Chapter Thirty-Six

Hunter pressed a hand to his knee to stop his leg from bouncing. Silence filled the banquet room as the mayor stood at a podium giving a speech about Windsong and the townspeople and the importance of small-town pride and values.

He and the other ambassador finalists were seated at a table in the front, Callie clear across from him, thank God. It was hard enough being in the same room with her. If she were next to him, he’d probably stop breathing from shame and guilt. Deservedly so.

He’d been awful to her the other night and owed her an apology. From her disregard of him so far this evening, he’d have some groveling to do, too. He hated to think the last thing she’d remember about him were the terrible words he’d spoken out of hurt.

His leg finally stopped moving. He didn’t often get nervous, so tonight’s string of shaking body parts bothered him. The question was, was he nervous because of the ambassador position or because Callie sat close by?

Up on stage, Mayor Garnett smiled like she’d pulled off a million-dollar heist. “As you know, we had an overwhelming number of applicants for Ambassador of Windsong. We narrowed it down to six, and when it came down to choosing just one, it wasn’t easy.” She directed her gaze at their table, touching on each of them with an appreciative smile. “Many of you stepped outside your comfort zones, and one of you faced your biggest fear. Success is measured not only by accomplishment, but by personal growth, however that looks.”

Hunter couldn’t help himself; he watched Callie from across the table as she swiped at the corner of her eye. He wished she were next to him so he could take her hand and hold it dearly. Whisper in her ear how gutsy and impressive she was. This past week, the mayor’s office made all the articles from the candidates available online, and the one she wrote about horseback riding had been particularly moving—and funny.

“My heartfelt thanks go out to each of you for wanting to help land Windsong on the list of Top Small Towns in America. And so, without further delay, Windsong’s first ambassador is…Hunter Owens!”

Hunter took a minute, elation overwhelming him. He’d done it. He’d gotten the job. His gaze flew to Callie. She smiled warmly at him and mouthed, Congratulations.

A few tables over, his cheering section jumped to their feet and whooped for joy. The rest of the room applauded and cheered, too. As Hunter stood, so did his fellow finalists. They congratulated him before he made his way to the podium.

“Thank you, Mayor,” he said, shaking her hand before she pulled him in for a hug.

“Way to go, Hunter!” he heard Nova yell.

He put his forearms on the podium, then looked out at the crowd. “First, I want to say what an honor it was to be grouped with the other finalists. I’m a big fan of all of yours.” With the spotlight on him, it wasn’t easy to make out individual faces, so he concentrated on the back of the room where the buffet tables were in better focus.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he continued. “I love Windsong with my whole heart, and I promise to increase exposure to the unique and interesting features of our beloved town. I’ll do my best to bring attention to our community events, festivals, and everything that makes our town great. I can’t wait to showcase Windsong on a local, regional, and national scale and show off our Windsonger pride.”

“Woot! Woot!” someone shouted.

Hunter grinned. A big-ass grin he couldn’t contain, even with a tinge of sadness that he’d beaten Callie in order to be standing here.

“I’m up here today as the first ambassador to our amazing town, but I look at this as a team effort. Every resident is a vital contributor to our small town, and I’m excited to be the person to lead us to wider recognition.

“Thank you to the mayor’s office for this incredible honor. And thank you to my family and friends. I’m afraid I’ll forget someone if I start naming names.”

“Jenna!” came the cutest voice from the middle of the room. The crowd laughed.

“Pipsqueak, let’s eat cake first.”

“Yes!” Jenna said.

“Have a great night, everyone.” With that, Hunter stepped off the stage.

A cocktail reception followed. He mingled, received kudos and slaps on the back, thanked the mayor again, had a drink with his parents, Maverick and Kennedy, cake with his niece, and threw back a shot of tequila with Brett. Across the room, Callie stood with Nova. Throughout the night, Callie drew him like a magnet to wherever she was. Besides her initial congrats from across the table, they’d not been within twenty feet of each other. What he wouldn’t give to breathe in her scent, touch her, kiss her, one more time. He’d said some terrible things to her he wished he could take back.

Focusing back on Brett, he said, “The new job sounds great.”

“Thanks. I definitely need the change of scenery.” Brett lifted his chin toward the bar. “The reporter from the Gazette hasn’t taken her eyes off you. You should go talk to her.”

Hunter glanced in the direction of the bar to find Vivian looking at him with interest more intense than usual. “Not sure I’m feeling it tonight.”

“Too bad. She’s coming this way.”

Vivian put her empty wineglass on a passing tray as she strode toward them. “Hello, gentlemen.” She put out her hand to shake Brett’s. “I’m Vivian. I don’t think we’ve officially met yet.”

“Brett.”

“Nice to meet you, Brett,” she said to him.

“You, too.”

“Congratulations, Ambassador Hunter. I know what a big deal this is for you.”

“Thanks.” He’d shared how important this gig was to him on their bike ride. “But please call me Mr. Ambassador.”

She laughed. “Brett, care to comment on Hunter’s win? It had to sting a little, even though you took yourself out of the running.”

“Not at all. The best person for the position won,” his friend said. “Hunt is a fourth-generation Windsonger and will do a phenomenal job.”

“Thanks, man.” Hunter peered over Vivian’s shoulder and locked eyes with Callie. He’d like to eliminate the distance between them and apologize, but tonight wasn’t the time or place. Her gaze strayed to Vivian, then jumped to someone else.

He had royally fucked things up. He’d replayed the minutes in the car with her over and over again and hated himself for the things he’d said. The way he’d said them.

He focused back on the conversation at his table, listening to Brett and Vivian talk about Brett’s move and his position at the start-up. “A friend is waving me over, so if you’ll excuse me,” Brett said.

Hunter searched out Callie again, hoping to catch another glimpse of her. No such luck.

“Would you like to go somewhere else and get a celebratory drink?” Vivian asked. “If you’re ready to go, that is.”

“Sounds good. Give me a minute to say goodbye to my family.” The truth was, he was ready to escape. From the attention brought by his win. And from Callie and the way he felt about himself when she was near. He’d dreamed about being ambassador for months, but it wasn’t as gratifying without her to celebrate with, too.

Vivian wrapped her arm around his, and they left the banquet room. At the coat check, he helped her into her jacket before slipping on his own.

He welcomed the cold night air on his face when they stepped outside. “It’s a few minutes’ walk to Main Street if you’re good with that,” he said.

“I’m good with anything you suggest.” Her kittenish tone suggested they skip the drink and go right back to his place.

He ignored her flirtation and led her down the sidewalk toward Sutter’s.

“Sorry,” she said. “I can come on a little strong when I want something.”

And she wanted him. The trouble was, he didn’t want her. “It’s okay.”

Her high heels click-clacked on the concrete. “There’s something going on with you tonight.”

“Your reporter senses are damn annoying, you know that?” he said, teasing her.

She chuckled. “They’re hard to turn off. Especially with people I care about.” Sincerity replaced playfulness.

“It’s been nice getting to know you,” he said lightly.

“Uh-oh,” she said. “This is where you tell me you can’t be with me because your mind is elsewhere.”

He put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and brought them to a stop under a streetlight. “If this reporting thing doesn’t work out for you, you could be a fortune teller.”

“Oh my God. You’re the second person to tell me that this week. Weird. Anyway, I knew it was a longshot when I asked you for a drink, but my momma taught me that if you don’t go for what you want, you’re giving up before you’ve even gotten started.”

“She sounds like a smart woman.”

“She is. My dad, too. He taught me if a man doesn’t ask me out after”—she looked lost in thought as she ticked off one, two, three fingers—“three exchanges, then he isn’t going to. I should have kept that in mind and not gone rogue tonight.”

It was Hunter’s turn to chuckle. “Please don’t take it personally.”

She raised sculpted eyebrows at him. “It’s very much personal, but that’s okay. I’m a big girl.” She craned her neck to study him a little more closely. “Does she know?”

He gave her his best puzzled look, hoping she’d drop it. The woman could apparently sniff out anything.

“The woman you can’t stop thinking about?” she prompted.

Silly him to think she’d let it go. He ran his fingers through his hair. “She knows.”

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

I’m going to tell her I love her. She’s going to freak out and break my heart into a million pieces, and I’m going to say hurtful things to her to get her back, and then I’m going to feel like shit even after getting my dream side job.

“Not sure yet. She doesn’t see a future with me like I do with her.”

“That got nothing to do with you, then. She’s trying to figure out her own life.” She gave him a friendly push in the shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short, stud. Besides, your brother’s wedding is around the corner. She’ll change her mind after you wear your best man suit. And if she doesn’t, then it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Speaking of the wedding, I heard you dubbed Callie the Marry Matchmaker.”

“Catchy, isn’t it?”

“Very.” There was more he wanted to say about Callie and her talents, but he worried Vivian would figure out it was Callie he was hung up on.

“How about we grab that drink and talk about the Forty-Niners?” she asked, steering them into friendship territory.

“You like football?” They resumed the walk toward Sutter’s. A full moon helped light the way between streetlamps. The closer they got to Main Street, the livelier the streets grew with cars and pedestrians. In the distance, Friday Night Lights shined on the high school football field.

“Love it. My brother plays professionally.”

“No way. For the Forty-Niners?” Maybe she could help him with some tickets for him and his brothers. They’d make for a great Christmas gift.

“Yeah.”

Her last name was Fisher… Holy shit. “Your brother is Jonah Fisher?”

“You’ve heard of him?” she teased. The guy was a phenom. He’d taken over as quarterback after Nash Radcliffe was injured and forced to retire.

He opened the door to Sutter’s, allowing her to enter first. They found a table and talked nonstop over drinks and potato skins. And for a minute, he forgot about the hurt he’d caused Callie.

Too bad it was only temporary.