AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Home,” she whispered, even though there was no reason to do so.
“You weren’t going to say goodbye?” He frowned.
“You were asleep.” As far as excuses went, she knew it was lame. From the disappointment on his face, he knew it was lame, too. “I...I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“You wanted me to wake up alone?” His long stride erased the space between them. His expression was confused and, maybe, a little sad. “Why are you running out on me?”
She blinked, shaking her head. “I’m not—”
“Stop, Jo.” His hands clasped her upper arms. “Let’s have some coffee and talk.”
“Hunter,” she said, “my dad—”
His hands slipped from her shoulders as he stepped back. “Admit you’re scared. But don’t use your dad as an excuse to avoid talking to me.”
Her first instinct was to fight. The only problem with that? He was right, that’s exactly what she was doing—and feeling. Which meant arguing with him was stupid. But talking to him, actually talking about feelings, would be bad. Especially now that she knew she loved him. What if he asked her how she felt? What if he loved her?
Joy and anticipation and pure, unfiltered panic pressed in on her, forcing the air from her lungs. Leaving was the best option, for both of them. She glanced at the door two steps away, the doorknob within easy reach.
“I don’t want another eleven years of silence, Jo.” His words were so raw, so hard, she had to look at him. Pain filled his eyes, so deep she was drowning in it. “Whatever you say can’t be as bad as saying nothing.”
She couldn’t look away, no matter how much she wanted to. It killed her, to see him hurting. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Why are you leaving?”
She shook her head, then shrugged. “I...I’m not good at the whole one-night-stand thing.” She heard how callous her words were.
He was scowling now. “That’s not what this is.”
She couldn’t stop the words from coming. “What is it? What is this?” She pointed back and forth between the two of them. “Hunter...” Her voice broke. Damn it. She didn’t want this. Her heart might be a traitor, but she wasn’t going to give in. She wasn’t.
His hand cupped her cheek. “Would falling in love be that bad?” Why did he have to look at her like that? With tenderness and hope. Hope, which led to disappointment, disillusionment and heartbreak.
“Yes,” she rasped. “It would be a mistake. A huge mistake. Like last night...all of this.” She was spiraling out of control—she could hear it in her voice.
His gaze was relentless, searching and intense, while his thumb stroked along her cheekbone. She tried not to shudder, she did, but she failed. His posture changed, and he relaxed. His crooked smile appeared, and one brow arched as he leaned forward. “People make mistakes in life—it happens all the time.” His hand grasped her chin, tilting her head back. “Loving you isn’t one of them.”
Was he saying he loved her? Now? Was the room spinning? And he was kissing her... Holding her in a way that told her he’d never let her go. How could she be so happy and so miserable at the same time?
“Stay, Jo,” he murmured against her lips.
“I can’t.” She pressed against his chest.
“You can. If you weren’t so stubborn, you’d see that.”
“Always have been—” She sucked in a deep breath, hoping to shake off the all-too-tempting invitation his lips were issuing as they traveled along her neck. “Stubborn,” she whispered.
His laugh was low, his breath warm on her skin. “It’s hot as hell,” he murmured, lightly biting her earlobe.
She gasped. If she didn’t push out of his hold now, she’d be pushing him back into the bedroom. Pulling away was hard, a lot harder than she wanted to admit. She was still a little breathless when she said, “You don’t play fair.”
He smoothed her hair from her face. “All’s fair in love and war. Can’t help it if I get you all hot and bothered.” He shrugged, his smile fading. “I can’t make you stay, if you’re set on going.”
“I am.” She nodded, trying to convince them both.
“Then go.” His hand rested at the base of her neck, his thumb resting in the hollow of her throat. She swallowed, his touch a brand against her flesh. He grinned, his thumb stroking her neck. “I’ll see you at my dad’s later for dinner.”
She scowled at him, then yanked the door open and stepped out onto the front porch. She ignored him, and his laughter, as she walked out. He followed her, just to poke at her, she knew. It was cold and he was wearing his boxers and not much else. She was about to point that out to him, when someone cleared their throat. A woman stood, her arm resting on the hood of a big shiny four-door pickup truck.
