“Freedom comes with being an adult,” Hunter said, patting the teen on the arm. “You get to make your own decisions and live with the consequences.”
“Well, my mom is totally going to side-eye those jeans,” Tyler warned him. “She made me change three times.”
“I can live with side-eye,” Hunter said as he started toward the vineyard’s cellar. He’d almost made it to the stairs when he spotted Jon walking out of the men’s room. They were on a crash course to meet at the stairway at the same time and there was no way to avoid it without being totally obvious.
Great. Just great. He’d barely gotten out of obnoxious traffic and now he was supposed to play nice with his least favorite person on the planet?
When he and Jon met up a few paces away from the staircase, Hunter gave Esme’s fiancé a quick nod of acknowledgement. “Jon.”
Jon didn’t greet him back. Instead, the man’s hand planted itself in the center of Hunter’s chest to stop him from heading down the stairs. Hunter could have pushed past it, but it was clear Jon wanted him to stop.
This was going to be fun.
“I want you away from my fiancée,” Jon said.
Hunter let out a belabored sigh. “Still leading with that broken record schtick? You need new material, man.”
“Don’t play dumb,” Jon said, his voice only a shade above a whisper even though there was no one around them to hear what he was saying. Only Tyler, and he was at least fifty feet away.
“How about you don’t touch me while you’re trying to insult me,” Hunter suggested.
“How about you stop pretending like your Esme’s brother when we both know that’s not what you’re about? I see you Hunter. I know what you’re thinking.”
At that, Hunter forcibly removed Jon’s hand from his chest.
Seriously, where did this guy get off? He and Esme hadn’t talked or texted or anything for over a week. They were both toeing Jon’s stupid line and the guy was responding by launching into this stupid speech again? The dude was a broken record.
Barely holding onto his temper, Hunter eyed the other guy. “I thought Esme was done dating guys with God complexes. Guess not.”
“Yeah?” Jon sneered. “Well, I don’t have to be God to see that the only person buying the whole act that you’re a brother to Esme is Esme. Everyone else sees what I see.”
“And what’s that? A universe with you at the center of it?”
Jon shook his head, no part of him baited by the insult. “A man tripping at the heels of a woman who barely even notices him.”
Man, it would feel good to punch this guy. Hunter let his fist clench and release before replying. “Thanks for the insightful assessment, Dr. Phil. Now aren’t you the guest of honor, or something? Shouldn’t we head down?”
“Not until I make something abundantly clear.”
“Abundantly?” Hunter quipped. “Please don’t overextend yourself on my behalf.”
“Trust me. I won’t,” Jon said. “I’ll keep things simple so there is no room to misunderstand. You’re in love with my fiancée. You know it; I know it; and I’m pretty sure all your friends and family know it. Apparently, up until now you’ve all had the unspoken agreement to not talk about it. That ends today because I’m not going to sit around and wait for you to come between me and Esme, like you’ve somehow gotten her to call things off with all the men she’s dated before me.”
“Man, if that was true, you’d think you would be grateful to me.”
“Sure. Why not?” Jon said with a shrug. “Thanks for keeping Esme single long enough for me to meet her, Hunter. I do appreciate that, but I’m not going to make the same mistake all those other men did and keep you around. That’s why I’m here to tell you that after tonight, you’re not invited to any more parties. Anywhere we are, you’re not welcome. And while propriety demands we invite you to the wedding, know that your presence isn’t truly requested. Is that abundant enough for you?”
For a moment, Hunter was speechless. All he could think was, This is who Esme is marrying? This is her dream man? Then he swallowed back all the things he wanted to say and did his best to stick to the high road.
“You speak pretty confidently for a man who can still count on one hand the number of weeks he’s known all the people he’s dealing with. You don’t get to rewrite decades of history because you have your panties in a twist.”
“I don’t need to,” Jon said with confidence. “Esme sees things my way, which means her parents won’t be that far behind. Once they’re onboard, everything will fall like dominoes from there.”
That brought Hunter up short. “There is no way Esme is down with everything you just said.”
Jon didn’t flinch. “Then why am I saying it to you?” He stepped to the side, motioning down the steps. “Go ahead. Ask her about it. Be my guest. She’ll be upset that I talked to you and not her. She wanted to drag this all out a little longer, but we’re men. We’d rather cut right to the chase and skip the wasted time, wouldn’t we?”
Suddenly the world didn’t feel right—as if the axis it rotated on had come loose, causing a jarring quake under Hunter’s feet. He tried to keep his poker face, he really did, but it was hard when his stomach suddenly didn’t feel right.
There was no way Esme could be onboard with uninviting him to all the parties…to the wedding. For as long as they’d know what marriage was, Esme had declared that Hunter would be her Man of Honor. He’d always laughed it off, but it meant something that she wanted him in the wedding party. The groom was negotiable. He was not.
That meant something. Right? Something like that didn’t change overnight…right?
Apparently not.
“I think I will ask her,” Hunter said as evenly as he could. He wouldn’t give a man like Jon the pleasure of seeing him off balance. The guy was a tool, and Hunter was about to find out whether or not Esme was aware of that little fact.
Not giving Jon another look, Hunter moved down the stairs and crossed over to the large wood doors that led into the cellar. His breathing felt off and his head felt a little dizzy, but he ignored all that and focused on moving forward.
When Audra greeted him right inside the door, Hunter didn’t even try for a smile. “Hey, where’s Esme?”
Audra cast a critical glance at his jeans before gesturing to her left. “She’s with Davis and Bette at the tasting table.”
“Thank you,” Hunter said, spotting her and crossing the room in several quick steps. When he arrived at her side, he gripped her arm to get her attention.
“Hunter,” she said with surprise. He didn’t let her say whatever she had planned next.
“Mind if I borrow Esme for a sec?” he said with yet another plastic smile and when Davis and Bette responded with confused nods, he led her off to the side.
“Hunter,” she hissed. “What are you doing?”
“I’m asking you a question,” he said, keeping his voice down as well. “I just had a little chat with your fiancé.”
She blinked and dropped eye contact, glancing to the door where Jon was now walking in. When she made eye contact with her fiancé, she held it and muttered. “Did you now?”
“Yeah,” Hunter said. “He had some interesting things to say about where I am and am not invited after tonight. Know anything about that?”
The way she sighed and looked at the ground in response was his answer. She did. She knew.
Jon hadn’t been lying.
If the world had felt unbalanced beneath his feet a few moments ago, it was completely off the rails now.
“This isn’t the time or the place, Hunter,” she said softly. “Can we talk about this tomorrow? Just you and me?”
If Esme had pulled a baseball bat out of thin air and slugged him with it, he couldn’t have been more surprised.
She wanted to wait until after the party tonight to drop the knowledge bomb on him that their friendship was officially over? That this was the first and only engagement par
ty he was invited to? That now that Esme had a ring on her finger she didn’t need him anymore?
Of course she wanted to wait, a little voice inside him whispered. You’re giving one of the toasts tonight. She needs you on good behavior.
Esme was handling him like one of her stupid clients. Why? Did she seriously think he’d fly off the handle and ruin her precious night?
“Hunter?” Esme said, resting her hand on his arm. He jerked away from her touch.
“Sure,” he snapped. “Whatever works for you, Esme.”
Then he walked off and let Davis, Bette, and Esme finish their precious conversation.
Chapter 26
While everyone around Hunter ate and drank, Hunter swirled the liquid in his glass and watched his friends and family interact with Jon.
The man was suave when he wanted to be; Hunter would give him that. He wore the right suits, said the right words, and charmed the right people.
What a hero.
He was also several inches shorter than Hunter, which meant Esme fit neatly against his shoulder as they stood and spoke with all their guests. Esme looked so content as she reclined against Jon, and Hunter wasn’t the only one who had noticed. The last person who had commented on Jon and Esme within Hunter’s earshot had called them “two peas in a pod” as if there were awards to be won in the category.
Well, there weren’t.
In that moment, Hunter was very glad he hadn’t been drinking that night, because otherwise he might have gone so far as announcing that fact to everyone. There are no awards for being two peas in a pod, everyone. Oh, and by the way, you should meet this guy when he isn’t trying to impress you. He’s a bit of a prick.
But, of course, no one wanted to hear that. No one wanted to hear anything from Hunter tonight except for a glowing toast endorsing the golden couple.
He still hadn’t written anything, although he had googled a generic speech and printed it out. It was in his pocket now, but he hadn’t practiced it and reading the prepackaged speech was pretty much out of the question now, thanks to his dyslexia. Reading on the best of days usually didn’t go that well for Hunter, but when he was seething mad?
Yeah, that wasn’t happening.
So he sat and swirled and watched and tried to imagine what in the world he could say that wouldn’t earn him more frowns than his jeans had already earned him.
Then it hit him: Why try? Why not be honest?
There wasn’t a face at this party that he hadn’t known for the better part of twenty years—well, except Jon. His smug mug was as new as it was unwelcome in Hunter’s book. But everyone knew Hunter and they’d know if he vomited some fake, glowing speech their direction.
So why should he?
Why not be honest?
The idea grew on Hunter as the night went on and the praise for Jon became more and more abundant. The clincher was when Jon’s best man stood up and gave a speech that proved he’d probably met Esme all of once, and everyone in attendance nodded and beamed as the guy praised Esme in the most generic of terms.
According to whatever the best man’s name was, Esme was kind and compassionate and a joy to all those who met her.
Seriously? The guy had clearly never been within earshot of Esme when an ice cream truck passed in July playing Christmas music. That would redefine the guy’s definition of “joy to all those around her.” Yet everyone ooohed and ahhhhed and clapped until the guy sat and Jon gave his bestie an appreciative slap on the back with a look that said, Well done.
Then everyone in the future wedding party looked at Hunter expectantly. It was his turn.
In that moment, Hunter had a choice to make. He could either repeat the same lame puffery the best man had, or he could give the speech that had been building up in him like a sneeze all night.
Be nice now and freak out later, or let it all hang out? That was the question. And one quick glance at Jon’s arrogant face gave Hunter his answer.
Hunter stood, all eyes on him expectantly while his mom gave him a smile of encouragement. In the back of his mind, the words of the crazy cookie lady looped in his head about her cookies tasting like love and comparing vanilla wafers to heavenly flavors. When the cookie lady wasn’t talking in his mind, Luke’s voice took over, telling him what a loser he was for not even trying to be a man Esme could choose. She wasn’t married yet, and it was pretty clear that being a third wheel wasn’t something that was going to happen.
So what did he have to lose?
Nothing. Not a single thing.
With Jon’s threat that this was the last event Hunter was welcome at and Esme’s unbelievable agreement to not contact him until Jon felt good about it—which would be never—Hunter had absolutely nothing to lose.
Well, maybe some dignity, but whatever. He’d never really held that in high regard anyway.
Decision made, Hunter picked his champagne glass up off the table. “As you all know, we’re gathered here to celebrate Esme’s engagement to Dr. Jon Bauer.”
There were a few Here-heres and congratulatory looks toward the couple.
“What is less well known, but probably pretty predictable, is the fact that Esme’s fiancé hates my guts and has informed me that this is the last social gathering I’m welcome to attend with Esme in attendance.”
The room grew still. If a mouse sneezed, they all would have heard it.
“Hunter,” Esme whispered softly.
He ignored her. “Normally I would tell Jon exactly where he could file his requests, but as it turns out, Esme is on board with his demands so that ties my hands a bit.”
Two seats down, Jon stood. “This is not appropri—”
“Not appropriate?” Hunter laughed over him before gesturing to the guests. “You may be meeting all of these people tonight for the first time, Jon, but the people here are basically family to me. They have every reason to know why I won’t show up to the next party. Or the next. Because if you honestly think the people here wouldn’t notice me suddenly disappearing, then you have a lot to learn about the friends and family group you’re marrying into.” He looked over the group. “We’re nosy and we’re honest, am I right?”
A few smiles and nods met Hunter, but almost everyone seemed a bit too on edge for a casual response. That was because they knew Hunter, and they knew he wasn’t done.
“So while this is a toast to Esme’s happiness and to celebrate the man she wants to spend the rest of her life with, this is also a toast of confession.”
“Hunter—” Esme hissed.
He kept ignoring her. “Full disclosure is that Jon thinks I’ve spent my entire life being Esme’s friend so that I can lure her into an affair as soon as she gets married. Apparently, I’ve been waiting all these years for the opportunity to be a home wrecker and ruin Esme’s happily ever after.”
Jon crossed behind Esme and put his hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “I think it’s time you sat down.”
“I think it’s time you took your hands off me and sat down yourself,” Hunter said, letting the man know with his eyes that he was 100% willing to punch him. “After tonight, you have things your way, so why don’t you let me talk to my family?”
It couldn’t have been clearer that Jon didn’t want to sit down. To Hunter’s surprise, it was actually Esme’s dad who got Jon to comply. He didn’t say anything. He simply looked at his future son-in-law and gestured for him to move away.
Stuck between pleasing his father-in-law and going rogue, Jon chose to do as Gary requested.
Smart Jon.
Hunter looked back to the group. All the smiles were gone, and the thickness in the air had nothing to do with the cool, damp air of the cellar.
“Look,” Hunter said. “I know that a lot of you thought Esme and I would end up together. Pretty much everyone has hinted at it over the years, but the truth is that it was never going to happen. There is a difference between love and being in love, and I have never been Esme’s type.” He gestured Jon’s direction.
“Her type is both intelligent and educated. He is socially and politically active. He does good in the world and is a man she can be proud of.”
Crickets. No one was giving him a hint of a reaction one way or the other, which was a little unnerving, but whatever. In for a penny? In for a pound.
“Truth is, she’s not even attracted to me. Never has been. She’s always said that if she wanted to see blond hair and blue eyes, she’d look in a mirror.” He gestured to Jon again. “And as you can see, she’s found everything she’s always wanted in the man you’ve met tonight. He’s a doctor. He’s a philanthropist. He’s tall, dark, and handsome. And I’ll promise you that I did my version of the best to get on his good side, but he has exactly zero interest in pretending to be my friend, because Jon and I have exactly one thing in common: We both love Esme Taylor.”
That earned a few small reactions from the crowd. All female.
Hunter turned and looked at Esme, whose expression was an unreadable blank slate. “Esme, I swear that I planned to support your marriage and remain your friend to whatever degree you would let me until the end of time. What I never expected was that you would agree to cut me out entirely. But here we are—”
“Hunt—”
“And since we’re here, I might as well leave everything out on the table.” Out of the corner of his eye, Hunter saw his mom start to panic a bit and whisper something to his dad. Hunter didn’t let it stop him. “Jon wants me to disappear because he’s convinced I’m in love with Esme.”
“Son,” his dad said, clearing his throat as he stood.
“No one here should be surprised to hear me say that this accusation is, of course, totally true.” He turned and looked Esme in the eye. “Of course I’m in love with you, and have been since before I even knew my own name. But it’s never mattered before, and I hate that it matters now. I hate that the fact that I can’t hide my feeling from the man you love is going to keep me from being around you for the rest of our lives. In fact, there really aren’t words to express how much that pisses me off, but whatever. It is what it is.”
King of the Friend Zone (Power of the Matchmaker) Page 14
