Smooth talking stranger

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Smooth talking stranger Page 9

by Lorraine Heath


  One night with her hadn’t been enough. Two nights had only left him wanting more. And it wasn’t because last night had gotten cut short. Although he’d certainly been disappointed. Especially now that he was getting to know her a little better.

  “I guess it would be kind of a long commute,” she said. “If you worked for me.”

  “Yeah, but the worst part would be that you’d discover that I’m not much of a handyman.”

  “Is that the reason that you haven’t hung anything on your walls?”

  “No, the reason that I haven’t hung anything is that I don’t have anything to hang.”

  “What sort of art do you like?”

  “I like pictures of naked women.”

  “Oh!” She sat up and slapped at his shoulder. “You’re teasing me now.”

  He shook his head. “Not really.”

  “How can I get to know you if you don’t tell me what you like and don’t like?”

  “What’s to know? I’ve got you figured out.”

  “You do not.”

  “Sure I do.” He pushed himself up to a sitting position. “You’re a single mother with an inquisitive son who is fairly well behaved. You had certain things you wanted to accomplish, and that required that you go into business for yourself, so you did. You’re a considerate daughter. You don’t make a habit of picking up men at bars. You’re hell in bed.”

  She got to her feet and started walking. He didn’t know if she was walking away from him, or trying to walk away from what they’d been discussing. He didn’t know if she was pleased or upset because he’d pegged her. He stood up and quickly fell into step beside her.

  “I knew everything about Steve,” she said. “Everything. I knew his family, his dreams, his favorite shows, movies, and music.” She glanced over at him.

  “I mean, I knew everything before we were ever completely intimate. With you, I feel like I’m peddling backwards, and it’s odd. We didn’t build up to anything. I feel like I should know everything there is to know about you, and I don’t know anything. Except that you’re hell in bed.”

  He grinned at her repetition. “If you only know one thing about a guy, that’s a good thing to know, don’t you think?”

  Laughing, she stopped walking and faced him. “That’s such a guy thing to say. I’ve never been a short-term type of girl. I don’t think you’re a long-term kind of guy. I don’t know what to make of us.”

  Us. He’d never been an “us” before, and he hadn’t come out here expecting to end up in that category. Two little letters, placed side by side, creating such immense expectations. He didn’t quite know what to do about them, about her.

  But when she looked at him as she was now—with trusting eyes filled with so much warmth, humor, and kindness—he almost believed that he could leave his solitary life behind. That maybe he could let her hang curtains on his windows, nail pictures to his walls. That he could possess a photograph in which he wasn’t the only person reflected in a glossy image.

  She opened up possibilities that he’d long ago closed the door on. She made him want—

  “Mom?”

  Hunter was crouched, his arm half an inch from knocking the kid into the next county before he even realized he’d moved.

  Serena responded almost as quickly, snatching her startled son back, folding her arms across his bony chest, surprise evident in her eyes, alarm reflected in the kid’s. Both were fairly gasping, as though Hunter’s actions had sucked the air right out of them.

  He slowly unfolded his body to his full height, held out his hands in as nonthreatening a pose as possible, and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear him approach.”

  Hell, he hadn’t heard him. How could he not have heard a kid get that close? Children weren’t prone to stealth or silence—even when they were trying to be quiet. This kid even had a damned dog hovering at his ankles. How had Hunter not even heard the dog?

  He’d been distracted, unfocused—no, he’d been focused. But he’d been focused on her, on the possibilities. Not on his surroundings, not on the dangers—

  The dangers? He was on a damned picnic. The only danger he faced would come from an anthill. He’d been too long searching for the enemy. Trying to keep his country safe until he, himself, was no longer safe. He took another step back. “I should go.”

  The kid broke free of his mother’s hold and when she reached for him again, he eluded her as easily as the wind.

  “Do you know karate?” the kid asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet, hopping around like a hyper-active boxer in the ring. “It looked like you were gonna karate-chop me.”

  Making grunting noises, he cut his hands through the air. “Were you? Were you going to karate-chop me?”

  “You took me by surprise—”

  “But you know karate? Right?”

  “I know some self-defense moves, yeah.”

  “Can you teach me?” The boy tentatively moved closer, eagerness in his voice, interest in his blue eyes.

  Hunter wasn’t much into hero worship, but he couldn’t understand why he desperately didn’t want to disappoint this kid. He shifted his gaze to Serena. Her inviting warmth was gone. Now her eyes held wariness, concern. Could she trust him? Even he no longer knew the answer to that question.

  He knew he should leave, but he couldn’t quite force himself to take another step back. He wanted to repair the damage, and he wasn’t exactly certain how to do that. His father hadn’t been a model parent. “I could show you a couple of moves. But it’s up to your mom.”

  The boy turned to her, his small hands clasping her arm. “Please, Mom? It’d be awesome. Jason won’t believe it when I tell him. Please.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think we should impose on Fletcher.”

  “Ah, Mom—”

  “We’ve been out here a long time, Riker. We need to get back to Grandpa.”

  “Ah, Mom, I know you’re worried, but I won’t get hurt.” He snapped his head around to look at Hunter. “Tell her I’ll be safe.”

  He wondered how often the kid had to convince his mom to let him do things. “He won’t get hurt.”

  “There, Mom, see?” He started jumping up and down as though if he could just be at eye-level with her, he could convince her more easily. “Please?”

  “All right,” she said, nodding jerkily. “Put your fishing equipment away first.”

  “Cool!” The kid pointed his finger at Hunter. “Don’t move an inch. I’ll be right back.” He raced toward the pond, the dog pouncing along behind him.

  Serena folded her arms across her chest. “You were going to hit him.”

  “But I didn’t.” Which he considered to be one of the lamest answers he’d ever given.

  “Where did you learn karate?”

  It wasn’t karate exactly, but he didn’t think she was particularly interested in the details of his actions. “I told you I was in the army a while back. Special Forces.”

  “But you’re not in the army now.”

  “No.”

  She seemed relieved. “Steve was in the army. He was killed on a mission that the government won’t talk about.”

  Well, that information confirmed his suspicions regarding the identity of her husband.

  “I couldn’t go through that again,” she said, before she smiled hesitantly. “The worry. The not knowing. I’m glad you’re not in the army anymore.”

  And he had a feeling she was telling him that if he was, this picnic would be their last. A little voice inside him urged him to come clean, but he’d been groomed to hold everything confidential. A need-to-know basis only.

  As much as he was coming to like Serena, he wasn’t authorized to disclose any information about himself. It was a part of his life, his profession that he’d come to accept. So he told her only what he could. “I’m glad, too.”

  Special Forces.

  Serena wasn’t surprised to learn that Hunter had been part of the army’s elite group. Sh
e’d suspected he had some special military training after watching him handle the drunk last night.

  When he’d turned on Riker, his eyes had clearly indicated that it had been with intent to harm. His reactions were quick, his reflexes quicker, because he’d reacted instantaneously, but he’d also stopped before anyone was hurt. Once her pounding heart had slowed to normal and she’d been able to begin thinking clearly again, she knew that Riker had never been in any real danger.

  She stood with her back against the tree and one boot heel hooked over a bit of peeling bark, watching as Hunter spoke to Riker. He showed more patience than she’d expected him to. He crouched so they were closer to eye level whenever he wanted to speak with Riker. Although she couldn’t hear the words, his deep voice was an audible rumble. She was hit with an incredible longing for all the moments when Riker hadn’t had a father’s devotion.

  He had Jack in his life—but never only Jack. When Jack gave attention to Riker, he was also giving attention to Jason. The same applied when she gave attention to Jason: she was also giving it to Riker—so Jason never had a mother only. At least not until Jack had married Kelley.

  Now the Morgans were a family. And Serena and Riker were back to having only each other.

  Of course, Riker had his grandfather’s devotion. But that wasn’t the same as a father’s.

  Riker needed a man in his life, a father figure, who was his and his alone. And she was beginning to realize that she wanted a husband again. She missed the giving part of marriage as much as the receiving part. Having someone who needed her as much as she did him.

  She didn’t know why all these thoughts were suddenly blooming like bluebonnets in spring. She hadn’t invited Hunter out here because she’d been considering him for the long-term. She just wanted to get to know him better so she wouldn’t feel so guilty if she slept with him again. And she did want to sleep with him again. She wanted to discover if he was as good as her memory of him had built him up to be.

  She had a feeling he was better.

  She watched as he demonstrated some moves that seemed more like well-choreographed dance steps instead of martial arts techniques. Slow, fluid stretches, bunched muscles. A move to the side. A rapid kick. Good Lord, Hunter was flexible, controlled, and limber. She hadn’t expected him to be so limber. She had visions of him demonstrating these moves in the bedroom. Wrapping himself around her, his muscles tightening.

  She never found herself getting all hot and bothered when she watched a Jackie Chan movie with the boys. But then Hunter wasn’t Jackie Chan.

  He was a long drink of water on a hot afternoon. A wall of hard muscle…

  Suddenly Riker was running over to her. “Did you see me, Mom, did you see me?”

  “I was watching.” Watching Hunter much more than she’d been watching Riker, but she didn’t need to confess that little fact.

  Riker kicked his leg out to the side, then did two quick punches in front of him. “Wait until I show Jason.” He took a step, released two more quick punches. “Awesome.”

  She didn’t know what he considered to be so awesome. Had to be a guy thing. Riker was skipping, hopping, jumping and twisting in the air, doing things that she knew Hunter hadn’t shown him.

  Hunter approached, and even with his hands buried in the front pockets of his jeans, he walked with confidence, his strides long and sure. She wanted to draw him up against herself, slide her arms around him, and slip her hands into his back pockets. She wanted to kiss him. But she’d never kissed a man in front of Riker, didn’t know how her son would react.

  “You’re his new hero,” she said.

  He looked uncomfortable with her assessment, shifted his gaze over to Riker. “He’s a quick study.”

  “I have to confess that those actions he’s demonstrating look like something from the movies to me,” she said.

  He shrugged, a corner of his mouth hitching up into a grin. “I tried to show him something a bit more useful as a defense strategy but he wanted quick and flashy.”

  “He’s wanted to take karate for a while, but there aren’t any schools in Hopeful. I appreciate you giving him some of your time.”

  “It was the least that I could do after scaring you.”

  “You didn’t scare me. You startled me. I’ve never seen anyone move that quickly.”

  “You were no slouch in the fast-moving department.”

  “A mother’s instincts.”

  She glanced around. It would be a while before darkness settled in, but evening would soon be approaching, bringing on one of the sunsets she so enjoyed watching. “We should probably head back in before my dad sends out a posse.”

  Chapter 10

  Considering the fact that her father was standing on the front porch with his arms crossed over his chest when they arrived, Serena was fairly certain that her earlier joke about him sending out a posse wasn’t far from the truth. Maybe she’d inherited her overprotective streak from him rather than her mother as she’d often suspected. She was surprised that he didn’t follow them into the barn to assist with unsaddling the horses.

  “Can I show Grandpa my karate moves?” Riker asked, as soon as he’d dismounted.

  “When you’ve finished seeing to your horse,” Serena said.

  “Ah, Mom!”

  “Riker, if you want the joy of riding you have to accept the responsibility—”

  “I know, I know, I know.”

  He led his horse into the appropriate stall. She looked over at Hunter. “Do you know what to do?”

  “Yeah, but I’ll take care of your saddle. I’ll see to your horse as well if there’s something you need to be doing—like telling your father that he can lock his guns back up.”

  “It’s insane, isn’t it? You move away from home, you live your own life, take care of your own business…but the second you come home, you’re a child again, living under their roof, with a curfew, and a hundred questions to be answered anytime you walk out the door. No matter how old you get, they’re always wanting to be parents, seeming not to realize that you manage quite well on your own when they aren’t around. Do you find it to be that way when you go home?”

  An emotion jumped into his eyes that she couldn’t quite identify—longing, loss, remorse. It disappeared with a single blink.

  “The only ones who chatter at me are the squirrels out at the lake.”

  “What about your parents?”

  “Long gone.” He edged past her and began to remove her saddle.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

  “Nothing to be sorry for.” He hoisted the saddle and dropped it over the railing separating the two stalls.

  “How did they die?”

  “It’s a long story. Leave it at that.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, not really wanting to leave it at that, but deciding she had no choice except to respect his request.

  “Mom, I’m done. Can I go show Grandpa my karate moves now?” Riker asked.

  She’d almost forgotten he was still in the barn, was grateful that Hunter hadn’t reacted as he had before. She nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “Yeehaw!”

  He raced out of the barn, stirring up the dust motes.

  “Where would I find some oats for the horses?” Hunter asked.

  She pointed behind her. “There’s a room at the back of the barn.”

  He started to walk past her…stopped. His profile was to her, and she could see the muscle in his jaw clenching and unclenching.

  “I wouldn’t hurt your son.” He shifted his gaze over to her. “Ever.”

  “I know. I also know that I’m overprotective, but nothing in my life is more important than Riker. If you don’t have children then you probably can’t understand…” She didn’t know how to explain. “You’d lay down your life for them without hesitation, you’d do anything to protect them. When they’re sick, you feel bad. You simply want them to be happy. And you want nothing—and I mean nothing—to hurt them
—emotionally or physically.”

  “Not in my family. My old man was a drunk. When he was feeling generous, he beat me. When he wasn’t, he locked me in the closet.”

  Horror swept through her as realization dawned. “Is that the reason you don’t want curtains on your windows?”

  He shifted his gaze over to her. “Maybe. I don’t like feeling closed in. Don’t look so sad, Serena. Things weren’t all that bad. When I was eight, I started the foster home circuit.”

  She didn’t know what to say, had a feeling he was making light of his tragedy and that things had in fact not only been all that bad, but much worse. She ached for him, ached for what he must have endured. And where was his mother during all this time, why hadn’t she protected him?

  Shaking his head, he looked away. “I can’t believe I told you that. I’ve never told anyone.”

  He took a step away from her. Reaching out, she wrapped her hand around his arm. He stilled. She didn’t know why he’d shared that small part of his past with her, but she wanted him to know that his trust was well placed.

  She moved in front of him, touched her palm to his cheek, raised up on her toes, and pressed her lips to his. His arms came around her, and he crushed her against his hard body, one hand holding her in place while the other became entangled in her hair, angling her head while his mouth slashed across hers as he deepened the kiss.

  He was hot and hungry, quiet and mysterious.

  “Mom? Mom? Mom!”

  She pulled back, dizzy and weak, disoriented. Lord help her, this man could turn her into mush before she knew what was happening. She blinked hard, trying to focus. “Riker?”

  “Grandpa said he’s supposed to stay for supper.” He pointed toward Hunter as though he’d discovered an unwelcome critter in the stall.

  Serena nodded. “Okay.”

  Riker walked up to her and tugged on her hand. “I’ll help you with your horse.”

  That was a first, a little possessiveness on his part. She looked over her shoulder at Hunter. “You’ll stay for supper?”

 

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