by Lucy Quinn
Cookie held out the bag containing the ear, and when he scowled in confusion she said, “Artist thing.”
Barry cracked a smile. “Got it. I’ll take it from here,” he said and then quickly hurried to deal with the body.
“Let’s go. I lost sensation in my fingers a half hour ago.” Cookie said as she turned back and waved good-bye to Mrs. Gibbons, who disappeared behind her curtain the instant she met Cookie’s eye. Grinning, Cookie took off down the street, Hunter’s chuckle behind her warming her against the cold air long after they’d left the house behind.
4
When the inn came into view, Cookie stopped short. “Oh,” she said softly.
Rain had been the one to hit upon Secret Seal Isle as the place they should go when they were fleeing Philly. Together they’d browsed the island’s minimalist website, and that was where they’d spotted a small banner ad that read, Local inn for sale.
The second they’d clicked on the link and the inn’s picture had popped up, they’d both been lost. It was a beautiful building, something that hit Cookie every time she saw it. The turret, the big front porch, the way the roof arched up in front and how that angle was mirrored just above the front door. Add in the carved wooden trim along the porch’s upper edge and below the windows, and the whole place looked like it could have been plucked from an old movie—or a dream.
And never more so than right now. The sun was just starting to set, painting the inn with rose, amber, and gold, and setting off the small lights that twinkled around every porch column, along the railing, and across each and every window. The lights had not been there when Cookie and Hunter had left the inn earlier that day. And they were beautiful.
“Nice,” Hunter said as he stepped up behind her. She could feel his warmth right through both their coats and shivered as he leaned in close, his breath tickling her ear. “Really nice,” he half whispered and half purred, and Cookie felt like every bone in her body had just turned to jelly. Which was, of course, exactly the effect he had been going for.
But Cookie wasn’t about to be won that easily. With a supreme effort she managed to keep from flopping backward into his arms. Instead she charged the rest of the way up the hill, took the porch stairs two at a time, and burst into the inn’s front hall where she saw her mother through the doorway of the kitchen. “It looks amazing!” she proclaimed, throwing her arms wide.
“Oh, I’m glad you like it,” Rain replied, walking toward her. She was still wearing an apron over her clothes, and both it and her hands were covered in flour and other bits of culinary debris. Cookie’s mom was still in the process of wiping her hands on her apron when the footsteps outside warned that Hunter had made it onto the porch. For a change Rain burst into a big grin as Cookie’s former partner peeled open the front screen and stepped inside. Then she practically shouldered Cookie out of the way and made a beeline for the door and the man still halfway through it.
“Why, hello there, Hunter,” Rain cooed, tilting her head back to peer up at him and batting her eyelashes at near-hummingbird speed. “Welcome back to the inn.”
“Thanks,” Hunter replied, clearly a bit mystified by the surprisingly warm welcome. Rain had made it very clear on his last visit that she was solidly on Team Dylan.
But as he made to step around her, Rain raised a hand and set it gently but firmly against his chest. “Uh-uh, cowboy,” she admonished. “Not so fast. There’s a toll to pay.” Then with her other hand, she gestured up above them.
Cookie looked up as well and wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Because there, hanging over the entry just inside the door, was a sprig of mistletoe.
“Pucker up, big boy,” Rain declared. Then, even as Hunter stopped and glanced around, obviously confused, Cookie’s mom grabbed his tie, yanked him down to her level, and planted a humdinger of a kiss right on his lips—one that would’ve sizzled the screen in any Hollywood blockbuster.
When Rain finally let Hunter up, both of them looked a little dazed, though Cookie suspected for slightly different reasons. She couldn’t be one hundred percent certain, but she could have sworn her mom had just slipped her almost-could-be boyfriend some tongue.
“So, Mom,” Cookie declared, trying to break the awkward silence that had settled over them all. “How’d you get those lights put up so fast?”
“Hm?” Rain had been fanning herself, but now she looked over at Cookie with a bright smile. “Oh, I didn’t do them, dear. Dylan did. Such a nice boy, and so good with his hands.”
Cookie rolled her eyes, though not before she saw Hunter’s stunned expression harden into a fierce glower. Great. That was all she needed, the return of hostilities between the two men in her life.
Before she could apologize to Hunter for her mother’s behavior, however, Rain had turned back to him. “Anyway, Hunter,” she exclaimed cheerfully, “you’re just the man I wanted to see. Come with me.” She looped her arm through his and started dragging him toward the living room.
“Me?” Hunter managed, planting his feet. Rain tugged on his arm, but since he was nearly twice her size, her efforts resembled a puppy trying to move a house. “Don’t you mean Dylan?”
“Hm? Oh, no, dear,” Rain replied. “Dylan’s too local to help me with this. I need someone more… exotic.”
“Mother,” Cookie interjected, “what exactly are you talking about?”
“Oh, I’m planning a Holiday Revue!” Rain told her, somehow managing to clap her hands together without removing her arm from Hunter’s. “And I thought Hunter could bring that out-of-town perspective.”
Hunter turned pleading eyes toward Cookie, clearly terrified of the small woman beside him, but Cookie smiled. “I think that’s a great idea,” she told him over her mother’s head. “It’d give the two of you a chance to spend some quality time together.” And maybe, she thought, it would help sway Rain from her previous anti-Hunter stance. Because the constant digs at him and the constant plugs for Dylan, had gotten old ages ago.
Both she and Rain turned expectantly toward Hunter, who for a second froze like a deer in the headlights. Finally, though, he nodded. “Okay,” he said slowly, looking like he couldn’t believe he was agreeing to this. “I’m flattered that you want my help, Rain, and I’ll do what I can.”
“Oh, goody!” Rain resumed her dragging, and this time Hunter let her lead him away, but not before he shot Cookie a parting glance that said, ‘You owe me big-time for this.’
She shook her head and thought, not if it makes my mom like you. Then you’ll be the one owing me. The two disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving Cookie alone in the hall.
She was still hanging her coat up when Scarlett came down the stairs. “Hey, when’d you get back?” her best friend asked.
“Just a minute ago,” Cookie said. “Hunter and I were checking on a crime scene.”
“Oh? Hunter’s here?” Scarlett raised a hand and touched her hair. “Hm.”
Cookie hip-checked her. “I thought you didn’t like him.”
“Oh, I like him just fine,” Scarlett shot back, grinning wickedly. “And fine is exactly what he is. I just don’t think he’s the one for you. For me, however—definitely.”
“Well, you’ll have to pry him out of my mom’s clutches first,” Cookie told her. “She said she needed him to help with some holiday event.”
She was surprised when Scarlett sputtered, and for a second thought something was wrong until she realized her oldest friend was actually laughing so hard her eyes were tearing up. “What’s so funny?” Cookie demanded.
“Do you even known what your mother is doing?” Scarlett replied once she’d regained the ability to speak.
Before Cookie could answer, Hunter stormed back into the hall. His face was thunderous. “Do you have any idea what your mother has planned for that revue of hers?” he demanded, his eyes black as pitch and his voice gruff and full of outrage.
“Uh, no,” Cookie managed, wilting a little under his glare. “But I ge
t the feeling I’m about to find out.”
Instead of telling her, however, Hunter threw his hands up in disgust. Then he pushed past her and Scarlett—who was once again shaking with barely restrained laughter—and stomped up the stairs toward his room. A second later the crack of the door slamming echoed back down to them.
“What the hell?” Cookie asked, but Scarlett shook her head and waved toward the kitchen. Her best friend’s laughter finally erupted just as Cookie turned and headed toward Rain in search of answers.
She found her mother in the kitchen, tucking a pie into the oven. “Dinner in ten,” Rain declared as she slid the oven door shut again and brushed her hands off on her apron. “Set the table, would you, dear?”
“Sure thing, Mom,” Cookie replied automatically. Then she stopped herself. “Mom, what is this Holiday Revue of yours, exactly?”
“Oh, you’re going to love it!” Rain exclaimed. “Winter and I came up with it. Just a little something to spice up the holiday season.” She had that particular grin and that specific twinkle that she only got when she was up to something, usually something either illegal, or naughty, or both.
“Spice up how?” Cookie tried again.
This time her mother laughed. “It’s an all-male revue!” she announced, bouncing like a small child on a sugar binge. “It’s going to be amazing.”
“An all-male revue?” Cookie gaped at her. “You mean, as in—?”
“A whole bunch of handsome fellas up on stage strutting their stuff like those fellows in Thunder from Down Under, yes,” her mother confirmed gleefully. “I can’t wait to see what they’re all hiding under their winter parkas.” She pumped her eyebrows, but then her expression shifted to a pout. “It’s too bad Hunter refused. With that build and those looks and that skin, he’d have been a natural.”
“Mom!” Cookie wasn’t sure why she was even surprised. After all these years, she should have been immune to being shocked by her mother. Yet somehow, Rain still managed to outdo herself. “What does Hale think of all this?” she asked finally. Hale Morris was Rain’s boyfriend, a tall courier who she suspected was closer to Cookie’s age than Rain’s. She tried not to dwell on that detail too much.
If she’d hoped to make her mother pause by bringing Hale up, however, Cookie was quickly disappointed. “Are you kidding?” Rain replied with a laugh. “He’s totally looking forward to it.”
“Oh? He’s going?” Cookie asked carefully. She already suspected what her mother’s answer would be, and sure enough Rain laughed again.
“Going?” She replied. “Dear, he’s the star.” Rain patted Cookie’s arm and winked. “And trust me, Hale’s a man who really knows how to carry his package. Must be all that courier training, hm?”
Cookie nodded. “That’s great, Mom. Excuse me. I think I’m going to go be sick now.”
“All right, dear,” her mother answered absently, turning back to the stove and the pots bubbling there. “But make sure to set the table first, won’t you?”
Cookie staggered out and found Scarlett waiting for her in the dining room. “Some help you are,” Cookie accused as she started gathering plates and silverware.
“What did you want me to do?” Her best friend replied, moving over to the sideboard and collecting napkins. “Just be thankful I talked her out of making it theater in the round.”
Cookie shook her head but couldn’t help laughing as she and Scarlett got to work preparing the table for the upcoming meal. At least, she thought, no one could ever say that my mother makes life dull. And she had to admit, a part of her was very sorry Hunter would not be participating in that particular event.
5
“So,” Hunter’s voice shook Cookie from her reverie. Dinner was over, as was dessert. All the plates had been carted off to the kitchen and cleaned and the remains of the food packaged and placed in the fridge. And now Cookie found herself sitting by a crackling fire in the living room, staring into the flames but not really seeing them, just enjoying the warmth, the satisfaction of a good meal, and a cozy room surrounded by loved ones.
Except she noticed, as she glanced up at Hunter and then past him, she wasn’t currently surrounded by anyone. At some point both her mom and Scarlett had left the living room, so it was only her and Hunter, who carefully lowered himself down onto the hearth beside her.
“So,” she echoed, meeting his warm gaze. “I gather you liked dinner. And the pie.” Hunter had certainly unabashedly eaten his fill of both.
His lips quirked into a small smile, but this time he didn’t let her deflect him. “I asked before how you were,” he reminded her softly, reaching out and gently taking her hands in his own. “You said you were fine, but I think you know what I meant.”
“Yeah,” she admitted with a sigh, refusing to look away from this beautiful, capable, clever man who had been her friend and partner and the one she’d counted on for years, and who had now made it abundantly clear that he would like to become a whole lot more. If she’d let him. The problem was she just wasn’t sure what she wanted. “I don’t know,” she said finally.
She watched a tiny furrow appear just above his nose. “You don’t know how you are,” he asked slowly, “or you don’t know who to choose?”
Because that was what this was all about. The last time Hunter had been on the island, right after Cookie had gotten shot, both Hunter and Dylan had cornered her. They’d glared at each other and made puppy-dog eyes at her, and both had told her how they felt. And then they’d asked her to choose between them.
And she couldn’t bring herself to do it, which was a problem, for sure. Cookie knew that. The thing was she liked both of them. A lot. They were so different. Hunter was brash and take-charge; Dylan was soft-spoken and strong. Hunter was slick and smooth and big city; Dylan was understated and straight-forward and small town. Two wildly different men, but both made her feel electric and alive and desirable. Both held her interest when they talked, when they ate together, when they took a walk or a drive or a boat ride. And both of them had made it clear that if she chose the other, they’d leave it at that.
So how could she walk away from either of them?
She didn’t want to lie to them, though, or choose one while still harboring feelings for the other. Her indecision wasn’t fair to either of them, she knew that, but what could she do if she didn’t yet know her own heart? She was well aware both or either of them could get sick of waiting for her at any time. It was just something she’d have to live with until she figured things out. “I said I needed some time to think about it, and it’s only been a few weeks,” she said gently. “I’m just not there, yet.” Would she ever be, though? Sometimes she wondered.
Hunter studied her for a second, but finally he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I’m not here to pressure you. I want to make sure you make the right decision for yourself, the one you’ll be happy with.” He grinned. “And, naturally, I hope that’s me.”
She snorted. “At least you’re up front about it.”
“Absolutely.” He stroked her hand in his. “Hey, here’s an idea. What if I take you out on a date some time? Give you a little preview of what you’d be getting with Bachelor Number One.” The way his eyes were practically devouring her, Cookie could guess exactly what kind of preview he’d like to offer up, and while a part of her was ready to jump all over that—and him—she forced her libido down for now.
“A date sounds nice,” she replied. “But PG-rated only, okay? For now.”
He grimaced. “You drive a hard bargain, Charlie,” he told her, reverting to the nickname he’d always used for her. “But fine.”
A sound behind them caught Cookie’s attention and she turned, only to find they were still alone in the room. Were those footsteps she’d heard? Had either Rain or Scarlett returned and then fled to give them some privacy? That didn’t make much sense, though. Rain would’ve interrupted the minute she saw that Hunter was making a move—she’d already done so several times before. And
Scarlett? She’d have plopped herself down with a bucket of popcorn and enjoyed the show, complete with inappropriate suggestions lobbed at them whenever she found the opportunity.
“Something wrong?” Hunter asked.
Cookie shook her head, deciding she’d just been imagining things.
They sat there quietly for a few minutes, not speaking, just enjoying the room and the fire and each other’s presence. It was nice, Cookie had to admit. Very nice.
Then her phone rang, startling her for the second time. She fished it out of her jeans and studied the caller ID, trying to ignore the way Hunter’s gaze raked over her as she stretched.
It was Dylan.
“Hey, hang on,” she said as she answered. She hauled herself to her feet and took a wobbly step toward the hall, her legs protesting after being folded under her for so long. “What’s up?” Dylan hadn’t been avoiding her since the night she’d been asked to make a choice, unlike the way he’d made himself so scarce for the weeks before that, but he wasn’t in the habit of calling at odd hours unless he had a specific reason. He was much too focused to just call randomly.
“Oh,” he replied, his voice as rich and warm as ever. “A little bird told me that I should call and ask you out.”
“A little bird, huh?” Cookie glanced up and spotted her mother spying on her from the kitchen. She glared, but Rain just grinned back. “What a surprise.”
“Yes, well, she seemed to think you’d agreed to go on a date with Hunter, and that I was entitled to equal air time,” Dylan said with a chuckle. “And I’m certainly happy for the excuse. So, what do you say? Want to go on a date with me?”
Even though it was only over the phone, Cookie still felt that rush of warmth she got whenever she was with Dylan. It was different from the feeling she had with Hunter, not as roaring perhaps, but steadier, more constant and enveloping. And, although she was annoyed at her mother for meddling, Rain was correct. If she was going to go on a date with Hunter, it was only fair to go on one with Dylan, too. Yeah, twist my arm, Cookie thought, even as she said, “Okay, yes. That’d be nice. Thank you.”