Leading the Witness

by Chantal Fernando

  “Perfect,” I finish with. “It was perfect. He clearly knows what he’s doing, and . . . shit, Callie. This is what I wanted to avoid, you know? How am I going to see him now, to be around him without wanting more?”

  “It’s okay to want more of him,” Callie tells me. “And he wants you back, Riley, so you can do what you want. Kiss him when you want. Don’t question or think, just feel.”

  “Easier said than done,” I grumble.

  Cheffy arrives, and love songs from the eighties start to fill the room.

  “I feel like I need to tease my hair and wear blue eye shadow for this music,” Callie groans, standing up. “I’m going to open the doors. Another day, another dollar.”

  I stand up and go and say good morning to Cheffy, then stand behind the bar and wait for people to start filing in. We don’t get too busy in the mornings, but I like to be prepared, just in case. Callie comes and stands next to me and smiles.

  “I bet you fuck him by the end of the week,” she says, bouncing on her feet in excitement. “And I bet it’s going to be epic. What a way to end your yearlong dick drought.”

  I sigh and shake my head. “That’s not going to happen. You know how skeptical I am; rushing into things isn’t going to help.”

  “Yeah, I know, but sometimes your vagina makes decisions, not your head, and I think this is going to be one of those times,” she says with a straight face. “Trust me, I know a thing or two about that. I’m the queen of bad decisions, and welcome to my world.”

  I study her, blinking furiously, considering her words.

  “I am not joining your world just yet, Callie,” I say to her.

  But fuck, it’s tempting.

  I’M RELAXING IN THE bath, surrounded by bubbles, candles lit and music in the background, when I hear a knock on my door and Bear’s bark. I take a sip of the glass of red wine in my hand and wonder if I ignore it, will they go away? I only just slid into the warm water, and I don’t want to get out any time soon. When the knocking continues, I get out of the bath with an audible groan, bubbles clinging to my soapy body. I grab a fluffy white towel to my left and wrap it around me, rushing to the front door. When I glance through the peephole and see Hunter standing there, panic fills me. He knocks again, making me jump and almost lose my towel. I decide to open the door a little, sticking my head out.

  “Hunter, what are you doing here?” I ask him.

  He gives me a once-over, a slow-spreading smile transforming his face. “Came to say hello. Perfect timing, by the looks of things.”

  “I just got into my bath, and I’ve been looking forward to it all day,” I groan, opening the door a little more. “Can you come back another time?”

  “I can wait until you finish your bath,” he says, lifting his hands and showing the bag he’s brought with him. “I got you food.”

  “What is it?” I ask, eyeing his hands.

  “Mexican.”

  “I love Mexican,” I tell him.

  “I know,” he replies with a wide grin, a picture of the emoji I use with the cheeky side smile.

  My stomach rumbles.

  I open the door and let him in, food winning out over my shyness of my being in a towel, my hair slightly damp in some areas. Bear smells him, then retreats back to his bed, I guess assessing him as unthreatening. Who am I kidding, Bear likes everyone. “The food smells good.”

  “You smell good,” he rumbles, glancing over me once again. “I’ve never seen you with—”

  “So little clothes on?” I insert, looking down at myself. “Let me get dressed.”

  “Take your time,” he croons, eyes alight with humor. “No need to put on any clothes on my behalf.”

  I roll my eyes and show him where my living room is, waiting until he’s sitting, before disappearing into my bathroom, where I blow out the candles and then put on panties, a bra, and my white robe. I’ll refill the bath and try to have another one when he leaves. When I come out again, I’ve found he’s already made himself at home, putting on the TV.

  “That’s your idea of clothes?” he teases as I sit down next to him. He slides over the food. “There’s nachos, two tacos, and a burrito.”

  My eyes go wide. “That’s a lot of food. Then again, you could probably eat it all, couldn’t you?”

  “I could,” he says, resting his arm behind my head, running it along the couch. “So choose what you want and hold on to it for dear life.”

  I grin and take out the nachos, then slide the rest over to him. “Better be jalapeños on there.”

  He makes a scoffing sound. “Of course, who do you think I am, Riley? I know you like it spicy.”

  My lip twitches as I open the white Styrofoam container, grabbing a plastic fork and taking a bite of the cheesy goodness. “Thanks for bringing me dinner.”

  “You’re welcome,” he says, watching me. “I knew it’s what would get me through the door.”

  I swallow my bite, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “You don’t need to bring me food to hang out with me. You could just let me know when you’re coming so I expect you.”

  “But then I won’t see you wet, in a towel, cheeks flushed,” he replies, and I can feel myself blushing.

  “You just say whatever you feel like saying, don’t you?” I ask him, realizing that he likes putting me on the spot. “No filter whatsoever.”

  “How do you get to really know someone if they’re not being honest about their thoughts? There’s no point sugarcoating who I am, and yes, I like to joke around and tease. I’m honest. And I like it when you blush. Not many women do anymore.”

  “You’d know,” I mutter under my breath, eyes on the food instead of him now.

  “Would I now? Been listening to gossip, Riley?” he asks, and I don’t miss the amusement in his tone.

  “No. I don’t listen to gossip. I believe what I see with my own eyes,” I tell him, bringing my eyes back to him. “Don’t forget that you’ve been coming to my pub ever since it opened, Hunter.”

  “How could I forget, when you’re the reason I keep coming back there?” the charmer fires back at me. “I remember the first day I saw you.”

  “I remember too,” I tell him. He and Jaxon together are quite the view, how could I forget? Hunter is the one who caught my eye though; the first thing that went through my mind when I saw him was This one is trouble. I stick to my first impression.

  I stare at the TV, which is hard because I can feel him watching me. I like it though. He likes watching me. It makes me feel—I don’t know—special, I guess, as stupid as that sounds. I’m not used to having someone pay so much attention to me, be so focused on me. It’s like he can’t look away, even if he wanted to. Like just being near me is enough. With Jeremy, after the first few years, I kind of faded into the background. He didn’t look at me like Hunter does, and the fucked-up thing is, I don’t think he ever did, but I didn’t have anything to compare it to, so I didn’t know any better.

  Maybe I still don’t know any better.

  chapter 18

  HUNTER

  I’M AT HER APARTMENT, and she’s in her robe. Dreams really can come true. We finish eating, and then I slowly slide my arm around her. She’s tense and stiff at the start, but her body soon relaxes into me. I don’t want to freak her out; I know she’s a flight risk, so I need to play this very carefully.

  “Your hair smells good,” I tell her, breathing in her scent.

  “Your beard smells good,” she replies, flashing me a cheeky smile. “I have to admit, I’ve been wanting to touch it ever since I first laid my eyes on it.”

  I take her hand and bring it to my beard. “All you had to do was ask. I just rubbed some oil on it this morning.”

  “You rub oil on it?” she asks, blinking slowly. “Pampering the beard?”

  “Something like that.” I grin.

  She tugs on it gently, and I stop myself from groaning. “I wonder what else you tug like that.”

  Her fingers stop wor
king, and she stills for a second, before throwing her head back and laughing. All I can do is watch and admire her with a smile on my face. When she laughs, she’s as beautiful as I’ve ever seen her. “You’re a fucking creep, you know that?”

  Now it’s my turn to laugh. “I’ve been called many things, Riley, but a creep has never been one of them.”

  “First time for everything. You like to stare at me and you smell my hair. What other conclusion am I meant to come to?” she says, lifting her chin. I can see the humor in her eyes though, and honestly she can call me what she wants, because I’m that infatuated with her.

  “That I like you, perhaps,” I suggest, tucking an errant lock of her hair behind her ear. “That I think you’re gorgeous. Stunning. Sweet.” I kiss her softly. “Sexy.”

  She glances down, her long eyelashes fanning on her cheek. “And what about the rest of it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You see what you want to see. Everyone has a bad side, Hunter. Everyone,” she explains, closing her eyes as she speaks, as if she doesn’t want to face me. Jeremy’s comments about Riley’s skeletons run through my mind. He never explained what he meant, but I know she’s got some demons. Maybe one day she will trust me enough to let them out.

  “I’d love to get to know all of you, Riley, not just the good parts,” I say softly. “If you just give me the chance.”

  She opens her mouth but then closes it, clearly deciding to say nothing on the subject. We both turn our attention to the movie, Wonder Woman, for a few moments before she speaks.

  “How long have you been single for?” she asks.

  “About three years,” I tell her. “I dated my ex for about two years, but it didn’t work out.”

  “Why not?” she asks, no judgment on her expression.

  “We went on vacation together, and I kind of realized that I didn’t imagine myself marrying this girl. They say when you travel with someone, only then do you see their true colors, and it must be true, because I learned a lot about her on that trip to England.”

  “I’ve always wanted to go to England,” she replies, her face lighting up. “Where else have you been?”

  I rattle off the countries I’ve visited while she hangs on my every word. Her ex had money, yet he didn’t take her anywhere? I want to show her the world and watch her face light up when she talks about it for the rest of our lives. I want to see everything through her eyes for the first time, and feel her happiness and excitement.

  “Whoa, you’ve been all over,” she beams, smiling. “I’ve only left the country once. There’s so many places I’d love to see before I die.”

  “You’ve got plenty of time,” I say, reaching out and taking her hand.

  She glances down at it, unsure, but then gives mine a little squeeze. “You’ll have to show me pictures from all your travels one day.”

  “Deal,” I tell her, but really, I want to show her in person.

  We spend the next few hours talking about everything and anything. Laughing. Learning. And when it’s time for me to go home I leave knowing one thing.

  My gut instinct was right.

  This is where I’m meant to be.

  “ARE YOU . . . WHISTLING?” TRISTAN asks me, eyes narrowing. “What have you done, Hunter?”

  “Or who has he done?” Jaxon inserts, entering my office and standing there, studying me, his hands full of paperwork.

  “I haven’t done anything,” I tell them, my chirpy tone only making them more suspicious. “Or anyone.”

  “Seriously, I could hear you whistling from the hallway,” Tristan remarks, sitting down opposite me and waiting for me to spill. “What’s going on?”

  “Can’t a man be happy?” I ask.

  Jaxon glances at his watch. “At nine a.m.?”

  “You’re not even a morning person,” Tristan points out, which is the truth—I’m really not. But still, after spending the evening with Riley yesterday, I’m probably going to be in a good mood all week. She’s letting me in. Slowly, but it’s happening. I can feel it.

  “I hung out with Riley last night,” I tell them, smiling widely. “So I’m happy today. Sue me.”

  Not something I should probably say to two lawyers, but anyway . . .

  “Did the two of you . . .” Jaxon clears his throat, trailing off. “You know?”

  “Did we what?” I ask, my expression a picture of innocence.

  “Fuck,” comes out of Tristan’s mouth.

  “No, we just watched movies, had dinner, and hung out,” I tell them. “Now you’re both ruining my good mood . . . . Don’t you have work to do?”

  Jaxon studies me, then smirks and asks, “Is this the first time where you haven’t gotten laid on the first date?”

  I don’t know if I’d call last night our first date. I want to take her out somewhere and put a lot more thought and effort into our first official date, but Jaxon is right.

  I’ve always fucked on the first night.

  I don’t know what that says about me, or about the women I date in general, but I’d rather not get into that.

  “Wasn’t a first date. Just two friends getting to know each other a little,” I reply, ignoring the rest of his question. “And while you’re both here, did you hear about the work party Yvonne is organizing? I can’t imagine the two of you dressing up.”

  “What’s the theme?” Tristan asks, not looking too happy about the idea.

  “Heroes and villains,” Jaxon tells him, shrugging. “Yvonne wanted to do it, and it’s something different from our usual dinners.”

  “I like our dinners,” Tristan replies grumpily, crossing his arms over his chest. “Kat’s going to be all over this, isn’t she?”

  “At least you won’t have to organize your own costume. I’m sure she’ll pick out something great for you,” I tease, smirking at him.

  “Who are you going to go as?” he asks me.

  “I don’t know yet,” I reply, but to be honest I’ll probably go as Iron Man because he’s my favorite superhero. I wonder if Riley will come as my date. I could just picture her in a Wonder Woman costume . . .

  Holy fuck.

  “Did you see that look on his face?” Jaxon asks Tristan, like I’m not even here.

  “Yep. He’s a goner,” Tristan replies, flashing me a look of sympathy. “Don’t worry, Hunter, it happens to the best of us.”

  “Or the worst of us,” Jaxon snickers, the asshole.

  The two of them leave with that parting comment. With Riley on my mind, I decide to send her a quick message.

  How’s work? I’ll be there for lunch. Feel free to save my seat for me.

  She doesn’t reply for an hour, probably because she’s actually working.

  Your seat is saved. Not too bad. We have some new things we’re trying on the menu. Feeling adventurous?

  Cheffy expanding his horizon?

  I reply, still amused that no one calls her chef by his real name, whatever that may be.

  Yes. And we need a guinea pig.

  I know she’s giving me shit because I always order the same thing, but I do like a challenge. I finish up at work and head over there, R & B music hitting me as I open the doors. Must be Riley’s playlist today. The pub is about half-full, but my spot near the bar is free. I sit down and wait for her to see me; her smile when she does is everything.

  She hands me a menu and leans over the countertop. “Finally, some eye candy around here.”

  “Are you objectifying me?” I ask, acting affronted. “I could sue you for sexual harassment. I’m just a hungry businessman looking to eat some meat, not to be treated like a piece of one.”

  She grins and rolls her eyes. “Speaking of meat, have a look and tell me what you think.”

  I glance down at the new menu, first checking that my regular option is still available before perusing the new section. “It looks good,” I tell her. “The noodles sound amazing.”

  “Want to try it?” she asks, smirking at
me.

  No.

  “Sure,” I tell her, sliding the menu back to her.

  YOLO.

  chapter 19

  RILEY

  GRINNING TO MYSELF, I hand in his order, then head back to him. I know that he doesn’t like changing his section, which actually makes no sense to me. He seems so easygoing, so adaptable and laid-back, I don’t know why he doesn’t like trying new things.

  “How’s your morning been?” I ask him.

  “Not bad. My client didn’t show up, so I had some spare time to catch up on other things,” he tells me, reaching out and taking my hand. He turns over my wrist and runs his finger over one of the charms on my old bracelet. “Horseshoe? Are you superstitious?”

  “Not really,” I explain. “Growing up I used to ride horses in my free time. I used to enter riding competitions and stuff like that. My dad bought me the charm on my sixteenth birthday.”

  “Do you still ride?” he asks, his thumb now rubbing circles along the inside of my wrist, sending shivers up my spine. I forget about the hustle and bustle around me, Hunter becoming my only focus. I don’t know how he does this, just brings a calm to me.

  “I haven’t in a long time,” I say, smiling sadly. “I should. I’d like to. I don’t have much free time anymore. How about you? I don’t imagine you have much free time with such a demanding career.”

  “Not really, to be honest,” he tells me. “I work a lot, but I can be flexible if I need to be. I try and spend time with my friends and family when I can. I love what I do, don’t get me wrong, but it doesn’t define me.”

  I like that he’s family oriented.

  “And you obviously go to the gym,” I point out, eyes raking over the muscles I can see straining through his white shirt.

  “What makes you say that?” he asks, flashing me a cocky look.

  I roll my eyes, regretting feeding his ego, but unable to stop myself I reach out and squeeze his rock-hard bicep. “Just an educated guess.”

  “I try to go after work every other day, just depends what time I finish. How about you?” he asks, glancing over my body. “What do you do that keeps you looking like that?”