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“Really?”
“Yes.”
I wriggled down, kissing his chin, his throat, his nipple.
“Marc?”
I flicked my tongue at the edge of his sensitivity and Hunter rolled onto his back. I helped shift his leg, parting enough to crawl between his thighs. I tongued my way over the path he’d shown me, across his muscled torso, tasting slightly salty skin.
Hunter’s hands raked through my hair, tugging lightly where he was most sensitive. I breathed him in and kissed as many shivers out of him as I could.
“Oh.” Hunter grunted, pulling me up against him.
His eyes glistened, lashes damp. “I’ve never shown anyone that before.”
A powerful feeling surged through me, and Hunter tightened his hold around my waist. His breath hitched at my throat, and someone was murmuring Hunter’s name. Me.
I slammed my eyes shut. He gripped my face and swept a tender kiss over my lips.
This was getting out of control.
Hunter shouldn’t feel like this for me. I couldn’t accept it.
Shouldn’t. Accept. It.
Fuck.
Chapter Thirteen
Over breakfast—bowls of muesli and orange juice—Hunter called the number on Kyle Gable Green’s card and organized a meeting for Friday.
“Great, yeah,” I said, and gulped my drink. “We’ll change his mind, and then Monday’s plan to tear down the Gazebo will be moot.”
Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window behind Hunter, fitting and beautiful, and it made my heart sick that I would have to end us.
Sooner than later—and before it got more complicated. I wanted him happily wrapped up with a good person who was worthy of him. Someone who had never spoken bad about him behind his back, or flipped him off, or sniggered at him . . .
Someone who didn’t ruin beautiful things.
Except.
I also didn’t want to let him go.
“What are you thinking about?” Hunter asked, brow hitching.
I dropped my spoon and cavalierly folded my arms. Bullshit flavored the tip of my tongue, and I swallowed it. I sighed, rippling the milk puddle in my bowl. “Last night.”
Hunter paused. “Last night was especially memorable.” His little smile into his bowl had my insides tearing.
Maybe . . .
What if I could be good enough? Worthy enough?
I wanted to be.
I could start by saving Hunter’s Gazebo and promise of future love. Mine, if I was so lucky.
Desperate, I jumped to my feet and grabbed Kyle’s card. Friday was two days too far away. I called his secretary back and plead for an earlier appointment. Today.
“He’s busy in meetings all day.”
“He must eat lunch.”
She sighed down the line. “He has business meetings over lunch, too.”
“Please, I only need five minutes.”
“We’ll see you on Friday, good day.” She hung up. I cursed and shoved my phone into my pocket.
Hunter finished washing our dishes and turned his low-key amusement on me. “It’s one night. There’s still time.”
“I’m impatient, remember?” Especially about whether I had a chance with Hunter.
I collapsed onto his navy, cushion-covered couch.
A curious-looking Hunter wearing a DaMage T-shirt rolled to my feet. I wriggled my toes at the cute dimples deepening in his shaven cheeks.
He massaged the balls of my feet as he mused, “I have a camera . . .”
“Huh?”
“A really good camera. Fantastic lens.”
“Okay . . .”
A cheeky glint hit his eye. “And a white van with tinted windows . . .”
I pushed onto my elbows, snickering. “What are you saying, we kidnap him?”
“Or follow him. Catch him on the way to lunch.”
“We don’t even know where he lives.”
Hunter shrugged. “Geek Force God, remember?”
I swung off the couch and grabbed his laptop from the bedroom. “Let’s do this.”
We parked across the road from Gable Green Enterprises, a mini mansion of family offices, under an oak teeming with squirrels racing around its sunbaked trunk. It was like living in Utopia—sometimes I wouldn’t mind waking up a squirrel.
Hunter had the window open, camera trained toward the house. “I see movement upstairs, no idea who it is.”
He settled the camera on his lap. “It’s not quite eleven, so we have time.”
“I know it sucks skipping econ”—especially because of my promise to Ben—“but this feels enormously important . . .”
Hunter watched me with kindness I couldn’t absorb. He gestured to the glovebox. “There are snacks.”
I passed him a Coke and a Snickers. He ripped the bar open and bit into it with a happy moan. I greedily accepted the next offered bite. “I thought you were careful with your diet?”
“Exceptions for stalking dates.”
“We should do more stalking dates.”
Hunter laughed, light and carefree. I wondered if I should have implicitly promised more dates. My stomach twisted on the chocolate.
“Regardless,” Hunter said. “I’ll burn it all off tonight at basketball practice.”
“Guess that means you’re busy. Which is good. Fine. I can’t crash at your place every night. Besides, I should face my uncle.” I nibbled at the Snickers bar. “At least change into my own underwear.”
Hunter palmed my upper thigh. “You can wear my underwear any day of the week.”
