Age of Ava by Melanie Moreland

Chapter 11

Hunter

Isat back, replete. I picked up my wine and sipped the rich, heady red with appreciation. We had unpacked the groceries, stored Ava’s in the bottom of the still mostly empty refrigerator, then I had grilled the steak and Ava had made some sort of potatoes and onions she put in foil and cooked on the barbecue. I had no idea what was in them, but they were delicious. I had once again witnessed her love of potatoes when she slid part of her steak onto my plate, then picked at pieces of potatoes I had left in exchange. Laughing, I had pushed the plate closer to her so she could get at them easier. She was rather endearing with her potato-stealing ways.

“Awesome dinner,” I mused.

Ava smiled, picking up her wine. “Perfect summery meal.” She sighed. “It would have been better with corn, but that won’t be ready for a couple of months.” She eyed me over the rim. “Will, ah, you still be here for corn harvest?”

“Depends on how work goes here. There is a lot to be done.”

She looked at the worn table, running her finger over the faded top. “You have someplace else to be? Like a set date you have to leave?”

“No.”

“You mentioned you were in Alberta before you came here. You have a place there?”

“No. I rented a room in a house with a bunch of guys. Before that, I was in a place outside town—a little trailer. I had a rented room in a boarding house prior to that, a small apartment for a while…” I paused, taking a drink of wine. “I can go on if you want.”

She frowned. “You don’t have a home? A base?”

“No. I never have.”

Her shock was written on her face. “Never?”

I didn’t really like to discuss my past. But I ran a hand over my jaw, scrubbing it roughly. “I have never had a place to call home. My mother never settled anywhere for longer than a few months. I don’t know any other way to live. When I went out on my own, I just stuck with what I knew. I have my truck, my dog, and I go where the wind takes me.”

“Just like that?” she asked.

“Just like that. I go where I find work. Usually construction. I stay until I feel the need to leave. And I go.”

“Don’t you…don’t you get lonely?”

I met her gaze. “Getting lonely implies caring for someone. I don’t do that, Ava. I don’t get attached.”

“You’re attached to Cash.”

At the mention of his name, he rose to his feet and trotted over, leaning on my leg. I rubbed his head, and with a sigh, he shut his eyes, enjoying the attention.

“He’s the exception. I care for him because he was discarded. Much the way I was. Through no fault of his own, he was abandoned and left behind. We share that. So, I look after him. One day, he won’t be around, and I’ll be back on my own. And I’ll carry on.”

She stared at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. Seeing the pictures on the walls of her home, the little cluster of homes of the people she loved that surrounded her, I knew I had shocked her. She would be as adrift in my world as I would be in hers. Both were foreign concepts to the other. She was used to being surrounded by love and belonging. My life was a string of forgotten places and people.

“I don’t know what to say to that,” she admitted.

“Say nothing. I don’t expect you to understand. Any more than I can understand your world. But that’s okay. You’re here right now, and I want to enjoy that. What happens next week or next month will happen. Enjoy the moment with me, Little Dragon. Try it.”

She nodded and stood, taking her plate and lifting mine. She carried them to the kitchen and filled the sink with hot, soapy water. The evening sky darkened the window, the steam gathering on the glass. Her reflection was sad.

Oddly enough, it matched the way my own words made me feel.

* * *

After dinner, we wandered outside, watching as the last of the light faded. The air was cooler, the scent of outdoors fresh and clean. I had to admit, I liked it here. The way the house was situated, it felt as if you were alone in the world, tucked away from the craziness that existed outside the little bubble this piece of property offered. I slid another one of my favorite mixtapes into the boom box and, once again, took Ava in my arms. We danced under the dim moonlight, the stars slowly brightening in the night sky. We didn’t talk, letting our bodies feel the gentle rhythm of the music and nothing else. Cash lay on the porch, bored and indifferent to us, his tail thumping slowly on the old boards.

The breeze picked up, and Ava shivered. “We should go inside,” I murmured. “It’s getting chilly.”

Wordlessly, we entered the house. She curled into the old chair, and I sat on the sofa, Cash lying by my feet. Ava picked up her book, opening it but not really reading. I knew she was troubled by my earlier words. She couldn’t comprehend them. A world without family, without love, and a place called home didn’t sit well with her. I had to admit, I found her worry somewhat sweet. But I needed to break her train of thought.

“Not enjoying your book?” I asked.

“Oh, um, it’s good.” She rubbed her eyes. “When I get tired, I find it hard to concentrate.” She offered me a smile. “I always need the weekend to recharge.”

I had noticed yesterday she looked tired. She’d been brighter today, but I could see the exhaustion creeping back up. “You work too hard. You’re under a great deal of pressure all the time.”

She shrugged. “We all are. ABC is a busy place.”

“Do you have help? An assistant?”

“If I need help, I ask.”

I fought back my smile. “I bet you never ask.” I relaxed against the cushion. “When’s the last time you took a break?”

“I’m off every weekend.”

“A holiday,” I said patiently. “A long stretch of time away from the office and the responsibilities.”

She blinked. “I took a few long weekends last year.”

I snorted.

“What about you?” she asked.

“I took two months off and went up to Alaska. Me, Cash, a trailer, and the open road. No phone, no email, nothing.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Was it wonderful?”

“It was great. I needed the break.”

“I couldn’t do that. I have too many responsibilities.”

“Maybe you need to reprioritize. Ask for help at the office so you can live your life as well as work. You can’t organize every minute of your life. You need to let some moments simply happen.”

She didn’t say anything. She looked small and sad. I didn’t like it.

I stood, extending my hand. “Come to bed with me, Ava.”

She hesitated.

“Bring your book. I’ll read to you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I think you need to let me take the reins for a bit. I like reading out loud.” I waggled my fingers. “Come on.”

She took my hand and let me pull her from the chair.

“It’s a romance book.”

“Is it dirty?”

“Scarlett Scott usually is.”

I pulled her in and kissed her. “Maybe I’ll get some ideas. All-new ideas on how to ravish you.”

She laughed, and I felt her relax.

My plan was already working.

* * *

Ava

I woke up, blinking and warm. Once again, I was surrounded by heat and the snores of both Cash and Hunter. I had to admit, Cash was far louder. Outside was still dark, although I sensed the light would soon break through the dawn.

I had let Hunter lead me to bed last night. He’d surprised me with his offer, and I assumed a few pages into the book, he would tire of the words and decide to get physical instead. But he had helped me disrobe, kissing my skin as he uncovered it, then slipped one of his T-shirts over my head and lay on the bed, patting his bare chest. I lay on his warm torso, his arm wrapping me close as he braced the book on his bent knee and began to read. He stroked my hair as he spoke, his touch light and gentle. I felt myself relax, sinking deeper into him, my eyes shutting of their own accord, suddenly too heavy to stay open. His voice was low and rich, and he read very well. He was an excellent orator, hitting all the marks well. I couldn’t recall the last time anyone had read to me—probably my dad when I was a child—and I was shocked how much I enjoyed hearing the story out loud.

I fell asleep with his voice in my ear and his hand on my head. I slept dreamlessly until the feel of his mouth on my neck woke me, the darkness surrounding us, his hands stroking along my skin under the shirt he’d slipped over my head. Not a word passed between us as he caressed me, his mouth worshiping my skin, then settling on mine with a profound passion and need I sensed deep in my bones. I spread my hands over his bare, strong back, stroking along his spine, cupping his buttocks. I felt his erection, hard and hot, between us. I opened myself to him, letting him settle between my legs, suddenly as desperate for him as he was for me. His surge was sudden and fast, and I gasped his name, feeling the power of his possession. He gripped me, his fingers sinking into my hips as he drove into me, groaning my name and thrusting in long, steady movements. My orgasm was unexpected and swift, catching me off guard. He followed not long after, gasping and grunting, fisting my hair and shaking.

He collapsed on top of me, his breathing fast and heavy. He kissed the side of my neck and rolled away, disposing of the condom. He returned to the bed and pulled me into his arms.

“Sorry, Little Dragon. I tried to resist.”

Still reeling, I shook my head. “Resist?”

He laughed lowly. “You fell asleep, but I kept reading.” He paused. “You’re right. That Scarlett writes dirty stuff.”

I began to giggle. “You got turned on?”

“Yes. I tried to go to sleep, but you were right there. Your leg was over mine, and your hot little pussy was pressed against me. I couldn’t stop myself.”

I yawned. “I’m glad you didn’t try.”

He kissed me. “Go back to sleep. No more jumping—at least for tonight.”

I had fallen back into sleep right away.

I slipped from the bed, careful not to disturb either of them. Hunter frowned, his hand searching the air, and I shoved my still-warm pillow toward him. He buried his head in the fluffy material and fisted the edge, settling back into sleep. Cash only huffed and shut his eyes.

I gathered my clothes and used the washroom, splashing cold water on my face, then padded into the kitchen. I hesitated, unsure what to do. Stay or go. I knew yesterday had been an oddity for Hunter. He made it clear we were simply scratching the proverbial itch for each other, and I hadn’t expected yesterday at all. It had been a wonderful day, though.

Aside from my brothers.

I shook my head as I made a pot of coffee. I would have a cup then leave, sparing Hunter the need to find an excuse to ask me to do so.

I tried to ignore the flash of pain it caused me thinking of that. He was more wonderful than I expected. I loved our sparring. How he made me laugh. His silly dancing when a song came on he really liked. The strength of his arms when he pulled me in to dance with him. How it felt when he was inside me—the passion and need that shone in his beautiful eyes as we…fucked? Made love? I wasn’t sure how he’d refer to it, but I knew it was amazing.

And despite what he claimed, he was caring. I ran my finger over the little petals of the flowers he’d bought me. The way he’d read to me last night, his quiet worry when he spoke of me needing help on occasion. He was correct about that. I hated asking. I hated anyone thinking I was anything less than in complete control. I worked hard—and at times, endlessly—to get the job done. I wondered what the group would say if I suddenly told them I needed help. I shook my head at the thought. I was fine. They depended on me. I would make it through the next while then take a little break and come back strong. We had a lot of irons in the fire right now, and I was simply feeling a little burned out. It had happened before, and I’d made it through fine and no one knew anything was the matter.

It seemed odd that a man who was almost a complete stranger noticed that about me when my own family seemed oblivious.

I sat down, pulling one leg close to my chest, and sipped my coffee. I thought of what Hunter had revealed to me last night. His nomadic lifestyle. Growing up that way. Never settling, never developing long relationships. Never planning to. Cash was his only concession. He had been serious, his words honest.

Yet, the man I’d had glimpses of this weekend wasn’t the same man he described himself to be. If he were, he wouldn’t care if I looked tired. He would have walked away when my brothers approached. I had expected him to take Cash’s lead and be out the back door before Ronan had even walked in the house, but he had stayed. He’d let my mother and aunts into his house and accepted their clucking and casseroles. He’d good-naturedly tolerated Liam’s teasing.

He’d bought me flowers.

I pursed my lips, wondering if I was the first person to notice those things about him. Maybe, like my family, others accepted what we let them see. Somehow, though, we had both seen something under the façade we presented to the world.

Hands on my shoulders and a set of warm lips ghosting up my neck startled me. Hunter’s palms were warm on my skin as he bent close. “You did it again.”

I turned my head. “You were sleeping so well I didn’t want to wake you. I made coffee, and I was going to bring you a cup.”

And leave before you woke up,since I’m not sure how to do this, I added silently.

He poured a cup of coffee, and I ogled his form. He moved with a sensual grace, the strength in his torso and arms evident in the way his muscles flexed and tightened. He flipped the chair around, straddling it and laying one arm along the top as he sipped his coffee and regarded me with his intense gaze.

“I call bullshit on that. You were going to leave without waking me.” He indicated my bag by the door.

I sighed. “I thought it might be easier for you if I were just gone.”

“You know what your problem is, Little Dragon? You think too much. Your brain is on overdrive every moment of every day. No wonder you’re so exhausted.”

“It’s my job to be thinking. I have no choice but to overthink. I need to be one step ahead of everything and everybody all the time.”

He nodded. “That’s your job,” he agreed.

I threw up my hands in frustration. “What are you saying?”

“You need to relax in your personal life.” He reached over and took my hand, forcing the fingers apart. I hadn’t realized until he did how tightly I had been clenching my fists. “Think about yesterday. No plans, no demands. You relaxed for the most part and just enjoyed the moment. You need to do that more often.”

“What does that have to do with me getting out of bed?”

“If you’d stayed, I would have woken you up with my mouth and my cock. Relaxed you into the day. Walked you to your car and kissed you.” He paused. “Asked if maybe we could do this again.”

A smile tugged at my lips. “Really?”

He stood and held out his hand. “Let’s try it.”

“You-you want to go back to bed?”

He pulled me to my feet. “Yes. I want to go back to bed. With you. I want to fuck you with the sun coming up and my name falling from those pretty lips.”

I let him lead me back to his room. I couldn’t deny either of us.

* * *

Later that morning, I unpacked my groceries in my quiet house. My body still felt Hunter’s possession from earlier. The way he’d touched me everywhere. Kissed me. As promised, he’d made me come with his mouth, his fingers, and finally, his cock. The power and passion in his thrusts. His low moans and satisfied grunts and curses as he shook with his release. How he soaped my body in the shower and insisted on towel-drying my hair.

He had carried my bags to the SUV, setting them in the back seat, then turned back to me.

“Thank you, Little Dragon.”

I nodded, my throat suddenly thick. I swallowed. “Have a good week, Hunter.”

He laughed low and slid his hand around the nape of my neck, yanking me to his mouth. “I will now.” He held open the door, waiting until I climbed in.

“Try to have a good week, Ava. Tell them all to back off if it gets too much.”

I managed a smile, wondering why it was so hard to leave him.

“I’ll see you around,” I managed to say.

He tilted his head, studying me, then winked.

“You can count on it.”

Then he disappeared into the house, Cash following him.

For some unknown reason, tears coursed down my cheeks on the short drive. Wiping them away, I shook my head at my behavior. I was being silly. It had been a great, unexpected weekend. It was exactly what I had needed, and we had agreed on the rules. It was only supposed to be one time. That became one night, which stretched into two.

Still, a small part of me wished it didn’t have to end.

I tamped down that silly voice. That wasn’t how life worked. At least not for me.

* * *

I carried my plate to the sofa, setting my coffee on the table in front of me. The room buzzed with voices, lots of various conversations happening around me. Once a month, we had a group brunch—it was casual, whoever wanted to come could. Usually, the same people joined us, but today, there were more than normal, and the place was full.

Watching everyone settle into their groups, I felt a strange pang. Everyone seemed to be a couple today. Liam and Paige. Ronan and Beth. Paul and Diane, Jeremy and Kim. Brayden and Addi. Gracie and Jaxson. Theo was laughing on the sofa with Anne. Reid and Becca’s daughters, Lily and Melissa, had their boyfriends with them, and they were in the first stage of love, sitting close together, gazing at each other with adoration. Both Michael and Timothy seemed like nice guys, and I was happy for them. Even quiet Shelby had her boyfriend with her. Simon Kent owned one of the small art galleries in Toronto. He had been in love with her for ages, but she never noticed—until the day she did. Since then, they’d been inseparable, and I had a feeling another wedding would happen soon. The way he looked at her, hovered close, and paid attention to her made my chest ache at times, even though I was thrilled for her. He got along well with everyone—especially his prospective father-in-law, Maddox. They were both businessmen with a head for numbers and a shared love of Shelby. She looked happy and more at ease than ever.

I heard Heather’s loud laughter and Reed joining in before the only other single person flounced over and sat beside me on the sofa. I grinned at Sammy Morrison, Reed’s sister.

“Is he being a brat again?”

She flipped him off, settling herself and taking a bite of toast. “Being his usual self, yes. Such a pain in my ass,” she grumbled. Then she winked. I knew how much the two of them adored each other. They were incredibly close but loved teasing and sparring. Much like my siblings.

“Where’s Mila?” I asked.

“Deep into edits. She’s up against a deadline.”

“When does the book come out?”

Sammy pursed her lips. “November. There is already talk about it. Her publisher is very excited.”

Mila was Van’s youngest daughter and had always loved writing. She used to make up stories and tell them to us, reading as she said from the “pages in her head.” She was quiet and shy until she began to talk about her work. She had written several novels and had been picked up by a publisher, who purchased her series in a rare, lucrative deal. She was excited and nervous and working very hard to learn the ropes of the industry.

“Me too. I can’t wait to read it. How are things with you?”

“Busy.”

“Done any cool projects lately?”

“I converted a loft. It was stuck in the seventies. It’ll be featured on the show in a few months.”

Sammy worked independently. She was incredible. She could build anything, design, renovate, fix, and change spaces so you didn’t recognize them. She’d inherited her design talent from her mom, Liv, and her dad, Van, had taught her everything when it came to construction. He was incredibly proud of her.

On occasion, she did work for us, but she preferred the freedom of choosing her projects. She was featured on one of the renovation channels on occasion—again, choosing which ones she took on. Her work took her all over the country, and it was rare to see her at one of the brunches.

“What’s going on with you?” she asked.

“Not much. Busy. Same old, same old.”

“You looked sad when I came over. Are you okay?”

“Sad? No.”

“Maybe not sad. Pensive.”

I shook my head. “Just looking at all the new faces.”

“I know. So many.” She winked. “What about you, Ava? Got anyone hidden away? Someone you’re having fun with but not introducing to this crazy lot?”

I blinked at her. “Why-why would you say that?”

What had Ronan and Liam been saying?

She laughed and nudged me with her elbow. “Teasing. I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Introducing anyone to this bunch would be overwhelming. You’d have to be pretty damn certain of a future with them.”

I relaxed. “Right. Well, no chance of that.”

She nodded and finished her meal. “I hear you. I need a refill. You want anything?”

I looked down at my still mostly full plate. “Nope, I’m good.”

“Okay. How about lunch next week? I’m in Toronto on Wednesday. Uncle Bent has a project he wants me to look at.”

“Sounds good. Call me in the morning.”

With a fast kiss on the cheek, she was gone, flitting away to visit with her parents or Nan and Pops. She was like a butterfly, alighting somewhere briefly, never staying long.

Somehow, that made me think of Hunter. He never stayed long either. Apparently, it was his mantra. I tried to imagine him here, in this group. He would hate it. The laughter and camaraderie. The oversharing. The sheer number of people gathered around with one common denominator—the love of family.

Yep, he would hate it.

I looked down at my plate, my appetite off. Strangely what I wanted was some of Hunter’s slightly burned toast. I pushed down the feeling of sadness once again and picked up my fork, knowing I needed to eat or questions would be asked.

Suddenly, the cushions on either side of me depressed, and I found myself in the middle of a Liam and Ronan sandwich. I rolled my eyes, cursing the fact that I had sat on the center cushion.

They each rested an arm over the back of the sofa, effectively caging me in.

“Hey, big sis,” Ronan uttered with a grin. “How’s it going?”

“You look lonely sitting here all by yourself,” Liam added.

“Sammy just left, so I am hardly lonely.” I stuck my fork into the hash browns and lifted it to my mouth. My aunt made awesome hash browns, and they were my favorite. “Feel free to go away.”

“Where’s the boy toy?” Ronan asked in a low voice. “Waiting at the house?”

“Shopping for dinner?” Liam chuckled.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Lemme refresh your memory. Hunter Owens,” Ronan whispered. “What the hell is going on between you two?”

“Nothing. I told you. Cash got loose, and I helped him.”

“You helped him grocery shop too?” Liam interjected.

“I was being nice.”

“Nice enough he left beard burns on your neck. Don’t try to pretend with us,” Ronan drawled. “The sexual tension between you two was so thick, I could cut it with a knife.”

“Your imagination is running away with you,” I said as firmly as I could.

“Really?” he challenged me. “You’re telling me you’re not playing hide the salami with the guy?”

I tried not to laugh at his description. “Is that what you and Beth do?” I asked. “Hunter’s more of a bucking bronco kind of guy, if you must know.”

He looked squeamish. “Jesus, Ava. TMI. You could have just nodded.”

“You brought it up. Not me.”

“I don’t want to think about you doing that,” he hissed. “You’re my sister.”

“Then you shouldn’t have asked.”

“I’m sorry I did.”

I had to laugh at his horrified expression. I rubbed his arm. “It’s okay, Ronan. I’m only joking.”

“I doubt it.”

“I guess you’ll never know.”

“Is he renovating to live there?” Liam asked quietly.

“No. He plans to lease it, I think. Use it on occasion. I’m not involved in his decision-making in regard to the future.”

“So, this, whatever it is between you, is casual.”

I met his eyes. “On both sides, Liam. I’m a big girl, and I can look after myself.”

“I’m aware. I don’t have to like it, though.”

I shrugged. “My private life is just that. My private life. I didn’t interfere when you married Paige a few weeks after you met her.” I glanced at Ronan. “And I supported you even when you were being an asshole with Beth. So, stay out of my business.”

Ronan snorted. “You went behind my back and talked to Beth.”

“Which got you back together. Hunter is Mr. Owens’s grandson. He’s fixing up the place and going to move on. I’ve tried to be helpful. What happens is between us. No one else. Leave it alone.”

“We’re just worried,” Liam admitted. “We don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Like I said, I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. If I choose to have or not have a casual relationship with someone, it’s not your concern.”

“It is,” Ronan insisted.

“Why?”

“Because you deserve more than casual, Ava. You deserve the whole thing.”

I stood and looked down at my brothers. Their sincerity was evident, their need to look after me strong. I adored them, but I needed to make sure they understood.

“I’m not like you. I don’t want the ‘whole thing.’ I like my life the way I like it. Just let it go and let me live my life the way I want. I promise you, I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you really?” Liam asked. “Or is that what you tell yourself to make it easier?”

I shook my head. “I love you two, but I need you to butt out. Do you hear me?”

They both looked frustrated but nodded. I dug into my pocket and handed Ronan a folded piece of paper. “See if you can do anything with that, okay?”

He opened it. “This is the house Hunter is working on?”

“Yeah. He is going to need an architect’s drawings for the addition.”

He huffed a sigh, and I bent and kissed his cheek. “For me, Ronan. Look it over for me.”

“Fine.”

I patted his shoulder and kissed Liam’s cheek. “Thanks. Now, go back to your wives, boys. Stop worrying about me.”

“Not likely,” Ronan snorted. Liam nodded in agreement. “What he said.”

I picked up my now-cold coffee and headed to the kitchen.

* * *

A while later, I found Nan sitting in the library sipping a cup of tea. A warm shawl was tucked around her shoulders, and her cane rested on the arm of her chair. But her eyes were bright and her smile welcoming. I sat across from her, and we chatted about a few projects ABC was working on.

She studied my face. “You look tired, Ava.”

I shook my head in denial. “I’m fine. Busy.”

“Is the office too much?” she guessed shrewdly.

I waved off her concerns. “It’ll pass. It always does.”

She frowned and took a sip of her tea. “It is always acceptable to ask for help.”

“And I will if I need it.”

She pursed her lips and changed the subject. “I hear you met the Owenses’ grandson. He told us you helped him.” Then she lifted one eyebrow. “He also informed us you were bossy and ate his potatoes.”

I laughed. He was right on both counts. “Something like that. But he’s one to talk. He’s pretty bossy himself.”

“He is an interesting young man. Too young to be so jaded.”

“Do you know, Nan? What happened? Why he’s stayed away?”

She sighed. “Not entirely. They were always private. I know the daughter was a handful. A free spirit. She left home when she was young. She came back for a while, then disappeared again. One day, Jordan and I were out past the trees picking wild blueberries. We heard an argument—not the words but the loud voices, and we saw Jack and his daughter Nina outside. She was yelling and pushing at her father. He wasn’t reacting, but when she disappeared and came back, dragging a little boy behind her, he tried to stop her. There was more yelling on both their parts, and she put the little boy in the car and drove off.” Nan paused. “The little boy didn’t seem to want to go.”

“That was Hunter’s mother taking him away,” I surmised.

Nan nodded. “Gail never spoke of it, but she always looked sad. The few times I was in their house, I noticed all the pictures of their daughter were gone. There was one of the young boy. I had seen him in town with Gail once. He had a head full of dark hair and those eyes. So unique. But neither Jack nor Gail talked about them.” She finished her tea. “I don’t think they ever got over losing them.”

“She never came back?”

“Not that I know of.”

I thought about what Hunter had said—that he never had a home. That they moved and traveled all the time. I could imagine him as a young boy, always on the go, never really happy or settling. That would certainly affect a person. I also remembered his words, “It was the only way I knew to live.” Was he really going to live that way the rest of his life?

“He seemed like a pleasant young man. A little guarded, but nice,” Nan mused. “Stubborn as hell. Independent.”

“I think he had to be.”

She nodded. “One would have to be patient and let him see there are different ways to live,” she said, meeting my gaze. “Especially if one cared about him.”

“I was only asking,” I replied.

“Of course you were.” She patted my hand. “I didn’t think anything of it.”

She left me sitting there, staring at the water. I sighed and decided to head home. I had things to do today since I had spent the entire day yesterday with Hunter and Cash.

I had to ignore the urge to forget my responsibilities and go back to Hunter’s. I wasn’t certain I would be welcome, and I didn’t want to risk it.

No matter how much I yearned to.

* * *

I wiped the mirror after my shower, toweling my hair briskly. It had been a productive afternoon. The house was tidy, I’d made some meals, done a little work, and even managed to sit on my deck and paint my toenails. I wiggled them, the bright purple shining in the light. Drying off, I headed to my room, slipping into a pair of comfy sweats and a big sweatshirt that once belonged to my dad. It had been washed so often, it was thin and soft, the logo barely visible on the front. It hung off my shoulder and the hem was misshapen, but I loved it. It was still warm and cuddly.

I padded into the kitchen, glancing at the time. It was only eight, which left me lots of time to relax for the night. After making a small pot of decaf coffee, I carried a cup to my favorite chair. The table was empty, and I realized I had left my book at Hunter’s. For a moment, I stood, recalling how his mouth felt on my neck when he woke me, his need evident after reading the spicy part of the book.

Laying my hand on my neck, I remembered his whispered words, his low groans of satisfaction, and his incredible skill when he touched me. Simply thinking about it made me ache with want for him. With a low groan of dissatisfaction, I reached for my Kindle, grateful I always kept it charged and bought both the physical copy and e-book. I could keep reading, and I would ask Hunter for my book back the next time I saw him.

I pushed down the feeling of sadness when I realized I wasn’t sure there’d be a next time, although I hoped there would be. Despite what I said to my brothers or Nan, I did want to see him again. I liked spending time with him.

I liked it too much.

Sitting down, I found the place I’d stopped before. I had been so tired, I couldn’t recall what Hunter had read—I’d enjoyed listening to the timbre of his voice, but I couldn’t recall the words, so I began over again. Oddly, I found it hard to concentrate on the book. I was distracted and stared into space. Thinking about Hunter. About the day we spent together. I was so lost in my thoughts, I startled when I heard a heavy knock on the back door.

I sat up, my heart rate kicking into high gear. No one used the back door. My family always came to the front. There could be only one person on my back step. I stood and heard the telltale signs of Cash’s excited pacing and saw the outline of Hunter’s broad shoulders filling the window.

I flung open the door, and our eyes locked. His gaze was turbulent, the silvery blue a maelstrom of color. He gripped the doorframe, his knuckles white. He had my book fisted in one hand.

“You left this. I thought you might want it,” he rasped, taking in the sweatshirt hanging off my shoulder.

I could only nod in silence, words freezing in my throat. There was something different about him tonight. Tension rolled off him like a wave. He was overwrought, almost angry.

Was he angry at me?

“Tell me that shirt once belonged to a member of your family,” he growled.

“My dad,” I managed to whisper.

He lunged, his hand cupping the back of my neck as he dragged me to his chest. “Thank God.”

Then his mouth was on mine, and suddenly, everything was right in my world.