by Beverly Bird
Liv seemed to think about that, then she nodded. “Fair enough.”
She looked too good standing there in a silky robe, he thought. It was long, ankle length, but it clung. And he wondered how it was that he still knew exactly how she would feel under his hands, how all those dips and curves of hers would mold to his palms through the silk.
It bothered him, so he tried to antagonize her. “It could be said that you’re infringing on my kitchen time right now.”
He thought she twitched a little, but then she pulled her temper back. “Except for the fact that I buy the food. What did you buy?”
“You mean besides a red bridle?”
She stiffened visibly. “Besides that.”
Hunter waved a hand. “This and that.”
“This and what?”
“Bread. Mayo.”
She nodded. “Even you should be able to master a sandwich.”
Especially with a note full of directions, he thought.
She moved stiffly into the room and sank down at the table. “Bourne said that I should try whiskey and tea and honey for my throat. I’m desperate enough now to give it a shot.”
“Feel that bad?”
“Wow, Hunter. You’ve learned understatement.”
He almost grinned. He almost offered to get it for her. Except he was still trying hard to hate her, and if he moved, she’d see what Kiki had done. “I’ll be out of here in five minutes.”
Liv curled her legs under her on the chair. “I’ll wait, then.”
“You should be in bed. I’ll bring you the tea concoction on my way up. I have to go right past your room, anyway.”
She frowned. “Why? Why are you being so nice to me?”
He thought fast. “Because I never kick when my adversary is down.”
She propped her chin in her hand. “You forget that I’ve known a few of your adversaries.”
No, he thought, he’d never forgotten a moment, a breath, a word. And that was what was killing him. “Name one.”
Liv rubbed her forehead. “Can’t I just have my tea?”
“I said I’d bring it to you.”
“Never mind. I’ll get it myself.” She stood and went to the stove. Hunter pivoted with her to keep his back to the sandwich makings.
His gut grumbled again. They both heard it.
“Lose your taste for fast food, Hunter?” she asked idly, putting the teapot on.
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“You took Vicky for a burger. Didn’t you get one for yourself?”
He had. But Vicky had gobbled up half his fries. He hadn’t realized a kid could eat like that—complaining all the while about the lack of quality. “It didn’t fill me,” he said.
She had turned around to face him and was staring at him now. Hunter leaned nonchalantly against the counter.
“Why are you standing there like that?” she asked.
“Like what?”
“Like this.” She imitated his stance. “You haven’t moved from that spot since I got here.”
“Where am I supposed to go?”
She almost grinned. “Don’t tempt me like that.” Then her eyes narrowed.
And that, he thought, that was the exact moment she became suspicious. He saw it in the way her chin came up fast, almost as though she had taken a blow there, and in the way her hands fisted.
“Move,” she said.
“Where?”
“Left or right. Doesn’t matter to me.”
“I’m fine right here, thanks.”
“You’re hiding something.”
He was desperate. He looked down at himself. “Nope. You haven’t turned me on in a very long time, Livie.” A lie. “And when you used to, I never hid it.”
He glanced up again in time to see the heat fly into her face. “You’re changing the subject,” she accused, “and doing a poor job of it.”
She came toward him. Hunter backed up. He thought of reaching behind him and trying to sweep the bread and the mayo and the note into his other hand. Wouldn’t work. He’d never catch it all. She stopped within inches of him and reached around him.
He was all out of distractions. So he kissed her again.
He brought both hands up fast and cupped her face. There was no more room for finesse now than there had been the first time he had finally tasted her, a lifetime ago now. He plunged in and took things she’d never consider giving if she had enough time for thought. He swept his tongue past her teeth, invaded and felt something rock inside him as memory leaped up again, craving, needing, like he had never needed anyone before or since.
She had been cold, so cold, Liv thought crazily. And then, suddenly, there was heat. Licking along her nerve endings. She couldn’t remember that she had never wanted this to happen again. Every beat of her heart answered his, and every beat pumped more fire through her. She managed to reach up and wrap her fingers around each of his wrists, but she didn’t pull his hands from her face. She found herself touching his tongue instead, meeting it with hers, wanting to swallow every essence of him.
“Not in the rules,” she said desperately against his mouth.
“Damn your rules. And damn you, Livie, for making me still want you.”
He was crazed with it, Hunter thought, with this business of wanting that had never gone away. He turned her hard and fast against the counter, needing to press himself up against her, agonizing for that old feel of how she would fit against him. Her hands came free from his wrists as she gasped, and her arms went around his neck.
Then something crashed and shattered at their feet.
She cried out and jumped forward into him. He closed his arms around her, even knowing it was too late. She started beating against his shoulders with her fists. “Stop this, Hunter! Stop! What was that?”
He didn’t know, didn’t care, but he took a step back and his heel slid in something greasy. Hunter looked down. It was the mayonnaise and what was left of the mayonnaise jar.
“I’m sorry,” she said hoarsely, bending down. “We broke your—”
And then, with her sudden movement, Kiki’s note fluttered off the counter. It floated down onto her head. Liv trailed off and reached up when she felt it. Her fingers closed around it and she came to her feet again, staring at it. Reading it.
And he saw everything inside her go hard.
She crumpled it in her fist and veered for the trash can, tossing it.
“Liv, I didn’t ask her—” He broke off when she hit the kitchen door with both hands, then jerked back to him as it swung wildly behind her.
“Shut up!” she interrupted. Her voice was so hollow it hurt him. “You know what, Hunter? I’m not sure what bothers me most—that she’s aiding and abetting you behind my back, or that you kissed me again just to protect her.”
Then she was gone.
Hunter stared down at the mayonnaise, wishing his blood would stop raging, feeling five hundred times the fool.
Chapter 9
L iv didn’t mention the betrayal to Kiki.
Through the next few days, while she was down with the flu, she told herself that she didn’t have the energy for that kind of confrontation. After that she reasoned that Kiki would only talk circles around her, anyway. Finally she decided there was no way to confront her without admitting that Hunter had kissed her again. And that was something Liv only wanted to forget.
The truth was, losing Kiki to Hunter’s corner cut her clear to the bone and she couldn’t face it head-on. And the kiss stayed with her, anyway, a shadowy, haunting memory that could make her body come suddenly alive whenever it slipped past her defenses.
The first time he had kissed her—on the roadside—had been a reflex born of anger. She’d convinced herself of that. What had this time been? He had been protecting Kiki. Diverting her attention. It was the only thing that made sense.
The alternative—that they still wanted each other so much that they couldn’t keep their hands off each ot
her—terrified her.
She’d kissed him back.
Liv forced herself to keep busy so she wouldn’t have time to dwell on it. She put a calendar on her sitting room wall and took to crossing each day off as it arrived, another minimilestone to the time when Hunter would leave again. She made a solemn ritual of it every morning before munching cornflakes in the kitchen while Vicky and Hunter gobbled up all the good food with the guests. Then she dragged Vicky off to the school bus.
When she got back she generally went straight to the office and shut herself inside. She worked for an hour until it was time to go to the barn for the trail ride. On Tuesdays Liv went to Mustang Ridge. On Fridays it was Hunter’s turn. They fell into the rhythm by unspoken accord.
Vicky brought home no new coveted possessions. On a night when Hunter took her out for dinner, he asked Liv first.
It was all very civilized and manageable. Liv wanted to scream.
Three weeks after the night in the kitchen, she got her chance. She went downstairs to tea and found him there. The guests du jour included a handful of men in their midtwenties, intent on seeing their country on a budget before they settled down. There was also a young couple from St. Louis—Beth and Alex Roberts. Hunter was holding court with the men, lounging against one wall with a delicate china cup in his hand.
He looked ridiculous. And this was her turf. Liv’s blood boiled.
She stepped up beside him. “What are you doing here?” she demanded in an undertone.
“Well, if it’s not our lovely hostess,” he drawled loudly enough to include the guests.
Liv backed off, gritting her teeth, and went to pour her own tea. “You’re joining us today?” she asked as pleasantly as she could manage.
“Eddie here has convinced me that Kiki’s baking is even better than her breakfast offerings.”
“And you’ve sampled those widely enough,” Liv said tightly.
“It’s my main meal of the day. I’ve learned to stay clear of the kitchen otherwise. It’s scary there.”
She felt her face flame. She bracketed her teacup in both hands to avoid a spill and turned to the men. She forced a bright grin.
“Are you enjoying Jerome, Byron?” she asked one of their group.
“Yeah, it’s great.” He glanced at her, then looked back at Hunter. “I saw that race. Last lap and Rowland spun you out.”
Liv frowned. She turned to Eddie, another of the cross-country travelers, and opened her mouth, but Hunter’s voice cut her off before she could say a word.
“It was the only way he could win.”
“Yeah, but you popped him on pit road.” Eddie laughed. “That was a hell of a retaliatory move.”
Hunter grinned. “It cost me ten thousand bucks. NASCAR fined me.”
“Fined you?” asked Alex Roberts.
Hunter shrugged. “The race was over by then. They said it was uncalled for.”
“Except Rowland cost you a first-place finish,” Eddie reminded him.
“Rowland needed it more than I did. And he told them his brakes went soft. He got too close to me, couldn’t ease back, tapped my rear bumper, and I went into the wall. Purely an accident.”
There was a chorus of disbelieving guffaws. Liv cleared her throat loudly. All eyes swiveled her way.
“I want to invite you all on our daily trail ride tomorrow morning,” she began. “It’s—”
“Are you going on it?” Beth Roberts interrupted to ask Hunter, adoration in her eyes.
Liv put her cup down and gave up.
She left the room and headed for the kitchen. Kiki was cleaning up when she got there. She stalked past her and went to the office.
“What’s wrong?” Kiki asked. “Why aren’t you at tea?”
“They’re having a Hunter-fest in there. You might as well join them. You’re one of his biggest fans.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Liv slammed the office door hard.
A moment later she heard a fist rap against it. She launched out of her chair and went back to the door, ready for a fight now. She would finish this off with Kiki once and for all. She’d let it simmer too long. She had a few things to say on the matter, even if she did have to admit to the kiss. Damn it, it hurt.
Liv yanked open the door. Hunter stood there instead.
“Get away from me,” she warned when she recovered from her surprise. She tried to close the door again.
Hunter stuck one booted foot over the threshold to stop her. “I’ve given you a month to come to your senses. We’re going to have this out now, Liv.”
“There’s nothing to have out.”
“How about the fact that you’re a lousy loser? You acted like a disgruntled child back there.”
It ignited something inside her. Liv shoved hard against his chest until he took a step back. She squeezed past him into the kitchen again and looked for something to throw at him.
She only barely registered that Kiki was gone.
“You took my Friday afternoons at Mustang Ridge away from me!” she shouted. “Then you took my best friend away from me! Now you want my tea hour, too?”
“You’re being an idiot. But you’re so wrapped up in resenting my presence here that you can’t even see it.”
She grabbed a spatula off the counter and heaved it. It only infuriated her more that he caught it cleanly.
“I’ve been holding my tongue,” he said, “thinking you’d get it out of your system and settle down. But that’s not working, is it?”
“Your tongue’s not the problem,” she grated. “It’s your very existence that ticks me off.”
“What’s happened to you, Liv? You used to be gracious in defeat. Give it up. You lost. I’m staying the ninety days.”
She felt herself shaking. Then tears burned at her eyes and she was appalled. Liv blinked hard. “I never adapted well to things being forced on me. Never.”
He leaned one shoulder against the frame of her office door. “You used to make plans, design rational escape routes. Now you’re just being cranky.”
The Res. “I was a kid. Being cranky wouldn’t have done me any good.”
“It’s not doing you any good now.”
“I’ve only just gotten started.” He grinned fast. It tugged at something near her heart. She closed her eyes, hating it. “If you want to have tea with the guests, then go do it. I’ll back off.”
He didn’t move except to cross his arms over his chest. “You just can’t get past the fact that I actually left all those years ago when you told me to, can you? What did you want me to do, Livie? Beg?”
Yes. Things were cracking inside her, the thin, strained civility that had held her together this long. “You’re forgetting one thing, Hunter. I wanted you to go away. Why would I blame you for it? I was marrying Johnny.”
“Someday I’ll get to the bottom of why you did that, too.”
“He was what I wanted. You weren’t.”
“But I was what you needed.” His voice dropped a notch. He pushed off the door and took a fast step toward her. “You’re holding a grudge, Liv. And the only thing that’s going to make you happy now is if my daughter hates me, if Kiki hates me, if every tourist who sets foot into this inn hates me. That’s what you want. That’s the only revenge you’ll accept for something you started in the first place by marrying another man when you were pregnant with my child.”
He was standing too close to her. Liv drove a hand against his chest to back him off.
“I never would have left you, Livie. Never, if you’d just told me the truth.”
Something broke inside her.
She threw herself at him. She wanted him to defend himself, to fight back. But he only caught her wrists in his hands and held them as she tried to wrestle free of him again. And that was when they heard the back door slam.
“Stop it, stop it, stop it!”
Vicky’s voice ricocheted through the kitchen. She came through the back door from the sch
ool bus, into the kitchen like a bullet. She didn’t aim for Hunter. She went to her mother.
Hunter let go of Liv abruptly and she stumbled back.
“You lied!” Vicky howled.
Oh, God, Liv thought, how much had she heard? “Baby, no—”
“Shut up! You did! You said you loved him once but that was a lie because you’re hateful now! All you ever do is yell at him!”
It drove into her chest like a blade. “It’s grown-up stuff, Vic—”
“Then how come no other grown-up is doing it? Everybody else is nice ’cept you!”
Liv felt the room spin away. “I’ve got to go,” she said hoarsely.
She headed for the back door. She was running. Like a coward. But she felt as though her entire world was coming apart…just as she had feared, every moment of every day since he had come here.
Vicky blamed her for the discord in the inn. Everyone is happy ’cept you! Liv jolted all over again—painfully, deeply—as she reached her mare’s stall. The horse skittered nervously in the enclosed space when she burst in. Liv put a hand to her neck to calm her, and she felt the tears coming on again.
This time she wouldn’t be able to stop them.
No one else had been hurt as deeply all those years ago as she had been, she thought desperately. She remembered every crack of her heart the night she’d tried to tell him about the baby. She had a right to be bitter, to hold a grudge.
The only thing that’s going to make you happy now is if my daughter hates me, if Kiki hates me, if every tourist who sets foot into this inn hates me. She’d been clinging to that all along, she realized. To the idea that it would make him go again. That he wouldn’t see the ninety days through.
Yes, she thought, yes, she had been trying to starve him out.
The stall door opened abruptly and Hunter looked in on her.
“I sent Vicky to her room,” he said flatly. “She had no business talking to you that way. No matter what.”
A giddy laugh tried to get past the knot in Liv’s throat. “I guess you just blew your Favorite Parent Award.”
“Well, there you go then. You’ve won a round.”
The tears came again. Liv twisted her head to the side so he couldn’t see them. “Get out of here.”