Better than the Book (Charitable Endeavors #4) - M.E. Carter Page 0,26

Tasty. Maybe this was the right choice of drink for the night.

“No, really. I know you.” I keep my eye roll at bay. Yes, I’m disappointed by his lack of imagination but since he is likely one of Matthew’s friends, I still want to be polite. I let him finish his latest effort. “You’re Celeste. We met at the Prince of Darkness con. You’re a blogger of all things theater and were supposed to email my manager for an interview but never did. And I have had a couple of shots of whiskey, enough to loosen my tongue to say I was disappointed you didn’t follow through.”

My jaw drops open as I take in his appearance. There is no way Hunter Stone is standing in front of me. He looks so different than the last time I saw him. The transformation from vampire cop to tourist is incredible.

“Wait… Hunter?” I know I sound completely confused, but I am. I knew he was friends with Matthew, but I had no idea they were close enough for him to be at the wedding. I make a mental note to berate Carrie for this lack of information. Speaking of, I quickly scan the crowd, spotting Calypso and the grandparents. Suspiciously, the bride and groom are nowhere in sight. I don’t even want to know why.

“You, but…” I shake my head as I try to wrap my brain around this turn of events. “You have a beard. And your hair is long. And wavy. Holy shit, you look totally different. Actually, you kind of look like a lumberjack.”

He chuckles, and based on that sound, there is no denying the man who has starred in most—okay all—of my fantasies over the last few months is well and truly standing in front of me.

Shoving his hands in his dark blue pants pockets, he smiles shyly. “I’ve been hearing that a lot lately. I was trying to blend in. I guess it worked.”

“I’ll say.” This version of Hunter Stone is unexpected but not unwelcome. A quick perusal of him from head to toe sends a shiver up my spine. The navy pants look to be tailored perfectly to his body and the white button-down shirt is fitted but not too tight. The collar is open, showing off his olive skin, but it’s the rolled up sleeves that show off his forearms that have me taking a hearty sip of my drink. And then it hits me. “And what do you mean I never emailed? I did it that day.” Yes, I’m trying to be polite, but I’m still a bit miffed the offer was extended and then taken back with no explanation.

Actually, I’m not really irritated anymore. I’d moved on from the incident after a couple weeks of being home so I’m not really sure why I am suddenly on the defense. I blame the bottle, okay bottles, of champagne Carrie and I consumed in her suite before the ceremony. Maybe Hunter isn’t the only one with loose lips right now.

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrow together. “I had Eddie checking for your email for two weeks. You never sent him one.”

“Well he didn’t check it then because I sent it before I even left that room. Ask the volunteer. She made me sit down and do it right then so I wouldn’t forget.”

Hunter opens his mouth to reply but changes his mind, pushing his hair back instead. “I don’t understand. Why would Eddie not schedule an interview? He’s a media whore. That doesn’t make any sense.”

I watch as the frustration and confusion play out on his face. Hunter seems genuinely concerned about this snafu. Maybe even wondering if Eddie betrayed him and if so, why. The strong, alpha persona he plays on TV is gone, replaced by a sensitive, empathetic man. This isn’t “Hunter Stone” standing in front of me. This is the real Hunter.

“I’m so sorry, Celeste. I hope the scheduling issue didn’t mess anything up with your blog.”

“It was fine. Don’t worry about that.” His features relax a bit. “Sure I was disappointed, but things happen, you know? If you only knew how many years I was supposed to go to before I finally made it, you’d know this was par for the course.”

Understatement of the year, even if he doesn’t know it.

“I’d like to make it up to you. Do you maybe want to do the interview now?”

“During the wedding reception?”

He shrugs. Something about it tells me he really doesn’t want