“This is my sanctuary, Hunter.” She pressed her palm to her chest, noticing how fast her heart was racing. “The only place I have where I don’t need Muttley to guide me, where I don’t have to worry about tripping over someone’s bag, and where I don’t have to wonder if I remembered my pants.”
“I understand how important your space is, Trouble.” He took her hand between his much larger ones. “Just like I understand how much you are giving up by letting me stay here, which is why I will mind my p’s and q’s.” He pressed her hand to his chest, and she could feel the steady beat of his heart when he whispered, “Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a scout.” Mackenzie slipped her hand from between his, because it was impossible to think clearly while he was touching her. Reason enough to back out of this entire deal. “And minding your p’s and q’s means you sleep on the couch, your things sleep in the office closet, and your boots never sleep under my bed.”
“Trouble, when we’re not working, I’m going to be so stealth you won’t even know I’m here.” She could hear his victorious smile.
Hunter didn’t have a stealthy bone in his body. In fact, the guy was so potent he could charm an entire stadium full of people with a single grin. There was no way she was getting through this unaffected.
Her disbelief must have been visible, because he chuckled. “I see I’m going to have to prove it to you.”
Hunter led her to the table, and something about the strong, confident way he took her hand made her smile. A genuine smile that came from somewhere long forgotten and warmed her from the inside out.
“I’d like to be proven wrong.”
This time he all-out laughed. “Trouble, if you were ever to get a tattoo, it would say, ‘Told you so’ in big bold letters. Right across your backside.”
He had her there. As much as Mackenzie hated to admit it, she could come off as a know-it-all. But going blind had a way of changing one’s perspective—on everything. Now it didn’t matter so much if she was in the right ... It was the consequences of being wrong that kept her awake at night.
Every situation, every encounter, was an exhausting game of sink or swim. And after three years of treading water, Mackenzie was too damn tired to argue about which direction land was.
“Maybe I’ve changed too,” she offered quietly.
Hunter squatted beside her chair as if he was quietly studying her—something that usually caused her to shy away, but this moment called for honesty, so she let him look his fill. Let him see the discomfort his presence in her house caused, the embarrassment over the potato disaster, even allowed him a glimpse of just how incredibly lost she felt in her new world.
He’d come to her in search of that adventurous, take-no-prisoners spitfire from his past and found a struggling but determined songwriter whose inspiration came from long-ago memories.
“Then how about we start from the beginning,” he said gently, taking her hand between his once again—and her heart pounded at the simple contact. Although a good part of the thump-thumps came from the thrill of what his offer would entail. “Hi, ma’am. I couldn’t help but notice you sitting here all by your lonesome. I’m Hunter, and as fate would have it, I’ve got a batch of my aunt’s famous corn bread in the oven and two of the best steaks you’ll ever eat grilling outside.”
“Those are some mighty big words.”
“Only big if you don’t have the goods to back it up,” he said and—oh boy, did he just turn up the broiler?Suddenly she was feeling a little flushed.
“I also have some potatoes cooking in there as well.”
“Potatoes and I aren’t really getting along these days.”
“Which is why they will be smashed, the way all unruly potatoes should be treated, with roasted garlic and a lot of butter,” he teased, and just like that the embarrassment from the day evaporated. “And it would be a shame for even a bite of them to go to waste. So I was wondering if you would do me the honor of having dinner with me.”
A shy smile made its way across her face, but Mackenzie let him see that too. “Is there honey butter to go with that corn bread?”
“Does Georgia grow the prettiest peaches?” His words were laced with a warm humor that brought her right back to how things used tobe between them. Fun, easy, so incredibly right a lump formed in her throat.
“Well then, I’m Mackenzie,” she said, that lump growing in size and intensity. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure’s mine.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, which she felt all the way to her toes. “Now can I get you a beer to go with those steaks?”
“I tried that the other night and it didn’t work out so well for me,” she informed him. “I got a little tipsy, shared a few too many secrets, then passed out.”
“Sweet tea, then,” he said and stood, releasing her hand, and walked to the fridge. “What kind of assholes have you been hanging around? Plying a woman with liquor?” He gave a teasing whistle. “I hope the guy at least made sure you got home safely.”
“Oh, he did.” She pulled her feet up and hugged her arms around her knees. “But when I woke up the next morning, he was still here. Making himself right at home.”
“Of all the dick moves!” Hunter sounded completely outraged, and she could almost picture him standing with his hands on his hips, shaking his head like he was all piss and vinegar, but his eyes would be full of laughter. “I mean, what kind of jerk makes sure the girl gets to bed safely, then sleeps on the couch with an attack dog eyeing his jewels all night?”
“Even worse, he didn’t leave.” Even though it was all a part of his game, flirting with Hunter felt good. “Then he tried to sneak his boots under my bed.”
“Well, you won’t have that problem with me, Miss Mackenzie. No, ma’am, I am a gentleman to the core.”
