, one of the most popular florist shops around. I graduated from college with an art degree and became a master florist after that.”
Lydia wears a modest high-necked dress and purses her lips at Dahlia’s words.
“Mom,” Hunter says, pulling the skepticism from Dahlia and toward himself. “I’m glad you’re here.”
That admission cracks his mother’s hard exterior, and she reaches across the table, gripping her son’s hands. “Of course I’d come, sweetie. We’ve missed you so much and Laura—well, she—”
Hunter’s gaze cuts to Dahlia and he shakes his head.
“Lydia,” Jared says with a warning in his tone.
Dahlia glances between the tick in Hunter’s jaw and his exasperated mother. Dahlia’s heart sinks and her palms begin to sweat. She only has herself to blame. She never thought to ask if there was anyone else he left when he moved away. But you know what they say about making assumptions.
“It wasn’t just us you left, you know. Doesn’t she deserve some kind of explanation? A phone call? Something?” Lydia asks. Jared places his hand on his wife’s leg and Dahlia goes rigid. Hunter rips away from his mother and sits back in his seat, running an exhausted hand over his face.
The reunion had been seemingly sweet until now. Granted, Lydia has studied Dahlia with hard eyes since Hunter introduced his friend, but nothing has made him react like this. Jared was quick to pull Dahlia into a hug after his son. She’s never seen a man laugh as much as he does.
Dahlia takes in the change in the room. Hunter’s dad’s smile drops and Lydia stares with hardened eyes and a furrowed brow at her son. Dahlia can’t fight the urge to reach out and take Hunter’s hand, to show she’s there and he’s okay.
He glances at her touch and intertwines his fingers with hers.
“Who’s Laura?” Dahlia asks, taking control of the conversation. If it is an ex-girlfriend or fiancé, she reassures herself it’s all in the past. His past. And none of it matters.
Lydia purses her lips and takes a steadying breath. “She’s the woman Hunter promised he would come home to. Then he left the moment he got back.”
Dahlia’s chest tightens along with her fingers, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Hunter leans onto his knees, refusing to loosen his hold on his girl’s hand.
“I told her I was leaving. I told her she deserved to find someone who cared about her, because I didn’t. How much clearer did you want me to be? Did you really travel all the way here to bring this up?” Hunter’s voice turns cold.
“Son, of course not. We’re just happy you called.” Jared offers a soft smile and drapes an arm around his wife’s shoulders.
“You can thank Dahlia for that. She’s changed my life. She’s helped me so much.”
His declaration makes her blush, and she drops her chin so a curtain of curls hides her features.
The room falls silent until the oven dings.
“I’ll get it,” Dahlia says hurriedly. The familiar sound of Hunter’s limp comes into the kitchen behind her and he wraps his arms around her waist, Zip right behind him.
“I meant what I said, little flower. Don’t let anything she says make you think otherwise. In her mind, I left and came back to the same person. She doesn’t understand and honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Laura has been over at family dinner every Sunday since.”
Dahlia pulls the casserole out and sets it on the counter. “Remind me to never let you go back to Tennessee alone.”
Hunter nuzzles her neck and she giggles. He was so worried about how she’d react to his mom bringing up his past. But just like she does with everything, she’s the definition of elegance and grace. Taking everything in stride and not faltering. At least not from the outside looking in.
“Do you regret it?” she asks.
He sighs, his breath hot against her sensitive skin. “No. If nothing else, this is the closure mom needed that I’ve changed. I’m happy, safe, and have made something of myself here.”
“And they’re going to stay here for a month…” Dahlia lets her voice trail off and spins in his arms. “Also, friend?”
“How did you want me to introduce you? Girlfriend? Lover?” He squeezes her hips like she loves and her lips part. “Future Haynes?” There’s a hint of mischief in his honey iris’.
“Hunter,” Dahlia breathes out. They haven’t even said the four-letter word yet. She’s never let a man into her life as much as Hunter is. To be a part of her business and opening herself up. She’s certainly never told a man she loves him. The level of vulnerability that brings terrifies her.
“Dahlia,” he says in the same tone. He kisses her forehead and stands to his full height. “Dinner’s ready!” he shouts and her mouth hangs open as he winks and turns to the table already set for four people.
Yes, because she can totally eat and act normal after that conversation.
Surprisingly, Lydia doesn’t mention the woman from Hunter’s past the rest of the night. Were they a tragic high school sweethearts tale? Dahlia feels pity for the love-struck teenager who clung to the promise her boyfriend would return from the war. It’s the kind of stuff they make movies about, but Laura didn’t get her happy ending. Dahlia took her place.
After dinner and two more bottles of wine, Hunter shows his parents to the room they’ll be staying in and then leads Dahlia to the front porch swing, grabbing a blanket off the couch as he walks by.
They sway slowly, staring at the stars decorating the sky like a million Christmas lights. Zip runs around the yard, nose to the ground as he stretches his legs from the tense evening.
“Will you stay?” Hunter asks.
“I stay all the time.” Dahlia rolls her eyes.
He rubs on his thigh. A tale she’s learned means his uncomfortable. She’ll be the person he needs right now. Not out of guilt, but because, honestly, there isn’t anywhere else she wants to be.
“I’ll stay,” she assures him and snuggles into his side. They’ll have to talk about what he said earlier.
Mrs. Dahlia Haynes.
She chews on her lip, unsure if she likes the sound of that or not.