Hunter (HC Heroes Series Book 8)

by Donna Michaels

  It was unexpected and refreshing, kind of like the man.

  During the past four weeks since they’d agreed to some “occasional time,” as she liked to call it, they’d benefited weekly…sometimes more than once. It was usually during lunch, and always at Hunter’s cottage because of their time constraints. And whenever Dillan was at the Dalton’s for a playdate, Christa had a date of sorts with Hunter. Those times were also at Hunter’s cottage, which was fine by her since the man cooked, and it was always delicious. She considered it getting lucky twice. At the table and in bed, although, there’d been some benefits enjoyed on the table, too.

  “Well, now, I wonder what you could possibly be smiling about,” Mel said, coming out of the small animal barn at Shadow Rock Shelter.

  Christa chuckled and pointed to her son and James feeding baby goats in a pen in front of her. The babies were recently born from a momma goat who’d been pregnant when rescued. “Aren’t they adorable?”

  As if to prove her right, the boys giggled and chased after the hopping goats.

  Mel chuckled. “Yep. Absolutely. I’m surprised you’re not in there with them.”

  She snorted. “Ah, you know me too well.”

  Dillan still had another two weeks before the cast was removed from his arm, and Christa was trying not to hover over him like a mother hen. Letting him in that pen without being in there to run blocker was testing her mettle.

  “True.” Mel joined her and leaned against the fence. “That’s why I know that smile I caught on your face had nothing to do with these adorable…kids and everything to do with that hot male over there.”

  What?

  Her heart skipped a beat as she glanced in the direction her friend pointed, then it skipped a second time when she caught sight of a very familiar, lean, broad, hot male brushing a horse in the corral behind the large animal stable.

  She knew he helped out on the weekends but had never once run into him. Her pulse slammed to a halt before tripping in her chest. Should she take Dillan home? That didn’t seem fair. Kind of felt stupid too. There was no reason they couldn’t all volunteer at the same time. Besides, he wasn’t even on her son’s radar.

  Inhaling, she pulled her gaze from Hunter’s delectable muscles rippling under a navy T-shirt stretched tightly across his broad shoulders and back and returned it to her son, giggling as he ran after James who was chasing one of the goats.

  Dillan was the man in her life. Sunday was their day. So, she buried her desire to walk over and say hello to Hunter and decided to join her son in the goat pen after all.

  “Wow,” Mel said, brow raised. “You have more of a backbone than I do. Pretty sure I would’ve headed over to ride ‘em, cowboy.”

  Christa hopped the fence and after her booted feet hit the ground, she turned to her friend and snickered. “I know.” Then motioned with her head for Mel to join her. “Come on in.” She smiled. “You know you want to play with the goats as much as I do.”

  Mel snickered. “True.”

  Her friend didn’t hop the fence, though. Due to her diminutive stature, Mel walked over to the gate and opened it…and two baby goats promptly escaped with the laughing boys in hot pursuit.

  “Dillan! James! Stop,” Christa hollered, her heart in her throat as the boys continued to chase the goats charging over the field that separated the barns and led to the parking lot.

  A very busy parking lot.

  Christa had barely made it out of the pen when she saw a blue blur scoop up her son in mid stride, then James, before either boy made it halfway across the field.

  Oh, thank God.

  Christa’s heart was lodged in her throat and beating so loudly in her ears, she barely heard Mel running alongside her.

  “I’m sorry,” her friend said, placing a hand on her arm and sounding as out of breath as Christa, even though neither had gone more than a few yards. “Damn, Hunter can move. I didn’t even see him leave the corral and now he’s in front of us with the boys.”

  She nodded as she continued to rush toward her son. As soon as she reached Hunter, he handed Dillan over and she hugged her son tight.

  “Ow-w, Mommy, you’re hurting me,” he whined, trying to wriggle free.

  Forcing herself to ease her hold, she squatted down and set his feet on the ground but didn’t release him. “Is your arm okay?” she asked, glancing at his cast.

  He nodded. “Yes. ‘Cept you’re squeezin’ me.” Once again, he tried to tug out of her grasp.

  “Sorry, pal,” she said, holding tight, ignoring Hunter, Mel, and Kade, who had rushed from the stable and was having a similar conversation with James. “Not until you explain why you didn’t stop when I called you.”

  “’Cause da goats was running to da cars,” he said, his voice wavering. “I didn’t want dem squished. Dey coulda got runned over.”

  She swallowed past her hot throat and forced air into her lungs. “You, too.”

  He blinked and must’ve noticed the emotions in her eyes because he stopped fussing and hugged her. “Don’t cry, Mommy. I’m okay.”

  She hugged him back and kissed his temple. “Yes, because someone stopped you.” She brushed the wetness from her face and stood, keeping her hand on Dillan’s shoulder and was a little surprised Hunter was still there, given how he was usually uncomfortable around kids. Christa glanced down at her son. “Well? Go on, Dillan. What do you have to say?”

  Dillan looked up at Hunter and his eyes rounded and his mouth dropped open. “Mom,” he said, tugging on her arm for her to bend down and when she did, he cupped a hand over his mouth and whispered loudly in her ear, “Mom, it’s Cap’n ‘Merica.”

  She smiled and heard Mel’s snicker, but had to admit, her son wasn’t far off. Hunter was definitely super and a hero in her eyes. And she could see how the American flag on the front of his navy T-shirt had led her son to that conclusion.

  “More like Winter Soldier,” Hunter mumbled under his breath, but she caught it as she rose to her feet and her heart squeezed, understanding the analogy.

  She’d suspected he’d done some…sanctioned things and made a mental note to talk to the man about it. Later. Right now, there were still some apologies needed.

  “I’m no hero,” Hunter told the boys, who were both staring adoringly up at the guy.

  Dillan nodded. “Yes, you are. You grabbed me and James in da air.”

  “Yeah.” James nodded. “It was cool.”

  Hunter squatted down and met the boys’ gazes. “But it wasn’t cool that you both ran when you were being called and told to stop, now was it?”

  The boys glanced down at their feet and shook their heads. “No.”

  “You need to promise not to do that again,” Hunter told them.

  The boys nodded. “Promise,” they said in unison.

  “And apologize to your mom and Ms. Marlow,” Hunter added.

  “Sorry, Mom and Ms. Marlow,” both boys repeated.

  She held back a laugh and nodded down at them. “And what do you have to say to Hunter?”

  Dillan frowned. “Who’s Hunter?”

  This time she did laugh. “He is. This is Hunter Donovan.” She set her hand on Hunter’s shoulder while still looking at the boys. “The man who stopped you from running into the parking lot.”

  “Oh. Tank you, Hunter,” Dillan said, and James echoed.

  Her son frowned, glancing at the parking lot. “But what about da goats?”

  “Not to worry, D-man,” Mel said, pointing to the pen. “They’re back where they belong, safe and sound.”

  Christa finally turned to face Kade. “I’m so sorry. They were in the pen one minute then out the next.”

  She still couldn’t believe how fast the goats and boys moved. Even though she’d seen Mel try to shut them in, they’d still barreled through.

  “It was all my fault,” Mel said. “I’m the one who opened the gate. I should’ve made sure the goats and boys were further away.”

  Kade shook hi
s head and smiled. “It’s all good. Baby goats and boys are pretty quick around here.” The man picked up his son then thrust his hand out to Hunter. “Thanks. You’ve got some speed on you.”

  Hunter’s lips twitched as he shook Kade’s hand. “Just a reaction.”

  “A good one. And a fast one,” Kade said. “Thanks for helping out with the horses today, too. I know it was short notice.”

  Hunter shrugged. “No problem. Wasn’t busy.”

  “Come on, James,” Kade said, smiling at his son. “Your mom will have dinner ready soon.” He nodded to her and Mel before turning around and headed toward one of the houses in the distance.

  Dillan tugged on her arm again. “Mom, can Mr. Hunter have dinner wif us?”

  Her pulse hiccupped.

  From the start, Christa had wanted to keep those two apart. Didn’t want her son to get attached. She watched Dillan gazing at Hunter with adoration in his eyes. Christa understood it all too well.

  And she understood something else, too.

  It wasn’t just her son’s feelings she needed to worry about.

  “Good idea,” Mel said, rustling Dillan’s hair, while winking at Christa. “Speaking of dinner, I’ve got to get back inside. It’s time to feed the dogs.”

  Her friend said goodbye before disappearing around the front of the small animal barn, leaving Christa alone with her two favorite guys.

  “Can Mr. Hunter eat wif us?” her son asked again.

  She eyed Hunter, trying to gauge his thoughts, his wants, but as usual, he was the master of unreadable. Best she could do was try to give him an out and see if he took it. “Hunter might already have plans.”

  The handsome man shook his head, his dark gaze still holding hers. “Nope. No plans.”

  The thrill that leapt through Christa’s body was a lot bigger than it should be and if she were smart, she’d recognize it as hope and shoot it down. Hope could be a danger.

  It could also be a savior.

  And now it appeared as if Hunter had thrown the ball in her court. Could he really be okay with sharing a dinner with her and her son? Could she?

  Yeah, her mind immediately answered.

  It was funny how her outlook had kind of changed over the past few weeks. She was far from freaked out. In fact, she was weirdly okay with the idea of the three of them eating together.

  It was just a meal. And, after all, the guy did just possibly save her son from uncertain peril. The least she could do was feed him.

  “Well, then…” She smiled. “We’d be happy to have you over for dinner.”

  Dillan threw his arms around one of Hunter’s legs and hugged. “Yay!”

  Instead of the deer-in-the-headlights expression she’d expected from Hunter, she was shocked to see him actually smile. But when he bent down and picked up her son, her heart squeezed, and warmth spread through her chest.

  “You like tacos?” Hunter asked Dillan.

  Her son’s dimples appeared, and his smile outshined the sun. “Yes!”

  “Then, how about if I bring the stuff over and we can make some in about an hour?” Hunter asked, transferring Dillan to her arms. “I have to finish taking care of that horse.”

  She nodded. That would give her time to give Dillan a bath and straighten the house. It was currently overrun with Legos, toy dinosaurs and superhero figures.

  “Good!” Her son grabbed her face in his little hands and squished her cheeks as he stared into her eyes. “We’re gonna have tacos wif Cap’n ‘Merica!”

  She chuckled. “I heard. But I think he prefers to be called Hunter.”

  Her son nodded. “Tacos wif Cap’n Hunter.”

  Christa thought she’d actually heard Cap’n smother a laugh. But looking at the guy, she wasn’t certain. His expression was dialed to sexy cool, but his gaze did appear warm.

  After telling him their address, she watched as he returned to the horse in the corral. Going or coming, the man was fit and fine and she was in a heap of trouble if she didn’t reel in it.

  He was her friend. Her lover. And now he was about to break bread with her family. Whether they acknowledge it or not, this was a huge step to what one could almost call a relationship. She swallowed and her heart raced, and as she set her son down, grabbed his hand and walked with him to her SUV, Christa wondered if she’d just made the best decision in her life? Or biggest mistake?

  Chapter Thirteen

  The way Christa’s little boy had looked up at him like he was…well, a superhero, should’ve sent up a huge red flag. And it had, but it had also opened up a well of need in Hunter that had been welded shut.

  The need to be respected. Admired. Accepted.

  All three had been in Dillan’s eyes along with something else. He gazed up at Hunter as if he was someone good.

  And God, it had felt amazing.

  If the invitation had happened a few weeks ago, he would’ve turned the boy down. Gently, of course. Still, Hunter definitely would’ve refused.

  But over the past four weeks, he’d started to see a therapist Kade had recommended. Started to see more and more of Christa too, and being around the amazing, sweet woman always brought out the best in him.

  So, turning down the invitation today had never even crossed his mind. And after spending the past hour and a half cooking, making, and eating tacos, and watching a movie with Christa and Dillan, Hunter realized he’d smiled more today than he had in the past two years combined.

  He felt a hell of a lot better, too. Because he felt a hell of a lot more.

  More happiness. Amusement. Acceptance. Needed…content.

  He glanced down at the little boy curled on his and Christa’s laps, fast asleep as they sat on the couch in her living room and more of that contentment washed over him. And he wasn’t opposed to doing this more often, and by the way Christa leaned against him, her head on his shoulder, body relaxed, he got the impression she wouldn’t mind, either.

  Again, he knew all of these things should send him running. But the urge to be with this woman and her son was stronger than his old armor.

  The sense of home was a hell of a lure.

  And he liked her home. The house was as warm and as vibrant as the woman, with colorful pillows and throw rugs covering the wooden floors and gray furniture. The framed artwork on the walls he easily recognized as hers. She had an amazing eye and attention to detail.

  Hell…there were times he’d gotten the impression she saw way more in one glance than most others would see in an hour.

  “Think it’s safe to tuck him in bed now,” Christa whispered, smiling at him. “Be right back.”

  He set a hand on her arm when she made to take Dillan off his lap. “It’s okay. I’ll carry him.”

  Hunter told himself the offer was to help the woman out. It had nothing to do with the fact he wanted to prolong the sweet feeling of contentment that came from cradling the little boy. And when he set the sleeping toddler in the tiny bed and covered him with covers of colorful superhero dogs, Hunter understood Christa’s desire to protect Dillan.

  The child was tiny and innocent, and that same need hit Hunter swiftly and with an unexpected blow to his solar plexus. His earlier inner arguments about not being father material were just dislodged from that blow.

  If he took it slow. Didn’t rush things. Enjoyed an occasional dinner with them. Then, yeah, it was possible he might be worthy.

  A soft hand touched his arm. He turned his head to find Christa nodding toward the door. With one last glance at the slumbering child, he straightened and followed her out of the room.

  After she quietly shut the door, they walked back into the living room and began to clean up.

  “You know, you made that little boy’s year,” she said, carrying what was left of a bowl of popcorn into the kitchen and set it on the counter.

  He trailed with their empty cups and placed them in her sink. “I didn’t do anything.”

  She moved close and palmed his chest. “You are so wr
ong, Hunter. Thank you for stopping him and James this afternoon.” Sighing, she slid her arms around his back and hugged tight. “I’m such a horrible mother. First, I let Dillan break his arm, and today, I nearly let him and James—”

  “Hey,” he said, cutting her off and grasped her upper arms to gently draw her back so he could hold her gaze. “You didn’t let him break his arm. It was just an accident. So was this afternoon. Kade was right. They’re boys. Toddlers. Running is second nature.”

  She nodded but her gaze was still clouded with a self-doubt that didn’t belong there. “I know. It’s just…I try to do my best, but sometimes…it’s not good enough. And I hate that.”

  He lifted a hand and brushed a strand of hair off her face, hooking it behind her ear. “I know this is none of my business, but what about his father or his father’s family? Why aren’t they around to help you?”

  She stiffened and her gaze grew guarded. “His father’s dead,” she said, and pulled out of his arms and moved to the sink where she began to wash out their cups. “It’s like I told you. It’s just Dillan and me.”

  It was the first time she’d ever lied to him. He heard it in her tone. It had a fake quality to it but also something more.

  Fear.

  Alarm prickled down Hunter’s spine. The more he thought about it, the more things started to make sense. Her unwillingness to talk about Dillan’s father had nothing to do with disgust over a failed relationship or grief from a loss. No. What he saw—what he felt—what he knew instinctively, was that fear was what kept her quiet. Kept her from enjoying life to the fullest.

  Her lack socializing wasn’t just because she had a son, although, it did involve the boy’s lineage. He knew it to his soul.

  Christ.

  Was someone after them?

  Hunter’s gut rippled as if punched and it took him a second to work air into his lungs.

  No way in hell would he allow someone to hurt Christa or Dillan. No way.

  He was going to get to the bottom of it. Hell, he had plenty of contacts, both government and non-government, that could make inquiries. Discreet ones.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, turning around to lean her back against the counter. “You’ve been so great today. Stopping the boys. Bringing food and then cooking it. I feel bad. I should be treating you and yet, you’re here treating me like I’ve helped you.”