She sniffed the grinds. A little stale but they’d suffice for one morning. She definitely would see about going to the local market for fresh beans tomorrow, though.
When she finished checking the locks on all the doors, Brianna climbed the stairs and made her way to the master bedroom.
“Are you one of those people with a side-of-the-bed preference?”
She stopped short and snapped her gaze to the bed. Hunter sat on the edge of the mattress wearing his boxer briefs, no shirt and a come-hither smile.
“What...what are you doing?” she asked, her gaze locked on his broad chest and muscle-sculpted arms.
“You said for me to take whichever room I’d feel most comfortable in, and...” He waved a hand around the room. “I’ll feel best staying close to you.” His dark blue eyes twinkled. “The closer the better.”
A warm flush swept through her. She’d like nothing better herself. She found Hunter oh-so-sexy. But...
“You’re forgetting the doctor forbid me to have sex for six weeks. It’s only been three.”
“I’m forgetting nothing. I promise not to ravish you, tempting as you are.” He cocked his head and narrowed one eye in speculation. “I’ll go to a guest room if you want me to. I was looking forward to holding you, though.”
She drew a tremulous breath. She’d like nothing more than to have Hunter’s arms around her while she slept. He calmed her, centered her, made her feel as if there was hope she’d survive this tangled mess with Meridanian politics and have a normal life again. A happy, fulfilled life with her son...and maybe a man. This man. This gentle, protective, strong, good-to-the-marrow man.
She took a deep breath and nodded. She might not be able to give him the intimacy they both craved or certainty about the future she wanted to promise him, but she had this night. This moment. And she wouldn’t waste it.
He flipped back a corner of the covers, and she slid between the crisp, cool sheets. After snapping off the bedside lamp, he snuggled close to her. His body heat quickly chased away the chill, both external and deep in her core. As she laid a hand on his chest and closed her eyes, her soul gave a satisfied sigh.
This man, an internal voice whispered to her.
“What did Grant say when you called earlier?” he asked.
She angled her head to see his face in the dim light seeping through the window. “All was well.”
“No signs of trouble?”
“You mean from the men who burned my house?”
Hunter gave an affirmative hum.
“He didn’t mention anything.”
“And Ben?”
“Ben is napping for him, only crying a little, taking the bottles of breast milk I left.” An awkward prickle skittered through her, and she remembered her almost overshare from earlier. She had no reason to be embarrassed about her breast feeding or anything related to it, but she didn’t want Hunter’s primary thoughts of her breasts to be in their motherly feeding capacity. She wanted him to see a desirable woman. A sexy figure.
She snorted. Not likely in the next few weeks, until she lost some of her postdelivery sag and roll. She loved being Ben’s mother, but carrying him had stretched and reshaped her body in ways she’d never have imagined.
“What was that little grunt about?”
“Nothing. Just a private reality check.”
He rolled onto his side to face her, his hand sliding along her hip to her waist. Brianna tightened her taxed stomach muscles as best she could, self-conscious over the weight she still carried.
“Keeping secrets? Already?” he teased.
“I...” She ducked her head and chuckled. “No, I just...was wishing I had my pre-baby body back. I was realizing how far I have to go and the hours at the gym ahead of me.”
“Cut yourself some slack. It’s only been three weeks. And for what it’s worth, I think you—”
She raised a hand to his mouth, silencing him. “Please. No empty compliments to make me feel better about my baby body.”
He kissed her fingers, then took her wrist gently and tugged her hand away. “Not empty at all. In fact...”
His fingers sank into the tumble of her hair, and he cradled the back of her head as he lowered his lips to hers. The heat that had flowed through her earlier returned with a vengeance, swamping her senses and melting her bones. She sagged against him, wanting to meld with him, fill herself with the sweet sensations he stirred at her core. With a tingle, her nipples tightened, and she curled her fingers against his back.
“I think you’re beautiful, Bri,” he whispered as he trailed kisses along her chin and the curve of her throat. “Inside and out.”
“Hunter...” His name was a sigh, a plea. She arched her neck, giving him access to the tender pulse points just above her collarbone and down the valley between her breasts. His dark hair brushed her hypersensitive skin, sending a current of heady sensation through her.
She stroked a bare foot along his calf, winding her leg around him, then sliding her thigh against his hip. He rolled her to her back, covering her with his body, and she felt the proof of his arousal nudge her belly.
“We can’t...” she reminded him, her own regret a deep pang, even as she gripped his buttocks and clung to him.
“I know.” His disappointment hung heavy in his tone. “But your doctor’s orders are the only thing stopping me from making love to you right now.” Capturing her lips again, he echoed his words by stroking his hands sensuously along her body, pausing to mold her breasts with his fingers, then squeezing her bottom and drawing her more firmly against his erection.
Brianna moved both hands to frame Hunter’s face. “I want that, too. If things were different, if I could...”
She plowed her fingers into his hair and raised her mouth to his, finishing her sentence with a demonstration of her feelings for him. She poured everything she felt for him into her kiss, drawing hard on his lips. Hot, deep and full of promise.
This man, her soul whispered again, and a viselike pressure grabbed her heart.
Hunter pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. “You’re worth the wait, Bri. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
She lowered her gaze, feeling a blush heat her cheeks. “Thank you. I’m just...impatient. I feel like so many things in my life are on hold. Because of my memory loss, because I can’t find Chris, because I have to wait for my concussion, my body to heal.” She huffed in exasperation.
He caressed her cheek with his thumb. “I know you’re frustrated. I wish I could tell you things would be different soon, but you are getting a little of your memory back every day. We’ll figure things out as they come. As far as the rest of it...no rush. After Darby had Savannah, it took her almost a full year to get back to her pre-baby weight. Her theory was that it took nine months to gain the weight, so nine to twelve months to take it off wasn’t a bad thing.”
His mention of Darby caused a funny tickle in her gut. “She had a point.” Brianna bit her bottom lip, weighing the wisdom of raising a sticky issue with him. “You, um...talk about Darby a lot.” Was she being silly worrying, especially since she had no claim on Hunter herself?
“Do I?” He threaded a finger through the hair on her forehead.
“It seems that way to me.”
He lifted a shoulder. “She’s my sister-in-law. And she’s been one of my best friends since college.”
“I know. But you also proposed to her. I was just wondering if—”
He barked a laugh and nudged her chin up. “Are you jealous of her? Are you worried I’m in love with her?”
She flattened her hand against his chest, feeling a little ridiculous for having broached the topic. But she’d stuck her foot in it now, so she plowed forward. “I know you say you don’t love her, but she’s clearly on your mind a lot, whic
h would indicate...” She let her voice trail off, not sure how she wanted to word her statement.
What was she suggesting? Why did she care so much? Darby was married to Hunter’s brother and living in Witness Security. Hunter might never see his sister-in-law again. So why was she pushing the issue?
She peeked up at Hunter awkwardly, and he was smiling at her. He kissed her nose and said firmly, “I’m not in love with Darby.”
Nodding, she took a cleansing breath, prepared to let the issue drop. She’d revealed too much as it was about her own feelings by even raising the question.
But as Hunter shifted off of her to lie on his back, he added, “There was a time I think I might have believed I was in love with her, before she started dating Connor.”
Brianna tipped her head toward him, hearing an unspoken sadness or disappointment in his tone. “It must have hurt when she fell for your brother over you.”
He folded one arm behind his head and drew her closer with the hand at her waist. “That’s the thing. It didn’t hurt in the way you might think. That’s how I know it wasn’t really love I felt for her. Not romantic love anyway. I loved her as a friend. Still do. But...”
When he hesitated several seconds, she propped herself up on an elbow to gaze down at him. “But what?”
“Oh, it’s stupid. Petty really.”
“Now who’s keeping secrets?” She grinned and traced the line of his jaw with her knuckle, enjoying the scratchy rasp of his five-o’clock shadow.
His mouth twisted into a wry moue. “Okay. Here it is. Don’t judge me. Being the youngest of the family, I’ve always felt on some level Grant and Connor got the best of everything and I got the leftovers. The hand-me-downs. Mostly that was a big deal when I was a kid, and it made me competitive with them in a lot of ways. Typical sibling-rivalry stuff. But when Darby and Connor became an item, I felt a little like...well, like he took her from me. She didn’t have as much time for me anymore and, while I was happy that they were happy, I felt...dismissed. Rejected.”
“I can see that. Especially if you had a little crush on her.”
“Then when I proposed and she turned me down, my reaction was...complicated.”
He slid his hand up her back to tease the hair at her nape, and Brianna felt a tingle race through her. When he shifted his body to angle a look at her, his bare leg brushed hers and the crinkly hairs on his thighs tickled her, making her hyperaware of how snugly he held her against him.
She took a slow breath through her nose, trying to squelch the erotic sensations tempting her and focus on what Hunter was telling her. “Complicated how?”
“Well, I really thought she’d accept, so I was surprised she said no to start with. And because I thought us getting married when she learned she was pregnant was what was best for her, I was a little...frustrated.”
“She thought Connor had died at the time, right?” she asked, trying to keep facts straight.
“Yeah. It was a tough time. We thought Connor was dead, then Darby learned she was pregnant. I thought she needed me, thought marrying her would fill the void of Connor’s absence.” He flashed her a sheepish grin. “I think knowing she didn’t need me stung my male pride a bit.”
Again, an uneasiness squirmed low in Brianna’s gut. Was Connor with her just because she made his male ego feel useful and fill a void? Was his loyalty to her based on a sense of her neediness?
“And while her reasons for turning me down made sense—she loved my brother, not me, and she wanted me to be able to marry someone I truly loved—I still had moments of...I don’t know...call it ‘little-brother syndrome.’ I still felt like I had lost out to my brother. Stupid and small-minded, I know, but it bothered me. I’d kinda warmed to the idea of being her husband by the time I proposed. We made a good team, and I thought we could make it work. So her ‘no’ was disappointing. Like I said, complicated. It was a lot of things, feelings and circumstances I’d rather not repeat.”
Brianna closed her eyes, her conscience screaming. Her life was nothing if not complicated. She had no right to entertain any ideas about getting involved with Hunter. She could give him only more confusion and disappointment. Regardless of what she wanted, the fact was she was tangled up with the royal family of Meridan and all the political intrigue and danger that went with that relationship. In order to avoid hurting Hunter, she needed to make her position clear now. Continuing this way, leading him to think there was any chance of a future for them, was doing him a disservice. The pain that assailed her heart in the wake of that decision took her breath away. She hadn’t realized just how much she had been hoping to make a life with Hunter, a life that it seemed would never be.
Her heart aching and her thoughts in turmoil, she snuggled close to Hunter’s warmth and eventually fell into a fitful sleep with dreams of state troopers, lost friends and empty years.
* * ** * *
The next morning, Brianna woke to the smell of fresh coffee and the chill of an empty pillow next to her. “Hunter?”
She heard noises downstairs and tossed back the covers to swing her feet out of the bed. She turned to make the bed before she joined Hunter, and as she was tucking in the sheets, she felt something hard beneath the mattress. Curious, she wiggled her hand farther between the mattress and box springs and withdrew a small book. She cracked it open and read the handwritten words on the first page—“Dear thirty-year-old me...”
She chuckled as a wave of familiarity and remembrance flowed through her. Her childhood diary. She fanned the pages, written in all shades of neon ink, and caught glimpses of phrases such as “best night of my life,” “swimming tourney tomorrow” and “sooooo awesome!”
Grinning, she headed downstairs with her find and found Hunter in the living room cradling a cup of coffee and studying a family portrait. “Morning.”
“Morning, Breezy.” He flashed her his trademark heart-stopping smile, and her pulse ramped up.
She grunted playfully at his use of her nickname and waved the diary at him. “Look what I found.”
He arched an eyebrow in query. “A book?”
“My diary.”
“Oh, yeah?” Setting his mug aside, he stepped closer and snatched the journal from her.
“Hey!” She swatted at him. “Give that back! A girl’s diary is private.”
“‘Dear thirty-year-old me, I kissed Ronnie Nash at the bonfire tonight. Squeal! He is sooooo hot!’”
He chuckled, and she grabbed the diary back and mock-growled at him. “I was thirteen. Give me a break.”
He tugged his mouth into a devilish grin. “Kissing boys at thirteen? You got an early start.”
Lifting her nose with an indignant sniff, she tucked the book under her arm and strolled into the kitchen for coffee. “You’re going to tell me you weren’t kissing girls at thirteen?”
He shrugged. “Maybe I was, maybe not.” He took a seat at a stool behind the bar dividing the kitchen from the living room. “So why the ‘Dear thirty-year-old me’ bit instead of ‘Dear diary’?”
She ruminated on his question as she sipped her coffee. She saw herself as a preteen, the covers over her head, flashlight in her teeth as she wrote in her journal at night. “I think I considered my diary an account of my life, my hopes and accomplishments for when I grew old. To me being thirty was old.” She shook her head, grinning. “Now that I’m staring down thirty in the next couple of years, it doesn’t seem so old.”
Hunter shot her a teasing look. “Was kissing Ronnie Nash one of your accomplishments?”
“When I was thirteen, it was!”
He nodded to the book under her arm. “What else does it say?”
She carried her mug toward the living room. “None of your business.”
Hunter chortled and dug the car keys from his pocket. “Fine. You read up on your tee
nage angst, and I’ll go buy us something sweet and artery clogging from that place on the corner for breakfast.”
He kissed her temple as he headed out the door, locking it behind him, and warmth and affection spread through her. Remembering the seductive pull of Hunter’s lips on hers last night, she’d wager Ronnie Nash had nothing on the man in her life now.
Sitting cross-legged on the couch, her mug in her hands and the diary on her lap, Brianna lost herself in the pages of her youthful writing. She smiled at entries about her adventures with Helen, groaned at her preteen hyperbole and teared up over accounts of time spent with her parents. Page after page, the events came to life, and images of that happy time in her life paraded through her head in full color, alive with sounds and scents. At one point, the book slipped as she was turning a stiff page where she’d glued an old snapshot, and as she straightened the tome on her lap, it fell open to a page at the back. The handwriting here was more mature, and Brianna set her mug aside, a curious knit in her brow.
“Dear teenage me,” the entry started, “I’m twenty-six now, and my life has taken so many turns since I started this journal. Mom and Dad are gone. Helen’s married and living overseas. I’ve earned my master’s degree in biology and have a great job doing research for Bancroft Industries. The only thing missing is someone to share my life with. Miriam says I just need to be patient. He’s out there and when the time is right, I’ll find him. Sometimes waiting for what you want is hard. Guess I’ll just focus on my career for now.”
Brianna pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Her twenty-six-year-old self had sounded so lonely. The entry was evidence of the empty yearning she remembered when flashes of her late-teen years came back to her.
She turned the page and found similar entries, and then, “Dear teenage me, I met someone. His name is Chris Hamill, and he’s wonderful and handsome and funny and intelligent and kind and romantic and has the sexiest accent! He’s the one I’ve been waiting for. I know he is. I’ve only known him about six weeks, but I’m already in love. Yes, love. I love him, and he says he loves me, too. I can see myself spending my life with him and raising a family with him. He hasn’t asked me to marry him...yet. :-) But I think he will.”
Protecting Her Royal Baby Page 18