Hunter had spent way too much time with Esme to pretend not to see how attractive Dr. Jon Bauer was to his best friend. Esme had always wanted a man with dark hair. Even back in group play dates when they’d been four and five years old, she’d always crushed on boys with thick, dark mops of hair. Her first kiss had been with a boy named Chad when they were four. He’d had dark hair and hazel eyes.
Like Jon.
For a woman whose celebrity crushes were Robert Downey Jr. and Jonathan Rhys Myers, Esme had done a remarkable job finding herself a real-life hybrid. The cynical part of Hunter wondered if any of Jon’s fancy looks were the result of a scalpel. Maybe he and another doctor had performed a few procedures on trade to achieve that strong jaw line and weirdly perfect nose.
Or maybe the guy had been genetically blessed like Hunter.
It didn’t matter either way. The guy had clearly been tailor-made for Esme. Even from his seat at the opposite end of the table, Hunter could see that.
Dr. Jon Bauer was Esme Taylor’s Mr. Right.
Congratulations to them both. He was sure they’d have beautiful babies. Esme’s parents had every right to be elated.
Could he go now?
If there was one place he didn’t belong, it was in a gathering of elated couples congratulating Esme on finally landing Dr. McDreamy.
Hunter pulled his phone out to text Daryl about meeting up later that night and his mom glared at him, sending a pointed look at his phone.
Right. Texting at the table was rude. He tucked his phone back in his pocket and pretended to give his full attention to the doctor who was charming everyone with his tale of that one time when he took a week off to fix cleft palates in Africa. According to Jon, that week had been life-changing and the best of his life.
Yeah? If so, then why had he only done it once? It had been three years since that lone, amaze-balls humanitarian trip. Why not go again?
These were among the many questions Hunter didn’t ask as Jon charmed the guests. If the guy were only a boyfriend, Hunter might have hazed him a little more. But he was a fiancé and Esme was clearly enamored… as was everyone else at the table. So Hunter kept his mouth shut and let the good vibes abide.
Contrary to popular belief, he did have some manners under his belt.
“So often people forget that cosmetic surgery can be as much about function as it is about form,” Jon was saying to his charmed audience.
Of course, everyone cooed their agreement, conveniently forgetting that Jon did boob jobs for a living. His job was totally about form. But who would dare mention that when Jon kept talking about the children who could now eat thanks to that trip he took once upon a time?
The guy really should go back to Africa and save more lives. Hunter insisted. He would even buy Jon’s ticket. One-way.
Go save the children, Jon! Why limit the best days of your life to one week? Go back! My treat.
He almost offered. Almost. Then he took one looked at Esme’s smitten smile and obvious pride in her fiancé and bit his tongue. Esme’s mom made excellent blue crab beignets; he should probably stick to putting those in his mouth instead of his foot.
They were halfway through the main course when Esme flared her eyes at him and mouthed the words, Say something. His response was to hold eye contact before taking a giant bite of pasta. A few seconds later, his phone buzzed with a text in his pocket.
Esme:
Stop lurking in plain
sight and say
something.
Ignoring yet another chastising look from his mom, Hunter typed his response.
Hunter:
Tonight’s about Jon.
Let him talk.
A few seconds later, her reply appeared.
Esme:
Tonight’s about people
getting to know EACH
OTHER. That includes
you.
Hunter:
I think everyone at
this table knows me
as well as they want
to.
As always, no one saw Esme texting but everyone saw Hunter checking his phone. He had no idea how she texted without looking at her screen, but between his dyslexia and big fingers, Hunter had to focus when he texted. Esme, on the other hand was still making eyes at Jon and participating in the conversation without missing a beat.
“Esme had the great idea of making handmade invitations to the wedding,” Jon was saying as Hunter tuned back into the conversation, and Hunter couldn’t help but laugh. Suddenly everyone looked at him like he’d started playing cymbals during mass.
“What?” he said, looking around the table.
Esme’s eyes narrowed on him playfully. “You think that’s funny?”
Hunter didn’t blink. “It’s hilarious. How many people are you going to invite? Ten? Because that’s how many invitations you’re going to get through before you start hating this idea.”
“Well, I think it’s a great idea,” Jon said, arm tucked around Esme. “I don’t know if you’ve seen this woman’s calligraphy, but it’s gorgeous.”
“Oh, I’ve seen it,” Hunter said. “But I also know that after about thirty minutes she’s going to get restless and want to escape. So if you want handmade invitations, you should either start making them now or hire someone to make them.”
“Well, hiring’s out of the question,” Jon said definitively. “No one could do a better job than Esme.”
“Yeah, Hunter,” Esme taunted, leaning into her fiancé. “No one could do better than me.”
“Sure,” he said, letting sarcasm drip from his tone. “That one elective course in college turned you into a true master.”
“Anyway,” Audra interjected brightly. “I do think it’s a lovely idea. So few things have a personal touch these days.”
“Exactly,” Jon agreed. “Everything is just cut, pasted, and printed.”
“It’s tragic,” Hunter drawled. “I mean, imagine the hundreds of hours we could all spend doing that stuff by hand.”
Esme hid a smile while her fiancé’s lips flattened into a tense line.
“But still,” Hunter’s mom said, flaring her eyes his way in warning. “It’s quite lovely to treat special occasions differently—especially once-in-lifetime events.”
“Agreed,” Audra said as she sent Hunter a quick look of warning.
Hunter looked down at his phone again and typed.
Hunter:
See? No one wants
me to talk.
Esme:
Of course they do.
Try going with the
flow.
Hunter:
Go with the flow?
Does. Not. Compute.
On the other side of the table, Esme chuckled.
“Asia sounds like an amazing honeymoon location,” Davis was saying when Esme’s laughter faded from Hunter’s ears. “What countries were you planning on visiting?”
“Well, I really want to do Cambodia and Thailand,” Jon said. “Then we can hop over to China and maybe even Japan.”
Esme’s father looked impressed. “That’s quite a honeymoon. How much time would you plan on taking?”
“A month, if we can pull it off,” Jon said. “I have a lot of PTO coming my way.”
For the first time, Esme looked a little hesitant. “And I’m self-employed so I have no PTO. We’ll have to find a timeframe that works for both of us and then choose our locations from there.”
Jon laughed. “I thought that was one of the perks of being self-employed. You can take off whenever you want.”
Hunter laughed at that, knowing comments like that were Esme’s pet peeve, but he said nothing when she looked his way and gave a small shake of her head.
“It’s somewhat the opposite,” she said with a smile. “It means I have a dozen different bosses to keep happy at all times. Disappearing for a month isn’t something any of them will likely let me get away with.”
Hunter could see an arg
ument on the tip of Jon’s tongue, but he apparently decided to let it go at the last second. “We’ll have to talk through the details together, but there are some places I really want to hit. Like that glass-bottomed bridge in the Hunan District in China. That looks amazing.”
The thought of Esme on a bridge like that had Hunter laughing out loud and, again, everyone looked at him like he was the weird one.
“What?” Hunter said. “Oh, c’mon, are we all going to pretend Esme is actually going to cross that thing?”
Jon bristled. “Why wouldn’t she?”
Esme’s mom cleared her throat, signaling to Hunter that she’d field the question. “Esme has a history of being afraid of heights.”
“Not from what I’ve seen,” Jon said. “She has pictures all over her home of her rock climbing and going on zip lines. From what I’ve seen, she’s fine with heights.”
“That’s because you haven’t seen what it takes to get her to go down a zip line or climb up a rock wall,” Hunter said. “It’s not fun for her. It’s immersion therapy.”
Jon leveled a steely gaze on Hunter. “Well, if you can get her to go down a zip line, I’m pretty sure I can get her across a bridge.”
Hunter opened his mouth to say something that would very likely not help the situation, but his mom beat him to the punch.
“Well, the bridge sounds terrifying. I’ve seen the one you’re talking about on YouTube and I don’t think I’d make it across. I like my feet on the ground, thank you very much.”
“I’ll second that,” Audra added, and suddenly the conversation was back on neutral territory. “Then again, crossing a scary bridge is a perfect excuse to hold on tight to each other.”
Jon grinned. “Well, now that you mention it…”
Everyone courtesy laughed. Except Hunter. Moments like this were perfect examples as to why he shouldn’t have come. Tonight was a night for playing nice and laughing at rim shot jokes like that. That wasn’t one of Hunter’s skill sets.
Why couldn’t Audra bring dessert out so Hunter could do everyone a favor by excusing himself for the evening? But instead of leaving everyone in peace, he was forced to watch people peck at their food like birds as they discussed the exchange rate in Cambodia, and the cities to visit in Thailand that were tourist-friendly without being too touristy.
Esme mooned over the idea of riding an elephant and visiting the sanctuary where some of the elephants painted with their trunks. Jon wanted to rent a hut on the river and live off local vendors. Hunter could only imagine the types of insects that would be living in a hut by the river and hid a smile. He’d pay to see Esme spend a night in an area where local spiders were the size of hats and the river below her bed was filled with snakes.
She wouldn’t sleep a wink. Neither would Jon.
Man, to be a fly on the wall that night…a fly that wasn’t eaten by one of the local hat spiders, obviously.
At long last, guests started setting their silverware down at the four o’clock position on their plates. The first was Ed, followed by Bette, then Hunter’s dad, then Esme.
It was almost time for dessert. Thank the heavens!
“Well,” Jon said as he set down his silverware. “One thing’s for sure, Audra, is that nothing we eat on our honeymoon will compare to what you prepared for us tonight. That was delicious.”
Audra blushed with pleasure. “Thank you, Jon. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Of course. It was excellent.”
“Well,” Audra said, dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin before she stood. “I hope you’re in the mood for shredded pastry cheesecake. It’s one of my favorites.”
“I’ve never had the pleasure before,” Jon said. “But it sounds divine.”
“It is,” Esme said before adding a light moan of appreciation and looking over at her fiancé—first at his eyes, then his lips.
Hunter surged to his feet, sending a smile Audra’s way. “Let me help you clear.”
“Why thank you, Hunter. That’s very appreciated.”
Anything to get out of sight of the kiss Esme was about to plant on Mr. Perfect.
Years of group dinners at the fire station had gifted Hunter with the skill of carrying more than nine plates at once. His technique might not be particularly elegant, but it got the job done. When he joined Audra in the kitchen, she was getting her dessert out of the fridge.
“It looks amazing, as always,” he said to her as he walked to the sink.
She smiled. “Thanks, Hunter. The components need to be assembled, then we’re good to go.”
He set the plates down next to the sink. “Do you want help with that, or should I stick to the dishes?”
“Oh, forget the dishes,” she said with a wave. “Get back out there with everyone.”
He arched a brow her way. “Audra, it’s just you and me here. You can keep it real.”
She smiled at that, letting out a nervous laugh. He took that as his cue to start pre-washing the dishes.
“You’re right,” she said from behind him. “It probably would have been better for you to wait to meet Jon when you were surrounded by a lot of people your age. It is a bit odd to have you here and none of the other siblings.”
“Be sure to repeat that to my mom,” Hunter said as he opened the dishwasher and started pre-washing the first plate. “She thought I was being obtuse when I tried to opt out.”
“Well,” she teased. “Even a broken clock is right twice a day, I guess.”
Hunter sent her a playful glare over his shoulder and kept washing.
Audra cleared her throat. “So? What do you think of him?”
“Jon?”
“Yeah.”
Hunter shrugged, glad he was facing away so his second mom couldn’t see his face. “Esme’s clearly in love.”
“Yes,” Audra said. “It’s so nice to see her happy.”
“It is.”
Silence. Hunter was glad for it as he moved on to the next plate.
“And that’s it?” Audra asked. “That’s all you have to say about him?”
Hunter kept his eyes focused on his work. “Does anything I have to say matter at this point? Esme’s in love and she said yes to a ring. That’s my cue to step back and be supportive, isn’t it?”
“I…guess,” Audra said after a beat. “I thought you’d have an opinion. You always do.”
Hunter placed a plate in the dishwasher, still not looking Audra. “My opinion is that Jon is exactly the kind of guy she’s always talked about wanting to marry. She made a list and Jon checks off all the boxes. It’s my job to be happy for her, right?”
He could literally feel the sigh of relief that escaped Audra behind him. “Yeah. I guess so.”
Too soon, Hunter was out of plates to scrub. Yet another trait he’d picked up at the firehouse. Speed. He should have worked slower and bought himself more time away from Audra’s searching eyes. Instead, there was nothing left to do but wash his hands and dry them on a towel before turning to face her.
Audra had finished everything but adding the raspberry toppers to her dessert. One glance made Hunter glad he’d stuck things out through dessert, but he wasn’t fond of the odd look on Audra’s face as she looked his way—like she had a question she was debating asking.
“Need help with those toppers?” Hunter asked, pointing to the pastries.
“Hmmm? Oh, yes!” Audra said brightly. “Please.”
Uncomfortable question averted.
It wasn’t Hunter’s first shredded-pastry-cheesecake rodeo, so between the two of them they made quick work of topping off the desserts before carrying them back out to the group. For some reason, Audra chose to serve the side of the table opposite of Jon, leaving Hunter to serve Jon and Esme’s side of the table.
Without a word, Hunter start plopping desserts down.
“This looks marvelous,” Jon gushed.
“Wait until you taste it,” Esme said. “I swear this is what ambrosia tastes like.
”
As Hunter took his seat with his dessert, Jon took his first bite and moaned in a way that borderlined on indecent. Hunter sent a look around the table to see if anyone would care. When they didn’t, he stuck to picking up his fork and diving in.
“Audra,” Jon said. “This is the definition of heaven.”
“It really is,” Esme’s dad said through a mouthful. “It’s been far too long.”
Hunter nodded his agreement, but stuck to eating. Small, but fast bites. The dessert deserved the respect of being enjoyed, but Hunter still wanted out of there. Let the happy couples have their time together. No one needed a ninth wheel hanging around. Even Audra agreed on that.
“I really hate to eat and leave,” Hunter said after swallowing his last bite. “But I have somewhere to be.”
Obligatory objections sounded out like an uninspired choir, and Hunter knew no one was really going to fight him on leaving so he stood.
“Can I grab a fresh bottle for the table before I leave?” he asked Audra, noting that half of the glasses at the table were empty, as was the bottle paired with the main course.
“Oh my goodness!” Audra gasped. “How could I have forgotten?”
“Don’t worry,” Hunter said. “I’ll grab a bottle. The port?”
“Yes, please,” Audra said.
Jon surprised him by standing. “I’ll help.”
It’s a bottle, dude, Hunter almost said. I don’t need help.
But this was obviously less about getting drinks and more about Jon wanting to be alone with him. Fine. Whatever. Two minutes alone with the guy probably wasn’t the worst idea. Hunter could let the guy know he had his blessing so long as he kept Esme happy. Because if there was one person who could spot an unhappy Esme, it was Hunter. And he was going to be watching his best friend like a hawk for signs of distress.
So instead of blowing the guy off, Hunter nodded and said, “Sure.”
All eyes were on them as they walked into the kitchen, but Hunter pretended not to notice. It was no big thing. Just two dudes grabbing one bottle of wine…as dudes do.
King of the Friend Zone (Power of the Matchmaker) Page 7