Waiting for Sunrise: Baytown Boys Series

by Maryann Jordan

  Pulling the truck to the side of his camper, he climbed down, his sharp eyes scanning the area. Unlocking the door, he stepped inside, his large body taking up a lot of the space, in spite of the camper’s size.

  Entering the kitchen, he moved toward the back, into the small bathroom. Many campers had bathrooms so tiny the shower took up the whole space, raining water down on the sink and toilet. He had carefully chosen one that had a separate, if minuscule, shower. Scrubbing his hand over his face and hair, he washed the sweat off his body.

  After toweling off, he stood and stared into the foggy mirror for a few minutes until his image became clearer. His mind traveled over the events of the day, focusing on the moment Belle ran into his ladder, falling at his feet. He wanted to purge the memory of her pain-filled face, but it remained. While he had done nothing to overtly hurt her, the image of his mother lying on the floor from one of his father’s rages crept in.

  Giving his head a shake, he stalked out of the small bathroom to the cabinet where he kept his clothes. Pulling on boxers and cut-off sweatpants, he rubbed at the ache in his thigh and moved to the stove to begin his dinner. Draining a can of tuna and a can of green peas, he stirred them into the pot where he had made boxed macaroni and cheese, dumping the simple meal into a bowl after it heated through. Sitting down at his table, with his food and a beer, he turned on the TV, found a sports channel and settled in for the evening.

  Two hours later, with the dish and pot washed and drying in the sink, he double-checked his door to make sure it was locked. With his size and glower, he figured most people in the area would leave him alone, but he had seen enough drug deals in the neighborhood and knew that junkies could get desperate.

  Climbing into bed, he lay on top of the sheet not wanting to run the air conditioner more than he needed to. A small fan on top of the nightstand kept the air moving over his body. He thought about his explanation to Belle concerning his living arrangements. He had been living in this camper for a couple of years, finding it to be as good a home as any. On a ship in the Navy, he never had any privacy. And going back farther than that, his childhood home certainly never gave him any peace. The camper was easy to take wherever he roamed and hoped to settle. Was that Baytown? Would he want to stay here?

  Blowing out a breath, he thought of Belle’s idea of home…One day I’ll have a real house…one with an upstairs and a downstairs…one with a front porch that’ll hold a swing and a back deck where the breeze off the bay can keep me cool.

  He placed his hand underneath his head as she continued to fill his mind. Clean, sweet, wholesome. He was surprised to learn that she had been raised in the mobile home park. Not that that was a bad thing, but her admission that it was not a good place to be when she was growing up made the person she was all the more admirable. He could imagine what the place had been like based on the back section of the current park.

  Still hating what happened to her today, he could not deny how much he enjoyed spending time alone with her. And tomorrow, I get to pick her up in the morning and take her to work.

  He stretched his long frame on his bed in his camper, lying at an angle so his feet did not hang over the edge. Flipping open the window near his head, he listened to the sounds of the residents nearby…a dog barking, a baby crying, a couple arguing. Sighing, he longed for the time when he could move his camper closer to the beach and let the sound of the waves gentle his thoughts. But, for now, he was where he needed to be.

  4

  Hunter pushed open the door to Jillian’s Coffee House and Galleria, immediately assaulted with the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee. His gaze passed over the few early morning customers sitting at the small tables enjoying their breakfast and landed on a tall woman dressed in a bright pink shirt paired with bright blue pants, standing near the counter. Her blonde hair was pulled into a long braid and, paired with her athletic beauty, it was easy to imagine her as the high school prom queen that had captured Grant’s attention many years ago.

  As he moved toward her, past dark walls with antique brass sconces, she looked up and her smile widened.

  “Hunter? How nice to see you! I don’t think you’ve ever stepped foot in my shop,” she said, turning fully toward him.

  “Fancy coffee’s not usually my thing,” he offered in explanation. Seeing her head tilt in question, he explained, “Wanted to get some coffee and breakfast stuff to take to Belle this morning.”

  If possible, her smile widened even more and he felt the heat of scrutiny passing over him. Feeling the need to continue his explanation, he said, “She had a little accident yesterday and I wanted to give her breakfast before taking her to work.”

  Before she had time to dig more information from him, the tinkling of the bell over the door rang again and two more women made their way toward the counter. Turning his head slightly, he observed Katelyn walking toward him, Tori right behind her pushing a stroller. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he sighed, knowing enough about these three to expect that they would not stop until they had all the information from him.

  “Hunter was just telling me that Belle got hurt yesterday!” Jillian exclaimed.

  Just as he suspected, both Tori and Katelyn rounded on him, immediately demanding the news.

  “She fell at work and sprained her wrist. I took her to the ER, where they checked her out. I was just getting some breakfast to take to her—”

  Katelyn, eyes wide, said, “We should take it and check on her. Let’s get some—”

  “No!” Tori all but shouted, shooting a pointed look at both Katelyn and Jillian, before glancing back into the stroller at her sleeping child. “Right now, she probably needs some peace and quiet and I think Hunter would be the perfect person to take her breakfast. After all, it was his idea. We can check in with her later.”

  Immediately agreeing, Jillian grinned as she prepared two large coffees to go while Katelyn moved behind the counter, scooping up several cheese and bacon biscuits and putting them in a bag. He fought the urge to roll his eyes heavenward. The women could not be more obvious. Not wanting to fight their assistance—he knew a lost cause when he saw one—he was glad that he was still the one who would be able to take the treats to Belle.

  Jillian waved away his money, declaring it to be her treat for an injured friend, before saying, “Let her know that we’ll be by later on to check on her.”

  He nodded and with a slight wave turned to walk out of the shop, ignoring the grins on the three women’s faces.

  “But, Mr. Weldon—”

  “No, absolutely not. The note faxed from the ER doctor said that you were not to report into work until you had been off the narcotic pain medicine for forty-eight hours. That means today and tomorrow you are not to come in.”

  Huffing, Belle, still in her light green drawstring pajama bottoms and matching camisole top, leaned back against the kitchen chair, knowing that he was right. As they said their goodbyes and she laid her phone on the table, she had to admit that it felt nice to have a day off. Her wrist ached, but not unbearably so, as long as she did not move it much. Well, at least I can get some studying done.

  A knock on the door startled her and she jumped up, hurrying to open it. Expecting Brittany, she stood in mute surprise when her eyes landed on Hunter, his Careway polo straining over his chest and arms. Dropping her gaze to his hands, she spied a cardboard tray with two coffees and a large paper bag with Jillian’s logo printed on the side.

  “Wh…what are you doing here?”

  Hunter’s heated gaze dropped from Belle’s face downward, before jumping back to her eyes. Taking in her sleep-tousled hair and figure-hugging pajamas, her hard nipples clearly evident through the thin cotton, he decided to keep his eyes on her face, hoping the cock twitch in his jeans would not be noticeable. “Brought you breakfast so you wouldn’t have to hurt your wrist in the kitchen.”

  Touched by his concern, Belle unlocked the screen door and exclaimed, “That’s so sweet. Um…please c
ome in.” As his large body moved into her house, she instinctively sucked in her stomach to let him go by, but his chest slightly rubbed against her front and she tried to ignore the tingle. She nodded toward the kitchen table and said, “You can just put it there and have a seat. I’ll be right back…I need to…uh…” Not wanting to draw more attention to her lack of clothes, she turned and hurried down the hall.

  Closing her bedroom door, she whirled around in a circle trying to decide what to put on. A thick housecoat? Too old and ratty. A nice shirt? No, that looks like I’m trying too hard. Glad to have a front-snap bra, she managed to get it on without too much difficulty. With her bra firmly harnessing her heavy breasts, she felt more decent. Finally deciding to go with ease since her wrist was wrapped, she pulled on a soft pair of yoga pants and paired it with a light blue, tunic top that settled gently over her hips. Turning toward the mirror, she was aghast that Hunter had seen her with her morning bed-head. Grabbing her brush, she pulled it through the long locks.

  She struggled to pull her hair back, finally giving up and leaving it loose about her shoulders. Realizing that he was simply being neighborly and this was not a date, she gave up on the idea of makeup.

  Stepping back into the living and kitchen area of her home, she observed that he had already placed the savory biscuits onto two saucers with forks nearby. With the lids off the steaming cups of coffee, she was greeted with the scent of Jillian’s flavored brew. Her eyes moved to Hunter’s face, seeing his slight smile directed at her. In her wildest dreams, she could never have imagined him standing in her kitchen smiling at her.

  Forcing her legs to move forward, she met his smile with one of her own, and invited him to sit. She took a bite of Jillian’s biscuit and, closing her eyes in food ecstasy, she moaned. “I can’t believe you went to Jillian’s shop for me.”

  Hunter felt her moan shoot straight to his cock, and shifted slightly in his chair. Forcing his eyes back to his breakfast, he tried to ignore the continued sounds of delight coming from her mouth.

  “I feel guilty that you went to this much trouble. I just got off the phone with Mr. Weldon and he’s not allowing me to go to work today. He says I have to be off the prescription pain medication for forty-eight hours before I’m allowed to be back with the patients.”

  Already taking a bite of the deliciously filled biscuits, he washed it down with a healthy sip of coffee. “I know,” he said. “While you were getting dressed, Mr. Weldon called me, knowing that I was supposed to be your ride today. He told me to take a day off as well so that I could make sure you were taking care of yourself.”

  Her eyes jumped to his, wide in surprise. “You’re taking a day off? You shouldn’t waste a day off for me. I’m fine…honest I am.”

  He shrugged and said, “Don’t worry about it. He told me it’d be a day off with pay.”

  “Oh,” Belle said, unable to think of another response. The idea of having him around was exciting, but also distracting. Taking another bite and chewing it slowly, she finally swallowed, saying, “I was just going to stay in today. I really need to study for my test tonight.”

  He looked over at her. “I won’t get in your way, but if you’ve got any odd jobs around your place that need to be done, I’d be glad to take care of them.”

  Her face scrunched as she tilted her head and considered his proposal. As much as she would love to have the eye candy around, she couldn’t think of anything that needed to be done. Before she had a chance to answer, another knock sounded on the door.

  “Belle?”

  Jumping from her seat, she hurried to the door, throwing it open. “Good morning, Ms. Sanders. Can I help you with something?”

  The older woman’s eyes dropped to her wrist brace and she exclaimed, “What happened to you, girl?”

  “Oh, just a little accident at work,” she explained. “I’ll be home today and maybe tomorrow. Come on in.”

  Once inside, Ms. Sanders shifted her gaze over to Hunter sitting at the table.

  Coming to his feet, he nodded his greeting.

  Ms. Sanders grinned widely. “Don’t see a lot of young men with gentlemanly behaviors around here. Nice to see you got some, boy. Your parents must ‘a raised you right.”

  Belle was smiling at him when she saw the dark cloud pass quickly through his eyes at Ms. Sanders’ comment, before it shifted away. Turning back to the older woman, she said, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

  Ms. Sanders’ smile dropped from her face, replaced with a look of irritation. “I was just hoping to use your washer to wash out a few things. Seems like my washing machine pipes are clogged again.”

  “Of course you may—”

  “Doesn’t the management take care of those things?” Hunter asked.

  “Hmph,” Ms. Sanders groused.

  Turning to him, Belle explained, “No, they only take care of the lawn maintenance and, if someone is renting a house, then they will do some work. But for those of us that own our mobile homes, all maintenance is up to us.” As she patted Ms. Sanders’ arm, she opened her mouth to extend the invitation for the older woman to use her washer again, when Hunter interrupted once more.

  “I’ll take care of it.” As both women turned to stare at him, Hunter reiterated, “Probably nothing I can’t handle, and I’ve got the day off anyway.” Taking a last sip of coffee, he moved to the sink, placing his plate and cup in her sink after rinsing it out. Walking toward the two, he said to Belle, “I’ll be back at lunch to check on you. Don’t do anything more strenuous than studying.”

  As he held the door open for Ms. Sanders to proceed through, he reached out and trailed his fingers along Belle’s shoulder, giving it a little squeeze.

  Belle stood in the doorway, her breath caught in her throat, and watched as Hunter escorted the older woman back to her home across the street. Her shoulder tingled where his fingers had touched. Finally, giving her head a slight shake, she moved back to her kitchen table, spreading her nursing books and notebooks over the surface.

  “I’ve seen you on that big, loud motorcycle.”

  Hunter shifted his large body, peering around from behind the washing machine, looking up at Ms. Sanders’ face as she hovered nearby. The older woman was of indeterminate age, but clearly still spry. She had been chattering away ever since they entered her home.

  The stacked washer and dryer were in a small closet, affording him little room to maneuver. Holding her gaze, he replied, “I hope I haven’t disturbed you when riding.” She had not given him the indication that she judged, but he knew that many people had a negative connotation of someone who rode.

  “Oh, no,” she exclaimed. “It don’t bother me. My own boy, God rest his soul, used to ride his motorcycle every chance he got. At the time, it would drive me crazy worrying about him.” She sighed, adding, “He died in the first Gulf War. Honest to God, I’d give anything to hear him ride up on his motorcycle again.”

  His face gentled as he observed the wistfulness in her expression. “I’m sorry to hear about your loss, ma’am.”

  She smiled, and said, “He’d be pleased to know another veteran, who also liked to ride, was here to see to his mom.”

  Nodding, he leaned back behind the washing machine, replacing the back panel. “I think that’ll do the trick,” he said, hauling his body up. Turning the knobs to the appliance, they listened as the water began filling the tub.

  She clapped her hands in glee, thanking him profusely. As he maneuvered the washing machine back against the wall, she hustled into the kitchen and opened her small freezer. Taking out a container, she moved toward him, holding it out. “Got some homemade lasagna. Take it over to Belle, so the two of you’ll have something to eat for lunch.”

  Hesitating, he said, “Not sure she’s expecting me for lunch.”

  Ms. Sanders stepped closer, her head leaned back as she looked up into his face. “Son, I’ve lived in this mobile home park for many years. I’ve seen good people come and go and I’v
e seen some people come that I wish would go, ‘cause they ain’t no good. I’ve known Belle since she was a little girl, and I’m telling you right now, they don’t get no better than her. I also know, she hasn’t had no one take her back. Lord knows, her waste of a momma never did. So if you’ve got any sense in you, boy, you’ll take this food over to her and share it.” Smiling, she added, “Nothing settles friendships like breaking bread together.”

  Hearing her words, they moved deep inside of him, and he nodded. “Obliged, ma’am,” he said, taking the container and turning to walk away. Her voice captured him once more as he was leaving.

  “She ain’t always had the best, but she’s worked hard to be the best.”

  With a chin lift, he left her house smiling, walking back across the street.

  5

  “I’m fine, I’m fine. Really, I’m spending the day studying because I have a test tonight.”

  Belle was on the phone, assuring Jillian that she did not need company. Jillian, Tori, Katelyn, Madelyn, and Jade had all wanted to come by and see her, but she told them that she had everything she needed.

  “Okay, if you’re sure,” Jillian replied. “By the way, I just have to ask…how was breakfast?”

  Knowing her friend was itching for details, she grinned. “Well, since the breakfast came from you, I’m sure you know it was delicious, as always.”

  “And…”

  “I suppose you’re asking about Hunter?”

  “Of course, I am! Stop beating around the bush and give me something I can tell the others!”

  Laughing, she gave in, saying, “Hunter is the one who took me to the ER yesterday and then brought me back home. I didn’t think anything about it until he showed up this morning with breakfast, which was really sweet. But, don’t read any more into it. I’m sure he’s just being neighborly.”