It's About Time (Hunt Family #5)

by Brooke St. James

  I cleared my throat because I didn't trust my voice. "I heard you were looking at locations for restaurants," I said.

  "I wish you'd come to work for me," he said. "I could really use you in the front of the house."

  I laughed. "I make way better money doing hair," I said. "I just stay on at my grandma's place for fun."

  "That's too bad," Evan said, shaking his head. "You didn't even ask me how much I would pay you. You just assumed it was less than you make doing hair."

  "It would be, trust me, or you'd be paying me too much. You could get someone better qualified than me to run a restaurant for the amount of money I make doing hair." I paused. "Did that make sense out loud? Because it makes sense in my head."

  "I think I get it, but I still think you'll change your mind eventually." Evan wasn't bossy, but he had this certain confidence about him that made every one (including me) want to fall in line with his plans, whatever they were. I was just about ready to say I'd quit doing hair and work at his restaurant full time if he wanted me to—if he needed me.

  "I don't know what I'm doing in a real restaurant, anyway," I said.

  "Amy's is a real restaurant," he said.

  I laughed. "It's a little laid back. Basically, people are coming by my house to pick up some extra breakfast my grandma cooked, but thank you for believing in me."

  Amanda was at the salon when we arrived. She had the door locked since we were technically closed, but she ran over there and let us in when she saw us approaching.

  "Is that your truck?" was the first thing out of her mouth when she opened the door.

  "It is," Evan said. "Do you like it?"

  "How'd you ever get Mr. Porter to sell you that thing?" she asked, staring at it in its parking spot. "That is his Bronco, isn't it?"

  "How do you know him?" Evan asked.

  "My dad's into cars," she said. "All those guys know each other."

  "I paid more than it was worth, if you want to know the truth about why he sold it." He smiled. "He wouldn't part with it easily."

  "I'll bet he raked you over the coals," she said, shaking her head at the thought of how much Mr. Porter loved that truck.

  "It wasn't too bad, actually. He's got grandkids coming," Evan said. "I think I hit him up at a good time."

  "Nothing is coincidence," I said.

  "What are y'all doing here?" Amanda asked.

  "I'm cutting Evan's hair," I said. "He hasn't had it cut since the last time I did it."

  Amanda gasped. "That was like a year ago," she said.

  "Almost," Evan said.

  "I saw that ad you did where you can see the scar on your leg," she said. "That's crazy how bad that accident was."

  In addition to his broken leg and gash to the face, the pavement had chewed the skin on his leg up as he slid over it. There was scaring smattered about his thigh and lower leg and much of it had been visible in an ad he did for a swimwear company recently. I had seen the shirtless ad Amanda was referring to, and it made me jealous that it was the first one that popped into her mind when she saw Evan.

  "I had to do six months of physical therapy," he said as a response to her statement about his accident.

  "Oh, man, that must have been bad," she said seeming overly concerned.

  I loved Amanda, I really did but the way she was behaving made me wonder if I would ever get used to the way girls throw themselves at Evan. Not that I had any right to say what girls did around him, because I didn't.

  I led Evan to my station and briefly discussed the fact that I would take off a few inches, basically giving him the same haircut as I did last time.

  I took my time cutting Evan's hair because I was having so much fun talking to him. We laughed and told stories, and one topic led to another until we'd been goofing off for an hour and a half when the same haircut would have normally taken me forty-five minutes or less.

  Amanda was in the salon with us, but she had music playing, and we spoke quietly enough that we weren't being overheard. It was the most fun I'd ever had doing a haircut, and it wasn't just because I got to reach out and touch his hair the whole time. It was because I truly had fun with him. His sense of humor was so similar to mine that it was as if we already had long-time inside jokes in place even though we were just getting to know each other.

  I wanted to tell him about ten times during our conversation that I was single, but I could never get the words out of my mouth. We were on our way out when he took a fifty-dollar-bill out of a money clip and handed it to me.

  "I do not want that," I said, pushing his hand away.

  He tried to push it back toward me, but we were headed out of the salon at the time, so we paused our debate to say a quick goodbye to Amanda.

  He tried to hand it to me again as we went outside. "It's not enough," he said, trying continually to make me take it.

  "I seriously don't want it, though," I said.

  Evan was not a client to me. It was hard to explain, but he was already somehow like family. I honestly couldn’t imagine taking money to cut his hair.

  "I had fun doing that," I said, dodging his hand as he waved the money at me. "If you try to give me that, I'll feel rejected right now," I said, smiling at him.

  He cocked his head at me as if trying to understand what I meant by that statement. "Are you saying I'm on your free haircut list?" he asked.

  I shrugged and looked away shyly.

  "Cause that's a boyfriend privilege."

  "Nu-uh, I give my mom free haircuts. And Stan. And a few other people."

  "How about the pilot?" he asked, opening the passenger's door for me. "Does he get free haircuts?" he added when I didn't answer right away.

  I moved to the open doorway of the truck, but didn't climb in right away. I turned to stare right at Evan. "No," I said, my voice coming out more tentatively than I intended.

  Evan put his fist to his mouth and let out a teasing laugh. "Oh, the pilot doesn't get his hair cut for free and I do?" he asked.

  "I don't guess I cut his hair anymore," I said. I was speaking in a almost whispered casual tone that he didn't catch right away.

  "What?" he asked.

  I smiled and shook my head, not wanting to repeat myself. "Nothing."

  "What'd you say, Annabel?" he asked, moving closer and invading my space. It was either be right next to him or turn and sit down in the truck, and I really only wanted the first option.

  "Your hair looks good," I said, staring at his new cut, which was combed away from his face and was still slightly damp.

  "You said you don't cut that guy's hair anymore," he said.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. "If you heard me, then why'd you ask me what I said?"

  "Because I wanted to hear you repeat it."

  "I don't need to repeat it if you heard me perfectly the first time."

  "Is that what you said?" he asked.

  "Yeah," I answered after a brief hesitation.

  "What's that mean, Annabel?"

  "What do you mean, what's it mean?"

  "I mean what's it mean, Annabel? Are you telling me you're not dating that guy any more?"

  I shrugged since I was tragically embarrassed by the truth.

  "Did you break up with that guy?" he asked, moving to put his face in my line of vision so that I'd be forced to look at him.

  I smiled when our eyes met. "Possibly," I said, being elusive.

  He screwed up his face, regarding me like I was crazy for not coming clean. "Annabel," he said. He spoke my name with a whole ton of underlying meaning. He wanted me to be upfront and honest, and I was so shy about it that it was impossible to not be awkward. I sighed, knowing I was being ridiculous and I was going to have to come clean about it sometime.

  "I'm not seeing him anymore," I said with a shy smile as I glanced at the front of his T-shirt.

  "You broke up with him?" he asked.

  It took me a second to work up the nerve, but I nodded.

  "Like in your head, or actual
ly in front of him?"

  "In front of him," I said. "And it wasn't fun."

  "Please don't ever say that again," he said with a little smile.

  I laughed. "I mean he didn't make it easy. It was okay for me, though. I'm fine."

  "When did this breakup happen, might I ask?" he asked, leaning toward me in such a way that said he had me in his trap and there was no escape. I didn't want a way to escape. I was perfectly content in this particular trap.

  "The other day," I said.

  "The other day, like the day I came to this town?" Evan asked, leaning even closer.

  "Probably," I said unable to get a good breath of air into my lungs.

  "Annabel," he said with a serious but otherwise unreadable expression.

  "Yeah?"

  "Why in the world are you just telling me this?"

  "Telling you what?"

  He smiled. "You're hilarious," he said.

  "What?"

  "Why are you just sharing this piece of information with me after we've been hanging out all morning?"

  I smiled at him with wide eyes. "I didn't think I would really be able to tell you the right thing."

  "I'm not even sure what that means, but it's certainly not a good reason to make me think you still have a boyfriend all morning."

  "Would it matter?" I asked.

  "Would it matter?" he asked, repeating my question like he couldn’t possibly have heard me correctly.

  I giggled and shook my head. "Would it?" I asked, squirming as he got closer and closer.

  He put his mouth an inch from my ear, causing me to take an unsteady breath. "It would matter very much," he said.

  Chapter 13

  Evan was standing so close to me that I had trouble remembering to breathe. The car door was open, and the next logical step was for me to turn and sit down, but I couldn’t make myself do it—not with him right next to me.

  "It wasn't because of you," I said. "I don’t want you to think I broke up with him because of—"

  "Why would you not want me to think that?" he asked, not giving me the chance to finish.

  I shrugged shyly as I glanced down. He was several inches taller than me and broad in the chest. His presence was utterly manly, and he had the capability of rendering me speechless and breathless in a way no other man ever had. I glanced at him to see his full lips curved upward in a confident grin.

  "Why would you not want me to think that?" he repeated since I hadn't answered his question.

  "I don't know," I said, shyly. "I guess I just didn't want you to think it was about you or whatever."

  He smiled wryly at me, and we were both quiet for a few seconds before he finally said, "You're in trouble now," as if he was just stating a fact.

  I let out a little laugh. "I think you're the one who's in trouble," I said, sitting in the passenger's seat.

  Evan had been standing really close, and I was almost certain he was going to try to kiss me, but I couldn’t let it happen. The feeling of this whole moment being too good to be true was so overwhelming that my heart felt like it was about to jump out of my chest. I did the only logical thing, and put an end to it.

  Evan closed my door and crossed to the driver's side to get in. He was a tall guy with a muscular, athletic body, and I watched as he climbed into the seat. He smiled at me as he started the engine. "I was planning on taking you back to your car, but that was before," he said, pulling into traffic.

  "Before what?" I asked.

  "Before this new information came to light," he said.

  "Where are you bringing me now?" I asked, feeling giddy at the thought of going anywhere with him.

  I spent the rest of the day with Evan.

  First, he brought me to the three locations he was considering for his restaurant. He was buying into a casual but upscale restaurant idea he had discovered when he was in Florida one time on a photo shoot. They made traditional style tacos with fresh, local ingredients, and Evan had believed in the concept from the first one he tasted. He told me all about it, and I thought it would be a great fit for Charlotte. I gave him my opinions about all three of the locations he showed me, and he seemed receptive to and agreed with what I had to say.

  It was 4PM when we finished looking at locations. I assumed he would bring me back to my car at that point, but instead, he brought me to my mom's house to pick up Cupcake. My mom had a nice back yard with a small vegetable garden, and we ended up drinking coffee and sitting out there for a while.

  Evan invited me to his parents' house for dinner. His mom was apparently making lasagna and had already invited Evan to eat with them. I hesitated to intrude, but he insisted, saying they would be happy to have me over.

  I had been friends with Paige and Mia for several years, but I had never been to Dan and Christy's house. It was just as all-American as I imagined it would be. It was a white, two-story house with a landscaped yard—there was even a swing hanging from a large tree in the front yard. It was inviting and picturesque, and I couldn't help but smile as I imagined Evan and his siblings growing up there.

  I was reluctant about bringing Cupcake inside and asked if we should go ahead and put her in the back yard, but Evan insisted that his parent's would love her and it was fine to bring her in the house.

  "I brought company!" he called when he opened the front door.

  "Who is it?" I heard his mom yell through the barking.

  They obviously already had a dog in the house, because a flat-faced dog that I thought might be a Pug or a French Bulldog came up to us barking it's head off and freaking out to greet Cupcake. My dog might have been five times that dog's size, but you never would have known it with the way Cupcake stood there in a cowered, submissive pose while the smaller, feisty dog checked her out. Her tail was tucked, and her ears were slicked back as she stared at me with wide eyes waiting for the inspection to be over.

  "This is Nelson, girl," Evan said, reaching down to pet Cupcake's side to comfort her.

  Nelson quit barking and turned to walk away but quickly turned back to stare at Cupcake like he wanted her to follow him. Cupcake looked at me for approval like she was a four-year-old child rather than a dog.

  I unclipped the leash from the collar. "Go on," I said.

  Before Evan and I ever had the chance to round the corner from foyer to the living room, I could hear his parents' exclamations about Cupcake. She was a striking dog, and people always reacted.

  "Where'd you get this?" his mom yelled just as we walked around the corner.

  "At the biscuit place this morning," Evan said. "Oh, did you mean the dog?" he added, joking around.

  That comment made his mom glance at him, which caused her to notice me for the first time.

  "Hello there, Annabel, how are you doing?"

  "Just fine, thank you," I said. I held the leash, which was folded in my hand toward Cupcake, who was reluctantly getting the grand tour of the living room from Nelson. "Are you okay with her being in here?" I asked.

  Evan bumped my elbow when I asked that, and I glanced at him. "I told you she's fine," he said.

  "Of course she is," Christy said, petting Cupcake and staring at her like she was the most interesting looking dog she had ever seen. "You don't see too many of these, do you?" she asked, talking to me, but still staring at Cupcake.

  "They're a popular breed, but we don't meet too many of them," I said as Evan and I walked into the living room to join his parents. Evan's dad was sitting in a recliner, but he had gotten to the edge of it in order to reach out and pet Cupcake. His mom sat on a nearby ottoman when she went to get a closer look, and I walked over there to sit beside her. I reached out and hugged her with one arm as I sat down.

  "Hey sweetie," she said, squeezing me.

  "Hey," I said.

  "I'm glad you joined us," she said. "You're staying for dinner, aren't you?"

  "I already promised her the best lasagna she's ever eaten, so I hope it came out good," Evan said.

  Christy
looked at me with an exasperated expression. "I hope he did no such thing," she said, making me giggle.

  "He didn't, but I'm starving, so you could pretty much feed me a boot right now, and I'd think it was delicious.

  Everyone laughed at my statement before she said, "I hope it'll taste a little better than a boot, but I'm glad you don't have your heart set on the best thing you've ever eaten."

  "Well, it smells delicious," I said.

  Evan's dad put the dogs in the back yard while we ate. We would periodically glance out there from the dinner table and laugh at what a funny looking pair the two of them were.

  Eating dinner with his parents only intensified my feelings toward Evan, which were already at scary levels. Dan and Christy Hunt were still in love with each other after all these years, and that made them a fun couple to be around. We talked and laughed the whole time we ate. They told embarrassing stories about themselves and Evan, and made me spill a few of my own. I was completely and totally hooked on the Hunts. I knew they were a good family, but sharing a meal with them gave me a new understanding of that.

  Evan had a trip to Haiti coming up soon with the environmental group he was a part of. It was something he had already committed to before he decided to move back to Carolina, and his parents wanted to know all the details about it since it would run right into their annual Myrtle Beach trip and they would have to pick him up from the airport there.

  I knew they were going to Myrtle Beach, but it was the first I had heard about Evan's plans to go to Haiti beforehand. I wasn't necessarily surprised, since I knew Evan was a bit of a gypsy, but I can't lie and say I wasn't a little sad about it. He would be leaving in three days, and I wouldn't see him again until after they were back from the beach.

  During the conversation, he invited me to go to Myrtle Beach with them, and Dan and Christy insisted I'd be welcome. As much as I wished it were a possibility, I had to decline. It was wedding season, and Paige and Mia would already be away for the week, so I knew there was no way to make it happen. Believe me, I wanted to say I could go, (or at least say I could consider it) but my schedule was already full for the week. There was simply no way it could happen. I tried not to be bummed out about Evan's back-to-back trips, but it was difficult. I did my best to act like I didn't care when he was talking to his parents about it.