Page 33 of The Bitterroot Inn (Jamison Valley 5)
“I think so.”
“Sweet! I will call the owners tonight and see if either one would allow it. I’m sure the Gas ‘N’ Go will let you. The owner’s son went to school with me and put gum in my hair once. That family owes me.”
He grinned down at me before he started chuckling. “Do you know everyone in this town?”
“Pretty much everyone.” Everyone except him. Hunter was the most mysterious person to move to Prescott in years.
He chuckled. “I’ll have to keep that in mind. Where else are we taking pictures?”
“I’d like to do one of the community fishing pond. It’s where my grandpa and dad taught me and my brothers to fish. I was thinking maybe we could do something with Coby there. I’d like it to be a candid, maybe just his silhouette from behind or something?”
“Wait. You fish?”
“I fish. Worms and all,” I declared proudly. I had my girly girl moments but I embraced my inner tomboy too. “Why do you look so surprised?”
He just smiled wider. “I’ve never met a woman that looks like you but admits she’d willfully touch a worm.”
“Is that a compliment?”
His eyes softened. “A big one.”
With the slightest touch, he plucked a stray hair off my shoulder. Tingles ran down my arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake. How could such large hands be so delicate at the same time? I wanted to know what they could do to my skin in softer places.
God, I am crushing hard on this guy. Harder than ever before.
And judging by the heated look in his eyes, he was crushing on me too.
“Here you go.” Our waitress plopped a white sack on the counter, breaking our moment. “That will be eighteen fifty.”
I peeled my eyes away from Hunter’s and dove into my purse for my wallet.
“I’ve got it.” Before I could fi
sh out my wallet, Hunter had left a hundred-dollar bill on the bar and tucked the bag under his arm.
“I can pay for these. Really. I should. This is a business expense—”
“Maisy.” He cut me off. “I’ll always pay for meals. It’s just one of those things I was raised to do.”
Dad had taught my brothers the same thing. Mom had taught me to let them. “Okay. Thank you.”
I’d pay Hunter back with a home-cooked meal every day for the next two weeks. Hunter’s room would be fully stocked with Tupperware by the time he checked out of my motel.
Waving good-bye to the small late-lunch crowd in the café, I followed Hunter outside to the sidewalk where he handed me my turkey sub, then dug out his ham. Each of us unwrapped and rewrapped the deli paper around our sandwiches so we could walk and eat at the same time.
“All right, so we’ve got the theater, the café, the Main Street shot and the fishing pond,” he said after chewing. “What else?”
I swallowed my bite and rattled off the rest of my wish list. “I’d like one of the Jamison River but I’m not picky on the spot. I’d like to do one of the inn but not until I get flowers planted. Oh, and there’s an old homestead barn on my friend’s ranch that is really cool. I thought we could go check it out. And then I was hoping to do one up at Wade Lake.”
“That’s only eight. You’ve got, what, fourteen rooms total?”
“Yeah, but I can just double up.” It was a lot to ask that I get fourteen unique photographs at fourteen locations, and since he was doing this in his free time, I didn’t want to impose. I’d just make do with eight.
“No.” Hunter stopped on the sidewalk. “You’re not doubling up. You need to think of another six spots.”
“Since we never discussed price for your time, let’s just go with eight. I don’t want you to feel obl—”
With his free hand, Hunter touched my arm. “Six more spots, Maisy. We’ll hit those up next weekend.” His voice was gentle but firm. “However long this takes, it doesn’t matter. I’ll give you all the time in the world until you get this exactly the way you want.”
