Chapter Thirty-Seven

Hunter tossed back another shot—correction, he tossed back his final shot. If he put one more ounce of alcohol in his body, the poison just might rival that of a certain black widow spider.

Thinking about the spider had him thinking about Callie. He missed her. Why wasn’t she here with him?

His cousin Jace plopped an arm around his shoulders. The guy weighed a ton and needed to lean the other way before Hunter fell off his stool. “Aren’t you glad you came out with us?” Jace Weighs-A-Ton asked.

Hunter picked up Jace’s arm and flung it away.

“Ow!” his other cousin, Derrick, said when Jace’s hand whacked him in the face.

All three of them cracked up.

“You boys need anything else?” Emma asked, stopping at their high-top table. That wasn’t the waitress’s actual name, but Hunter couldn’t remember it, so he called her Emma in his head. She reminded him of Emma Stone, and that reminded him of his all-time favorite redhead: Callie. Where was she again?

“What are you offering?” Derrick slurred.

“How about another plate of sliders and a side of fries?”

“Can you give us an extra slider for me?”

“Sure.” She smiled at Derrick, and tiny red hearts floated out of his eyes.

Whoa. Hunter squinted to be sure he wasn’t seeing things. The hearts were gone. But thinking about hearts made him think about Callie.

He’d misplaced Callie somewhere. He looked around Sutter’s for her. Unless she was hiding under a table, he didn’t see her. He laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Jace asked.

“Callie under the table.”

“She’s under the table?” Jace investigated. “I don’t see her,” he called out before his head popped back up. “Besides, she doesn’t love you, remember?”

Oh yeah. That’s why she wasn’t here. She hated him.

Everyone hated him, this last week one he wished he’d been on vacation for. Far, far away from the squinty eyes of his sister and the rest of his female relatives because they all knew now. At least he had Jace and Derrick. They’d decided to drive down from San Fran for a surprise visit and basically kidnapped him to come out with them. He’d said okay on the spot.

“Who doesn’t love who again?” Derrick asked, scrolling through his phone.

Hunter picked up his own phone, thinking to text Callie, but the icons looked wiggly. Using his brain hurt, so he stopped.

“Hey, Kennedy’s sister is hot,” Derrick said, still on his phone. He liked to be on Instacram. Instagram.

“Dude, I called dibs already,” Jace said.

“You guys wanna get married?” Hunter asked them.

They shook their heads. “Not what we’re talking about,” Jace said like Hunter needed correction.

He rolled his eyes. “I know that. But she’s gonna be wearing a lucky dress and that’s better than catching the bow-ket.”

Derrick frowned. “What’s a bow-ket?”

“I said bouquet.”

“No, you said bow-ket.” Jace always took his brother’s side. As it should be. Hunter looked around for Maverick or Cole. Nope, they weren’t here, either.

Plus, how come his cousins could drink him under the table? Oops. There he went under the table again. If Callie was there, he’d say he was sorry.

“Whatever.” Hunter knew what he said. “The point is matchmaking.”

“Huh?” Jace rubbed the side of his jaw.

“That makes no sense.” Derrick polished off the last of his beer.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” he garbled, that last shot kicking in and scrambling his brain cells even more.

“Here you go,” Emma said, reaching between him and Jace to leave their food on the table. “One extra slider on the side and the french fries are hot so be careful.”

“She’s into me,” Derrick said as she walked away.

“How do you know?” Hunter asked, genuinely interested. He loved his cousin so much and wanted him to find love, too. Love made the world go ’round.

“She doesn’t want me to burn my tongue.” He grinned.

“So?” Jace questioned.

“So. She wants to kiss me when she gets off work.”

Hunter and Jace exchanged a look before laughing their asses off. They laughed so hard Hunter’s side hurt.

Derrick grumbled, then said, “Just watch. You’ll see.”

Hunter grabbed a slider and downed the delicious tiny burger in seconds. He ate a bunch of fries next. He hoped the food absorbed some of the alcohol clogging his mind and running free in his veins.

“Nova Scotia!” Jace shouted, also drunk as a skunk if he was shouting out random Canadian provinces.

Hey! Hunter had thought “Canadian provinces” with little difficulty. The food was working. He shoved another handful of fries into his mouth.

“Jace! Derrick! Hi,” Nova said, arriving at their table. Now the outburst made sense. “I didn’t know you guys were in town.” She gave them each a hug, then turned to him. Her eyes widened like big flying saucers from outer space. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m hanging with my favorite cousins.”

The saucers turned into evil slits. Uh-oh. She’d been abducted by aliens. “Are you drunk?” she demanded.

“Are you?” he countered.

“Hunt, you need to stop.”

He paused with a french fry halfway to his mouth. “Eating?”

She grumbled. “Drinking like a fish.”

“Fish do not drink booooze,” he enunciated. He might be drunk, but he knew fish only drank water. Fresh and salty.

Nova put her hands on his shoulders. She looked at him funny, like she didn’t know whether to punch him or hug him. “If you keep this up, you’re going to ruin more than your relationship with Callie. You could lose the ambassador position.”

His sister wouldn’t lie to him. “Fuck,” he said under his breath. Shame and nausea filled him. He kept screwing up. He jammed his fingers through his hair. Sucked to be him right now. “Thanks, Nova. I’m gonna walk home now. Clear my head.” The mile’s distance due north would do him some good. Or maybe it was due south? He’d figure it out once he got outside.

“I’ll drive you home and then come back,” Nova said. “You two”—she wagged a finger at Jace and Derrick—“stay put and drink plenty of water.” She popped a french fry into her mouth. “And order the pie-eyed omelet. It’s not on the menu but the best thing to soak up all the alcohol in your bloodstream.”

“How do you know about the omelet?” Hunter knew of its healing properties. Maverick and Cole had introduced it to him. “Have you youtee…youtill…utilized it?”

“You don’t know everything about me, big brother. Now come on.”

“We’ll be right here, eating pie when you get back,” Derrick said.

Hunter just shook his head, pretty sure his cousin thought he was getting actual pie.

On the quick drive back to the bunkhouse, Nova stayed quiet. The silence spoke volumes. “Thanks for coming to my rescue,” he said, opening the car door when she came to a stop.

“You’ve come to mine plenty of times over the years. I’m happy to come to yours now.”

He trudged to his front door, let himself inside, and fell face-first onto his bed with his boots hanging off the edge. Despite the turmoil going on in his head, sleep pulled him under within seconds. In dreamland, he and Callie were madly in love and riding horses through a meadow. She wore a long white dress and her hair down. He wore a dark suit and his cowboy hat.

A piercing cry woke him with a jolt. He groaned and rolled over on to his back. They had a family of raccoons on the ranch, and the babies liked to make a screeching noise. He stared up at the ceiling and waited the screecher out. His throat felt drier than a desert. A killer headache throbbed behind his eyes.

He walked into the kitchen for a glass of water and a couple of aspirin, the events of the evening slowly coming back to him. The clock on the stove read 11:18. He’d slept for several hours.

The drink helped, and the two pain relievers he swallowed would hopefully kick in quickly because if he had any hope of getting back to normal, he needed to go over to Callie’s right this minute and give her the apology he owed her. No more excuses. Because his sister was right. He was in jeopardy of letting everyone he cared about down.

He smelled like fried food and bad judgment, so he stripped out of his clothes and took a hot shower. He wished with every swipe of the soap he could wipe away the past few hours, not to mention the past week. He’d been short with everyone. Grumpy as hell. And drunk more than once.

He thought that might cure him of his love for Callie, drown his affection so it would stop bubbling to the surface, but drinking only made everything worse. He was so damn sorry. More than that, he wanted to laugh with her again, make her blush, listen to her talk about anything and everything.

Which was why he’d stayed away. To save himself more heartbreak.

He turned off the shower, dressed in clean clothes. He debated texting Callie a heads-up. Decided not to. She couldn’t turn him away if he just showed up on her doorstep, right?

The drive to her house took no time at all at this late hour. He drove around the block a few times to think about what to say. This apology meant more than any other he’d ever given. She meant more to him than any other person ever had. Used to. Was there a twelve-step program for getting over a broken heart?

On the walk up to her front door, his heart hammered loud enough to wake the dead. Nerves took over the parts of his body that normally worked well—case in point, he tripped over his own feet, and when he lifted his arm to knock, the appendage fell right back to his side.

Don’t wimp out now. You’re here.

He gave three strong raps. Three was his lucky number. Then, so she didn’t worry about who had knocked this late at night, he texted, It’s me at your door.

The wait was excruciating. His leg shook with anticipation and dread.

Please open the door, Triple C.

When she did a few seconds later, relief and hope flooded him. She had on the same blue-and-white polka-dot pajamas she’d worn their first night together, when she’d watched over him, and the sight of her made him feel a thousand times better than the few hours of sleep and pain relievers had. Maybe he could salvage their relationship.

“Hi,” he said, measuring her disposition before launching into a full-blown apology.

“Hi.”

“Can I come in?” he asked. She opened the door to allow him entry. “Thanks. I’ve been meaning to stop by.”

“And you decided midnight was the best time?” she said lightly, leading him to the back of the cottage and her living space. She sat at the small round dining table in the minimalist kitchen, elbows on the glass top, her fingers laced tightly together. He took the chair across from her.

“It’s been a rough week.”

“For me, too. I’m—”

He pressed two fingers to her mouth to stop her from saying she was sorry. She had nothing to be sorry for. He did. And if she even whispered the word before he did, he’d never be able to forgive himself.

The feel of her soft lips on the pads of his callused fingers sent a jolt of electricity through him. She seemed to feel it, too, because her soft, sleepy eyes widened, and she quickly scooted her chair back.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She gave a small nod, tucked her hands under her legs.

“I said some hurtful things to you that I wish I could take back. I’m so sorry for that.”

“Apology accepted.” Her acceptance and gracious tone eased the guilt and self-loathing churning in his stomach.

“I’m not sure where we go from here.” He couldn’t see her and not want her, so for a while, he’d continue to keep his distance.

“Me, either.”

“It’s going to take me a while to…”

Her head tilted to the side in consideration. “This isn’t easy for me, either. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“I know you didn’t.”

She searched his eyes, looking for what, he wasn’t sure. “You are an amazing man,” she said softly. “And you deserve the best.”

Did she not know that was her? That she was made for him and he would keep her heart safe and happy for as long as he lived? He understood her hesitations. Her apprehension. He truly did. But—

“And that’s not me,” she added.

He studied her. If he argued that wasn’t true, he’d push her farther away than the million miles that already separated them. If he said okay, he’d be cementing her belief she wasn’t enough. Both options sucked. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach. He silently considered what to do. She silently watched him.

“You can have any girl you want, Hunt.”

Hunt. Knife to the chest right there.

He’d loved the few times she said it over the past couple of months. God damn her. In her mind, she already had him paired off with someone else.

“Okay. On that note, I should go. Let you get back to sleep.”

She walked him to the door. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“Thanks for opening the door.” He dragged his feet to said door, not wanting to leave but knowing he had to.

“Bye,” fell softly from her lips.

“Bye. Lock your door on my way out.” He walked away without a glance back, letting his mind wander one last time to the days and nights they’d shared before locking the memories away for good.