They sat in silence as they finished their coffee, his mom checking items off her list, Hunter lost in thoughts of Aaron.Are he and Garrett an item? They seemed more than friends. Perhaps—
The peace was shattered by the sound of happy chatter as Gabby and Cameron burst into the room. Cameron skidded to a halt in socked feet, grabbing the edge of the kitchen island for balance.
“Children!”
“Sorry, Grandma,” the kids chanted in unison, suitably chastened.
“No running in the house.” Melody’s voice was firm, but Hunter was surprised to see her lip quirk as she suppressed a smile. That wasn’t something he could recall seeing back in his day.
“Morning, kids.”
“Hey, Uncle Hunter.” Gabby gave him a hug, followed by Cameron before both of them headed to the walk-in pantry.
“Let me give you guys a hand.” Hunter grabbed three bowls and spoons, laying them out on the counter where the bowls were quickly filled with Lucky Charms. He leaned down and whispered for their ears only, “Want to go eat in the family room?”
Two pairs of blue eyes gazed up at him, heads bobbing eagerly before seeking out their grandmother.
“Can we, Grandma, please?” Cameron asked.
Melody surprised him again when she nodded. “So long as you keep the noise down. It’s early, and people are still asleep. You wouldn’t want to wake your grandfather.”
The kids picked up their bowls and quickly disappeared through the doorway, as if worried Melody would change her mind, but as strict as her rules for her own children were, perhaps she’d softened with the grandchildren. Hunter looked at her in a new light. “Thanks, Mom.”
She shooed him away and returned to her lists.
Hunter followed the kids, and soon the three of them were seated side by side on the couch munching cereal with eyes glued toDora the Explorer.
Hunter smiled.Just like the good old days.
5
“Have a good night, Mrs. Angelo.”
Aaron shut the door behind what was probably his last customer with a relieved sigh. Another busy day was almost over. Only another five minutes until he could turn the Open sign to Closed.
He leaned against the glass door and, as he did most evenings, surveyed his store.My store.He couldn’t help the pride that filled his chest as he took in the display. Huge shelves of glassware, ceramics—plates, platters, and vases—and ornamental items on one side, and display racks brimming with gourmet products on the other. Olive oils, preserves, and sauces fought for space with chocolates and festive boxes of cookies. The tables in the center of the store were laden with handmade gifts of all descriptions, from organic soaps and candles to wooden toys, stuffed animals, and delicate Christmas ornaments.
The scents of cinnamon and pine filled the air, the cinnamon from the candle that was currently burning on the counter, and the pine from the magnificent tree that stood grandly in the corner of the store in front of the display window. The tree was covered in twinkling lights and a plethora of ornaments, a true mishmash of every color under the rainbow. The decoration wasn’t limited to the tree—garlands of tinsel hung from the display shelves, and vases and mugs were filled with sprigs of holly. The whole store was bright and cheerful and festive.
Aaron sighed with contentment. It was all his. This beautiful shop that he’d worked and saved so hard for was all his. Artisan was his dream come true.
He crossed the hardwood floor and blew out the candle before lifting the glass dome from a footed cake stand. He snagged a couple of the gingerbread cookies from underneath, shoving one in his mouth. He loved to bake, it was his little escape from the world, and kept up a supply of cookies for the store all year around, but Christmas cookies had to be his favorite. Gingerbread, shortbread, sugar cookies… He grabbed another couple to tide him over until dinner and made his way back behind the counter to start closing up.
He locked the cash drawer away, then grabbed a few boxes from the small storeroom out back. The soaps and hand lotions had been selling like hotcakes, as had the handmade Christmas cards. He made a mental note to put in an order with the young mom who made the cards. As he refilled the displays, lining up the lotion bottles and making little pyramids with the bars of soap, his mind drifted from work. Instead he found himself thinking back on the cocktail party the night before. All day, he been unable to shake thoughts of Hunter, his pretty face popping into his mind every time he had a quiet moment.
The last few years had obviously treated him well. He looked good—damned good. More relaxed than Aaron remembered him from the past. The Hunter he remembered had been put together, not a hair out of place, and formally dressed. It had surprised the hell out of Aaron to see him in a sweater at the party, not a shirt and jacket. God, even at fifteen, Hunter had worn a suit!
Aaron chuckled at the memory of teenage Hunter dressed in his dark pants and jacket, crisp white shirt, and striped tie. He’d looked like a younger version of his father when he’d turned up to the Cavendish Crossing Christmas Dance when he was eighteen or so. But the humor didn’t last long, replaced by… sadness, regret.
That dance, six years ago, had been the beginning of the end of their friendship.
Back then, at age eighteen, Aaron knew Hunter had started college and lived in the city, but the changes in his appearance and his manner had been a shock, as had his spending most of the night with his parents rather than hanging with the younger crowd before disappearing early. With his tense and aloof features, it was almost as if they’d been beneath him. Maybe they had, given Hunter never even bothered to show up at the pre-dance gathering at Aaron’s place. When they’d been in high school, they’d had no trouble hanging out together. In fact, Aaron could remember a lot of good times during their high school years. Back in those days he’d looked forward to Hunter’s short visits to town, and his longer stay over summer vacation was the highlight of Aaron’s year. Days spent hiking and fishing in summer, or snowboarding in winter, and the hours spent simply hanging out watching movies or playing computer games. Between visits they’d kept in contact via social media, but the texts and exchange of photos and stupid memes had dried up shortly after school ended. Sure, they’d both been busy with their studies and new directions, but that Christmas Hunter had really changed, and Aaron’s excuses for Hunter—putting the lack of replies down to lack of time—started to wear thin.
The tinkle of the small bell over the door pulled Aaron from his memories and he nearly choked on the shortbread cookie.Hunter.
He swallowed the mouthful of cookie and placed the last soap on the neat tower he’d made, using the time to compose himself before stepping forward.
“Hunter.” He nodded in greeting.He’s just another customer.“Welcome to Artisan. How can I help?”
