by Sue MacKay
Don’t leave too much scent in the air. I have to live here after you’ve gone.
‘Does your stepmum still own the house?’
‘No. When Dad went into full-time care I bought it off them. Mum sold their other house at the same time to buy the apartment, so she didn’t have to worry about lawns and maintenance. It also meant there was money for Dad’s expenses.’ Topped up by her and her sisters so that Mum never needed to count the cents.
Hunter had no compunction about following her indoors but hesitated in the kitchen to look around. He seemed disappointed.
‘Hunter?’
He swallowed. ‘Nothing.’
Oh, yes, there was. She stared at him, trying to fathom what was causing that tight look in his face. ‘What were you expecting?’
He shrugged. ‘You’re quite the interior decorator, aren’t you?’ Did he have to make it sound like a fault?
‘It’s paint and fabrics mostly, with tiles replacing the hideous old carpet.’ Bi-folds instead of sliding glass doors, stone benches to replace the old, chipped laminate ones. ‘You don’t like it?’
‘I haven’t seen enough to know.’
Got it. He’d been expecting everything to be the same as it had been when they’d lived here, renting it off her parents. Before he’d left and she’d bought it. Because—Because he was stepping back in time to when they’d been in love and had had plans of one day buying this place together.
Reality shocked him, brought it home that she had moved on, was living life, not waiting for it to tick past, not sitting in a holding pattern in case the day came when he returned to her. Was this why he’d insisted in coming to her doorstep—not to check she’d be safe? No, there had been genuine concern reflected in his eyes, but obviously there’d been more going on behind that. Might as well get the elephant out of the way.
She tried for a shrug, got it half-right. ‘Take a look around.’ Really see my home as it is, not was.
Woof, woof. There was no getting away with not feeding Poppy right away. ‘Come on, girl. Bring your bowl.’ She walked away, leaving Hunter to his musings. Whatever they were. Did he actually think there was a chance of them getting together again? Truly? Would she have to be blunt and spell it out for him even before he said anything to indicate he might? Like...‘I am not getting back with you. I’m not sure if I ever want to try another relationship. The pain when they go wrong is horrendous.’
Anyway, Dylan meant she had no place in Hunter’s life. Sure, Dylan had to come first, always. She got that, would be upset if he didn’t. But Hunter had shown he was incapable of blending all aspects of his life so that everyone had a place with him and weren’t put aside for someone else. Hunter made choices between everything, everyone.
While Poppy guzzled down chicken-and-rice-flavoured dry food, Brenna put the kettle on to make tea. Wine would be better but then she’d have to offer Hunter one and she really needed him gone. She mightn’t want him to leave—damn, she really didn’t know what she wanted—but for sanity’s sake it would be best if he headed away because there were already vibes making her body pulse and had her watching him out of the corner of her eye as he stood in the middle of her sitting room, staring around. Vibes that could do with a cold shower.
To hell with it. The fridge door swung back against the wall. Snatching the open bottle of wine, she slammed the door shut again and reached for two glasses in the cupboard above. Wine sloshed as she tipped it into them. ‘Here, welcome back to Vancouver.’ She shoved one glass at Hunter.
Damn the man to hell and back for returning, for walking into her life like nothing had gone wrong between them, like they could start over, like she wanted to see him and remember all those steamy sessions—some of which had happened in this house—like she needed to be aware of him and learn what his goals were and how he’d been married and now had a child, and that there was no future for them because she was afraid of being rejected again. She gulped a large mouthful and gasped as it went down the wrong way.
‘Careful.’ Hunter’s splayed hand was between her shoulder blades, banging only hard enough to affect a cough.
Fine, if she wasn’t remembering those palms and the mischief they could cause to her libido. Stepping away, she sipped the wine, stared at her feet and wondered what the hell to say next.
Go away. You’re screwing with my head.
Hunter wasn’t getting the vibes or the message. Instead he stared at the collection of framed photos on the far wall. ‘You were always good with a camera, but these are outstanding.’
Her fickle heart swelled with pride. Was nothing on her side? Putting aside her glass, she replied, ‘Thank you. I won an international photographer’s award with the one of the tandem skydiver.’ It was her favourite photo of the thousands she’d taken since giving in to the need for adrenalin rushes that shut down thoughts of a sedate family life—with Hunter.
‘You skydive now?’ He was still staring at the photos, holding his breath as his gaze flicked from one photo to the next.
Watching his face, she replied, ‘I’ve done a couple of jumps.’
Hunter looked down at her, amazement warring with anger all over his face. ‘Why, Brenna?’
Because I couldn’t have the life I wanted so I found another one.
She had to push him. How else could she deal with this man standing in her house looking gorgeous, and sexy, and so—so Hunter-ish? Her shoulders were tense as she rolled them. ‘Why not? People do it all the time.’
‘You enjoy living dangerously? You want to hurt those who love you when it goes horribly wrong?’
Said the man who’d hurt her badly. ‘There are always plenty of safety measures in place.’
‘They’ve been known to fail.’ He stepped closer, taking her shoulders in his hands. ‘Did I do this to you, Bren?’ There was pain in his eyes, darkening the silver shade to brooding clouds. ‘Did I?’
She sagged into his grip. ‘It has little to do with you, Hunter. Believe me. It’s about me and my life.’ He’d added to her need to prove herself worthy of attention when he’d left her, but he hadn’t started it. ‘There was a day after my mother left us—I was eight—when I climbed the Douglas fir in the neighbour’s yard. All the way to the top.’
‘Let me guess. You refused to come down until she came home.’
‘You’ve got it.’ She could smile about it now. ‘Dad cajoled, and begged, and growled. Nothing worked. He started climbing up to me, and the higher he got the more the top of the tree swayed. I held on like grim death until he reached me.’ She could still remember his warm hand wrapping around her ankle in such a tender manner that had told her how naughty she’d been, and how loved she was, that she was lucky one parent cared enough to climb the tree for her.
‘There was no colour in his cheeks and I had to talk him down. He suffered from vertigo.’ He was the best dad anyone could ask for.
‘Promise me you’ll never tell Dylan that story. I don’t get vertigo, but I hate climbing trees and getting jabbed by branches all the way.’
‘That could cost you.’ She smiled sadly. ‘About a month after you’d gone, I woke up one morning and decided I could either find another tree and hope you’d find me or I could get out there and enjoy life, even take some risks. Calculated ones, I assure you.’
‘Things can still go wrong, no matter how many safety precautions you put in place,’ he murmured.
‘I think we’ve both learned that lesson.’ She could admit she hadn’t fought to keep Hunter in her life, hadn’t decided to move east with him, but then she’d be admitting she’d been afraid to risk losing the love of her father when he’d been there for her when her mother had deserted them, and for everything afterwards. Her chest rose on a breath, and she shifted the conversation sideways.
‘I tandem dive but haven’t been solo. I tried but sitting on the edge of the p
lane, staring down at the ground way below, knowing it was entirely up to me to land softly and not someone attached to my back making the right moves, seriously scared me.’
‘Thank goodness for something.’ His sigh whispered against her cheek. ‘I was starting to think I don’t know you at all.’ Relief flickered in the depth of his gaze. ‘That would be too much, would make a mockery of my memories.’
Her heart rocked. Hunter had memories too? Good ones? Like hers? Low in her belly heat unfurled. For a moment she didn’t feel quite so alone. As though she might be able to find someone to warm her heart, to keep her safe and happy. Because, as much as she denied it, that was what she truly wanted. A partner to share everything with. Could she begin to let go some of the knots that had held her together over the years?
‘Where have you gone?’ His finger brushed over her hair.
‘I’m not sure,’ she answered truthfully. The pounding in her chest got louder as she looked into the dark gaze she’d never forgotten, had been looking for over the years. ‘I’m really not sure.’
Hunter was leaning towards her, his hands ever so gently drawing her closer to him.
Brenna tried to straighten up, away, but couldn’t. It felt right being there, close to that strong chest and the warmth emanating from his whole, long, wide body. Flipping her head back, she gazed up at Hunter. He was—He was Hunter. The man she’d sworn to love for ever, to have babies with, to grow old beside. Her heart skipped a beat. All those wonderful things that she still wanted. Something deep inside began melting as her body reacted to the need that she’d been fighting for days took over. It pushed aside her fear of making a mistake, letting hope take over. Her mouth dried as the gap between them lessened.
His scent swirled around her, his warmth heated her, the light stubble on his chin reminding her of how it felt on her skin, blocking out all thought. As if by their own accord, her feet lifted onto her toes and she was reaching for him, her arms sliding around his neck, her mouth seeking his.
Hot. Hungry. Demanding. Giving and taking. Brenna pushed hard against him, her mouth devouring his, her hands pressing into him. Hunter returned her kiss, hot, hungry, his tongue teasing her mouth, his body plastered to hers, one hand clasping her bottom.
Yes. Haze and longing and heat swamped her. Burned her.
Thud, against her thigh.
What?
Thud.
Wrenching her mouth away from the maelstrom threatening to drown her, Brenna jerked out of Hunter’s hold. ‘Poppy.’
Thanks for the wake-up call.
She’d just made the most horrendous blunder. Thankfully they hadn’t gone too far. Her fingers slid across her bottom lip, already swollen from that kiss. ‘Hunter, I...’ Words failed her. They’d kissed as though six years didn’t lie between this and their last one.
‘Don’t, Bren. Let’s not dissect what happened. We got carried away when we shouldn’t have.’ Regret scored his words and darkened his eyes as he turned for the door. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow when I come to make sure your car fires up.’
‘I can do that.’
‘I’m sure you can, but I’ll be here at five-thirty.’ He disappeared out of the room, his heavy tread the only sound in her house until the front door clicked shut behind him, leaving an eerie silence in the hallway.
So, he wasn’t going to avoid her after that kiss. Then again, he couldn’t when they had to work together. She needed to take immediate vacation leave. Starting now, and not finishing until Hunter began his hospital job. Brenna sank onto the nearest chair before her shaking legs dropped her in a heap on the floor.
‘What the hell just happened?’ Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, making her wince when she bit too hard. The absolute last thing she’d wanted to do was to be anything more than friends, not even close ones, and she’d gone and kissed him.
Poppy dropped her head onto her knees, her big brown eyes staring at her.
‘Thank you, girl. You saved me making a total moron of myself.’ Who knew how far they’d have gone if she hadn’t got a head butt from her dog?
Thump, thump went Poppy’s tail.
‘What? Oh, walkies?’
Thump, thump, thump.
‘Let’s go,’ Brenna sighed. She could think about Hunter and his soul-destroying kisses just as easily walking the streets as she could here. If her legs actually managed to gain enough strength to hold her upright. Who’d have believed that after all this time Hunter would still have the power to knock her off her feet?
She needed to toughen up. Fast. Before tomorrow morning. Because, awkward or not, she would be going into work and doing what she loved most in the world, flying around saving people.
What she loved most, not who.
Hunter had no part of the who bit. He was the past, had to remain there, could not be given the opportunity to come back into her world only to leave when it suited him. So, if anyone was leaving the rescue service during the next three and a half weeks it would be him, not her.
She was being harsh, but harsh had got her over him, and into a life that had brought adventure, fun and even another man for a couple of years. Shane had proposed on a skiing holiday in Banff and she’d believed she loved him, had been pleased for a second chance at happiness. But somehow her hours at work had increased and setting the wedding date had never happened.
When Shane had said he couldn’t continue the way they were going she should’ve fought harder to keep him by cutting back hours to be with him more often and settled on a wedding date so she could move into domestic bliss, where she’d be immune to Hunter. Seemed she’d reacted instinctively, protecting herself again, only it hadn’t hurt with Shane the way it had with Hunter.
Fabulous man that Shane was, he wasn’t right for her. Or she wasn’t right for him. One or the other, it was the same result. They’d split up amicably and could have a coffee together without the world exploding into a star storm of lust. Or anger and arguments. They were better friends than a couple. Hell, she even got on fine with his new squeeze.
Stars twinkled through the bare branches of the elms, no exploding going on up there. Brenna shivered in the chilly air and lengthened her stride to outpace the ghosts of her previous life. ‘It’s you and me, eh, Pops?’
At the sound of her name, Poppy wagged her tail and a reluctant smile lifted Brenna’s tender lips. ‘Perhaps I should find you a big bruiser of a mate and breed puppies. We could have a complete family of four-legged brats to keep us happy.’
Poppy stopped abruptly, her nose checking out a pile of leaves.
‘You don’t like that idea? Me either.’ What she really needed was to call up her single girlfriends and go out. Not happening this weekend, though. Unfortunately, a weekend with her mum and sisters in the beach cabin wasn’t going to produce a sexy man to play with.
Any man whose name wasn’t Hunter Ford.
Not one to fall into bed with a guy within hours of meeting him, getting some fun and light relief wasn’t happening any time soon.
No, Hunter Ford was not an option.
* * *
‘Daddy,’ Dylan shrieked, charging at Hunter. ‘I coloured in a picture of a horse today. Want to see it?’
Hunter swung his little man above his head and held him there, smiling up at the excitement in his eyes. ‘Of course, I do, but you’ve got to get down first.’
Dylan tried to swing his legs downward and laughed when his dad held him tighter. ‘Let me go.’
‘Tell me what else you did at preschool first.’
‘I did three wees and had chocolate cake because it was Amber’s birthday. We sang “Happy Birthday” and clapped. Put me down.’
‘Okay, kiddo.’ Reluctantly Hunter set Dylan back on his feet. If he had it his way, he’d never let him go, but he wasn’t going to stifle him, even when he wanted to protect him from absolutely eve
rything, including tripping over his feet in his rush to get the coloured-in horse.
Dylan yelled, ‘Ow!’ and straightened up just before he crashed into the wall.
‘Slow down,’ Hunter called after him.
‘Here, get this on board. You look like you’ve had the day from hell.’ Dave was handing him a beer.
Nothing wrong with his day. It was the early evening that had tipped him sideways and had him questioning every damned thought about returning to Vancouver to settle down properly. He would not think about helping Brenna or going inside her house. Definitely not thinking about that kiss. Not for a moment. Or how her body had turned his brain to mush whenever he’d touched her, which he’d done way too often, once being more than necessary.
‘He’s late. Wonder what kept him from getting home on time?’
‘We don’t always finish bang on the dot of six, Jess,’ he growled, before swallowing a large gulp of beer. He hadn’t got to tasting his wine back at his last stop, the distraction in the room being too huge to focus on anything else. He didn’t even remember putting the glass down, but he must’ve since it hadn’t come home with him. Why had he kissed Bren? Brenna. As if he’d had any choice when she’d been so close, smelt delicious, looked like the woman of his dreams. That’s because she was the woman of his dreams. He swore and downed half the bottle of beer.
‘Tsk, no swearing in front of children,’ Jess growled, before saying, ‘Let’s try who got you in such a sweat. Wouldn’t be Doc Williamson, by any chance?’
‘Want another beer, bud?’
Thank goodness for sensible pals. ‘Please, Dave. That one hardly touched sides.’
‘I’m taking that as a yes.’ Jess smirked and sipped her wine. ‘I have to meet this woman who gets you in a twist.’
‘Take it any way you like,’ Hunter gave back, focusing his annoyance on her and away from the images of a kiss that had knocked his knees out from under him and set his blood racing through his veins, bringing memories and longing and putting a hex on his careful plans for the future.