I chased this job, and nothing I’ve done has been good enough.
And now I am chasing Hunter, and I don’t feel right about it.
I see him waiting in the hallway with a bouquet of flowers in his hands for me, and a million emotions enter. Happiness at his handsome face, delight at the flowers, guilt at the real reason I’m here.
As he sees me, he walks toward me, a genuine wide smile on his face as he looks me over.
“They’re beautiful. Did you pick these from the garden?” I ask.
“How could you tell?”
“Because I’ve seen the roses around and the sunflowers. They’re really nice.”
“Thank you. I figured a beautiful woman deserves beautiful flowers.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it. I’ll put these in some water.” I hurry away from him, feeling guilty, and rush to the kitchen. I don’t want to be complimented right now.
Janina is in there, and she gushes as she sees the flowers. “Oh, those are beautiful, Gina. How lovely.”
“Thank you. Hunter gave them to me. I was just going to put them in a vase with some water.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll take care of it for you. I’ll put them in your room.”
“Oh, you don’t have to.”
“No, I know you’re going on a picnic. I put some bits and pieces together for you. I really hope you have a fun time.”
“Thank you. You really don’t have to do that.”
“We’ve needed a breath of fresh air like you around the house,” she smiles. “Yes, we have the writing group here every day, but seeing Hunter smile and seeing him happy—well, that’s something different. We’re all grateful for that.”
“Oh… well. I’m glad to hear that,” I say softly. “Thank you.” I hand her the bouquet and head back out of the kitchen and toward the front door.
Hunter’s standing there with a wicker basket in his hands and a cap on his head. I’m not sure where they came from, but the sight makes me smile.
“I figured we’d take a walk down by the beach,” he says, “and we can eat there.”
“Are you sure the pelicans aren’t going to try and grab our food? And the seagulls?”
“They’ll try, but I’ll defend your honor and your food.”
“Why, thank you, kind sir.”
“You’re welcome.” He opens the door for me, and we head out of the house.
As we head toward a Jeep, the sunshine warms my face, and I start to feel comfortable again. At peace. Being with him seems to do that for me.
“We could have walked if you wanted to.”
“It’s okay. Plus, I wanted to take you a little bit further—to a truly private beach that not many people have seen.”
“It must be crazy having so much land and private beaches.”
“It’s not mine. It’s my grandparents’.”
“But one day, it’ll be yours, I suppose.”
“I never really thought about it like that,” he says, nodding slowly. “So, did you have a good morning?”
