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“Ash.”
“What?”
He pointed to a table in a far corner of the shop. “Go sit over there, and be quiet.”
“Order my drink right.”
“Ashley’s craving a non-fat, decaf, mocha-latte this random afternoon, and we happened to be in the area, so we came in.”
“He bribed me with a free drink to get me to drive five miles out of our way to come here,” she called from her corner table. “Get to it, Knox, before I decide to take back my recommendation.”
“God-dammit, I miss Beau,” Hunter said under his breath.
“I heard that.”
“Good.”
Waves of hot and cold washed over her. “You drove all the way over here to get a latte?”
“I heard this place had a really cute girl behind the counter, and I wanted to meet her.”
“We’ve already met, Hunter.”
“Hey, it’s your fantasy.” He braced a hand on the counter and leaned closer. “Try to play along.”
His body pulled at hers like a magnet. She caught herself drifting toward him and pulled back. “I can’t.”
He smiled. The slow, charming smile that loosened the knots in her stomach and tightened them in a few other areas. “Why not?”
“Because you already know me.”
The smile disappeared. “I do already know you, Madison. I know you’re stubborn and you’ve got your pride. I know you don’t want anyone riding to your rescue. I know you want to prove you can take care of yourself and your daughter. What I don’t know is if whether you have it in you to take on more.”
“I—excuse me? More? What else should I take on?”
“Me. What if I need help? Can I rely on you to come to my rescue?”
“Of course,” she answered instantly. How could he doubt it? “Anything. Anytime. Whatever you need.”
Blue eyes pinned her. “Swear?”
“Hunter, yes.” Worry clawed at her chest. She reached across the counter and grabbed his arm. “What do you need?”
He closed his hand over hers. “You.”
“I don’t understand.”
A trio of ladies came into the shop, talking, but their discussion petered out as they approached the register, and their curious stares bounced between Hunter and her.
“I need you,” he went on. “And Joy. I need to spend my evenings gently rocking that drowsy little girl to sleep, and then not-so-gently rocking her mama to sleep. I need to wake up in the morning with your body tucked against mine, doing all kinds of justice to an old T-shirt. I need to ask you where my watch is, or my wallet, or my keys, when I could have sworn I left them on the coffee table.”
Her heart started to beat again—an unsteady rhythm with a familiar tug of longing, and a rampant, dangerous hope. “Hunter—”
“Wait a minute.” He tapped a finger on the counter. “I’m not done yet. I need someone to leave a light on for me when I get home late from a class or a study session.”
“Oh, my God. You got in?”
“Yeah, I did, because I needed a letter of recommendation, and someone took it on herself to provide one for me. A damn good letter, from what I hear.”
