“Yeah, Trouble. We have a deal,” he said in a sweet and understanding way that was all Hunter Kane. The down-to-earth, sensitivebarroom musician, the guy who stole her heart with his innate capacity to care, and the guy who could very easily steal it again.
“Good,” she said, twining her fingers. “Well, it’s almost suppertime, so why don’t we start fresh, first thing tomorrow?”
“Supper is a great idea.” Hunter closed the gap between them, placing his hands on her hips. Her stomach did flips at the contact. “What better way to get to know each other again than over a couple of steaks?”
Mackenzie’s palms started to sweat. Supper followed by an evening with just the two of them sounded a heck of a lot cozier than a few car rides into downtown and afternoons with a bunch of foul-mouthed bandmates.
Nope, this stupid crush didn’t need any more encouragement.
“That wasn’t an invitation,” she said breezily. “And I already have plans for supper.”
“With Arthur?”
“Not tonight.” Tonight, her plans involved pizza, a cold root beer, and a bubble bath. For one. “But if you tell me what time you’ll be by in the morning, I’ll be ready.”
“And leave you with nothing but pizza?” he said, and she must have expressed her surprise. “I saw the coupon on the fridge with a folded twenty and it’s takeout Tuesday.”
“Then why break tradition?”
“Because we can do better than that. And we’ve only got three weeks to get this record down and you market-ready, so I’m going to need an all-access pass.”
Mackenzie’s palms began to sweat. “What does that mean?”
“That after we go to the market, I’ll stop by and grab my stuff,” he said smoothly. “I’m moving in.”
