Seducing Hunter

by Cathie Linz

  “It’s Gaylynn and I don’t need any stamps.”

  “You didn’t get any gas-o-leen,” Floyd said, enunciating it as if the word consisted of three separate parts.

  “I came to stock up on some food,” Gaylynn stated.

  “The Piggly-Wiggly over in Summerville is where most folks do their stocking up,” Floyd replied.

  “How far away is that?”

  “About a forty-minute drive,” Floyd said.

  “An hour, if you obey the speed limits,” Bessie inserted.

  “I was driving these roads before they had speed limits,” Floyd said.

  “I’d rather not go that far away,” Gaylynn decided. “I’ll just get what I need here.”

  “We don’t have the best selection,” Bessie had to confess.

  “But we do have something of just about everything,” Floyd added.

  “Just not much,” Bessie tacked on.

  “And we don’t carry any of them fancy TV dinners, neither.”

  “We have lots of ice cream, though.”

  Gaylynn was getting a crick in her neck from turning her head back and forth between Bessie and Floyd. A conversation with the two of them was like a tennis match, short words volleying back and forth.

  “What about tuna? And cat food?” Gaylynn asked.

  “I reckon we can fix you up with something. You bring some kitties down from the city with you?”

  “Actually, I found a family, a mama and two kittens, up in the woods. I was wondering if they belonged to anyone around here?”

  “Not that I know of. Most likely they’re just strays. We get lots of those down here.”

  Yeah, and I’m one of them, Gaylynn thought to herself. She gathered up her groceries, many things she hadn’t eaten in years—including oatmeal from the round cardboard box instead of a microwaveable packet. The bread they had was fresh baked by some one in town and the strawberry jam was homemade. She bought as many cans of tuna and boxes of dry cat food as they stocked. The Pit Stop didn’t have any fancy paper bags for her purchases, which made her glad she’d brought along a cloth tote bag to lug the stuff back to her car.

  But first she had to step over Bo Regard again, who this time lifted his head all of two inches before letting it drop again. He had a face only a mother could love and was actually so homely he was kind of cute—even if he did drool.

  As she loaded her trunk, she heard the telltale rush and ripple of the river. When driving in early yesterday morning, she remembered noticing that the buildings in Lonesome Gap clung to the small ribbon of land between the two-lane blacktop road and the river.

  Beyond that were the mountains, lush and green, rising directly beyond the narrow valley floor.

  Gaylynn might have lingered longer were it not for the Twittys’ curious stares as they watched her out the Pit Stop’s front window—their noses plastered against the plate-glass right beneath the neon Gas sign. With their eyes on her, she managed to spill half the contents of the tote bag before she got everything in the car.

  Gaylynn didn’t realize how uptight she was until she pulled in front of her brothe’s cabin. Only then did the tension ease from her shoulders.

  She spent most of her afternoon coaxing the kittens to let her pet them after they’d gobbled down theirfood. Spook still kept her distance, so that Gaylynn couldn’t even tell if she really was a she. But Blue did let Gaylynn briefly brush her fingertips over the kitten’s back. Gaylynn was reminded of Hunter touching her own back—with a similarly soothing movement.

  Once Hunter was in her thoughts, it was real tough booting him back out again. The best she could do was relegate him to a back corner of her mind as she sat on the covered front porch and watched the feline family playing with leaves left from last autumn.

  At first, she didn’t even realize she’d picked up a pencil and started doodling on the back of the old-fashioned receipt from the Pit Stop. Looking down, she was amazed to discover that she’d drawn the view of the woods in front of her. Even more surprising was the fact that it wasn’t half-bad.

  Funny, she’d never been able to draw worth a hoot before. Her artistic abilities were somewhere between zilch and nada. It had been something of a joke at the school, where she’d had the crookedest display boards of any class. The kids were better at art than she was.

  There was a lot she missed about teaching—the feeling of making a difference, the interaction with the kids, the expression in her students’ eyes when they first grasped a new concept in reading or math. For the first time in a long time the thought of teaching didn’t fill her with blind panic. She wasn’t ready to return yet, not by any means, but she could feel the peaceful surroundings beginning to work their magic on her.

  Thinking of magic naturally led her thoughts to the Rom box she still had stored inside the cabin. And from there, her thoughts roved right on to Hunter. Would he stop by tonight as he’d said he would? Tomorrow you can cook dinner, he’d told her last night. She’d told him not to bother, but she had the feeling that he took her words about as seriously as he did learning how to tickle trout.

  The sun was just about setting, and from her vantage point she could see the heavenly orange glow radiating from the western horizon. Hunter should be coming home from work soon.

  As it turned out, Hunter didn’t stop by that night so he couldn’t sample the tuna-and-noodle casserole she’d made. In fact, he didn’t come home at all—at least, she hadn’t heard him drive up by the time she’d fallen asleep at almost 4:00 a.m.

  The next morning, she’d woken up with the birds and taken a walk, not deliberately intending to head in the direction of his cabin. Her feet just took her there on automatic pilot, even though she’d never been to his place before. The cabin’s design matched the one she was staying in, with the addition of a stone chimney on one side.

  Hunter’s car wasn’t in front and there was no one home. She tried not to worry about him, reminding herself that he’d been taking care of himself just fine for years now.

  But the questions came, anyway. What if something had happened to him? Had there been trouble at work? Was heall right? She knew it wasn’t logical to be worried about him. As he’d said, this wasn’t Chicago-drive-by shootings were not a fact of life in Lonesome Gap.

  Her fingers trembled as she fed the kitties back near her cabin. How would she know if something had happened to Hunter? There was no phone in the cabin and she hadn’t given him the number on the cellular phone her brother insisted she bring with her. Who would know to contact her?

  Stop it, she told herself. Nothing has happened to him. Geez, what a sissy you are! Talk about a nervous Nellie!

  Her anxiety only served to remind Gaylynn that she was in no condition to be able to cope with the danger involved with his life, and she hated being so weak. Hunter deserved someone as strong as he was.

  Gaylynn had just stepped out of the shower when there was a knock at the cabin’s front door. Her heart leapt to her throat.

  “Gaylynn, it’s me,” Hunter loudly announced from the other side of the door.

  Forgetting that she was still wearing her rose-colored terry-cloth robe, she rushed to the door and opened it. Hunter looked haggard and weary. “Sorry I wasn’t able to take you up on that dinner invitation last night.”

  “No big deal,” she lied. “It wasn’t really an invitation, at all. In fact, you invited yourself and then I uninvited you.”

  “Yeah, well, there was some trouble in town.”

  “What happened—were you hurt?” She ran the two questions together.

  “Some idiot in a pickup truck decided to take a joyride down the main highway. On the wrong side of the street. Playing chicken with a semi-truck filled with fertilizer. Both vehicles swerved—luckily in opposite directions—to avoid an accident. As it was, the pickup ended in a ditch and the semi-trailer tipped over. After making sure the driver of the semi was okay, my deputy approached the pickup—only to end up with a bullet through his foot
.”

  “He was shot!”

  Hunter nodded.

  “Will he be okay?”

  “He’ll live,” Hunter replied as he lowered himself to the lumpy couch. “Considering where he could have been shot, he’s mighty lucky.”

  “You don’t sound very sympathetic.”

  “I’m not. I spent the night doing the rest of his shift and then my own.”

  “It’s not his fault he was shot!”

  “It sure was.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said it’s his own fault he got shot. Who else’s would it be?”

  “The man who shot him.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So did you arrest the man who shot him?”

  “Don’t think I wasn’t damn tempted to.”

  “You mean you let him go?”

  “He’s at the clinic over in Summerville.”

  “And then he’ll be arrested?”

  “Unfortunately, stupidity isn’t against the law.”

  “You let the driver of that pickup go?”

  “Of course not. He’s locked up awaiting transferal to the county facility.”

  “But you just said—”

  “Deputy Carberry shot himself,” Hunter explained. “He was approaching the pickup truck and getting ready to withdraw his weapon from his holster when he tripped over something in the grass. His finger squeezed the trigger and, presto, he shot himself in his big toe. Damn fool wasn’t wearing his regulation shoes. By the time I got to him he was bleeding a lot, but it looked worse than it was.”

  Bleeding a lot. Gaylynn paled at the words.

  “You don’t look too good,” Hunter noted in concern. “You’re not going to pass out on me or anything, are you?” he demanded, getting up to put an arm around her and gently tug her against his broad chest.

  With the contact, her sensitized nerve endings absolutely tingled. She could feel the heat radiating from his body. He was wearing his sheriff’s uniform—such as it was. A black leather jacket, blue shirt and black pants. The wide belt around his trim waist held official-looking things like handcuffs, bullet cases and a flashlight holder. Now that she looked closer, she realized the pants were actually black jeans. And they fit him to a T.

  Stop it, she told herself, angry with herself for falling prey to her own emotions for him. Emotions that were from the past, not her present, she reminded herself.

  “You’re shaking,” he declared in disbelief. Looking down at her through narrowed eyes, he said, “This reaction has something to do with what happened to you, doesn’t it?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You might as well tell me, I’ll hound the truth out of you one way or another.”

  Furious, Gaylynn said, “What gives you the right-”

  Hunter interrupted her to say, “This does.” And then he kissed her.

  Four

  Hunter only meant to show her that he wasn’t going to let her escape from the truth anymore. That she couldn’t escape from him.

  Gaylynn only wanted to teach him that he couldn’t browbeat her into doing his bidding anymore. That she wasn’t an adoring teenager ready to obey his every command.

  But once his lips covered hers, she could fight no longer. His tender flerceness and hunger took her completely by surprise.

  He showed her how much he wanted her.

  She taught him that she wanted him, too.

  His lips were firm yet soft as he moved his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss and taking it from the initial stage of experimentation to one of heated pleasure. Did she part her lips because of the seductively coaxing darts of his tongue or because of her own need for him? Who cared? She only knew she couldn’t get enough of the minty male taste of him.

  He drew her closer. His hands rested on her shoulders, conveying not just their physical warmth but a sense of assurance and leashed power. Fighting never entered her mind. Only surrendering did. And in doing so, to be victorious. Conquering indecision, she put her arms around his neck and leaned even farther into the kiss.

  He tightened his hands on her shoulders, tugging her closer for one soul-searing, darkly devouring moment before suddenly setting her away from him.

  Stunned, Gaylynn could only blink myopically at him—her mind a complete blank, her senses buzzing on full alert, her heart beating a mile a minute.

  She lifted her trembling hand to her mouth, still quivering from the passion of their kiss. “What did you do that for?” Her question came out as a rusty whisper.

  She’d spoken without thinking, and had meant why had he stopped kissing her, why had he so abruptly pushed her away. Thank God he took it to mean why had he kissed her in the first place.

  “That wasn’t planned,” he muttered roughly, shoving one hand through his hair. “I was just trying to teach you a lesson—”

  He got no further. “Don’t bother,” she interrupted him, her voice fiery enough to sizzle bacon. So he’d only kissed her to teach her a lesson, had he? Of all the nerve! The entire thing had been what. an act? His hunger had been a ploy, or maybe she’d just imagined it, projecting her own feelings on to him.

  “I was just trying to get you to talk to me, to tell me what’s been bothering you…”

  So kissing her had simply been his way of getting the truth out of her. If so, he was successful. But the truth he got was that she was still attracted to him. “Your methods stink!” she exclaimed, tightening the belt on her robe.

  Her anger didn’t faze Hunter. Gaylynn spit like a kitten saying, “Stay away from me,” when it really meant, “Don’t hurt me.”

  “You can trust me,” he softly reassured her.

  “Yeah, your actions certainly proved that,” she retorted sarcastically.

  The disappointment she saw in his green eyes was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She couldn’t fight any longer. Because now she had something else to fear. And that was her growing feelings for him.

  If she’d opened that love-charmed Rom box and immediately seen Hunter, she could possibly excuse the way she felt. This way she couldn’t even blame magic. She didn’t even have that justification.

  She’d revealed too much of herself with that kiss. Revealed too much of her newfound need for him.

  The best she could hope for was that once his curiosity about what was bothering her was satisfied, Hunter would move on. Oh, he’d offer his support first. And she’d accept it. On the surface. Because if she didn’t, he might take it into his head to kiss her again. And while half of her wanted that desperately, the other half was afraid.

  If Hunter really knew how utterly terrified she was inside, he’d go running in the other direction. No; she silently amended. Hunter had never been one to abandon a creature in pain. He’d try to mend her, like those birds he’d taken in as a kid.

  So what should she do? What did anyone do when placed between a rock and hard place? Her best bet would be to hell him the truth and hope for the best. And to avoid looking in his eyes, she reminded herself while nervously twisting a strand of her hair around her index finger, practically strangling it in the process.

  Taking her hand in his, Hunter squeezed it reassuringly. “Just tell me.”

  “Look, it. Before I can tell you, I want your solemn promise that you won’t tell my brother or anyone else.” Seeing that he was about to protest, she yanked her hand away and glared at him, forgetting her decision of not looking in his eyes made mere seconds ago. Her anger helped firm her wobbly backbone. “I mean it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Promise,” she persisted.

  “I promise.”

  “It’s just.” She shoved her hair behind one ear before rushing on. “Something happened at school. I was mugged by one of my former students. It was my fault.”

  “Your fault that you got mugged?”

  “I was in the building late, later than I ever was. It was stupid. There had been some trouble before—we’re talking about an inne
r-city school here. Not that it was awful by any means. It’s just that you learned to take certain precautions. I didn’t take those precautions that afternoon.”

  “Were you hurt?” he immediately asked.

  She rubbed the tiny scar at her throat even as she shook her head. “Not really, no. He held a knife on me—he was just a kid, high on drugs. I didn’t know what he’d do. I gave him all the money I had and he took off. I recognized him as he ran away. I called the police—”

  “Then how come Michael doesn’t know?” he interrupted her to ask.

  “Because I made sure the police didn’t tell him. My brother had enough problems of his own at the time. He didn’t need to be worrying about me.”

  “Someone should,” Hunter muttered.

  She glared at him.

  “All right. All right,” he relented, holding both his hands out to indicate he’d hold his tongue, for the time being. “Go on. Did they catch the kid?”

  “He.he was killed the next day. I came home from work and saw it. on the TV. He was fleeing on foot, the police were after him, and he ran right in front of a bus. He died instantly.” Gaylynn couldn’t say any more. Couldn’t talk about all the blood. Couldn’t bear the flash of memory.

  “And you’ve been trying to deal with all this on your own?” Hunter demanded.

  “No, I knew when I started crying and wasn’t able to stop that I needed some help. I went to see a counselor afterward. Logically, I know all the reasons why I feel the way I do. I just need some time to heal.”

  “And that’s why you came here?”

  She nodded.

  “It was stupid of you to try and handle this alone,” he said with characteristic bluntness. “You should have told your family and your friends.”

  She bristled at his “big brother” tone of voice. “My roommate in Chicago knows what happened. I share an apartment with her near Lincoln Park. I had to explain why I was taking off for a few weeks. Before I left, I paid my portion of the rent through the end of the school year, when our lease is up. I had things all under control until you showed up.” And kissed me senseless, a tiny inner voice continued in her head. “Everything will be okay once I’ve had some time to rest and recover. I’ve been teaching for seven years now. I probably needed the break. Maybe this is fate’s way of making sure I get it.”