Contents
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE Alexandra
CHAPTER TWO Hunter
CHAPTER THREE Alexandra
CHAPTER FOUR Alexandra
CHAPTER FIVE Hunter
CHAPTER SIX Hunter
CHAPTER SEVEN Alexandra
CHAPTER EIGHT Alexandra
CHAPTER NINE Hunter
CHAPTER TEN Alexandra
CHAPTER ELEVEN Alexandra
CHAPTER TWELVE Alexandra
CHAPTER THIRTEEN Alexandra
CHAPTER FOURTEEN Hunter
CHAPTER FIFTEEN Alexandra
CHAPTER SIXTEEN Hunter
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Alexandra
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Hunter
CHAPTER NINETEEN Alexandra
CHAPTER TWENTY Hunter
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Alexandra
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Alexandra
Free Short Story!
Acknowledgements
Copyright
For Mom
For being everyone’s secret weapon.
CHAPTER ONE
Alexandra
Alexandra Blake raced to the phone, cursing herself for leaving it on the counter. She tripped over the coffee table, stubbing her toe. Her yelp drowned out the buzz of the cell phone.
Moving the furniture was a “good idea” which ended in disaster. It filled the empty space where her son Simon’s video game cabinet used to sit, but now she might miss his phone call. Maybe it wasn’t him, but a mother could hope. What time was it in Italy?
Alexandra hopped to the counter, but slumped when she saw the name on the caller ID. Her ex-husband. The man she had moved to Portland to avoid. She could let it go to voicemail.
He would call again if she didn’t pick up. She sighed, accepting the call. “What do you want, John?” Alexandra rubbed her forehead and limped back toward her bedroom.
“You don’t sound cheerful today.” His smug voice set her teeth on edge. She tried to get along with John for Simon’s sake, but it was becoming more and more difficult. Ever since Simon left, the man called twice a week. Complaining about Simon’s reluctance to talk with him. Asking if Alexandra was sure their son was attending his classes. Implying she shouldn’t have allowed Simon to spend the semester abroad.
Alexandra pressed her lips together, then turned the phone on speaker and tossed it on her four-poster bed. It landed with a quiet flump on her blue antique quilt. “What. Do. You. Want?” She yanked on a pair of jeans as she searched through the closet for a sweater. Her wardrobe hadn’t been updated in over eight months, a fact which hadn’t bothered Alexandra until now.
“Just to talk to my wife.” His tone was far too casual.
“Ex-wife,” she corrected. She fished a sweater from the pile in the back of the closet and pulled it over her head. “For three years now.”
“Simon emailed me,” he said, ignoring her. “He’s upset. He says you’re spending a lot of time with a new man. Who is he?”
Alexandra’s back stiffened as she spun to glare at the phone. She could hear his smirk, as if he knew his comment about Simon had hit its mark.
“Are you having another one of your romantic little dinner dates with him tonight?”
Her stomach clenched. Sleek, sexy Hunter Bennet, her landlord and next door neighbor, was the last person Alexandra wanted to discuss with her ex-husband. The thought of her six-foot landlord quickened her pulse. Not a good idea to tell John she was getting ready for dinner with Hunter right now.
He was dead wrong about their relationship, though. Hunter was just a friend. A hot, much younger friend who melted her insides and cooked her dinner once a week.
“My life is none of your business, John. Ex-wife, remember?” Alexandra reached for her phone to hang up. She was done letting him taunt her, especially since he was calling to attack her self confidence.
“If you hang up, you’ll regret it,” John snapped. His acidic tone froze her inches from the disconnect button.
A resigned sigh escaped as she turned into the bathroom to check her makeup. John’s threats were usually empty, but at times he was vindictive. Alexandra didn’t want more trouble. Not now, when everything was going so well for both her and Simon.
When he spoke again, his voice was smooth and cultured, the sophisticated tone she once found alluring. “He’s young for you, isn’t he? That’s confusing for Simon. He needs his father in his life, not his mother’s arm candy.”
Heat suffused Alexandra’s face. Her teeth gritted as she took deep, slow breaths until she could speak without screaming. “Simon is fifteen. He’s old enough to make his own decisions.” Her voice scraped out, barely recognizable. “And I’m not sleeping with Hunter.”
“Afraid he’ll see your scar, maybe some of those stretch marks?” He laughed.
She clenched her fists on the bathroom counter as the pitch of his voice rose.
“I’m sure you told him your sad story about why you left me. All about how your big bad husband was such a cheater. Did you tell him why I found other women? Hell, some days you wouldn’t even bother with makeup. I was even willing to spend the money so you could get a little lifting and tucking. It would have helped your self-esteem too, you know.”
Alexandra flinched away from her reflection in the mirror, away from the lackluster brown eyes and auburn hair which had disgusted John in their thirteen years of marriage. She had lost the extra weight John had hated, but it didn’t ease the hurt. She snatched up the phone.
“I was raising a son and working on my medical internship. I didn’t have time to nip and tuck myself into one of the hot bimbos you wanted.” She cursed under her breath. Why did she still feel the need to defend herself?
“Alexandra, be reasonable. You know you won’t hold his interest for long.” His voice was cajoling. “He’ll go looking for younger women with better bodies. Then what will happen? Will you drag Simon through another breakup drama? I won’t stand for it.”
He wouldn’t stand for it? The urge to fling the phone across the room made her arm twitch. Just a little flick would send it sailing through the air to hit the wall with a crunch. The imagined shattered pieces clattering onto the hardwood floor shook her from her stupor. “Goodbye, John.” She hit the end call button before her poor phone became a casualty of war.
Alexandra sank to the bed and put her head in her hands. Her failure as a wife haunted her plenty without him calling to rub it in. Ever since Simon caught his father in bed with another woman, their lives had fallen apart.
Three years of climbing out of the emotional sinkhole was enough. Every time she collected the pieces and moved forward, John threw up another roadblock. It was like he knew when they were almost recovered.
The tears which splattered her quilt seemed to come from a different person. One who still felt betrayed and alone rather than fed up with the same insults over and over. Alexandra cursed and slammed the side of her fist into her headboard. John wouldn’t ruin dinner with Hunter.
As if summoned by a thought, Hunter called through the sliding glass door of their shared balcony. “Alex? Are you okay? Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” she called back, then smacked the heel of her hand against her forehead. She had meant to tell him everything was fine, not invite him inside. Alexandra scrubbed the tears off her face with her knuckles.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the living room as he headed for the bedroom. Her breath caught as his tall, broad-shouldered frame filled the doorway.
Hunter’s lips thinned, and she winced. Did she look that bad? “Can I sit?” His voice was gentle, like he was approaching a baby bird.
She nodded, her shoulders slumping as he settled on the bed. His leg brushed against hers, sending a shock tingling through her and making
her pulse quicken.
“What’s wrong, Alex?”
“Stubbed my toe running for the phone. I should have left the furniture where it was, now my living room is an obstacle course.” God, his eyes are gorgeous. Bright blue, which contrasted with a shock of curly black hair she’d love to run her fingers through.
She gave herself a hard mental shake. He’s twenty eight. How many times had she reminded herself about their nine year age difference? Besides, she barely knew him. Despite their constant contact, Hunter had never said anything significant about himself. She didn’t even know if he had family.
His constant light flirting didn’t help. Neither did his tendency to stand so close she could feel his heat through their clothes. Except for Hunter’s disastrous attempts to teach her how to cook for herself and Simon, she had kept space between them. She had hoped the sizzling attraction would fade with time and distance.
It hadn’t.
“That explains the thumps I heard in here. Anything broken?”
“No, but if you see any mangled bits of ego, leave them where they are. They’re punished, I’ll pick them up later.”
Hunter laughed. The scent of cedar and oranges flowed around her as he stood, his chest filled her vision as he offered a hand. “I hate to rush you, but the steaks are resting. The veggies are perfectly al dente. For maximum flavor we should start eating in the next-” he checked his watch, “Seven minutes. Ready for dinner?”
Alexandra straightened her shoulders and stood without the help of his offered hand. Mistake. She was inches away from him. The light stubble on his chin rasped against her hair and sent shivers down her spine. Swallowing hard against the butterflies climbing into her throat, she looked up and found amusement in his electric blue eyes. He remained motionless. A teasing grin parted his lips and showed a flash of white teeth.
His smile was infectious. “Hey, you’re in the way,” she joked, and pushed against his chest with one fingertip. “A woman’s gotta breathe, you know.”
He stepped back, the grin on his face growing as he scrutinized Alexandra’s chest. “Your breathing seems unobstructed. In fact, if you ask me, everything is in perfect working order.” The way he stressed the word “perfect” sent a thrill skittering through her body.
“Don’t flatter me,” she told him with a smile, shaking a finger in his face.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised, stepping forward to catch her hand and peck a kiss on it like a visitor from the seventeenth century. She held her breath as he met her stare.
This is why we’re supposed to meet out on the balcony. It was one thing to be close while he fixed the bathroom drain, but when he turned all his attention on her, she could feel his closeness zinging across her skin.
“Shall we? I’ve been looking forward to this all week, and I’m so hungry I might just carry you out there and save time.”
Alexandra’s breath hitched at the thought of him scooping her up and carrying her anywhere. Something flashed in his eyes as a blush crept up her cheeks. “All right, let’s go. But no carrying.” She gave him a mock glare before following him through the living room and onto their shared balcony.
The breeze carried the rich aroma of steak and mushrooms. She took a deep breath. The sky above them and the rustle of autumn leaves dispelled the tension and intimacy of her bedroom. Her heart was still racing as he slid the glass door shut, but the distance let Alexandra regain a little control.
“Wine?” Hunter asked. He lifted a plate from the small table near the grill and settled it on the table with a practiced flourish.
She shook her head. “No, just water. I’m on call tonight. This looks great.” She admired the artistic arrangement on her plate while he poured. A little salad with blue cheese, a small filet, and a fan of grilled vegetables adorned with mushrooms combined into a pretty picture of deliciousness. Hunter had said preparing food was the only thing he missed about co-owning a restaurant.
She smiled. He probably changed the arrangement a dozen times, striving for perfection with every dish. It always amused her to watch his careful concentration. She was sorry she missed it.
Alexandra closed her eyes as she took her first bite and the flavors danced on her tongue. She looked up to find his gaze locked on her, and nodded her approval. The man was a genius in the kitchen.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said, a smile forming as he took his first bite. His low voice washed over her like liquid velvet when he added, “And thanks for coming out. I’m glad you let me take care of you tonight, at least a little bit.”
A ripple of heat ran through Alexandra at the image his words created. Her nipples tightened in response, poking through her sweater. Alexandra blushed, crossing her arms over her chest to hide the telltale bumps. Hunter was watching her with the same small smile, his dark eyes inscrutable. She took a gulp of cool water as another blush heated her face.
Pull yourself together, he didn’t mean it like that.
“I saw a new tenant moved in,” she said, clearing her throat. “Unit C, the redhead. She’s a pretty girl.” Understatement. The girl had walked straight out of a swimsuit calendar, with about the same amount of clothing. The way the bottle redhead flirted with Hunter as he helped her move in had grated on Alexandra’s nerves. “She seems to like you a lot,” she added, then regretted her sharp tone. What was wrong with her?
Hunter nodded, his eyes fixed on her face. “Maybe.” He set his wineglass down but kept his fingers curled around the bowl. “But I have my eyes on someone far more interesting.” His thumb rubbed against the glass while he studied her reaction.
He didn’t mean her. He couldn’t mean her. Maybe he meant her.
Despite Alexandra’s internal protests, a flare of nerves and excitement rose in her chest. She squirmed, inspecting the brick wall. When she snuck a glance back at him, he was staring into his wineglass.
Of course there was someone else. She looked back down at her plate, pulling herself together. Why was she upset if a man nine years younger was dating? She had no claim on him, and never had. They were friends. More like acquaintances. Just two adults sharing an occasional meal. What did it matter?
This was great news. If this new interest took up his time, Alexandra could get over these inconvenient urges.
CHAPTER TWO
Hunter
After dinner, Hunter leaned back in his chair. Alexandra had barely spoken all evening and jumped at even the smallest sounds. Now she looked everywhere but at him. She was pulling away, rebuilding those walls he hated. Normally, he would wonder if he had upset her, but only one person could put that mix of frustration, guilt and sadness in her eyes.
He wanted ten minutes in a locked room with her ex-husband.
Hunter had never met the man, but John destabilized Alex with threats and insults. Those tendencies alone described his character. A petty man who degraded others to feel good. Hunter concentrated on keeping his jaw unclenched. His anger toward John would scare her away, and so would his protectiveness.
Hunter’s nearly overpowering drive to defend her didn’t surprise him anymore. Alexandra had drawn his attention from the time she moved in, but she was as remote as a satellite. Always pleasant in conversation, but he could never break through her polite restraint or connect with the woman inside.
He’d held back for a long time, despite his growing need for her company. He recognized her look of pain and loss. It was the same feeling Hunter had experienced when his fiancée-slash-business partner left him and took the restaurant they had made famous together.
No court settlement or divorce papers could undo the damage of years spent with someone who didn’t care. Alexandra wasn’t prepared to risk rejection again, and he understood.
As time passed, she was unfailingly polite and he invented excuses to spend time with her. Usually that meant upgrades or repairs to her apartment. Alexandra’s place had more improvements than his did, and he owned the building. He was getting desperate
when he built her a new bookshelf and saw her book collection.
Her gourmet cookbooks had caught his attention. They also sparked a long conversation about his past career as a chef and part owner of a restaurant. After Alexandra admitted she only had basic cooking skills, he’d offered to teach her and Simon. It seemed perfect. She wanted to serve nutritious meals to her son, and he missed cooking.
It was a disaster.
Three flaming pans and an exploded cabbage later, Hunter had finally conceded Alex had a gift. She could make even the simplest meals fail catastrophically. Luckily, Simon didn’t share her abilities. The boy had absorbed Hunter’s lessons effortlessly. Alex had cheered her son on from her new role as cutting station mistress.
“What are you smiling about?” Alexandra looked at him out of the corner of her eye. The small smirk on her face seemed wary.
“Simon’s first cooking lesson,” he told her, leaving out her involvement. They didn’t talk about the Exploding Cabbage Event.
She smiled fondly. “I think he was so hungry, he decided it was time to learn to cook.”
Hunter held back a laugh behind a sip of wine. Poor kid. His face nearly purple, Simon had marched over to his mother, snatched the pan and asked with painful politeness for more sliced cabbage. He must have eavesdropped on the cooking lesson while playing his video game, because soon the stir fried cabbage had been sizzling. Both side dish and dessert came out perfectly as well. Ever since, Simon was family cook, with Hunter as a willing teacher.
“He did a good job at it. Hardly needed my help,” Hunter pointed out. Simon was the best student he’d ever had, and not just because his mom was hotter than a fresh egg roll. The kid was good at everything.
Alexandra had smiled at her son’s success, rather than wallowing in shame. Fear of failure didn’t slow Alexandra down. She always turned it into self improvement or complimented someone else’s achievement. That optimism and kindness had turned Hunter’s attraction into intense interest.
He’d edged closer to Alexandra for months and waited until he was sure he saw a flare of desire in her cinnamon-colored eyes. Soon, she would be ready for another try. He hoped it would be with him.
Watched Page 1