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“Your secret is safe with me,” Olivia answered with a grin as she led him into the house and down the hall toward the large, brightly adorned kitchen.

The kitchen had been her mother's creation, from the gleaming copper kettles hanging from the ceiling to the white teak cabinets, marble countertops, the burnished hardwood floor and the fire-engine red kitchen table. Her mother's collection of roosters—cups, pot holders, tea kettle, tiles—were evident in all areas of the kitchen. A small black and white sign reading “Gigi's kitchen” hung proudly on the wall.

Hunter took a seat at the kitchen table, gratefully accepting the generous slice of pie Olivia doled out to him along with a tall glass of lemonade. She joined him at the table after cutting herself a smaller slice of pie and pouring herself a glass of milk. As she dug into her cobbler she felt the heat of Hunter's dark gaze on her.

With her fork in mid-air, she asked, “What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

He shook his head and chuckled. “I love the way you eat. It's very polite.”

Olivia snorted. “Polite? How?”

“Hmmm...let's see. I could eat this in two bites while you are tackling it in a very polite, ladylike manner. I guess it just shows the difference between men and women.”

Olivia frowned. It made her sound so boring and cautious. “You make me sound like a priss. I’ll have you know that I can devour this cobbler in seconds,” she said, determined to show Hunter that she wasn’t a proper, prim woman. She dug into her last few pieces of cobbler and pushed it in her mouth all at once. She raised her glass of milk to her mouth and drank half the glass. Some cobbler had dribbled down the side of her mouth, so she scooped it up with her finger and ate all the remnants of the peach cobbler. “Mmm,” she said. “That was delicious.”

Hunter gaped at her, his fork held mid-air. “Wow. Who knew you could eat like that?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Don’t you remember that time I won the pie eating contest at the fair?”

Hunter slapped his palm on the table. His smile was effusive. “How did I forget that? You won a year’s worth of ice cream at the Dairy Barn.”

“I sure did!” Olivia said, grinning at the memory.

“I have a confession to make.” Hunter stared at her, his brown eyes twinkling. “There was this one night when I was full of romantic ideas and I came here at midnight with an armful of roses. I stood underneath your window, with one foot on the ground and the other on your trellis. Needless to say, I chickened out…or came to my senses.”

“To tell you the truth, I'm surprised that you didn't shimmy up the trellis. Back in the day you put the r in rebel,” she said with a chuckle. That would have been right up his alley as a teenager. He'd always been rebellious and full of mischief. Shimmying up a trellis would have been a piece of cake for him.

Hunter looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. “And run the risk of your daddy taking a shot at me? Not likely,” he said with an exaggerated shiver. “The thought of your daddy catching me at your bedroom window...it still freaks me out. I only wanted to deliver the flowers and skedaddle, but I don’t think it would have mattered to him. He would have been twice as mad as when I stole his ham.”

“Were you scared of him?” she asked, surprised by the revelation. She'd always viewed Hunter as fearless—afraid of nothing and no one. Not even her all-powerful Daddy.

“Who wasn't scared of your daddy? Jack Renault was the King of Savannah. He was the man. The boss. He had swagger before there was a name for it.”

Olivia frowned. “Is that why our relationship was always a secret?”

“Not entirely, but it did play a part. I didn't think he would ever approve of us being together. My family wasn't well-off like yours. I was a little older, more rough around the edges. Even though I was a good student and a jock, I imagined most people in Savannah believed you were dating beneath you.”

His comment sparked immediate outrage within her. “Hunter! That's a terrible thing to say! And it’s not true!”

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“That's how I felt at the time. It was my truth. Looking back on it, I was probably wrong to think that way, but I was young and not as sure of myself as I pretended to be. And we Rawlings got a lot of grief about our situation. Now they call it bullying, but back then it was tolerated.” He stared into her eyes, studying her for a moment, all of his playfulness gone as he searched for answers. “How do you think you would've felt if the roles were reversed? What if I'd been the only son of the richest man in town and you'd been the one with nothing? Would you have been so confident about our relationship? Would you have wanted to flaunt our relationship all over town?”

She paused for a moment to consider Hunter's question. Never in a million years had she ever imagined he'd ever felt so vulnerable and unworthy. In her eyes, he'd had everything—a big family, popularity, good looks, athleticism and amazing grades. Matter of fact, she'd often wondered if he'd been ashamed of her and their relationship. And now, he was basically admitting that he'd never felt good enough to be her love interest. As a result, raw emotion coursed through her and she felt on the verge of tears.

Blinking away the moisture in her eyes, Olivia coughed to clear the sobs from her throat. “Any girl would've been proud to date you, to be your girlfriend. I know I was,” she said boldly. This is what Hunter did to her. He made her bolder and more open than she'd felt in her entire life. Free to take chances. Free to speak her mind. Free to live and love.

“I didn't want just any girl, Liv. I wanted you. It was always you.”

“I felt the same way, Hunter. Then…and now.”

Hunter's eyes went wide, and in their depths she saw it all—surprise, excitement, joy.

“Where have you been all of my life, Olivia Renault?” Hunter asked, his voice sounding ragged with emotion.

Olivia laughed, the sound of it echoing in the stillness of the room. “I’ve been right here in Savannah. Right where you left me.”

Hunter placed his lips on her mouth, effectively shushing her from mentioning the fact that he had once ridden away from her on his motorcycle. Although his kiss may have been a means of shutting her up, it was so tender and delicious that it made her heart soar. She swayed a little before she felt his strong arms behind her back, propping her up and giving her legs. With every kiss it felt as if he was being scorched with the heat of a thousand suns.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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