Chapter Fifteen

“You made me a Damn Aussie pie?” Hunter asked, confused by the name of the delicious-looking baked good Bella handed him on his doorstep. Her unexpected visit was just what the doctor ordered. Literally, so to speak, since Kennedy had no doubt prompted Bella’s visit. Hunter had promised himself to have an open mind where the cute medical assistant was concerned.

She laughed. “No, but that’s funny. I said Banoffee. Baaan-off-eee. It’s a combination of bananas and toffee.”

He nodded. “That makes much more sense. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I hope you don’t mind me stopping by on my lunch break. Kennedy mentioned you’d be home.”

Yep. What the doctor ordered. Hunter, you smart devil, you. “Not at all. Want to sit?” He gestured toward the cushioned armchairs.

“I’d love to.” She wore a puffy jacket over her scrubs so she should be okay in the cool afternoon air.

“Great. I’ll go grab two forks and be right back.” He returned half a minute later. “It’s a perfect day to have pie for lunch.” The smell alone had his tastebuds singing. He didn’t bother with plates, figuring they’d share right from the plate. Bella seemed to like the idea, her eyes sparkling when he handed her a fork and nothing else.

“It’s not my first time,” she said.

“Not mine, either. I’ve never had baaan-off-eee pie before, though. Did I mention it looks and smells great?” He dug his fork in at the same time she did.

“I’m glad you think so. It’s my favorite thing to bake.”

He moaned as his first bite tasted better than anything he’d had in a long time. Except for the sandwich Callie had made him. And the Pop-Tart she’d warmed up. “You could weaponize this and end hate in the world.” The flirty compliment helped remind him he was moving on from Callie and on a mission to find love and help her business thrive at the same time.

“You think?” she said around a smile.

“If anyone who eats this isn’t immediately full of happiness, then they’re not human. How come I’ve never heard of this pie before?”

“It’s popular in London, not here.”

“Is that where you’re originally from?” Every now and then, he detected a faint British accent from her. He liked it. Not as much as he liked Callie’s voice, but— Dude, can you stop thinking about Callie for one second?

Bella leaned back in her chair, content to let him keep eating without her. He appreciated her kindness considering she had made the dish especially for him. “I am. Moved to the States when I was seven, but we often go back to visit family.”

“‘We’ being your parents?”

“My mum and brother. They live in San Francisco.”

He set the pie on his lap, thinking he’d save the rest for later to share with Callie. “How did you end up in Windsong?”

“Funny story. I was driving to Santa Barbara to visit my roommate from college when I saw the sign for Windsong. I thought it sounded like a town I’d like to visit, so I took a little detour. I was in the bookstore when I met Kennedy and we struck up a conversation. And longer story short, here I am.” She spoke with her hands and dropped them in her lap when finished.

He was interested in the longer story but let it go. “Kennedy sings your praises.”

“She does the same for you. How are you feeling, by the way?”

“Better, thanks to your pie.” He hadn’t meant for that to sound flirty, but the blush filling her cheeks told a different story. “And the company,” he added with sincerity. “Callie’s been keeping a good eye on me, too.”

“I heard that. She’s the woman who was with you when you came in the other day?”

“That’s her.”

“Are you two…?”

“No.” He shook his head. That wish would remain just that. Thinking it and feeling it were two different things, though, and no matter how much Bella presented the perfect opportunity to move on, he couldn’t make himself go there. Yet.

Restless silence passed between them.

“Have you ever done a corn maze?” he asked, determined to end this impromptu visit on a good note.

“I haven’t, no.”

“A group of us is planning to go. They do one at the Brand ranch every year. Would you like to join us?”

“I’d love to.”

“Great. It’s a date.” He ignored the sour feeling in his stomach from the word “date” and took another bite of pie.

…

All Vivian Fisher wanted to know about was the best man suit, and it pissed Hunter off—not because he minded talking about it, but because she’d lured him to this interview under the pretext of discussing the ambassador competition.

“You’re saying you believe in Callie Carmichael’s luck with wedding party attire?” the reporter from the Windsong Gazette asked.

He believed in Callie. “Yes.”

“The single women of Windsong are already lining up given your reputation as the town’s most eligible bachelor.”

“I haven’t noticed.” He had, but he didn’t need to feed into his least-favorite status in town.

Miss Fisher leaned back in her chair with her brown eyes narrowed like she didn’t believe him. They were sitting by the window in Baked on Main, the only good thing about this scenario the smell of Claudia’s baked goods and the two glazed donuts he’d scarfed down to settle his nerves. The Gazette liked to embellish, and he didn’t like his love life exaggerated.

“Modesty makes you more appealing, Hunter.”

He shrugged.

“I did some digging, and Callie’s track record with maid of honor dresses is interesting, to say the least. Does being the first best man to wear her clothes add any pressure?”

“Some I suppose.” He wanted the best for her, no matter what.

“I imagine it’s going to take a special girl to date you after the wedding, what with all eyes on the relationship.”

His stomach roiled. He did want a relationship, but the thought of truly moving on from Callie hurt. “I thought this interview was about me and the ambassador position?” He felt bad about his gruff tone the second after the question left his mouth.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Why is the ambassador position so important to you?”

“Because I love this town.” And being ambassador would give him the respect he craved. It would allow him to serve his hometown with distinction and seriousness. “I want to make a difference and be looked at differently.”

“All the finalists love the town. What sets you apart?”

He thought about that. “I’m a fourth-generation Windsonger, and I think that qualifies me to speak about the past as well as the future. I want to keep our town’s unique and interesting attributes alive and well. And I embody small town pride and values.”

She smiled. He’d never met her before today, a recent transplant from Los Angeles, she’d told him. Around his age, he guessed. A glint in her eye that told him she wasn’t all business. He also had to admit her smile was friendlier than he’d given her credit for earlier.

“The ambassador is expected to represent Windsong in an unbiased manner and not use the position to advance their own endeavors. You recently started a boot camp?”

“That’s correct.” He wasn’t about to justify her rude remark with anything but a positive response. She was just doing her job. “We’re planning to offer free weeklong camps to underprivileged kids soon. You’re welcome to come see what that’s about when we do.”

He meant it. Kids brought out the best in everyone and bonus points if she decided to write about it.

“Thank you. I just might.” She leaned forward, her elbows on the small, round table. “Aside from the boot camp, you help your family run the ranch and inn. It’s impressive moving from cattle to one of the most premier guest houses on the West Coast.”

“I’ll pass along the compliment.”

“What do you do just for you?”

He blinked.

She chuckled at his blank expression. “I’ve met your type a few times. You work hard. Put others first and are loyal to a fault. Am I right?”

“I ride my horse,” he countered, not sure he liked that she’d pegged him so well.

“I should have guessed that. What’s his or her name?”

“Her name is Rebel. You ever ride?”

“Are you asking me to go riding with you?”

In his periphery, someone bumped into the table next to them before taking a seat. The flash of red hair told him who it was. She also made his pulse speed up. “Hi, Hunt,” his sister said, sitting across from Callie at the other table.

“Hey, Nova. Hey, Callie.” Callie smiled back in acknowledgment. “This is Vivian Fisher.” He gestured toward his tablemate. “She’s a reporter with the Gazette doing a piece on the ambassadorship.”

“Callie Carmichael?” she asked.

Callie turned to look at Vivian. “Yes.”

Vivian sat taller. “This is great. Do you mind if I ask you a question or two? I’m so intrigued by your dressmaking business and reputation. You’re also in the ambassador running, correct?”

For a split second, Callie’s eyes met his. They’d talked this morning about their friendly rivalry and their next assignments. Even gave each other a high five for luck. He flexed his hand underneath the table, remembering the feel of her soft fingers against his rough ones. “That’s right,” she said.

“It’s common knowledge you’re making your first best man suit for Hunter. How does it feel?”

“Good. It’s easy to dress someone like him.”

“How so?”

“He’s very agreeable is all.” She focused back on her glazed croissant. “Not that bridesmaids aren’t, too, but they can be more challenging.”

“I’m sure. Will you be putting the same butterfly applique in his suit as you do your maid of honor dresses?”

“I will, yes.”

“Do you think it will work?” she asked.

Callie took her time before answering. “I believe in magic myself, but nothing can be counted on to work every single time.”

“It will work,” Hunter said.

Vivian turned her attention to him. “Sounds to me like that’s the magic—the wearer’s willingness to find love.”

“Definitely,” he and Callie said at the same time. He couldn’t help it; he grinned at her.

“Did you two know each other before this?” Vivian asked, even though it was obvious, wasn’t it? And if she were any kind of reporter, she knew about his spider bite and arrangement with Callie.

“We’ve known each other since we were teenagers,” Hunter said. He’d almost spouted fourteen years, three months, but that would make him a total creeper.

“Callie is my best friend,” Nova offered. “And Hunter is my brother, so she’s been part of our family for a long time.”

Vivian turned in her seat to face Callie and Nova more fully. “Interesting. Callie, you must feel some extra incentive, then, to help Hunter find the woman he’s going to marry.”

“Yes and no.” Callie glanced down at Vivian’s cell phone, face up on their table and recording the conversation. “Yes, because Hunter does want to get married and settle down. But no because he has no trouble meeting women.”

“I can’t help it if they find me irresistible,” he teased, owning his reputation for a moment, mostly because he wanted to see Callie’s reaction. She rolled her eyes.

“You sure don’t seem to be lacking in confidence.” Vivian took a sip of her coffee. “One last question, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Go ahead,” he said.

“What does this soul mate of yours look like? I’m sure our readers would be interested to know who might finally lasso Hunter Owens.”

Red hair. Green eyes. Unforgettable laugh.

It took superhuman strength, but he did not glance at Callie. “I’m not sure, but I’ll know her when I see her.”

Vivian stopped the recording. “Thanks for taking the time to speak with me, Hunter.” She slid her business card across the table as she stood. “Call me if you change your mind about that ride. I love horses.” She gave him a look that said she’d be up for more than one kind of ride before turning to his sister and Callie. “Nice to meet you both. Callie, I’m super interested in the story developing with Hunter’s suit. I also assume you’re designing the maid of honor dress?” Callie nodded. “Could we set up another time to talk? I could highlight your business and the touch of magic everyone seems to believe in.”

“That would be great. Thank you.” She accepted a business card from Vivian.

“Wonderful. I’ll reach out soon.” She set her eyes back on him and bit her lower lip just a little before turning to go. Her high heels click-clacked and her hips swayed as she walked away.

“Seriously?” Nova said. “Is there not one woman alive who doesn’t want to see you naked?”

When Callie didn’t say “me,” he took it as a win and puffed out his chest. “I can’t help it.”

“That’s it. We’re doing it,” Nova said. “And you’re helping,” she told Callie.

“What are we doing?” Callie asked. She carefully tucked Vivian’s card in her purse.

“We need to act fast so we can have it ready for Christmas.”

“What are we doing?” Callie repeated. Her eyes met his for help, but he had no idea what his sister was talking about, either. He shook his head and lifted a shoulder.

“A calendar. I’ve been wanting to help raise funds for the Botanical Society, and this is how we can do it.”

“Flowers are pretty, Nov, but kind of boring for a calendar,” he said.

“Not if shirtless guys are holding the flowers.” She grinned from ear to ear.

Aw, shit. He knew that grin. It was the one she gave right before asking him to do something he didn’t want to do. “No.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not doing it.” He had a serious image to cultivate that did not include taking his shirt off for a calendar, even for a good cause.

Nova ignored him and addressed her best friend. “We can totally do this, Cal. We just need twelve guys who will wear jeans and nothing else and hold a flower. In their hand or their teeth. In their pocket.” She waggled her eyebrows. Eww. This was his cue to leave. “I saw Caleb the other day. He asked me about you.”

“He did?” Callie asked.

Hunter watched Callie’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink, and he in turn kept his butt in the chair, no longer in any hurry to leave.

“I can’t believe I forgot to tell you. That man is hot. I bet if you ask him to be in the calendar, he will. Then he could ask a couple of his fireman friends.”

“Fine. I’ll do it,” Hunter said.

Nova caught his eye, and something told him he’d just walked right into her evil plan. “Great! I’ll get Maverick in, too, even though he’ll hate it. Cole maybe.” She kept talking, and Callie took out a small notebook and pen to take notes.

A knock on the window drew his attention. Maverick waved to him to come on. His brother had delivered glazed donuts to Kennedy, and now they had work to do.

“See you later,” he said, not accidentally brushing Callie’s arm as he left. The urge to touch her refused to diminish, especially when they were in the same space, and he wondered if the innocent touch would leave her thinking about him like he’d be thinking about her.