Falling for the Hometown Girl

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Falling for the Hometown Girl Page 8

by Shelli Stevens


  “Yeah.”

  “Well we can throw it in the back of my truck and I’ll drive you back. Claire’s dead asleep, but let her know where I went if she wakes up, will you, Katie?”

  Katie nodded. “Will do.”

  She watched the two of them leave, wondering how was it that his parents didn’t even notice him gone. With silence descending on the house, she turned to Hunter who’d moved to look out the window.

  “That was incredibly nice of you.”

  “Was it?” He didn’t turn around.

  “You know it was.” Folding her arms across her chest, she gave a small shake of her head. “You made him an incredible deal. Getting arrested would’ve like killed his reputation in this town.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “Is that why you didn’t want to press charges?”

  “Maybe.” He turned to face her. “And maybe because when I was watching him, I realized I wasn’t looking at some random teenager. I might as well have been looking in a mirror.”

  Katie sucked in a breath and let that sink in. “He reminds you of yourself?”

  “Yeah. I think he does.” Hunter shoved his hands into his pocket and glanced back out the window into the darkness. “He could’ve taken that laptop and ran. Gotten the info without the risk of discovery. But there’s clearly a line in the sand for him on getting in trouble. One that he doesn’t want to cross. The kid is bored. Marietta isn’t offering him the kind of stimulation he needs.”

  She would’ve never come to that conclusion on her own, but it made sense. “You could be right.”

  “Right now we have a chance to make that line shift for the better.”

  “That’s incredibly kind of you. To give him computer lessons.”

  His mouth twitched. “Programming. Teach him some basic coding. Feel out his interest in it all. I’m guessing Marietta still doesn’t have a ton of tech classes to offer.”

  “Not a whole lot,” she agreed quietly. If they had any. “Anyway, it’s late. We should get to bed.”

  “We?” He arched a brow.

  Her cheeks warmed, and she could already envision what he was suggesting. “Don’t go there. Your cabin, my room.”

  “You’re asking me to pick?” He stepped closer and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  The small intimate gesture had her pulse quickening. “Stop flirting with me.”

  “Is this classified as flirting? I’m never sure.” He smiled. “Sure I can’t convince you to stay up and talk for a bit?”

  “What about?”

  “Us.”

  Her thudding heart rang in her ears. “There is no us. It was a couple of kisses. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “What if I want it to mean something?”

  What was he saying? Her mind spun as he touched her cheek gently. Even if she hadn’t been utterly exhausted, she knew she still wouldn’t be able to think straight.

  “I need to go to bed.” Her words were husky, and she couldn’t make herself step away.

  “All right. If we don’t talk tonight, then let’s talk tomorrow morning. The guys and I don’t have anything on the schedule. Why don’t we take a walk after breakfast?”

  His words sunk in and some of the fog cleared from her head. She lifted her chin and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Hunter, I won’t be able to see you in the morning.”

  Dismay flickered in his eyes. “And why is that?”

  “I’ll be at church.” It should’ve been the end of it. She could’ve left it like that and moved on. Instead she heard herself saying, “But I’ll be back in time for lunch though. Maybe we can take that walk afterwards.”

  He finally nodded. “That’d be great. Have a good night, Katie.”

  But he didn’t move right away. Was he thinking about their kiss again? Maybe considering a repeat performance before she left? It was the only the smoldering visual in her head that had her stumbling back with a nod.

  “You too.”

  As she climbed the stairs to her room, she swore she could hear his soft laughter chasing her.

  There’d be no more putting it off. It was time to see his parents.

  Hunter pressed down on the accelerator, sending the SUV speeding down the windy road that led away from the ranch and into town.

  A lead ball of unease rested in his gut, and he knew he couldn’t put off the visit any longer. The incident with the local teen last night had amplified his guilt for staying away. He really did see himself in that kid. And while Hunter’s parents had done their best in raising him, he sure hadn’t made their lives easy. A visit from the sheriff had happened on more than one occasion—caught stealing alcohol or cigarettes—leaving Hunter’s mom in tears, and his dad livid.

  As it often did, the memory of a frigid winter’s day his senior year popped into his mind.

  His dad, always encouraging him to get into plumbing, had taken him along on a call. It was then, watching his dad run a snake down a stained toiled, that Hunter had lost it in a way only a moody teenager could.

  “I’ll never do this for a living. Maybe you’re fine handling other people’s shit, but that’s not my dream.”

  Hunter cringed, remembering the surly words he’d flung at his dad. It had been part exhaustion, hunger pains, and just a disgust for their current situation. He’d never forget the way his dad had paled, before turning bright red. Tom Richardson hadn’t said another word to Hunter that night, or for the next two weeks.

  It had always hung between them. Bitter. Festering. And ignored.

  When Hunter had left for college, his father had told him he was foolish. That he’d be in debt for the rest of his life. The whole conversation, his mom had been strangely silent. Then again, maybe it wasn’t that strange. Whenever the topic of leaving Marietta had come up, she’d gone quiet.

  So he’d left for college with that friction between them. When he’d come home to visit now and then, that resentment from his dad had always lingered. Which was why he’d stopped coming home as much, and somewhat dreaded visiting them now. Hunter knew he was a disappointment to them, and every time they were together it was just another reminder.

  While a good chunk of Marietta was in church this morning—Katie included—his parents would likely be planted in front of the TV at home. That was their usual weekend morning routine.

  The town was quiet as he drove through, with most businesses not yet open. He crossed the railroad tracks and kept driving to the poorer side of town.

  His knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel when he pulled into the driveway of the house he’d grown up in.

  A beaten down 1994 Ford confirmed that his parents were home. He shifted his gaze to the house, where the brown paint was chipped and quite a few panels of the roof had blown off over the years.

  Hunter sighed and shook his head. All the checks he’d sent home had never been cashed. The offers to fix the roof declined. Any way he’d tried to help had been rejected.

  With the dread in his stomach growing, he climbed out of the SUV and made his way to the front door. At least the small front yard showed it to be recently cut and weeded. Dad had always taken pride in mowing the lawn with his push reel mower.

  Before he could knock on the door, it swung open.

  “Hunter?”

  His mother pressed a hand to her mouth and stumbled out. The floral bathrobe she wore was worn thin and belted around her thin waist. Always a natural blonde, her hair was turning gray at the roots now.

  “I heard a car, and I looked out the window, saw you and... Oh, baby, I just can’t believe it.” Marie Richardson gripped his hand and dragged him into the house. “Come in, already.”

  Hunter stepped over the threshold and was greeted by a sight that hadn’t changed much over the last decade or so. Same furniture. Same shag rug. Same faint smell of tuna casserole and stale coffee.

  “When did you get back in town? Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?” She scurried into the ki
tchen and grabbed a mug, before filling it with coffee. “Cream and sugar?”

  Knowing his dad’s penchant for cheap, weak, store brand coffee, he knew it was going to take some doctoring.

  “Both, please. Thanks, mom.” He accepted the mug a moment later and looked around. “Where’s dad?”

  “He’s in the shower. Oh, he’s going to be so happy you’re here, Hunter.”

  Hunter gave a faint smile. “You think so?”

  His mom’s smile dimmed a bit. “Of course he will be. He loves you, no matter what kind of... disagreements you’ve had over the years.”

  “Is the roof holding up?” he asked. “No leaks during the winter?”

  “It’s fine.” Her gaze darted away. “We’ve almost got enough saved to replace it.”

  Frustration clawed at him. “I sent checks.”

  “Yes, you did. And you should know your father is too proud to cash them.” Her mouth thinned. “It’s better if you just stop with that kind of charity.”

  Hunter clenched his jaw and held back a curse. “It’s not charity when you’re my parents.”

  The sound of the shower turning off registered, and a heavy ball settled in Hunter’s stomach.

  Marie touched his arm, her gaze beseeching. “Let it go, son. We haven’t seen you in over two years, and I don’t want to spend your visit fighting.”

  Arguing wouldn’t get him very far anyway. With a slight nod, he lifted his coffee and took a sip. It was tepid and overly sweet, but it was a nice distraction while he waited for his dad to discover his arrival.

  He didn’t have to wait long.

  “About time you came home.”

  Chapter Seven

  The amused drawl had Hunter turning around. His dad stood in the living room, hair wet and a huge grin on his face.

  “Tired of Seattle, are ya?”

  Because his dad’s remark was part joke, part hopefulness, Hunter forced a grin and shrugged.

  “What can I say? Can’t compare to Marietta, right?”

  “Damn straight. Just another big city.”

  Hunter glanced at his mom and saw the twinkle of wistfulness in her eyes. She blinked and it was gone.

  “Can you stay for breakfast, Hunter?”

  Since he’d skipped the meal at the ranch, he gave a nod. “I’d like that. Thanks, Mom.”

  “Good. I was just about to make French toast and sausage. I’d call your sister over, but she’s out of town.” She moved back to the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll have it ready soon.”

  Watching her go, Hunter couldn’t help but imagine what she’d been like thirty years ago. When she’d left her life in New York to marry Tom Richardson and move to Marietta, Montana. She’d given up her career as a chemist and settled into the role of small-town housewife, who soon became a mother of two.

  Had she ever regretted giving up the city and her career for Tom? Hunter had always wondered. She’d never admitted it to him, but he’d seen the moments of sadness in her eyes. The restlessness that seemed to eat at her. And when she spoke up New York, her whole demeanor changed. She visibly lit up.

  Yet since getting married, his parents had never left Montana. Not once. Then again, they couldn’t have afforded it.

  “So, how long are you back for?” His dad sat down on the sofa and folded his hands over his small beer gut.

  “Just about a week.”

  “What brings you back?” Tom grunted. “Not going to assume it’s to see your family.”

  There it was. The not so subtle jab that he was a shitty son.

  “Bachelor party,” Hunter said mildly. “Lance is getting married in a couple of weeks.”

  “Lance?” His mom came out of the kitchen. “As in the CFO of Vendetta Interactive?”

  “That Lance, yes.”

  The same Lance who’d been his dorm mate in college.

  “I didn’t realize he was even engaged.” She wrinkled her brow. “Anyway, I’ll let you two catch up.” She smiled and disappeared back into the kitchen.

  Hunter smiled, surprised his mom had kept tabs on him and his company that much.

  Being alone with his dad had the silence between him them swelling with so many unspoken things.

  “How’s business?” Hunter finally managed.

  “Good. Steady. Can’t complain.” Tom cleared his throat. “How about you? Your company still doing good?”

  Good was downplaying it, but Hunter had never been the type to brag. “Yeah, we’re still doing good.”

  His dad nodded. “I’m glad to hear that.”

  Unwittingly, Hunter stiffened. “Are you?”

  His dad heaved a heavy sigh. “I am, son. I’m a proud bastard for not saying it before, but I really am proud of you.”

  A weight Hunter hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying lifted from his shoulders. And he knew he had the opening he’d been looking for all these years.

  “Thank you.” He shook his head. “If you’re a proud bastard, then the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I’m sorry for what I said that day when you took me out on a call....”

  He didn’t need to elaborate, both knew exactly which call and what Hunter had said.

  “Water under the bridge.” Tom grunted, but when Hunter snuck a glance at his dead, there lines between his brows had eased, a smile teased his mouth. “You were seventeen, smart as hell, and had no interest in becoming a plumber. I shouldn’t have pushed it on you.”

  “Well, at least it worked for one kid. Lindsay seems happy with following in your footsteps,” Hunter noted, thinking of his older sister.

  “She’s damn good at it too. She always loved coming along on those calls, ever since she was a kid. I should never have assumed you’d be the same.” He paused. “For that, I really do apologize.”

  Hunter nodded, unable to say much over the surprising lump in his throat. Fortunately, he was spared when his mother called them to breakfast.

  By the time they’d finished eating, Hunter knew it had to be getting late. He checked his phone.

  His dad grunted. “You probably need to get back to your friends now.”

  “I should, yeah.”

  His mom reached to clear his plate, but Hunter picked it up before she could reach it, and took it to the sink.

  “Maybe you can join us for dinner sometime this week?” she asked. “Before you head back to Seattle?”

  Seeing the hopeful look in both of their eyes, he nodded. “Yeah, I’ll make sure I do. Good to see you, Mom.”

  He gave her a big hug, before giving his dad a half-hug-pat-on-the-back type thing he knew Tom Richardson would appreciate more.

  “Hey, Hunter?”

  Hunter paused on his way out the door, glancing back at her.

  “How’s the new game doing?”

  His brows rose and he shoved his hands in his jean pockets and nodded. “It’s doing really good. Better than we expected.”

  “I’m not surprised. It’s a great game.”

  His brows shot up. “You play it?”

  “Of course.”

  As he was driving home, Hunter couldn’t stop his mom’s words from looping in his head.

  She played his game.

  It was almost too crazy to believe. His mother had not only kept tabs on his career, but she was one of Vendetta Interactive’s customers.

  Katie tightened her grip on the reins, her thighs gripping her horse as they rounded another barrel. Only after she’d completely did the course did she relax in the saddle and slow her horse to a stop.

  Her heart pounded from sheer joy and exhilaration. She loved barrel riding, almost as much as she just loved being on the back of a horse in general.

  “Good girl,” she murmured, stroking Ginger’s mane. “Keep this up, and we just may have a shot at getting another belt buckle at the rodeo this fall.”

  “You planning to compete again soon?”

  The deep voice had her glancing sharply over the fence of the arena.


  Hunter leaned against a fence post, watching her with lazy intent that made butterflies dance in her stomach.

  She turned Ginger toward the fence and made her way over. The morning fog had yet to burn off, and Hunter was dressed for the briskness.

  He looked like a mix of Seattle and Marietta. Jeans, and a plaid flannel, and one of those knit beanie hats that was kind of hipster, and should’ve made him completely unattractive to her.

  So why were her palms damp? And why did she feel lightheaded and breathless? The truth was, he was so ridiculously good-looking at this moment that she had to question if she had a type anymore.

  Whether he wore a beanie or cowboy hat, this man did things to her. She was starting to have a hard time denying it.

  “It’s been just over a year.” She tried to keep her words light as she pulled back on the reigns, stopping at the fence. “Pretty sure that arm injury is behind me. Though, I think I’m just about ready to get back into it.”

  “You should. You’re good.”

  “Thank you.” She dismounted and moved toward him, standing just on the other side of the fence. “Are you just waking up?”

  “No. Went and had breakfast with my folks.”

  “Oh.” Surprise flashed through her. “Well, good. I’m glad you ate, because you just missed lunch. Claire serves it on Sundays while I’m gone.”

  He gave a faint smile. “It’s all good. I’m not hungry.”

  “How are they? Your parents?”

  “They seem good.” He nodded, a small smile playing around his mouth.

  She nodded. His dad, from what she remembered, had been one of the local plumbers with a great reputation. His mom stayed at home raising the kids. The two tended to keep to themselves and didn’t socialize much in town. They seemed happy together though.

  “How was church?”

  “Fine. It was fine.” She nodded and then gave a quick smile. “I help out in the nursery there.”

  Surprise flickered in his gaze.

  “Not always,” she said quickly. “I trade off Sundays with another gal.”

  He folded his arms on the fence post and gave her a considering smile. “See, I wasn’t so far off when I pegged you for the preschooler teacher type.”

 

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