“Do you want to come in?” I nodded toward my room and the vintage Nintendo set collecting dust under my TV. “It’s been a while since you beat me at Joust.”
His gaze swept over my messy room and I know I saw a blip of longing in his eyes. This used to be a summer treat for us. Playing video games in my room or sneaking out to the backyard in the middle of the night just to talk beneath the stars. I’d lost count of the number of times we’d stayed up way too late together. But when he shook his head slightly and smiled sadly at me, the excitement I felt at reviving those old times faded away.
“I really shouldn’t, Char.”
My shoulders drooped. “Why? Got something big going on in the morning?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m not meeting with the Oakie boys ’til nine to train at the arena and then it’s your pie contest.”
“Then, what?” I gave him a half-smile. “You worried I’ll keep you up all night and you won’t get enough beauty sleep?”
His chest rose and fell with a heavy breath as he frowned painfully at me. “I just...shouldn’t. It’s your bedroom. And your parents are sleeping.”
I threw my head back and laughed. He’d been in my room a million times before—both with my parents asleep and awake. It was no different now.
“You’re not serious, right?” I wiped the tears out of my eyes. “Hunter, come on. It’s just me.”
“Yeah...just you.”
As I waited for him to come to his senses and climb through the window, my gaze searched his hesitant expression. The light from my bedroom had fallen on his face in a way that highlighted the sharper angle of his cheekbones and jawline. It also revealed a faint white scar that I hadn’t noticed before. It ran perpendicular to his lips and stopped just short of his chin. Had he gotten it from a bull like Marshmallow?
I had the sudden and crazy desire to reach out and run my finger gently over the scar and then trace the cupid’s bow of his lips, just like the wood grain on the windowsill. But instead, I kept my hands firmly where they were. That was not best friend behavior. Neither was the slight burst of warmth in my stomach as he gave me a soft smile.
“Maybe another night, okay?”
I nodded and met his gaze, glad to be thinking about something other than that scar and its very close proximity to his lips. “Sure. I’m holding you to it.”
“Good.” His eyes twinkled as he wagged his eyebrows. “By the way, can’t wait to try your pie tomorrow. Ms. Gentry asked me and a couple of the rodeo guys to be judges for the contest. Pretty sure I’m going to go into a sugar coma, but it’ll be worth it.”
I squealed as quietly as I could. This was perfect. Hunter loved my mom’s brown sugar pie. With my best friend as one of the judges, there was no way I could lose. Sarah was going to eat my dust.
“I’ll see you tomorrow for the contest, then,” I said, shooting him a smile.
He shoved off the windowsill and returned my smile. “Night, Char.”
Watching him walk off into the darkening night was kind of like watching a hero walk off at the end of a movie. I rested my cheek in my hand and leaned my elbow on the sill, trying to keep him in view for as long as possible, until he was gone.
For the first time, I was kind of looking forward to this competition.
If Sarah thought she could treat me like trash and flirt with my best friend, then she had another thing coming.
I couldn’t wait to win this thing.
Chapter Ten
“You’ve got this in the bag, baby. Or should I say, in the pie?”
Mom giggled as we sat on fold-up chairs in the arts and craft building at the fairgrounds waiting for the competition to begin. They’d set up a massive make-shift kitchen with electric ovens and white rectangular tables for the contestants to use to prepare their recipes. At my feet lay three cloth bags filled with the ingredients I would need to create my winning pie. I’d watched Mom make it enough times; I was pretty confident I could nail it.
Sarah should’ve been sweating in her over-priced gladiator sandals.
“Why didn’t I bring my portable curling iron?” Lexi asked, fussing over the curls she was currently strategically placing around my face. She’d decided a bun was the best look for baking. With a maniacal glint in her eyes, she held up a fancy bobby pin with a star on the end and stabbed it into the bun.
“Ow, take it easy.” I jerked away from her forceful hand. “It’s not good to bleed into a brown sugar pie.”
She bit her bottom lip and aimed a can of hairspray at my hair, totally ignoring my pleas. “Almost done...there. You’re picture perfect. Want to see?”
I swatted away her handheld mirror. There was no way I was going to look at the damage Lexi had done. As soon as this was all over, my plan was to run to the nearest bathroom and scrub off the hundred layers of makeup she’d pasted on me.