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A grim look passed across Hunter’s features. “Yes. All part of that family emergency that kept me tied up for the past few weeks that I mentioned to you earlier.”
She blinked at him in shock, still trying to digest that scary realization. He’
d told her his family was fine, but clearly his brother’s life had been in jeopardy. So many questions ran through her mind. “What happened?”
He sighed and gave her a faint smile. “It’s a long story, so let’s go ahead and order first,” he said as their waiter appeared with menus.
The gentleman took their drink orders, and by the time he arrived back with a premium bourbon for Hunter and a prosecco for her—which Elle hoped would be mild enough for her stomach—they’d decided what they wanted to eat.
“I’ll have a bowl of your minestrone soup,” she told the waiter.
“And for your entrée?” the gentleman asked.
Elle shook her head and smiled at him. “That’s all I’d like. Thank you.”
Hunter frowned at her but went ahead and ordered the New York shell steak, medium rare, for himself. They handed off their menus and Hunter was quick to give her an unhappy look.
“Soup?” he asked, his tone ringing with exasperation. “Out of all the fantastic entrees on the menu, that’s what you’re having? I can afford your meal, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
She laughed because that was the last thing that concerned her, though he didn’t look amused. “It’s really all I want. My stomach has been . . . weird the past few days. I’m okay right now, but I don’t want to eat anything too heavy.”
Worry knitted his brows as his gaze searched her face. “Are you getting sick?”
If it was the flu, she figured she’d have full-blown symptoms by now and a fever, which she didn’t. “No . . . the nausea comes and goes.”
His gaze narrowed, and he was quiet for a moment, as if he was trying to figure out the issue. “Are you pregnant?”
Her jaw dropped open, then snapped shut, the blunt, unexpected question taking Elle aback. Holy crap. Had he really asked her if she was pregnant? Judging by his genuine expression, yes . . . yes, he had. And she was at a loss for words. How had this conversation gotten so off track by her ordering a bowl of soup?
He reached out and grabbed her hand, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze that surprised her. “I’m being serious, Elle,” he said, his tone soft and low, instead of freaked-out like most men would probably be at the thought of a surprise baby. “If you’re pregnant, you need to tell me and we’ll figure everything out.”
Embarrassment swept through her. God, her face felt as though it was on fire, and she was so grateful for their private booth. “No, I’m not pregnant,” she whispered and, with her free hand, reached for her prosecco and took a drink of the cool, sweet wine.
“Are you sure?” he persisted.
Oh, my God. “Yes. One hundred percent.” She lowered her voice even more, unable to believe they were having this discussion, but Hunter looked so intent on discovering the truth and she was determined to end the exchange. “You used condoms, I’m on the pill, and I had my period a few days after we were together. I’m sure, Hunter.”
She expected to see a flood of relief in his eyes, but the concern etching his features over her stomach issues remained, and she was desperate to change the subject so she wasn’t the focus of his attention.
“Now that we have that out of the way, tell me what happened to your brother.”
Chapter 10
Hunter had only known Elle for a short time, but in that moment of believing she might be pregnant, something major had shifted inside of him. When she’d diminished his concern about her coming down with the flu, his mind had jumped to the next most logical conclusion of why she hadn’t been feeling well, and shockingly, instead of fear and anxiety taking hold at the thought of her carrying his child, he’d actually felt an overwhelming rush of protective emotions over the possibility. On the heels of that was all the hope and longing and dreams he’d buried the day he’d laid his fiancée to rest so many years ago.
The fact that Elle could induce such strong emotions in him so soon was fucking scary, but also exhilarating because he never expected to feel that way about anyone ever again. Never believed there could be a woman after Natalie who would make him want all those things he’d planned for his future. But he was quickly realizing that Elaina Darian was his second chance at everything he’d lost, and he was determined not to lose this opportunity to have that kind of happiness again.
Right now, Elle was waiting expectantly for him to talk. She wanted to know what had happened to Maddux and why he’d been shot, and while Hunter normally avoided any kind of personal conversation with a date, that wasn’t the case with Elle. He was compelled to share every part of himself with her, including his past and childhood that had shaped so much of his life and personality, and that’s where he decided to start with this particular story so she was privy to everything.
He took a long drink of his bourbon, and still holding Elle’s hand in his, he turned toward her, meeting her patient gaze. “In order for you to understand why Maddux was shot, I need to tell you about what happened to my parents when I was just a kid, though this isn’t easy for me to talk about.”
“You already told me that your parents died,” she said softly.
He nodded. “Yes, but it’s how they died that started a series of events that led to my brother taking a bullet . . . for the woman he loves, who is also the daughter of the man who murdered our parents.”
Elle’s eyes rounded and her lips parted on a gasp as she processed that information. “Oh, my God, Hunter. Your parents were deliberately killed?”
“Yes.” He was shocked to see a shimmer of moisture fill her eyes, though he shouldn’t have been when he knew how compassionate Elle was. “Theodore Cole worked for the Mafia, as did a man named Gavin, and they took it upon themselves to extort payments from the small businesses in our neighborhood for the promise of protection from the higher-ups in the organization. My parents owned a small restaurant, and with three kids to support, they were struggling to make ends meet. After a few years of paying Theodore out of fear of what might happen to them, or us, they just couldn’t do it any longer. They had nothing left to give, despite Theodore’s threats that something really bad was going to happen if they didn’t come up with the money . . . and a short while after that, someone deliberately set a grease fire in the restaurant kitchen while my mother was in the office doing paperwork. She got trapped by the spreading fire and died, and my father, who tried to save her, ended up dying that same day of cardiac arrest.”
