“Sure,” I said, biting back all the things I wanted to ask: Does this mean you forgive me? Does this mean we’re back together? Does this mean anything at all?
I knew what that kiss had meant to me. But what had it meant to him? And how long until I could find out for sure?
SEVEN
“Try this one, it’s got this nutmeggy taste—”
“Now, this is a quality brew!”
“—my personal favorite’s the—”
“—can’t believe this is what Hunter’s been hiding in that shed out there!”
I jotted down some notes from my unobtrusive position nearby, sipping from my own bottle of the blend we were tentatively branding ‘the Genevieve’ after Hunter’s great-grandmother. It was refreshing and cool with a lavender aftertaste, and in my opinion, perfect.
Though approximately seven percent of the attending partygoers disagreed, with opinions ranging from “too fancy” to “too plebian” to “I can’t even tell what I’m drinking.” Hence the discreet note-taking, to try to see if any themes emerged or if the nitpicking was negligible.
The scent of barbecue wafted across the lawn, mixing with that of the beer and the fresh-cut grass and the sunscreen of our three dozen guests. It was the perfect scent of summer, and I inhaled it almost as greedily as my drink. A lovely green-and-golden smell that made me believe that this happiness just might last forever.
I caught a glimpse of Hunter. He was laughing and chatting and looking more relaxed and at ease than I had seen him in a long time as he greeted people and directed them towards the tasting table. On the other side of the lawn, Paige handed out barbecue ribs to an ever-growing line of hungry customers—who then headed back to the tasting table for a little something to quench their thirst.
My hunger must have shown on my face, because as soon as Paige spotted me, she handed off her apron and tongs to Martha before loading up a plate and bringing it on over.
“You’re a lifesaver,” I told her, before my chowing down in an exceedingly unladylike manner meant that talking was no longer a possibility. The meat was flavorful and indescribably tender, practically falling off the bone, and drenched in a sweet and fiery barbecue sauce. As I licked the last of it off my lips, I caught Hunter’s eye. His gaze tracked the path of my tongue, and my heart stopped for a second, heat rising in me as if we were the only two people there.
We weren’t, though, and Paige definitely noticed. “Damn, girl. I know you two are talking again, but are you two…”—she hesitated—“you know, a thing again?”
I sighed, setting my plate down and taking another swig of beer to buy time before I replied. “I don’t know. Not really. I mean, we did kiss—”
Paige made a noise like someone had sat on a parrot.
“No, but then we got interrupted,” I said quickly. “So it was romantic, but maybe also sort of not? Like, maybe it was just a thing, like, we were just both excited or something? And, er…I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it. Still.”
Paige rolled her eyes. “Well, what’s stopping you? I hope you’re not just hanging on until one of you develops telepathy, because that could be a long wait.”
“We only just recently got back to being civil,” I said with a sigh. “I’m not sure I’m willing to risk that. He’s been so charming and great, and I…I don’t know. I want to hold onto that a little longer before I try for anything more.”
“Well, I hope he’s worth all this second-guessing.”
“Paige—” I started reprovingly.
“Sorry!” she said with a laugh. “Your big sister worries, that’s all. Didn’t you know that’s in the contract too?” Then her laugh died down and a slight frown creased her brow. “I’m glad to see you looking so happy, Ally, and I don’t want to rain on your parade, but…well, you put a lot of time and effort into this. What do your bosses in DC think about you jetting around on their time? And isn’t Chuck technically your client now?”
I looked down, drew a line with my toe in the dirt. “Well…”
“Ally…” Paige said in a ‘you’re-not-getting-away-with-anything’ tone.
“I’ve been faking a family emergency,” I confessed in a rush. “I have to get back to the office the second this shindig is over or they’ll suspect something’s up.”
Paige shook her head disapprovingly. “Ally, you know that’s not going to work forever. They’ll figure it out eventually.”
“It doesn’t have to work forever,” I said. A pleading note crept into my voice, as if I were once again the little girl who wanted her big sister to assure her that Santa Claus was real. “It just has to work for a little while.”
Paige probably would have said more, but then an oh so familiar and shrill voice called out through the idyll.
“Ally!”
A real family emergency: my mom had shown up.