by Amy DeLuca
And yes, to date if she wanted to. Hunter had certainly made no claim on her.
“He was one of my customers today, and we struck up a conversation. He’s very nice.”
“You just met him?” Hunter said. “So then you have no idea if he’s really nice or not. He could be a serial killer for all you know.”
“He’s a national news anchor. I highly doubt he’s a serial killer. And if I do go missing, at least you’ll know where to find him.”
“That isn’t funny,” Hunter hissed under his breath, darting his eyes toward Larson then back to her. “You can’t go.”
“What?” Kristal blinked a couple of times, taking a beat to make sure she’d actually heard him right. Can’t? “Of course I can, and I will. I’ll see you later at home.”
She turned to go, but Hunter caught the sleeve of her coat. “Wait—I think we’re supposed to do some extra shooting for the show today.” His gruff tone made it sound like he was accusing her of playing hooky on a test day.
Giving him a patient smile, she said, “And I’m sure Hap will be in raptures when I show up with a nationally known TV star. It’ll put the pilot, as he would say, ‘Over the top.’ Goodbye, Hunter. I’m going on my ‘date’ now, and I will see you later.”
Turning away from Hunter’s scowl, Kristal walked toward the passenger side of Larson’s luxury rental car, where he stood holding the door open for her.
He wore a quizzical smile. “Everything okay?”
“Sure. Just fine. You’re not a serial killer, are you?”
Larson barked a laugh. “No.”
“Good. Then we’re fine.”
He hesitated, shooting a quick glance to where Hunter stood glowering down at them from the porch.
“It’s just that your… friend doesn’t seem too happy.”
“Hunter’s fine,” Kristal assured him before slipping into the warm car. “He and I are like siblings. Sometimes brothers and sisters bicker.”
Clearly having overheard her intentionally loud remark, Hunter scowled and kept his eyes locked on the car until it rounded the bend out of sight.
Fourteen
Missing Lipstick
Siblings? Had Kristal really said that? Did she really see him as a brother?
Because Hunter did not see her as a sister. Never had, never would.
Watching her drive away with Larson, he took off his coat, suddenly feeling quite warm though the day was cold. Perhaps it was the acid boiling in his veins.
Hunter hadn’t met Larson Overstreet before, but of course he’d recognized him—and not just from TV.
Larson’s father was the president and CEO of one of the oldest and largest asset management firms in the country.
His mother was Corina Videau, the famous clothing designer and heir to the Vivienne Videau cosmetics fortune.
He was the heir to a double-fortune, not to mention the hefty salary he must have pulled down from his gig on national television.
No wonder his family had a “beach house” in Newport. Whereas Hunter had always been level-jumping with Kristal, this guy was firmly in her league.
She belonged with somebody like Larson—which meant Hunter couldn’t stand the idea of her spending time with him. It took all his strength not to tail them in his own car. Instead, he forced himself to go home and get some work done.
As the hours ticked on, that became more and more difficult to do. By the time darkness fell, Hunter had determined to make some changes. This intolerable situation couldn’t go on.
Pretending he didn’t want Kristal was just stupid at this point.
He gave up on work and started pacing the front of the house, keeping an eye on the windows to check for headlights pulling into the drive.
“What’s with you tonight?” Josh asked. “You’re jumpy as a jackrabbit.”
“Nothing. I’m just thinking.”
Hunter checked his phone for the umpteenth time. It was after nine p.m. They’d been together for nearly seven hours now. How many sights was she going to show him anyway?
And then he thought about what kind of sights she might be showing Larson Overstreet and nearly threw the phone against the wall.
Finally, a car pulled into the driveway and stopped in front of the house. Hunter’s shoulders sagged in relief.
But Kristal didn’t get out of the car right away. Instead, it sat running, the headlights on, but the passenger cabin remaining dark.
What was going on? Were they making plans for another date?
Was he kissing her?
Hunter went to the front door, intending to fling it open and charge outside like a shotgun-wielding father but stopped with his hand on the doorknob.
What am I doing?
He wasn’t her father, and he wasn’t her boyfriend. He sure as heck wasn’t her “brother.” He had no right to question her relationships with other guys.
Hunter turned back around and resumed his pacing, grabbing handfuls of his hair in frustration and impatience.
“What the heck are you doing?” asked Hap.
“Kristal’s home.”
“So?” He gave Hunter a puzzled look. “Where was she?”
“She went out—with a guy.”
Hap nodded in understanding, staying silent, but Reid must have picked up on the vibe of the exchange.
“What do you care?” he asked. “It’s not like you’re dating her… wait… are you?”
Paul’s head popped up. “We had a pact. None of us is going to date her. Right?” He looked around the room for support. “Right?”
At that moment, the door opened, and Kristal breezed in. “Hello everyone,” she sang out.
As the others returned her too-cheerful greeting, Hunter studied her face. She was smiling and looked… glowy? He wasn’t sure that was a word, but whatever you called it, he didn’t like the expression of elation she wore.
And her lipstick was gone.
Incendiary jealousy exploded inside Hunter as if the room had been filled with invisible, scent-less gas and someone had lit a match. He rushed to her, getting too close, invading her personal space.
“How was your date?” he snarled. “Did you have a nice time?”
Kristal’s happy expression dropped, and her chin lifted in defiance. “As a matter of fact, we had a fantastic time.”
He hadn’t missed the pronoun change from singular to plural. So Larson Overstreet had had a good time as well. No, not good—fantastic. Which meant that he was the cause of the missing lipstick.
“Why were you gone for so long? Where did you go? What did you do with him? Did you go back to his house?” Hunter’s questions came out in rapid fire succession.
“I showed him around Newport, and then we had dinner,” she said then added, “Not that it’s any of your business.”
Before he could respond, she headed for the stairs. “Suddenly, I have a headache. I’m going to bed. Goodnight everyone.”
As she stomped up the staircase, Hunter spun away, clenching his fists and letting out an exasperated “Aaargh,” sound.
Reid held up his hands. “Don’t look at me. Who knows why they do what they do?”
Coming into the room and scrubbing one hand through his bed-head hair, Tucker looked around, blinking. “What’s going on?”
“Hunter has his panties in a wad because Kristal went on a date,” Hap explained.
“With who? Is he a bad guy or something?” Tuck asked.
“That remains to be seen,” Hunter muttered. “Hap—can you get in touch with that security expert friend of yours? That massive, ripped football player who became a Navy Seal?”
“Wilder Lowe? Sure. Why?”
“I want to hire him to look into someone.”
“A client?” Hap asked.
“Kristal’s new boyfriend,” Josh offered helpfully.
“He’s not her boyfriend,” Hunter fired back a little too harshly. And if I can find one speck of dirt on the guy, he never will be.
/> Every fiber of his being screamed the title of “boyfriend” should be his and his alone, but at the moment that possibility seemed further out of reach than it ever had been.
Ever since she’d moved in, Hunter had been watching and waiting for signs Kristal might be interested in more than a friendship with him, but after today’s events, one thing was certain—he couldn’t sit back and wait any longer.
He had to take action.
Fifteen
I Want You
Kristal lied. Not about the sightseeing and dinner part, but about the day being “fantastic.”
It hadn’t been bad. Not at all. In fact, Larson was quite entertaining, much more laid back than he seemed on the nightly news. He’d been funny, sweet, and of course he was very nice-looking.
But he wasn’t Hunter.
Fool that she was, the only blue eyes Kristal wanted to spend the evening gazing into were those amazing turquoise-shaded ones unique to the Bestia brothers.
The only voice she wanted to listen to for hours on end was Hunter’s raspy, deep scrape of masculine sound.
All day she’d thought about how sore and possessive it had sounded out on the porch of the inn as he’d forbidden her to leave and spend the day with Larson. And the way he’d acted moments ago downstairs.
Could he be jealous?
Even daring to entertain the thought made her belly swoop like the seagulls soaring and diving outside.
More likely he’d just been looking out for her the same way he fussed over all the guys in the house. They didn’t call him “Doc” for nothing. Based on the way he’d behaved around her the past few weeks, he saw her no differently than he saw them.
But what about the hungry way he’d looked at her that day when he’d accidentally walked in on her in a towel?
And the way she’d sometimes look up and catch him staring at her when they were in the house together?
Thinking about his confusing hot-and-cold behavior twisted her into complicated braids of confusion, anger, and longing.
She showered and put on her pj’s and curled up in bed with a novel, which she was failing miserably to read. She’d skimmed the same page at least three times, distracted by her whirling thoughts.
What she’d told Larson about her relationship with Hunter was so far from the truth it was laughable. She didn’t regard him as a brother. At all.
But today, he’d behaved exactly like the annoying “big brother” she’d accused him of being. In fact, Hunter had treated her like a child.
Of course, when she thought about it, how could she really blame him?
Ugh. She’d done it again. She’d made herself dependent on someone, let him take care of her, and now he thought he could control her life.
As much as she hated to admit it, it was time to go—not just away from this house but away from Rhode Island.
The thought pinched her heart, but all her job search efforts had come up empty here anyway.
When she’d told Larson about her degree, he’d mentioned several opportunities he knew of right off hand in Atlanta, and no doubt in a city that size there were bound to be many more. The real estate prices and rents were also vastly more affordable there than they were here.
Tomorrow she would start looking into the Atlanta job market and talk to Cinda about possibly crashing with her a few more days until she could arrange to move down South.
Kristal would miss all the Dwarves terribly—she’d miss Hunter beyond bearing. But she couldn’t stay here any longer. Not with the way she was feeling about him.
Pretending she didn’t care was an exercise in self-torture and becoming harder every day.
A knock at her bedroom door startled her so much Kristal dropped her book without even getting to mark her place. Nerves rattling, she crept to the door on bare feet and opened it a crack.
Hunter stood on the other side.
Judging from his expression, his mood had mellowed considerably from earlier. “Can we talk?” he asked softly.
The rattling was now a full-blown drumbeat. Kristal wouldn’t have been surprised if he could hear it. “It’s late. I’m already in my pajamas.”
“Please, Kristal. I won’t keep you long. I’m not going to be able to sleep unless I talk to you.”
“Okay.” Interesting.
She opened the door wider and stepped back. “Come in.”
He entered the room, looking around warily, as if checking to see if perhaps she’d snuck in some gang members, and they might be waiting to jump him from the shadows.
“Want to sit over there?” she pointed to the two overstuffed chairs near the large picture window.
He nodded and walked that way. Kristal noticed his fingers tensing and flexing, as if he was filled with barely suppressed energy. Hunter sat in one of the chairs, and she took the one opposite him, folding her legs to one side and beneath her. Then she waited.
“You look pretty,” was the first thing he said. Not what she was expecting.
“Um… thank you? I took off all my makeup, though, and I didn’t feel like messing with the hairdryer tonight, so I’m sure my hair looks like an unruly mop.”
“No. It’s beautiful.” In contrast to the sweet words, his voice was gruff, almost unwilling. “You’re always beautiful.”
All the air suddenly left Kristal’s chest. Hunter seemed different. And he was telling her she looked pretty. She was fairly sure he hadn’t come here just to compliment her bedtime look, though she had no idea what he did want.
Whatever it was, he certainly was serious about it.
“What’s going on, Hunter?”
He folded his lips in, rolled them out, took a breath, then locked gazes with her. “I’m sorry for the way I acted tonight—and earlier today. I was a jerk, and I apologize.”
She resumed breathing. “Okay… I appreciate you saying that.” After a hesitation, she asked, “Why were you acting like that? You’ve been strange the past few days, actually.”
His focus didn’t waver but stayed locked on her. “You don’t know?”
Kristal shook her head. When he maintained his silence, she decided to be brave and hazard a guess. “Were you… jealous? Of Larson?”
His answer was little more than a grunt. “Maybe.”
Still, warmth spread through her chest and belly, making her feel like she’d just consumed a cup of decadent hot chocolate. “I see.”
“As for acting weird the past few days… I didn’t realize I was. I’m sorry about that. I was trying to be normal.”
Hope formed in Kristal’s heart like the bud of a new rose. But she didn’t want to jump to any conclusions. She’d taken Harry’s feelings for granted and had been horribly wrong about him.
“Why did you… have to ‘try?’ Why don’t you feel completely comfortable with me?”
Hunter didn’t answer, just sat there looking at her with a tortured expression on his face, so she decided to give him a little encouragement.
“There was no reason to be jealous today, you know—if that’s how you felt. Larson and I had a nice time, but nothing happened beyond talking. There’s nothing there between us. Not like there is with… other people.”
At his sudden intense stare, Kristal clarified. “One other person, I should say.”
Hunter’s body relaxed, and the barest hint of a smile played at the edges of his lips. “Would I happen to know this lucky guy?”
She chuckled softly. For a big, muscular man he was quite a coward. Apparently he was going to make her do all the heavy lifting here.
“You might.” Taking in Hunter’s growing smile, she said. “I was honestly surprised at your reaction to Larson today. I really didn’t think you’d care if I went out with someone.”
“I cared,” he said simply.
A sense of wonderment filled her. Was it possible she and Hunter had been living together these past few weeks, right under each other’s noses, and they’d each been feeling the same way but hiding it from
the other?
“Why did you pretend not to?” she managed to whisper.
He shifted in his seat, glancing away at the dark window. “I didn’t think you’d want me to care. We’re… different.”
“We’re not so different. Unless you mean that you’re a smashing success, and I’m basically a homeless failure.”
Instead of laughing at her joke, Hunter frowned. “You’re not a failure. Why would you say that?”
She counted off the evidence on her fingers. “Underemployed, bumming rides, oh, and sponging off my high school buddies for a place to stay. I promise I’ll be out of your hair soon.”
Hunter’s face went through a series of expressions, landing on irritation. He stood abruptly. “I should go. Like you said, it’s late. I wanted to apologize, and I did, so I should let my buddy get some sleep.”
Kristal stood as well. “Wait a minute—that’s it?”
“Yeah. I can apologize again if that’s what you want.”
“No, Hunter.”
She moved around the low coffee table and went to stand directly in front of him. They were so close now she had to tilt her head back to see his face.
“That is not what I want. And I don’t believe that’s why you knocked on my door tonight. What I want is for you to tell me what you’re thinking. You would never talk to me back in high school, but we’re adults now, and I think we can manage to discuss our feelings like adults.”
He stared down at her, his gaze shifting from her eyes to her mouth and back again. But he said nothing.
What was she doing? Not fifteen minutes earlier, she’d made up her mind to move out of state, to go wherever she had to go, do whatever she had to do to take care of herself and stand on her own two feet.
Now here she was, essentially begging Hunter for crumbs of hope and affection—something he was either unable or unwilling to give.
Frustrated, she threw her hands out to the sides. “Fine. You’re right. It’s late. And I need to get some sleep because I’ll have a busy day tomorrow applying for jobs in Atlanta.”
