Page 29

“Oh,” I smile brightly as the excitement I had in the store renews. “This is my new guitar. I just bought it.”

“You play the guitar?”

“Yeah. My dad taught me as a kid, and I’ve been dying to play lately. I usually play all the time, but since I didn’t bring a guitar with me, I really missed it.”

“Do you sing, too?”

My heart stutters, and my brain short circuits. The question isn’t one I thought I would have to answer. I suppose I brought it upon myself with the whole guitar purchase. Anyone would askit. Hunter just doesn’t realize what a loaded question that is for me. If I were to admit I sing, would he ask to listen? Would he then recognize my voice? What then?

I realize I’ve been standing here silent, Hunter looking at me expectantly and probably thinking I’m crazy for longer than normal. It’s probably best to just admit it and deal with the consequences.

“Yes. Sometimes. You know, just for fun, in the living room.Alone.”

There, that wasn’t too weird. Right? Totally normal response.

“Oh. Well, that’s a shame. The local bar, Blue Moon, has a rather popular karaoke night. I’m sure everyone would love some new blood in the mix. There’s only so many times you can listen to Dottie sing ABBA off-key before your ears start to bleed.”

His easy-going reply has my nerves settling and shoulders relaxing.

“I don’t know, I like ABBA.”

“You won’t after hearing her belt out Dancing Queen off-key for the hundredth time. It really is an assault on the senses. Just know,” he adds in a lighter seriousness. “That if anyone else finds out you can sing, you’re going to get a lot of guilt tripping and peer pressure to participate. So, if you don’t want to sing in public, I’d hide that guitar before someone sees.”

At his declaration, I start looking around the street to see if anyone is watching us. A few people are mulling up and down the street and in the storefronts. Thankfully, we’re in front of the empty shop with a for lease sign hanging in the window. No one within our immediate vicinity. It’s still possible someone may have already seen me with the guitar case, though. Hopefully, not Dottie. It sounds as if she is the karaoke queen and the instigator of all strong-handed entries.

“Will do. So, you’re the mayor, huh?” I ask, diverting attention away from me and moving it to him. Hoping to bypass any more talk of singing, especially in public.

His cheeks pinken, and he makes a noncommittal noise in his throat, which makes me giggle. This strong, attractive man is bashful about being the mayor.

“Yes, I am. I guess I’m just not used to telling people they usually already know,” he admits with a smothered grin.

It’s like he’s trying not to smile too much. He keeps catching himself and pulling back into a neutral expression. Reverting into a disinterested posture, yet he continues to appear interested. The signals he’s giving are very confusing indeed. I can’t tell if he’s interested, not interested, impartial, or just being friendly. Perhaps it's part of his mayoral duties? It’s all too confusing to understand.

“And mister handsy?” I tilt my chin in the direction Roman went. “Where does he work? If there’s somewhere I should avoid, I’d like to know.”

Hunter scoffs and even sneers. “He’s not a resident of Snowberry. Just passing through. Hopefully, he’ll be gone soon.”

“But you know him. Have you met before?”

“In a manner of speaking. I know his boss,” he says vaguely.

More half-truths. I have a feeling Hunter keeps a lot to himself. I doubt he’ll answer, but I decide to keep asking anyway, just in case he deigns to divulge any important information.

“And who is his boss?”

“No one you need to bother yourself with. Just steer clear of him and anyone with him, and you’ll be fine.”

Hunter refortifies his stiff posture and takes a step back, making space between us that says everything his words keep mixing up.

Not interested.

My heart sinks a little, and the part of me that reacted to his voice and attention churns with melancholy. I realize I want him to be interested because I’m interested.

“Anyway, have a nice day, and if you have any issues around town or with the cabin, you can contact Ginger or my office at Town Hall.”

He keeps backing away, taking measured steps back in the direction he came from. Probably a good thing. Getting involved with someone right now isn’t a good idea. Not only because of the train wreck of a relationship I just got out of but because I’m literally living on the lamb right now. I have no idea what my future will be, where I’ll be, what I’ll be. A pop star, a musician, a recluse, a nobody.

Everything may seem calm on the surface, but underneath the pristine exterior is a maelstrom of chaos and uncertainty. Of fear for the future and the day when someone recognizes me and the paparazzi reappear. Or the day when my mother finds me and manipulates me back into submission. That is my greatest fear. Not being able to retake control of my life without my mother stealing the reigns right out of my hands.