“So…good kisses, boring cookies,” Miss Pearl said in summary.
“Sounds right to me,” Jon said, reaching his hand out to Esme as a signal that he was ready to go.
A little embarrassed at Jon’s frankness, Esme slipped her hand into his and tried to end on a different note. “Thank you for both the pictures and the cookie. It was a great excuse for a kiss.”
“I’m glad,” the older woman said with a sincere smile. “Much happiness to both of you.”
“Thank you,” Jon said with a smile that was a bit too practiced to be genuine. “To you, as well.”
When Jon gave her hand a light squeeze, Esme took the hint and started away from the spot.
“Someone needs to introduce that woman to sugar,” he said under his breath and Esme chuckled in response before taking another bite.
As a foodie who came from a long line of foodies, it bothered her that she couldn’t taste the ingredients in the cookie. Even if it was bland, she should be able to taste the building blocks.
“Are you seriously going to eat the rest of that?” Jon said after her second bite.
“I’m trying to taste it.”
“There’s nothing to taste,” he said, clearly guiding them towards the nearest garbage can.
“There’s always something to taste,” Esme countered. “But I can’t even tell what kind of flour she used…it’s like all the flavors are in there somewhere, but really, really muted. You know?”
Jon took another bite. “It’s like a vanilla wafer. It’s fine, but there’s nothing that makes me want to eat the whole thing.”
“At least wait until she can’t see you throw it out,” Esme said. “No need to be rude about it.”
“Fine,” he said. “But how about we go back to the car and I get you a real dessert worthy of celebrating the fact that we get to kiss each other for the rest of our lives?”
At the mention of another dessert, Esme abandoned the rest of her cookie and handed it to Jon to throw away with his. “Now that is an idea I can fully get behind.”
Chapter 2
Tracking her best friend down had never been hard for Esme. If Hunter wasn’t with her, he was almost always in one of four places—at work, helping Luke flip his most recent house, working out at the boxing gym, or hanging out with the guys from the fire station. Even if Esme couldn’t track Hunter via half a dozen shared apps on their phones, she would still have known where to find him the morning after she and Jon celebrated their engagement.
To some people, work relationships were obligatory and forgotten the moment they clocked out at the end of a shift. But Hunter’s fellow firemen were his family, and family meals were a thing that happened often.
Today, about twenty firemen had made it to an early afternoon picnic—some with dates, some without. Hunter sat dateless a few yards from the barbecue. The empty plate on the ground next to his camping chair told Esme that he was done eating, but the bottle dangling absently from his fingertips was a clear indication that he wasn’t trying to escape the people he was talking to. So it was no surprise to see that Daryl was sitting across from Hunter, along with a woman Esme assumed to be Daryl’s date. Esme hadn’t seen her before.
Several people waved to Esme as she crossed the park to Hunter, and she was careful to keep her left hand with its new ring hidden in her pocket as she waved back. She hadn’t told anyone about the engagement yet—not even her mom. She wanted Hunter to be the first to know. Once he, her family, and Grace—her soul sister—knew, she could start posting stuff on social media. But her first stop was definitely Hunter.
Keeping her left hand awkwardly plunged into her shallow front pocket, Esme did her best to control the nervous pounding of her heart as she covered the last few steps to Hunter’s group.
“Nah, that’s not how it works,” Hunter was saying as Esme walked up behind him. “Daryl is the token black guy of the station. His job is more secure than any of ours.”
Esme’s pace faltered as wariness washed over her.
Why? Why did Hunter have to ruin a beautiful Saturday morning with claims like that? Esme looked at Daryl’s date to see how she was taking the comment and saw the woman shaking her head emphatically. Great. The conversation she was walking in on only had the potential of going one of two ways: bad or not as bad.
Yes, Daryl was black and one of Hunter’s best friends, which meant they often joked about racial double standards between themselves. But Hunter’s cavalier attitude may not go over so well with Daryl’s date, whose skin was a few shades lighter than Daryl’s. The last thing most women of color—or any woman, really—needed on a bright and pleasant morning was a blond-haired, blue-eyed white man lecturing her about race.
Esme felt the urge to quietly back away from the conversation and come back later but, unfortunately, Daryl had already spotted her. There was no turning back now.
“Until season two,” Daryl’s date argued, holding up as many fingers. “Daryl would get to be your best friend and confidant through season one, then he would have to die in season two for the sake of your white-man pain and character growth.”
Ah, TV tropes. That’s what they were talking about. It wasn’t the first time the topic came up between Hunter and his coworkers, and it wouldn’t be the last.
As firemen, the guys joked a lot about death. Hunter told Esme once that it was because of how much tragedy they saw every week. San Francisco had the busiest fire stations in the country. There was no such thing as a slow day, and Hunter’s station was one of two stations that got called into the gnarliest situations. It was a lot of high-risk stuff that didn’t always have a happy ending.
Everyone coped differently, but Hunter and his buddies tended to joke a lot about how their days would play out as TV episodes and the order they would all die in on TV. It wasn’t a conversation Esme particularly enjoyed, but everyone had their coping mechanisms and she wasn’t one to judge.
In front of her, Hunter shook his head, willing to battle out racial talking points with the woman. “I respectfully disagree. My love interest would randomly die in season two, and my best-friend-of-color would be pushed back to die for my man-pain in season three. That’s when things really get real. Season three is when OTPs finally get together. Everyone knows that. But it will take a catalyst like my best friend dying for me to see that the love of my life has been sitting under my nose all along.”
OTP stood for “one true pairing” but Esme wasn’t sure how Hunter knew that. It was more a phrase teenage girls used, not strapping firemen. But apparently he’d heard it somewhere.
“Or you could die for my black-man pain in season three,” Daryl countered as he sent Esme a nod of hello. “It could be the shock of the year: lead white guy dies and the show keeps going. Boom! How about that for once?”
Hunter and Daryl’s date locked eyes and burst into laughter at the same time.
“He’s adorable, isn’t he?” Hunter said.
“Cute as a baby’s butt cheek,” the woman agreed, shaking her head. “Black-man pain? On network TV? As if!”
Esme bit her lip, unwilling to touch the topic with a ten-foot pole as she tapped Hunter’s shoulder to signal she was there. He sent her a quick nod as the other woman’s amused eyes looked Esme over as she pursed her lips.
“So who would our new arrival be in this TV show?” she asked.
Esme opened her mouth to answer, but Hunter spoke first.
“She’s my divorced sister who is balancing a job and two kids while trying to get back on the dating scene,” he said with confidence.
“Divorced?” Esme objected. “I don’t think so.”
Hunter shrugged as if it was all out of his hands. “Your sole purpose for being onscreen is to give my character depth so that the audience forgives me for all my jerk moves. As long as I’m seen as one who protects and cares for my own, I’ll be forgiven of all types of sins. That’s where you come in. Through you, my sister, audiences get to see that I secretly have a heart of go
ld beneath my rascal exterior.”
Esme’s thumb rubbed against the new ring on her finger in her pocket. “That does not make me your divorced sister—with two kids, no less. I’m the single sister who can take care of herself, thank you very much.”
“Well, then, you’re not going to get much screen time, are you?” Hunter said helplessly. “If your world doesn’t revolve around me in some fashion, there’s really no reason to write you into any of the episodes.”
“He has a point,” Daryl agreed as if Hunter really was making sense.
“Unless she dies for your man pain in season two,” the date offered.
“My sister?” Hunter shook his head. “And leave me with her two kids?”
“Why do I suddenly have two kids?” Esme asked, but everyone ignored her.
“They’d go to their father,” the date said with a dismissive wave.
“Who is obviously unfit to raise them, otherwise my sister wouldn’t have divorced him and been granted full custody to begin with,” Hunter argued. “There would have to be a whole story arc about me fighting for custody and blah blah blah.”
“You’re right,” the date said, shaking her head. “That arc always falls flat, doesn’t it? I’m already bored talking about it.”
“Exactly,” Hunter said with authority. “My sister serves the story better by staying alive and continuously showing that under my rough exterior I am fundamentally kind and heroic, in even the smallest of ways.”
The date laughed like that was the best thing she’d ever heard in her life before looking up at Esme and smiling. “Does this sister have a name?”
“Esme,” Hunter said, finally looking up at Esme and smiling. “This is Kambri. Kambri, this is Esme.”
Esme gave the other woman a little wave. “Good to meet you.”
“You, too,” Kambri said. “Grab a drink and pull up a seat…or two. Is your husband coming?”
Esme faltered at the question before realizing that she’d used her left hand to wave at Kambri out of habit.
The woman had seen the ring. Crap.
“Esme isn’t really married,” Hunter said, but when Kambri’s eyes dropped to Esme’s left hand and Hunter’s eyes caught the glance, Esme knew her cover was blown. Hunter was going to figure out she was engaged in 3…
“So just barely engaged then?” Kambri asked. “When’s the wedding?”
2…
Esme watched Daryl blink in surprise, looking first at Hunter and then at her. “Did I miss something?”
And…1. Hunter’s eyes locked onto the ring.
Well, that hadn’t gone as planned.
“Nope,” Esme said cheerfully, trying to salvage the moment. “It’s why I came over, actually. To share the news.”
“Oh, no,” Kambri said, looking mortified. “And I blurt it out before you get a chance? I’m so sorry.”
Esme waved the apology off even as she swallowed back a tinge of annoyance. “Not your fault. I’m the one who flashed the ring.”
“And what a ring it is!” Kambri cooed. “Can I take a look?”
“Of course,” Esme said, holding out her hand as she snuck a look at Hunter to test his reaction. He was looking at Daryl.
“Maybe Esme’s right,” Daryl mused as if Esme hadn’t just made the biggest announcement of her life. “Maybe she isn’t the divorced sister in our show. Maybe she’s the sister who dates men behind her brother’s back because she knows that as soon as her brother meets them, he’ll expose them as unworthy of her and chase them off. That would remove the kid drama, but still shows the audience you’re a man who respects and champions women.”
Esme had to admit that Daryl’s not-so-subtle drag for hiding Jon from everyone—including the guys at the station—was deserved on her part.
“You’re right,” Hunter said thoughtfully. “That might be a better fit for her character.”
Esme rolled her eyes at their ribbing as Kambri gripped her hand and got a closer look at the ring.
“Can someone please explain to me why Hunter is always the center of this TV show’s universe?” Esme asked, trying to derail them.
“Uh, because I’m hot,” Hunter said as if it should be obvious. “And hot guys get to be central characters.”
“Yeah?” Esme said. “Well, congratulations on your face, Hunter. But there’s more to life than looks. Other characters matter, too.”
“Yeah, but they matter a little less, don’t they?” Hunter said as Kambri and Daryl gave reluctant nods of agreement. “TV is a visual medium, Esme. There’s not a lot of time to go into depth, so you need to cast people who look like their souls on the inside. Good guys need to be good looking and really good guys need to be really good looking. I think that’s actually one of the Ten Commandments of TV or something.”
“Mmm,” Kambri said, stealing a look at Daryl. “Then Daryl must be a really good guy.”
“He is,” Hunter agreed. “Which is why he’s my best friend. Side-by-side, the two of us will have lots of conversations in the shower room with our shirts off, and 99% of the viewing public will immediately see the good we bring to the world.”
Esme didn’t know how she was the only one who didn’t fight back a groan at that one.
“Yummy,” Kambri said, releasing Esme’s hand and playing along. “I’d tune in for an hour to see that.”
“Of course you would,” Hunter said, ignoring Esme’s obvious annoyance. “But remember, all that baby oil slathered on us to make us look like we barely stepped out of the shower is less about our actual bodies, and more a display of our inner goodness and level of trust that exists between us, despite our obvious differences.”
“Huh,” Daryl mused. “I never knew gratuitous nudity was so deep.”
Esme had no response. Everything she could think to say would only push them further into the madness. Besides, part of her was officially annoyed. Hunter had just found out she was engaged and he was still talking about baby oil and the supposed emotional depths of men walking around wearing towels like there was nothing else to talk about.
There was, as evidenced by the ring on her finger.
“Your ring is gorgeous, by the way,” Kambri said, finally acknowledging the elephant in the park. “Three karats?”
“I think so,” Esme said, looking at the beautiful rock and its gorgeous setting. Her heart gave a pitter-pat as it winked at her.
“And the man who gave it to you?” Kambri pressed. “Where is he? I want to meet the guy that Hunter hasn’t chased away from his stunning sister.”
Wow. This Kambri lady really could pull out the awkward when given an opportunity.
First off, she’d taken the TV show storyline too literally. Hunter wasn’t Esme’s brother. Esme had a little brother named Robby who was off at Stanford, and Kambri’s comment managed to highlight the fact that neither Hunter nor Robby had yet to meet Jon—not that that was a prerequisite to engagement. She was a big girl. She didn’t need the men in her life to approve the man she married, but she certainly wanted them to.
“Yeah,” Daryl added, still willing to drag her a bit longer it seemed. “Me, too. I want to meet this guy.”
“Me three!” Hunter said, his smile overly pleasant.
Well, this definitely hadn’t gone as planned. At all. Esme wasn’t sure what she’d thought would happen, but in her mind, she’d at least pulled Hunter off to the side and broken the news to him in private while they strolled around the park or something. He deserved that much.
“We should do a triple date,” Hunter said brightly to Daryl. “You and Kambri. Esme and…” He turned to face her, his expression the model of innocence. “What’s his name again?”
“Jon,” Esme bit out.
“Esme and Jon,” Hunter said cheerfully. “And me and whoever I pick up along the way. We’ll all have a blast, I’m sure.”
It was official. Hunter was annoyed. He hated dating. In fact, Hunter’s reluctance to go out on official dates was one of t
he reasons he hadn’t met Jon yet. Well…that paired with the fact that Esme had actively encouraged Hunter’s disinterest in getting together by downplaying how serious things were getting with Jon. She liked Jon and hadn’t had the faith that he wouldn’t allow himself to be chased off after Hunter butted chests with him a few times.
“That sounds great,” Esme said, even as she knew no triple date would happen. A double date was inevitable, but the past five minutes had proven that Kambri had the gift of awkward, and there would already be plenty of that with Hunter and Jon in the same room. Esme would stick to juggling that mess first, then maybe graduate to including other couples like Daryl and Kambri—if Kambri lasted that long.
Hunter was infamous for cycling through women, but Daryl wasn’t much better. He was a hunk of a man who stretched out shirts in all the right places, and there was no shortage of women willing to tempt Daryl into something new. It would take a pretty special woman to hold his attention and send the rest of womankind packing.
“Does this mean you’ll be selling your house?” Hunter asked out of nowhere.
“My house?” Esme stammered. “Why would I sell that?”
“To move in with your doctor husband—he is a doctor, right? That’s the guy who proposed?”
Ah, another little dig. That was more like him. “That’s the one,” she said brightly.
“Well, he isn’t going to want to live in Sausalito in the house his wife built,” Hunter said. “He’s going to want to live in the city in a house he bought. That leaves your house empty in Sausalito. It would be pretty stupid not to sell it, and you know Luke wants to get his hands on it again.”
Esme’s house was her baby. The thought of losing it along with its view of the bay had her tensing. “Nothing like that has been decided yet.”
“You mean you two haven’t even talked about it yet,” Hunter corrected.
“Sure,” Esme snapped. “We haven’t talked about that yet, but we’ll get there. If the house goes up for sale, I’ll definitely let Luke know.”
“He’ll be very happy,” Hunter said with a satisfied nod.
King of the Friend Zone (Power of the Matchmaker) Page 2