My heart remembers how to beat—but with alarming speed, pounding in my chest. True, he told me hewantedto ask me out. But having him say he’sthoughtabout it and actuallydoingit are two different things. “That seems to break your rules about no relationships of any kind pretty significantly,” I say, trying to buy myself time to sort out the jumble of my feelings.
“They’re more what you’d callguidelinesthan actual rules.” His mouth twitches.
Asking me out on a date and using aPiratesquote to tease me, to boot. He’s going for the jugular. “Parlay?”
“Is that a yes?”
I’m out of stalls. And the truth I haven’t wanted to admit to myself isyes, I want to go out with him. “I have to ask my boss if I can take a longer lunch break.”
Hunter smiles fully now. “Good luck. I hear she’s got a real iron fist.”
Before I can respond, the kitchen door swings open, and Cory walks back into the bakery, carrying a stack of pastry boxes. “Livarooni, you’ve got to tell Mom to stop—” He halts when he notices Hunter, his gaze going between both of us as if he somehow senses this is not a normal customer interaction he’s interrupted. His eyes widen slightly when he takes in Hunter’s scars, but Hunter doesn’t look away, holding my brother’s gaze in some sort of unspoken challenge.
“Cory, this is Hunter. He’s Lou’s cousin. Hunter, this is my brother Cory.”
The two men nod at each other. Cory’s body language is instantly different, no longer loose and easygoing; he seems even bigger without having done anything except fully straighten, as if he’s somehow fluffed out imaginary feathers in warning.
“Nice to meet you.” Hunter sticks his hand out, and Cory has to shuffle the boxes in his arms to take it, shaking it firmly.
“Likewise.” Cory’s eyes flicker back to me. “So, you two are ... friends?”
“Messy mates, according to her,” Hunter says with an offhand shrug.
“What does that even mean?” The look Cory gives me is baffled—and slightly concerned.
“He’s living in our duplex. But only until he finds his own place because he just moved here,” I quickly add when Cory’s eyes widen again. “And he’s been through some hard stuff, too, so I dubbed us ‘messy mates’ because it was more accurate than friends or ... anything else.”
Cory purses his lips together with a shake of his head, then announces, “You’re really weird, you know that, right?”
“That’s why I’m your favorite sister.”
“Myonlysister,” he says with a gleam in his eye.
“Same thing.”
“Well, I wish I could stay and chat longer and grill you with lots of overprotective brotherly questions”—Cory smirks at Hunter, whose eyebrows lift—“but alas, the endless hours of study call to me, and I must go if I wish to pass my classes and not flunk out of my degree.”
“Nice to meet you,” Hunter says, but the smile he flashes my brother is the fake one he used on me when we first met—tight and holding very little warmth. I wonder if it’s because of Cory’s teasing about drilling him with questions, but then I notice the ache lurking in Hunter’s eyes.
Only then do I realize how painful this very mundane, normal interaction between me and my brother must be for him to witness.
“You too,” Cory says. “Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime?”
It’s a loaded question. Some sort of bro-code forAre you interested in my sister, or do I not need to worry about you?
“Maybe,” is all Hunter gives him.
I hurry over to give Cory a hug and then hold the door open for him. “Next time, I hope you plan on staying longer.We barely even got to talk. Plus, I didn’t get to drill you about Meredith with my overly protective older-sister questions.”
Cory strides away from the bakery with a laugh. “Bye, Livarooni. Next time.Maybe.” He throws a wink at me over his shoulder.
I let the door shut with a jingle of the bell and turn to face Hunter. “Is the lunch date offer still on the table?” I ask hesitantly. I can’t read his mood anymore. Gone is the teasing, smiling man from five minutes ago, who came to cheer me up; Hunter’s face is a mask now. “Iron fist aside, I have an in with the boss, and I think I might be able to get her to say yes.”
He is quiet long enough that my hands get clammy. Finally, he seems to shake himself, donning a small half-smile again. “Yeah, let’s go get that lunch.Livarooni.”
I groan. “You caught that, huh?”
“I did. And it is a name that will live in infamy all the days of your life.”
