But all his swagger says he does know it. That somehow he won’t be in trouble. “C’mon.”
“Where are we going?”
“Your brother’s.”
Severe panic flushes my senses. “What? But your bike, we can’t leave it here.” It’s a lame excuse. I’m stalling. But wecannotgo to Hunter’s together.
“I’m not bringing you to your brother’s on my bike. It’ll be fine here.”
“Bu-but he can’t?—”
“We’re not telling him about us. We’re just gonna have dinner. Do you have a better idea?”
I don’t. If I show up with no one, Hunt will think I’m avoiding bringing my new beau by. If Trav’s a witness to what happened, that’ll help put this to bed.
But, dammit, it’s Hunter and Hunter’s scary as fuck sometimes. I don’t wanna be under his scrutiny at all.
Iknock, but it’s only a formality. I use my key to enter while making a stink about the fact that I knock on doors and Dash doesn’t.
“Yeah, I got it. My son needs to learn some manners.”
“Actually, no. Just around you,” I’m saying as Hunter arrives in the entryway. Had he heard our old married couple style bickering? He looks between us.
“What happened to your date?” Hunter asks, looking around Trav because Trav couldn’t possibly be my date.
Trav holds up his bruised fist. “A fist to the face.”
What the actual fuck, Trav?
“You had to fight Dirk’s date off him?”
Trav nods. “They met outside the restaurant, I saw what was happening and lent my assistance. I insisted that I escort him after what happened.”
Hunter’s glare isn’t for Travis. “Thank you, Trav. Why don’t you come in and eat with us?”
I do a double-take. Did my brother invite Trav to a family dinner? He’s never invited anyone other than Dash, and that was when we were younger.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Trav says to my shock and horror.
I might die tonight. I don’t know how we’re gonna pull this off. The only reason my friends haven’t noticed is because they’re too self-involved.
Hunter made Boulder stew and homemade bread. When we were younger, he was not the chef he is now, but he learned because of me. He wanted me to have better than fast food andshit from a box, which is why he pulled me aside the first time he saw what we had in the cupboards at the Alderchuck house. It was laden with Casey’s storeroom of Kraft Dinner.
He said I was learning how to cook if it killed me, despite my protests that Stacey cooked most of the meals in our house, aside from some meal prep when it was my turn.
“Wow, what a spread,” Trav comments.
“Can Dirk get you a beer, sir?”
I have to pinch my cheeks to keep from laughing—Trav’s just been titled the elder in the room.
“I think I’ll opt for some of that wine I see on the table. You mind if I pour?” Trav’s all about his fancy wine serving skills he made us learn at the restaurant. “And sir was my father—call me Trav, even the kids do.”
I know he’s throwing Hunter off our scent, but I still cringe at being thrown in with the “kids”. I guess I have to let that one go, though. It would be weird if he singled me out.
We get settled with the hearty meal. Trav’s such a personable guy and a great guest. He has Hunter roaring with laughter. His compliments are genuine, and it’s not long before Hunter’s offering up his secret bread recipe.
“The trick is making a good sourdough starter, but it’s kind of a bitch. I’ll give you some of mine.”
