Max withdrew his hand and looked around, his expression uncertain. “Um... can I get you a drink?”
“Britt!”
Hunter.His voice spurred her to move. “Sorry,” she mumbled to Max, pushing past him. But she didn’t get very far before Hunter had grabbed her arm.
“Britt, what are you doing here?”
If someone asked her that question one more time... She turned and tried to jerk her arm away from him. “Let me go,” she grumbled, unable to look at him.
“Not until we talk.”
Her gaze went to his, and she was shocked at what she saw. Pain. Vulnerability. Confusion and apprehension. The same things she’d drawn into the portrait she’d made of him when she closed her eyes. Later she drew a more accurate one that exemplified his beauty, thinking that she’d finally captured the real man. But she had no idea what was real anymore.
“Please, Britt. If you don’t want to have anything to do with me after we talk, I won’t bother you again.”
She didn’t believe him. But for some inexplicable reason, she couldn’t tell him no. She nodded and let him lead her out of the crowd and through the numerous living areas. The house seemed endless.
Finally, they stopped in front of a closed door. Hunter opened it, and they both went inside.
***
It didn’t take long for Daniel to catch up to Amy. Halfway down the Picketts’ driveway, she’d stopped to take off her shoes and throw them in the yard before marching off again. Daniel scooped them up and ran after her, saying her name over and over. When he reached her, he jumped in front of her, intending to make her stop.
But Amy had always been unpredictable, and she kicked him in the shin and blew past him again. The blow didn’t hurt... too much. He spun around and grabbed her by the waist, the flowing fabric from her dress twisting around both of them.
“What are you doing?”
He glanced at the house. They were far enough away that no one could see them. He set her back down but held fast.
“Let me go.” She squirmed in his arms.
“Not until you settle down.”
“Settle down?” She glared at him, years of rage in her eyes. “You can’t tell me what to do. Not anymore.”
“Did I ever?”
Amy paused. “No.”
If the circumstances were different, he would have smiled. Nobody told Amy Branch what to do. But at least she’d stopped moving. “If I let you go, will you stay?”
“No—”
He tightened his arms around her. He wasn’t hurting her. He’d release her before he would do that. But she had to listen to some kind of reason. And now that she was calmer, her hands resting on his biceps instead of pushing against them, warm memories flooded him. He missed her so much. Even her red-hot temper. “I’ll ask again. Are you going to stay?”
After a second’s hesitation, she nodded.
Daniel slowly loosened his arms, ready to grab her again if she went back on her word. When she didn’t, he dropped his hands to his sides and took a step back. “Sorry I had to do that.”
She lifted her chin, still glaring at him. “You have no right touching me. Or ordering me around.”
“I know, but—”
“What did you do to Britt?”
He frowned. “I didn’t do anything to her.”
“Have you brainwashed her? Bribed her?” Her hands were fisted at her sides.
