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Did I deserve all of this?
“You made this for me?” I asked.
“If I had, even the strawberries would be burned,” Hunter said.
I grinned. “It’s stunning. Can I thank Maria?”
“She’s giving us privacy. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
I didn’t like the serious tone in his voice or this feeling of dread that our euphoric bubble might soon pop.
Hunter poured two cups of coffee from a silver shiny thing before he kissed my forehead.
“Make a plate. Meet me in the dining room.”
The back of my eyes burned slightly because it scared me, realizing how much I wanted this. Waking up with Hunter, getting to spend breakfast with him—just the two of us.
I never really thought much about what I might be missing when I had shut myself off from the prospect of relationships before. Even when I became friends with Sean, our friendship didn’t fill me in a way that changed me forever.
But now Iwaschanging forever. It was like exposing yourself to a level of happiness you never imagined existed, and now you knew that no matter what happened from this point forward, you would never be the same.
I forced the unwelcome emotions down my throat with a swallow, and then I quickly made myself a plate of eggs, pancakes, blueberries, and sausage patties, before padding with my bare feet along the cool hardwood floors to the dining room.
Where I was struck by the beauty of its decor. The color scheme was dominated by white and gray with a few accents of silver that added a touch of elegance to the space. The chairs stood tall and imposing—their gray upholstery adding to the sense of formality and severity in the room—while the centerpiece of the table was a large, ornate silver bowl filled with white roses, their delicate petals seeming almost out of place in the stern environment.
The walls were adorned with minimalist art pieces, their monochromatic color scheme adding to the sense of coldness and control in the space. It was a room that spoke of power and authority, a space designed for strategic meetings and calculated conversations.
No doubt what this one was about to be, based on the tense look in Hunter’s eyes as he sat at the head of the table. Still shirtless with sexy bedhead but brimming with that domineering control he always had.
I stared at the different chairs, wondering where I was supposed to sit.Should I sit across from him, which was twenty feet away? Next to him?
Sensing my trepidation, Hunter smiled and pulled the chair out closest to him.
I ambled over and sat down, worried I’d scratch his table or spill something on the decadent furniture.
“Do you ever get used to the grandness of it all?” I asked as he sat back down.
“What was your dining room, like growing up?” he asked, taking a sip of coffee, his eyebrows raised in a display of curiosity.
“We had a folding table and chairs in our kitchenette.”
He set his mug down and leaned back in his chair, studying me. “What was that like?”
I shrugged. “It was hard to care about the type of table we had when someone was missing from it for every meal. I mostly just stared at Dad’s empty seat.”
He nodded slowly, empathy etched in his eyes.
“You’ve probably hosted a lot of dinners at this table,” I surmised, wanting the tone to lighten a bit. I looked around at the seats, wondering. “Who’s the most powerful person who’s been here?”
Hunter considered this for a moment. “The vice president.”
“Of the United States?” I choked.
He nodded.
“Geez. The most powerful person who ever sat at ours was the neighborhood electrician. She gave us a discount, so Mom thanked her by inviting her to stay for food.”
Mom. Gosh, I never really allowed myself the space to realize how much I missed her.
