“You can’t forget he then turned his back on our friendship, pissed all over what you guys had. What was his excuse? How can you forgive him?”
“Hold on.” Aaron raised a hand. “Too many questions, and to be honest, I don’t have the answers. We didn’t get into any of that. We put our past behind us—perhaps temporarily, but still….” He cleared his throat as he tried to justify himself to Garrett. “We had a meal together and focused on what we needed to do for the dance. We’re not becoming best buddies again.”
“Just be careful, okay?” Garrett said, eyes pleading, tone solemn. “Promise me.”
The bell tinkled, and Aaron’s gaze jerked to the front of the store and the man entering.
“Speak of the devil.” Garrett slid off the counter and stood next to him. “I guess that’s my cue to leave.” He leaned in to whisper against Aaron’s ear. “Just remember what I said, okay? Be careful.”
“I promise.”
Garrett and Hunter passed, each giving the other a cursory nod, then Garrett was gone and the door was closed again. They were alone. Him and Hunter.
Hunter wore jeans and boots with a heavy jacket. He had a scarf wound around his neck, the bright knitted wool the only concession to color in his otherwise muted outfit. Aaron cursed inwardly as his pulse once again sped up when his eyes landed on Hunter and that damn smile. It was like the universe playing a horrible joke, making Hunter Cavendish be the one man who set fire to his insides and caused his hands to tremble.
“Afternoon, Aaron,” Hunter finally said. “Sorry to arrive at closing time again.”
“Huh?”Closing time?He looked at his watch. “Oh, yeah. Closing. That’s fine. It’s… I was just… What can I do for you? What do you need?” He shoved his hands into his pockets before he was tempted to hit himself upside the head.I sound like a blithering idiot with my first crush.He ignored the little voice that reminded him that Hunterwashis first crush. He was going to blame that blasted scarf.
Hunter stepped forward, raising a browandthe manila envelope he held. “I’ve got the sample of the program for the dance. I hoped you’d check it before the print run, to make sure nothing was missed.” He shrugged. “Two sets of eyes and all that?”
“Oh, right. Sure.” He gave what he hoped was a welcoming smile and gestured for Hunter to come around the counter. “Follow me.”
He prayed the short walk to his office would give him a chance to clear his head, but in reality, it was only a matter of steps to the door and he was conscious of Hunter on his heels the whole way. He was grateful to escape behind his desk, where he immediately woke up his computer. He opened the folder and found the correct document. “I’ll print out the latest run sheet and auction list, and we can check them out together.” He clicked Print and looked up, this time offering a genuine smile, feeling on much more even footing.
“Sounds good,” Hunter said, shrugging from his coat and unwinding the scarf, both of which he draped over his arm.
Hunter looked around, and Aaron wondered what he thought of the small office, suddenly self-conscious of the perceived mess. Hunter surprised him, not commenting on the piles of papers, open boxes of samples, or empty coffee cups that dotted available surfaces. Instead, he picked up a small paperweight from the desk. The glass enclosed a black-and-orange butterfly. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s a California Tortoiseshell.”
“I remember.”
Aaron studied Hunter, who was looking at the butterfly reverently.What do you remember? What you learned at school? The masses of them we saw when hiking?He wanted to ask, but instead he said, “There was a huge flight last year. Millions of them. It was magnificent.”
“I bet it was. Nature is pretty spectacular, and they are amazing creatures, the way they morph and change…”
The printer whirred, drawing Hunter’s attention. Aaron stood and moved to the printer. He grabbed the finished pages and gestured back to the storefront. “Let’s do this at the counter so I can keep an eye out on the store.”Nothing to do with not wanting to be in the privacy of the small room—no siree!
The dance program was actually a combination of the timings for the events of the evening—the meal, dancing, the speeches, the charity auction—and the list of items that had been donated to be auctioned to raise money. It also acknowledged the contributions of the major corporate sponsors. The two of them checked the printed sample against the original notes to make sure nothing had been left off or botched up in general during the design and printing process. Standing together, bent over the counter as they viewed the documents, it was hard to ignore Hunter’s presence. The scent of his cologne competed pleasantly with the pear and pine notes of the candle that was burning. His arm brushed Aaron’s as he directed his gaze to certain areas of the paper. Aaron forced himself to focus. They noted a couple of spelling mistakes and some minor formatting adjustments. Then Aaron saw the addition to the auction list.
“You’re donating this?” He pointed to the item donated by H.C. Design,then looked to Hunter in surprise. “A full design consultation and service?”
Hunter shrugged. “Yeah. Hopefully someone in town is looking to do a makeover.”
“Wow! That’s pretty awesome. A service like that is a big time commitment for you. It sure stands out amongst the free coffee for a month, magazine subscriptions, and dinner for two at the local cafe donations.” Aaron himself had donated a $300 Artisan gift voucher. “Hmm. I’m thinking we should add you to the list of major sponsors.”
“That’s completely unnecessary.” Hunter actually appeared horrified by the suggestion.
“Why not?” Aaron said, running a finger down the program and highlighting the logos of Cavendish Properties, who’d donated a huge television, too large to fit in the average home, and Haven Spa Resort, owned by one of the Cavendish corporations, who’d donated a weeklong retreat.
“Just drop it, Aaron. It’s not about the advertising or getting my name out there. I just think it’s an amazing, good cause and wanted to support it, that’s all.”
“It is a good cause, one that’s close to a lot of hearts.” This time he ran his fingertip over the logo of the nearest LGBTQIA+ support center.
“I was surprised by the change,” Hunter said. “Doesn’t the dance usually benefit the local hospital?”
“Yeah, it does. We thought we’d do alternate years from now on.”
