by Amy Lamont
Great. I’d always dreamed of being the center of Hunter’s attention. I just never imagined it would be like this. There was only one thing to do—stall.
“Hunter, shouldn’t you keep working? We need to get back on the road, don’t we?”
He held my gaze for several long seconds. Then he turned back to his work.
“Yeah, we do,” he said. “So I’ll work while you tell me what all the pranks against my dad were about.”
I resisted the urge to stamp my foot and throw a temper tantrum. But I might have given in to the impulse to stick my tongue out at him behind his back.
I huffed out a breath and searched for a way to avoid the question. Because I couldn’t explain it to him without giving away more than I wanted to.
“Katelyn.” Hunter dropped the screwdriver into the toolbox at his feet and took a step closer to me. “Why my dad?”
I opened my mouth, not sure how I could explain it all. But at that moment his hand punched forward flipping a few switches.
The basement flooded with light. He stared at me expectantly and all I could do was blink as I wished we were back in the shadows.
Chapter 4
Seriously? Courage was hard enough to come by in the dark. I pulled in a shuddering breath and suddenly found myself fascinated by the flashlight, wishing I could make the process of shutting it off far more complicated. Of course, that would have been easier in the dark.
“Katelyn.”
I bit my lip and kept my eyes trained on an uneven bit of concrete close to the toolbox.
“Why my dad?” he asked.
I finally managed to tear my focus from the floor and meet his gaze. Or at least somewhere in the vicinity of his gaze. Maybe more like his chin. It was a good chin. Firm. Chiseled. Squared.
“Katelyn.” This time his voice was laced with exasperation.
I rolled my eyes and lifted them the extra few inches. His penetrating stare sucked the breath from my lungs. It was then I noticed his stillness. Everything about him remained poised, waiting.
“Why don’t we continue this conversation while we’re getting ready to go?” I gestured up the stairs. “I know you want to get me back to the train station before the temperature drops.”
He gave me a hard look before he shrugged and snatched up the toolbox. Without a word, he gestured toward the stairs, and I all but ran up them, grateful for the reprieve.
All the lights were on upstairs, and I got a better look at the interior. The living room furniture remained indistinct under sheets, but now I could clearly see the long farmhouse table made of a heavy, dark wood with eight chairs around it. The floors were wide knotty planks, slightly worn but polished, and covered in colorful braided rugs. I could easily imagine cozying up to a fire lit in the enormous stone fireplace, and the oversized kitchen was begging for a pot of something simmering on the stovetop and some cookies baking in the oven.
“I guess your friend doesn’t live here?” I rubbed the edge of the sheet covering what looked to be an oversized chair.
Hunter opened the cabinet where he originally found the tools and shoved them back inside. “He spends vacations here. Rents it out the rest of the time. He noticed the issue with the electricity on his way out this morning and didn’t want a renter to end up here with no heat and no electricity. Especially this time of year.”
I nodded and wandered over to the window, moving aside the curtain to peer outside. I smiled at the picture in front of me. The sun had dipped down to meet the mountain tops while we were inside. There was just enough light left to lend an air of ethereal beauty to the fat flakes of snow drifting down from the sky.
“I didn’t know we were supposed to get snow,” I said.
“What?” Hunter stomped over to the window, nudging me aside to look out. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” I pushed my face closer to his shoulder, inhaling his scent while gazing out at the scene in front of me. The effect of that combination made me almost dizzy. “I think it’s pretty.”
He snorted. “Pretty. Right.” He strode to the door and glared at me. “Stay here.”
He walked outside, slamming the door behind him.
I returned to the window, now more interested in watching Hunter than the scenery. He stood on the porch and dragged a phone from the pocket of his jeans. My gaze stuck to his back pocket long after he’d removed his hand.
Holy mother. I think I know now why my mother spontaneously did the sign of the cross from time to time. I suddenly felt the need to send up a little prayer of thanks myself. Hunter had been good looking since he was fourteen-years-old. It seemed impossible, but the years since I’d seen him had made him even hotter, his muscles had turned harder and leaner. His shoulders broader. And damn if the man couldn’t fill out a pair of jeans.
I think I lost a little time as I ogled his ass because the next thing I knew I was blinking as he stomped off the porch and moved to the motorcycle.
What the heck? Had he completely forgotten I was here in the two minutes since he stepped outside? Too many years of feeling invisible whenever I was around Hunter propelled my feet forward without conscious thought. The last thing I needed would be to get stuck out here in the middle of nowhere, dumped and forgotten by Hunter Lawson.
I flung the front door open and jumped onto the porch. I threw out a hand to keep from tumbling down the steps as I raced down them. “Hey!”
Hunter turned to me. “I thought I told you to stay inside.”
I wanted to roll my eyes at my own idiocy as relief surged up inside me. He hadn’t forgotten about me the second I was out of his sight.
“I thought…” I broke off. No way on God’s green earth I’d tell Hunter I thought he’d forgotten me. “I-I thought you might be ready to go.”
He shook his head. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“What?”
He raised his chin toward the sky. “Looks like a storm front that was supposed to miss us shifted, and now we’re right in its path. We can’t take the bike down the mountain in this.”
As soon as his words registered, I shivered, suddenly noticing the air that tried to send frigid tendrils through all my layers. I raised my face and snowflakes landed on my cheeks. The air had gotten much colder even in the little while we were inside.
“Is there a truck or car or something we can borrow to get back to town?”
“Afraid not, babe,” he said. “I just called to see if anyone at the bar could come get us. That’s how I found out about the winter storm heading our way. It’s supposed to come down fast. I can’t ask anyone to drive up here through it, and I wouldn’t trust anyone to carry you safely back to town in this mess.”
Warmth seeped into my chest, and I pressed the pad of my thumb to my lips to hide my smile. He was worried about me. Exhilaration bubbled up from somewhere deep inside.
It didn’t take long for reality to trickle back in, but it didn’t dampen my joy. We were stuck here for the foreseeable future. I should probably be scared or worried or something. But I wasn’t. In fact, somewhere deep inside I raised my arms over my head and punched the air in victory. Outwardly, I managed to hang onto my composure by a thread.
I was about to be snowed in at a remote mountain cabin with hot guy biker Hunter Lawson. If I could get him to strip off his shirt at some point, I’d be living out about eighteen different fantasies I’d had about him over the years.
“Babe, go inside.”
Hunter’s sharp command brought me back to earth. Or at least close enough my toes were brushing it. I was almost afraid to let him out of my sight. He might vanish into thin air and I’d wake up to find out it was a dream just like all the others I’d had this week.
“Katelyn.” His tone was even sharper now, with more than a hint of impatience. Nope, no way would I dream of him talking to me like that. This was really happening.
I grinned at him, knowing I must look like a lunatic. I couldn’t help it. But I did follow his orde
r, turning on my heel and going back into the house.
Once inside, I headed right to the window to watch him. He steered his Harley around the side of the house and out of sight. When he hadn’t reappeared a minute or so later, I let the curtain fall back and took stock. Everything looked clean and neat, but I could make things a little more comfortable.
I pulled a sheet off a piece of furniture and found a comfy, brown overstuffed chair. I neatly folded the sheet and dropped it on the wide pine coffee table in the center of the room before moving to the couch and tugging the next sheet off.
By the time Hunter burst inside, snow falling from his shoulders, I’d uncovered all the furniture in the living room. He moved forward and dumped a load of firewood into a brass tub near the fireplace.
“With the electric back on, the heat should come on soon, but I figured a fire couldn’t hurt to help it along,” he said.
“Good idea.” I worried my bottom lip between my teeth and watched as he shrugged out of his heavy jacket and threw it over the back of the couch. Muscles bunched under his shirt as he bent to get the fire going. My mouth went dry as visions of us cuddled up together by the fire played in my mind. Only in my imagination, his shirt was gone and I had free rein to run my hands over those muscles.
He glanced back over his shoulder. “Do you mind checking out the kitchen? My buddy left this morning and he usually stocks up while he’s here. Maybe there’s still some food in there.”
I stared at him a second longer before shaking off the fog my fantasies left me in. “Sure.”
I moved into the kitchen and started opening doors. Jackpot. There was a full set of pots and pans in the cabinet under the sink. In a pantry closet, I found boxes of pasta and jars of sauce, a box of brownie mix, several packages of Raman noodles, a couple of boxes of mac and cheese, half a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips, an opened box of Cocoa Puffs, a canister of coffee and a can of mixed nuts.
“Check the fridge, too,” Hunter called. “The power just went out this morning so anything in there should still be good.”
“Okay.” I stepped to the big, stainless steel fridge and peered inside. There was a carton of eggs with about half a dozen left, an open package of individually wrapped American cheese, some beer, half a quart of milk and a bottle of soda.
I shut the door and moved back into the living area. “The good news is we’re not going to starve to death anytime soon.” I flopped onto one of the oversized chairs. “The bad news is we may need to see a cardiologist to have our arteries unclogged if we’re stuck here too long. You sure it was your friend here last? If I didn’t see the coffee and beer, I’d guess a twelve-year-old boy did all the shopping.”
Hunter chuckled and straightened up. He’d gotten a crackling fire going in the fireplace and I blew out a breath as the heat hit me. I hadn’t realized how chilly I was until I started to thaw out.
I stood and stripped off the jacket Hunter had loaned me as well as my own winter coat. I threw them over the back of the chair next to Hunter’s jacket and moved closer to the fire, holding out my hands and basking in the warmth.
He stood with an arm braced against the mantle, one booted foot up on the wide, stone ledge. His eyes were trained on me, some odd expression moving behind them.
I fidgeted a little under his intense scrutiny, and dropped my eyes back to the fire. I scooted forward and sat on the ledge. When I braved another peek up at him, he still stared at me.
I wracked my brain for a way to fill the silence between us, and hopefully give him something else to focus on. The way he looked at me was unnerving. Finally my mind grasped on something. “So how long have you been tending bar at Rooster’s?”
He gave a quiet snort before he gave his terse response. “I’m not a bartender.”
“Sure looked like you were tending bar when I got there.”
He shrugged one shoulder and turned to sink into the chair closest to the fire. “I work the bar occasionally when we’re short of help.”
Oookay. “So are you like a manager or something?”
“How did you know to look for me at Rooster’s?”
“Logan told me.” I made a habit of not-so-subtly pumping my brother for information about Hunter whenever he called to check in with me. Not that I was about to share that bit of information with Hunter.
“He told you I was a bartender?” A small smile curled the corners of Hunter’s mouth.
Holy hell. Even the smallest gesture or expression from this man turned me inside out and pushed every thought from my head. When I finally managed to tear my attention from his mouth, I thought about his question and tried to remember exactly what Logan told me last time I asked him about Hunter.
“I think Logan said something about Rooster’s being your latest project.” I shrugged. “I guess I just assumed you were tending bar when I walked in and saw you standing behind it.”
He arched an eyebrow at me. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
My spine straightened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged. “I guess it’s not a surprise you’d assume I was a bartender.”
I shook my head. “I don’t get it. I think it was a reasonable assumption.”
“Of course it was. I’m the fuck up that grew up next door to you. The black sheep of the neighborhood. Why would you assume I was anything other than the bartender?” He slouched further into his seat, for all intents and purposes looking like he was totally at ease. But the tone of his voice gave away his tension. “I happen to be one of the owners of that bar. Me and a silent partner.”
I still didn’t get it.
“Okay. Why would I think you were a f-fuck up?” My face heated again as I stumbled over the swear word, and I wished for a moment the power was still off so I could hide in the shadows. “I didn’t realize you own the bar. What’s the big deal?”
“Give me a break.” His lips curled into a sneer, definitely not as attractive as his earlier hint of a smile. “I know what you and your family thought of me.”
“Um, by your tone, I’m going to go ahead and assume that whatever you’re thinking, you couldn’t be farther from the truth.” And thank God. If he knew exactly the thoughts I’d had about him over the years, there wouldn’t be a hole deep enough for me to climb into to hide from my humiliation.
“Katelyn, it was obvious your parents didn’t want me within ten miles of you.”
“Well,” I shrugged, “duh.”
His body went rigid and he turned his full attention on me.
I swallowed before I went on. “But just me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Since he wasn’t looking at me like a bug under a magnifying glass anymore, I relaxed a little. “My parents didn’t have anything against you being around my family. They had something against you being around me.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Explain.”
I huffed out a breath at his terse order. I’d forgotten over the years that he could be like this. Way too much like my bossy older brother.
“Hunter, you rode a motorcycle and so did all your friends, you got a tattoo before you were eighteen, you looked old enough to buy beer way, way before you hit twenty-one, and Logan loved to tell tales of your exploits with girls over the dinner table. You were the nightmare of every parent of a teenage girl.”
He snorted, but I noticed some tension left his jaw.
“But,” I went on, “that doesn’t mean they felt that way about you being around Logan.”
“Right.”
The skeptical tone shocked me. I realized now I’d always looked at him through my awestruck teenage gaze. It never occurred to me when I was sixteen that Hunter Lawson might have even a moment of doubt about himself. But I could definitely fix this now.
“Hunter, seriously. My parents were… I don’t know, thrilled doesn’t even begin to cover how happy they were when you and Logan got so close. I was always the good, nice, well-behaved one.
And Logan was the wild child. My parents worried about him all the time. But then you moved in next door.”
I stopped, remembering the day his family moved in. When Logan walked in the door with Hunter the first time, I’d almost melted into a puddle at his feet. I’d fallen in love on the spot and knew he’d never give my gangly, awkward eleven-year-old self a second glance.
“Katelyn?”
“Sorry. Took a little side trip down memory lane there for a second. Actually, now that I think about it, as many times as I heard my parents ask Logan why he couldn’t be more like you, I’m sort of surprised you guys were such close friends. You would think Logan would have taken a swing or two at you by now.”
“Are you kidding me?”
From the look on his face, this was news to him. But it had been common knowledge in my house that as long as he didn’t come near me, Hunter Lawson could do no wrong in my parents’ eyes. “No. You had good grades, and you always knew what you wanted to do and went after it. I think they were afraid Logan was going to just drift through life and never have any direction. Or worse. I’ve never seen them as proud as they were the day Logan said he was going to follow in your footsteps and enlist in the Army.”
“But you didn’t share their high opinion of me.” He jumped out of his seat and picked up the fire poker, using it to shift a log.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
He replaced the poker and stood over me, his gaze sharp. “You never said more than two words to me. You tagged along with us when we were kids, but when we got older, you made it perfectly clear you wanted nothing to do with me.”
Shock made me shoot up from my spot. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him, my mouth opening once and then closing again. My gaze raked his face, watching as the firelight threw shadows over it, while I searched my brain for a way to respond to him.
“Hunter,” I finally said in a voice little above a whisper, “do you really think I avoided you because I didn’t…what, approve of you?”
“Saw the guys you dated in high school, Katelyn. Straight arrows, preppy, a couple from wealthy families. I got that I wasn’t your type. But the way you looked at me, it was like you agreed with everything my old man used to yell when he’d gotten a few drinks under his belt.”