Hunter shook his head. “I think we’ll have to wait for now.” He cocked his head, eyes still pinned on Josie. “I’ve gotta get these kolaches to the boys.”
Josie saw him take the huge box by the register. A swift kick of disappointment prompted her to blurt out, “Too bad, Hunter. If I remember it correctly, you knew how to kiss a girl.”
He smiled again, shaking his head. “If you remember? Ouch. Guess I’ve had some competition the last few years.” His eyes swept her face, lingering on her lips just long enough to make her cheeks feel hot.
She knew better but didn’t say a word.
Hunter inclined his head ever so slightly. “Thanks, Carl. I’ll see you later on. Have fun while you’re back in hell, Jo. I’ll see you around.”
That would be a bad idea.
Josie watched him leave. His back—and butt—disappeared as he climbed into the driver’s side of a huge dark blue one-ton extended cab truck. She saw him wink at her then and shook her head, a familiar ache pressing in on her. Time doesn’t heal all wounds. How many hours had she spent wishing she hadn’t pushed him away? That she hadn’t set him up for failure, because she had... No point in rehashing it again.
She turned back to the display counter to arrange the pastries she’d made at four-thirty this morning. Dad’s fall had shaken them both. He was the last stable thing she had left. He needed her—that was the only reason she’d come home. The last thing she wanted was to be back exactly where she’d been eleven years ago, working in her father’s bakery in a town she couldn’t wait to escape. Yes, she’d hoped coming back would dispel some of her fantasies about Hunter Boone. And, if she was really lucky, she could finally get her heart back. After seeing Hunter again, one thing was certain. As soon as her dad didn’t need her, she was gone.
* * *
HUNTER PUT THE TRUCK in Reverse and blew out a slow breath as he craned his head to check his blind spot.
“Was that her?” Eli asked, his voice and eyes cold.
Hunter glanced at his son but wasn’t up for an argument. “That’s Jo.”
“She’s not that pretty,” Eli grumbled.
“No? I think she is.” His voice was neutral. Pretty didn’t come close to describing Jo Stephens. Silver-gray eyes, wild curly hair, with curves to drive a man to drink. She was beautiful. There wasn’t a man alive who wouldn’t admit that. Except his son. “And she’s funny. Really funny.”
“Huh.” Eli wasn’t impressed.
Hunter knew Eli’s blue-green eyes—eyes his boy got from him—were watching him. He could feel Eli’s anger—over Jo. But there wasn’t much to say.
Amy, Eli’s mom, had done too good a job of trashing Jo. And as much as he’d like Eli to believe that Jo had nothing to do with the bitter end of his marriage to Amy, he knew better. Jo Stephens had held his heart since he was sixteen. And he didn’t mind too much. Seeing her this morning was like downing a pot of coffee—
“Did you get enough for everyone?” Eli interrupted.
Hunter smiled at his son. “I don’t know. But I got a lot.”
Eli grinned. “We’re growing boys, Dad.”
“I know, kid.” Hunter looked at Eli, taking in the slight sharpening of his features. His son was growing up. There were still traces of roundness on his ten-year-old body. In no time, his son would be all arms and legs, big feet and teenage awkwardness.
He was a good-looking boy. And in the years ahead, Eli Boone was going to be a good-looking man. More important, he was smart and kind and had solid common sense. Hunter was proud of that.
He’d done the best he could by his son. The two of them took care of each other with little complaining. Balancing his son, the ranch and teaching at the university veterinary hospital was hard work, but it was worth it. No matter what, he made sure Eli suffered through every school trip to the opera, the museums or anywhere else that broadened his son’s horizons. He knew there was a big world out there, and he wanted Eli to know it, too. He wouldn’t have his mistakes cause his son to miss out on anything.
“Uncle Fisher gonna make it to this one?” Eli asked.
“He said he’d be there.” Hunter nodded. And his brothers always kept their word.
Eli nodded, too, then said, “Dara thinks she’s gonna get a one.”
“She can dream, can’t she?” he teased gently.
Dara Greer had joined the local Future Farmers of America club this year. Her family had moved from the city and her folks wanted her to “fit in.” Problem was she was nervous around animals and uncomfortable in the show ring.
“I know.” Eli grew thoughtful. “But she’s sweet. And she’s trying really hard. You know?”
&nbs