“Definitely not.”
“I’m only about fifteen minutes from here.” She puts the tip of a finger to her mouth and nibbles the end. I have never wanted to be a finger so badly. “You don’t have any plans today do you?” I press, knowing she doesn’t. I’ve followed her long enough to know she does very little on Sundays.
“No.” Jess releases an audible sigh. “Come on then.”
“It’s not that much of a hardship spending time with me, is it?”
A reluctant smile twitches on her lips. “No, of course not.”
“Good, cause I plan on spending a lot of time with you from now on.”
Chapter Four
Jess
We pull up outside a Victorian terraced house, all red brick and tall windows. It takes me a moment to realize we’ve reached Hunter’s house. The place he’s on the verge of losing. Funny, I didn’t picture him living in a normal house. I clearly know nothing about him.
He turns off the engine. “Here we are. You can wait in the car if you want.”
Curiosity has me shaking my head and he shrugs. We climb out, push through the small wooden gate and I stare at the bevelled windows as he unlocks the door. I still can’t figure out how I ended up here. There’s definitely this burning need to find out more about him driving me, but I’ve never given into inquisitiveness before. Why now? Why with Hunter?
He flicks a grin in my direction and motions me in. My stomach flips. Because he’s so sexy probably. What am I doing? Why have I put myself in this situation? I’ve already shown I have no sense when it comes to Hunter. I should never have let him kiss me or even remotely encouraged him.
“Wait in here.” He motions to the door on the right. “I’ll just grab a change of clothes.”
I blink as I step into the living room. The dated furniture and dog ornaments are not what I was expecting. My surprise must show as Hunter laughs.
“Not exactly a man cave, right?”
“Well, I—” God, I’ve probably insulted him but I never expected a guy with scruff and a leather jacket to own miniature cottages.
“It was my mam’s house.”
“Ah.”
“Haven’t got around to redecorating.”
I shove my hands in my coat pockets and gaze around. “Is she—”
“Dead?”
“Well, I wasn’t going to—”
“Cancer. Three years ago.” Sorrow flits across his face before being carefully buried under a wry grin.
“I’m sorry.”
He lifts a shoulder. “It was a blessing in the end that she went. She was pretty sick.”
Several photos sit on the mantelpiece. I take the time to study them, unsure what I should do now. I’ve spent so long avoiding people, I think I’ve forgotten how to interact with them. I guess it makes sense that I’ve fallen under Hunter’s spell. He’s the first man to show me any attention that is more than just perving on me or wanting to feel me up. My lips curl upwards as I spot a photo of what must be Hunter and his mother. He still looks like a bad boy even though he couldn’t have been more than fifteen. I bet he broke hearts at that age.
“She’s beautiful.”
“She was.”
I want to cry. He sounds like a little lost boy all of a sudden and not like the confident man I think I know.
“I’ll be two seconds.”
I don’t turn around. I’m a bit scared as to what might happen if I look at him. Maybe I will cry or he’ll finally figure out who I am beneath my disguise. He could, I suspect, if he looked hard enough. Part of me longs for that. I’m so tired of lying and hiding. But that part of me secretly hopes whoever finds out will also accept me and that won’t happen.
Footsteps sound upstairs and I hear a floorboard creak. To distract myself from the thought that he’s stripping off at this very moment, I eye all the miniature dogs and trinkets. Hunter’s mum died a while ago. Why didn’t he get rid of this stuff? There really is more to the man than meets the eye.
I sense him behind me before I hear him—a pricking sensation on the back of my neck. I don’t turn, my breath stays trapped in my chest. I’m frightened of seeing him. Frightened of what he does to me. Everything has me feeling so vulnerable.
Continuing my study of the house, another photo catches my attention. This time Hunter is probably twenty and sitting on a massive black motorbike. “You ride?”
“Yeah.”
I move along to the final photo. Hunter is even younger and there’s a man in it. They’re sat on the beach, eating ice creams, just the three of them. My heart pangs. That was how things were with my parents before they were killed in the car crash. I only have fuzzy memories but I remember happiness and laughter.
“That your dad?” I ask to distract myself from the ache in my throat.
“Yeah. He might be dead too.”
I turn to face him.