Spy Thy Neighbor

by Shandi Boyes

  “Does he not see her?” I ask, my voice pained for April growing up without a father.

  Hunter shakes his head. “No. Last I heard my dad is in Cuba living off the money he swindled from a group of investment bankers.”

  “What about April’s mom?” I probe.

  He once again shakes his head. “She hasn’t seen her since the day she left her on my mom’s doorstep with a note pinned to the blanket wrapped around her.”

  "So your mom raised April as if she's her daughter?" Surprise is evident in my voice.

  The smile that etches onto Hunter’s mouth makes my knees weak.

  "Yep," he breathes out. "Even though April doesn't have my mom's blood running through her veins, she has part of mine, and that's enough for my mom."

  “Sounds like an incredible lady,” I murmur as fond memories of my mom pummel into me.

  “She is,” he replies.

  Another stretch of thick silence greets us. Although heartbreak is still heating my blood, it isn’t as potent as it was when Hunter first entered the room. It has simmered from his brutal honesty.

  After a short stint of contemplation, Hunter locks his remorseful eyes with mine. “When I read your manuscript… god… I realized how fucking stupid I’d been. But I was hurting, Paige. I thought I’d finally allowed someone in only to have the door slammed in my face.” His eyes drift between mine. “I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

  I nod, soundlessly accepting his apology. I had forgiven him the instant the first “sorry” spilled from his lips. The final quote my mom gifted me with before she passed has been running on repeat in my mind the past five days. “You’ve got to take the good with the bad, smile with the sad, love what you’ve got, and remember what you had. Always forgive, but never forget. Learn from mistakes, but never regret.”

  Although I am angry at the way Hunter handled the situation, I can't say I don't understand his reaction. He was hurting, believing I had betrayed him. But if he had talked to me instead of relying solely on the false documents in front of him, he would have realized I never betrayed him.

  I can't talk. I knew the cruel words fired off my tongue during our argument had no factual basis, but I still spat them out, forgetting that two wrongs don't ever make a right. If anything, I'm not the only one who deserves an apology. Hunter does as well.

  “Hunter, I’m so—”

  “Don’t,” he interrupts, his tone both stern and remorseful. “I unleashed my anger at what happened ten years ago on the wrong person. Don’t apologize for reacting the way you did, Paige. I deserved it. Hurting or not, I was in the wrong.”

  This time when he cups my jaw, I don’t pull away, I relish it. Another stretch of silence passes between us. It isn’t riddled with anger and pain like earlier. It's filled with forgiveness and another feeling I can’t quite recognize.

  My eyes bounce between Hunter’s as I try to comprehend what the unidentifiable glimmer in his eyes is. When it smacks into me, I inhale a quick breath and take a step backward. It isn’t his remorseful eyes that have my heart stuttering, it's the glint he's trying to conceal behind his repentant look that causes my greatest concern.

  “You’re expecting me to run.” My voice is low and shaky.

  “No, I’m not expecting you to run.” Hunter shakes his head. “But I want you to.”

  “Why?” I strangle out, my eyes shimmering with new tears. “And don’t you dare give me that same pathetic excuse you did last time about me deserving a better man.”

  When grimness thins his lips, I know that's the exact line he was going to issue.

  “Stop, Hunter! Haven’t we been through enough? Did you not read a word I wrote?”

  "You wrote that before you knew I spent time in jail – before you knew of the viciousness I can unleash when I'm angry," he replies, incapable of hiding the pain his eyes are displaying. "Your dad's biennial election is also looming, so this would be an injudicious time for you to expose your connection to a criminal."

  "What happened to not judging a book by its cover? You don't even know my dad, but you're judging him by his outward appearance. My father didn't become a Senator for the title or the fanfare that comes along with it. He did it because he loves his state, and he loves his country. You might see him as a sergeant playing with his minions, but underneath the suit is a man who has many similarities to you."

  Unlike Riley, my dad never used my grandfather's influence to secure his lucrative position. It was years of hard work and the love and devotion of a dedicated partner that made him the man he is today. I can see so many likenesses between my dad and Hunter. That's one of the reasons I was myself around Hunter so quickly. And why I fell in love with him even more quickly than that.

  I cup Hunter’s jaw similarly to how he had cupped mine. A small grin tugs my lips higher when his cheeks twitch under my touch. “You use your appearance as a shield, but you can’t fool me. Just like you saw the real Paige, I see you, Hunter. The real you.”

  My heart enlarges, filled with a mass surge of blood pumping into it. “You might have an Adonis ass, and a body crafted to make my knees shake – “

  A smirk etches on his mouth at my playful comment about his Adonis ass.

  “But it is your insides I fell in love with. Not the cover of your story – the heart of it. Cheeky Hunter, playful Hunter, mysterious Hunter, and even grumpy Hunter. I love them all the same.”

  He draws in a long, shaky breath, showing that hearing my feelings in person has more impact on him than reading them off a white sheet of paper.

  The swelling of my heart increases when I notice the painful glimmer in his eyes dampens with every second we stand across from each other. I’ve only known Hunter for a few short months, but I can’t deny the prompts my heart is relaying. I love him. Unequivocally and without doubt. I’ve never had these types of feelings before. Not even for a second of the seven years I was with Riley. I knew from the moment I saw Hunter he was going to be my greatest risk; I just never knew it was going to be so substantial.

  The stranglehold crippling my heart the past five days eases when Hunter murmurs, “Don’t destroy me, Paige.”

  “Never,” I reply, sealing my lips over his.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Two hours later, I am beyond exhausted and content. After requesting VIP cabana status for Pepper and paying for her to have her own room, Hunter spent the next ninety minutes issuing his apologies using only his body. It was the most riveting apology I’ve ever been given, which has had me spending the last ten minutes trying to work out a way to make Hunter need to apologize again and again.

  The lazy beat of my heart quickens when Hunter comes strolling back into the main room of the suite. He's shirtless and barefoot and has his cell phone attached to his ear. Just like five days ago, his body is glimmering with wetness, but it isn't from a shower. It's from the exhaustive activities we've just undertaken. A chill runs down my spine when I realize he’s talking into his untraceable cell. I scamper off the sweat-dampened sheets and pad across the floor.

  The muscles in his back tense when I mold the curves of my body into his.

  “Can’t. He’s in Vegas helping Parker secure Isaac’s asset.” Hunter’s tone is deep and low.

  My hand slithers down the damp ridges of his abdomen before slipping into his unbuttoned jeans. He inhales a quick, sharp breath when I stroke his cock, priming it for round two.

  The vibration of Hunter’s chuckle rumbles through my chest before he says, “I’m a little indisposed right now.”

  Oh, yes you are.

  I curl around to the front of his body and stare into his murky blue eyes as I lower the zipper of his jeans. He smiles a heart-stopping grin before continuing with his conversation. "That means you're fifteen hundred miles closer to Izzy than me. I've tried everyone, but being New Year's Eve, I'm running out of options. Besides, you're the only man Isaac trusts with Izzy."

  His thighs get a prickling of goosebumps when I lower
his jeans down his legs. My eyes bulge when I realize he isn’t wearing any briefs. Wetness puddles between my legs from the hankering grin tugging his lips high.

  Lifting my hunger-filled eyes to Hunter, I whisper, “Hurry up. I want to suck your cock.”

  “I got to go; can you do this or not, Hugo?” he asks, his words hurried as I lower on my knees in front of him.

  I wrap my hand around the base of his throbbing shaft and hover my lips over his glistening knob just as he says, “I’ll add it to the long list of favors.”

  He disconnects the call, not giving his caller a proper farewell. Throwing his phone onto the crumpled bed, he secures my hair into a loose ponytail, using his fist as a band. A feral groan leaves his mouth when I suck down hard, eager to see the expression that only crosses his face when he's coming. A pleasurable shudder passes through me when my taste buds are swamped with the flavor of his delicious cock. He tastes tangy and salty, and he smells intoxicating. It's a unique scent of cologne, soap, sweat and… me.

  I work him hard and fast, loving the feeling of his thick veins throbbing under the smoothness of his skin that's taut, jutted, and hot. He rubs his thumb over the hollow in my cheek from my forceful sucks. I can’t get enough. I love that I have the ability to make him so open and raw. To have him unraveled.

  When salty warmness spurts onto my tongue, I pump him faster. My jaw aches from sucking so furiously on his thickened cock, but my pace doesn’t slow.

  A rough groan tears from his throat as the pre-cum leaking from his cock increases. His grip on my hair tightens when my moans vibrate his shaft. My nipples bud; my pussy slicks with moistness, and my womb coils so tight, I could come just by watching his fall to ecstasy.

  “Fuck, Paige.” His hips jerk forward, ramming even more of his cock into my mouth.

  The muscles in his stomach contract, and his head drops back as the first spurt of cum explodes into my mouth. My throat works hard to swallow, struggling with the steady stream of thickness pumping from his engorged knob.

  You'd swear he hadn't already come only twenty minutes earlier. But I swallow it all, my senses ignited and delighted to accept every drop. Once every precious droplet has been consumed, I slowly glide his still hard cock out of my mouth and lift my eyes to his. He grins a deliriously delicious smile before banding his arms around my waist and hoisting me off the ground.

  “My turn for dessert,” he mutters into my ear, striding back to the bed.

  I lean into his embrace, relishing the way his beard scrapes against the soft skin on my neck.

  “When did you read the manuscript?” I ask, incapable of leashing my writing curiosity. I pop my head off Hunter’s chest, bend my elbow, and peer into his sexually satiated eyes.

  "The day you left," he answers, scraping his hand over his unshaven jaw.

  My brows furrow together tightly. “Five days ago?” My voice smears with bitchiness.

  When he nods, I climb out of bed and pace the room. “Then why are you only arriving now? Why did it take you five days to realize you were wrong?”

  Hunter tries to interrupt me, but I keep rambling. "You knew I did nothing wrong for five days, yet you left me wallowing in self-pity, stupidly feeling guilty for lashing out at you when you were the one being an unreasonable asshole. I've barely slept or eaten the past five days because of you. And don't think it was just my writing stopping me from ordering the biggest burger on the room service menu. It was the twisted sick feeling I had in my stomach the past five days. I was lost. Hungry. Pissed off! How could you leave me hanging like that? That's the mother lode of all cliffhangers. The ultimate betrayal."

  During my verbal tirade, I fail to notice Hunter leaving the room to gather his hemp bag he dumped near the entranceway table on his way in. I only realize he left when he grasps my hand in his, flips it over and places a heavy item onto my open palm.

  “This is why it took me five days to get here,” he mumbles, his voice strained. “It took a lot longer for me to find than I was anticipating.”

  My incessant blubbering comes to a shrieking halt when my eyes snap down to the package in my hand. A gathering of tears well in my eyes as they roam over the brown paper and twine-covered parcel. From its size and weight alone, I can easily derive that it's a book. I bite on the inside of my cheek before carefully tearing open the top corner of the parcel.

  Time comes to a standstill when the spine of The Weekend Romance peeks out from behind the paper. A tear rolls down my cheek as I lift my eyes to Hunter. He's watching me with a reserved and poignant stare. He looks more fearful now than he did when he first arrived at my door.

  After wiping the tears from my ashen cheeks, I continue to remove the paper covering my mom's book. My chest heaves up and down when I crack open the spine to discover her handwritten inscription inside. The inscription she wrote for me. A painful sob tears from my throat when I pull the book in close to my chest with one hand before slinging my spare arm around Hunter's broad shoulders.

  “You found it,” I barely whisper, my lips quivering against his neck.

  My whole body shudders as tear after tear spills from my eyes. Hunter gathers me into his arms and sits on the bed. He draws me in close to his chest as he runs his hand down the curve of my back. I listen to the beat of his heart while endeavoring to get my gut-wrenching sobs under control. It takes several tedious minutes.

  By the time I raise my head off Hunter’s chest, his torso is wet with my tears, and his eyes are more pained than earlier.

  “I wanted to give it to you earlier, Paige, but I didn’t want you to think I was using it as leverage to force you to forgive me.”

  “I know,” I interrupt, not requiring his explanation.

  Hunter is the first person I’ve met who gives gifts without any stipulations attached. That's another reason I fell in love with him so quickly.

  Epilogue

  Six months later…

  Hunter's fingers fly wildly over the keyboard. His brows are knitted, and his concentration is solely focused on the laptop screen in front of him. He's in his element. I am too busy paying dedicated attention to the way the crisp black suit he's wearing showcases his Adonis ass in panty-wetting detail.

  His beard has been neatly trimmed; his hair has grown a little longer the past six months, and his tattoo collection has also increased. He looks so scrumptiously delicious that if we weren't sitting in the middle of a church about to attend the wedding of his work colleague and friend Hugo, I'd have a hard time keeping my hands off him.

  The past six months have been staggering. Day after day filled with nothing but joy and adventure. The day following Hunter's reappearance, we traveled back to the cabin. What? I had two weeks remaining on my lease so it would have been heinous of me not to take advantage of the spectacular views of Bronte’s Peak.

  Once my contract expired, and against Hunter's wish, I begrudgingly returned to my hometown. I lasted all of three days before I stood on the stairwell of my neighbor's glass house with a suitcase in one hand and delivery slip for my writing chair in another. I'll never forget the smile that etched onto Hunter's face when Patricia announced my arrival. It's a memory that will remain ingrained in my mind until the end of time.

  There's only one other memory that comes in a close second. It was the day Hunter and my dad met. To say I was surprised when my dad introduced himself to Hunter like he already knew him would have been a major understatement. I was flabbergasted. When Dad noticed my shocked expression, he simply said, “Did you really think I’d let you fly to the other side of the country without first checking who you may be associating with?”

  I wasn’t the only one stunned by his admission; Hunter looked mortified, and while I am being totally forthright, he looked a little scared. But not a single spark of hesitation crossed my dad’s face when he accepted Hunter’s handshake, proving what I already knew. My dad would never judge a book by its cover.

  My focus returns from reminiscing when Hunter sa
ys, “It’s done.”

  He lifts his eyes from the laptop screen covered in code to me. “Are you sure this is what you want to do, Paige?” he asks, his tone reserved.

  I nod. “Yep. He deserves it.” I kick Hunter’s black polished dress shoe. “Don’t tell me you're backing down. Riley is a cheater and a retiree bank swindler. He's the very epitome of your dad.”

  When Hunter and I left my hotel in Santa Monica, we were inundated with reporters. Malicious questions regarding my so called “affair” with Hunter fired off the vindictive tongues of reporters as Hunter guided me from the entranceway of the hotel to an awaiting town car. Just from the range of questions directed at me, I could tell Riley had leaked news of my connection with Hunter. But instead of acknowledging our engagement had ended four months prior, he made it out as though I was the adulteress in our relationship.

  While I sat in the backseat of the town car stunned like a fish out of water, Hunter hacked every newspaper in the country, endeavoring to remove the false reports made about me.

  My shock at the reporters’ inaccurate statements turned into awe as I watched Hunter work his magic on a small handheld device he created.

  Within forty minutes, Hunter had shut down every article regarding my alleged affair for the East side of the country and was rapidly making his way through the West. It was only once I scooted across the leather seat and curled my hand over his did his mission stop.

  “Let them run the story,” I said, peering into his eyes.