Too Much to Lose

by Holt, Samantha

  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 sitting 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.

  “He left years ago. Haven’t seen him since we moved from Ireland.”

  Why can’t I keep my mouth shut? I don’t know why but I hunger to find out more about Hunter. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—my parents are dead too,” I spill out as if that will somehow comfort him.

  “You want to see it?”

  I snap my head up. “What?”

  “The bike.”

  Relieved he’s given us a way out of this awkwardness, I nod eagerly. “Definitely.”

  He leads me through the kitchen and out the back of the house to the garage. “Do you ride?” he asks as he opens the garage to reveal a gleaming black Harley.

  “Wow.” I shake my head. “No, but I had a few, uh, boyfriends who did.”

  There’s a slight smile on his face and I see how much he loves the bike. Stepping into the garage, I skim my hand over the leather seat. The bike looks a little old but well cared for.

  “Used to be my dad’s. A Harley Sportser. Mam had it shipped over from Ireland. Not sure why. Guess she wanted to keep something of him with her.”

  “It’s beautiful.” I come around to stand behind the black motorbike and when I look up, he holds me prisoner with his gaze, something he seems to do a lot.

  The proud smile is gone and in the dim light of the garage, his expression could almost be considered menacing. A furrowed brow and penetrating eyes suck the breath from me. He flicks his gaze from me to the bike and back again.

  “Hunter…” I start, fumbling for a way to break the intensity.

  “You want to go for a ride?”

  “What?”

  “A ride?”

  “Well, I…”

  “We’ll grab some breakfast on the way. You’ll be safe with me, I promise.”

  The man doesn’t give up easily that’s for sure. And while I trust him with my life, I’m not sure I trust him with my heart. My ex, Pete, taught me the hard way that even those you love don’t always accept you for who you are. After losing my job, my home and my friends, I can’t go through that again. And this time there is more at stake. I have a proper job and an apartment instead of drifting from hostel to hostel. Christ, I even spent time on the streets when I had to outrun my past. I just can’t do it again.

  Hunter edges closer, breaking my thoughts. I gaze up at him and see only sincerity. His eyes spellbind me, the blue of them dark in the shadows and the green bit almost black. How can I say no to this man?

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Wait here.” He turns sharply and stalks across the garage.

  God, the man is so unpredictable. It’s hard to tell what he’s going to do next. I’ve never met a man so complex or confusing. Or fascinating. He lives in a house that is trapped in a time warp, he clearly cared deeply for his mother, he reveals little about himself but tells me how attracted he is to me without any preamble. Brash honesty combined with an air of mystery. I long to figure him out.

  I run a hand over the leather seat again and imagine him riding it. I won’t have to picture him soon enough but I know this is him. Where he belongs. Maybe I’ll be one step closer to understanding him after this. I imagine being on a bike is about control for him. His take charge attitude appeals to me, I have to admit. There’s only so much independence a girl needs. Sometimes it would be nice to rely on someone else to make the decisions.

  Hunter returns to my side and I shudder as a thrill makes itself known.

  “You cold?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  He eyes me and thrusts a leather jacket and helmet at me. “You’ll need these. The jacket might be a bit big.” He glances down. “At least your trousers will do.”

  I finally take notice of what he’s wearing. Leather, a black T-shirt and more leather. Seriously? My knees threaten to give way completely. Then he helps me peel off my thin jacket and shrug into the leather one. It feels soft and well worn. His fingers skim my shoulder and I tighten my muscles so I don’t shudder again. The tangy scent of leather and Hunter encompasses me and my mouth dries. I stand, frozen while he does the jacket up as if I’m a helpless child. He takes the helmet from my limp fingers, swipes a finger over my nose and places the helmet on.

  “What do you want to eat?”

  I lift a shoulder. You. Shit, where did that come from? “I don’t mind.”

  “We’ll pick something up and find somewhere nice to sit and eat.”

  “Sounds good.”

  My stomach twists, not from hunger, but from anxiety and excitement. Is this a date? It feels like it. I try to remind myself I have no interest in dating but apparently my limbs don’t get the message as they follow Hunter while he wheels the bike out and motions for me to climb up behind him. I snap shut the visor of the helmet, fill my lungs with a deep breath and get on. The engine thrums between my legs, the smell of oil and leather surrounds me.

  We leave behind the busy streets and head north. The rush of wind and the vibration of the bike is exhilarating. I grin as Hunter takes us out onto a main road and we pick up speed. I haven’t ridden a bike in so long but even my past experiences pale. Hunter’s torso beneath my hands and the confident way he handles the motorbike makes the experience a million times better. The man is so in control.

  We stop briefly at a drive-through and he hands me the bag of warm food. I put it between us, careful not to squash it as he starts the bike again. I have no idea where he’s taking me and for once, I don’t care. I don’t care about anything apart from the buzz of freedom and Hunter. He slows down and brings the bike into a parking lot. I glance around and realize we’re on Parliament Hill, overlooking the city. It’s quiet for a Sunday, probably because the weather hasn’t warmed up enough yet, but there’s a few dog walkers and families strolling across the hill.

  Hunter climbs off and offers me a hand. Once I’m standing in front of him, he unclasps my helmet and pulls it off. I let him. It feels like the most natural thing, to allow him to take the lead. It’s so nice not to have to take responsibility for everything in my life for a change.

  I run my hands over my hair and grin at him, then pause and drop my hand. Still holding the helmets in one hand, he leans forward. I tilt my head and his solemn expression makes the air in my lungs stutter. His lips meet mine in a rush but this kiss is gentle. It twists my heart.

  I should be fighting this but it’s impossible. He’s like no one I’ve ever met. Cocky, confident, in command. And totally straight forward. I love how he lays things down. There’s no games with him. He wants me as much as I want him. After so long being alone, hiding, I’m weak against his onslaught.

  Fingers tangling in his hair, I relax into him. A primitive sound from him sends thrills skittering through me and I part my lips, give him access. My legs judder when his tongue touches mine. He must still be ho
lding the helmets as he doesn’t touch me. I’m dying for his hands on my skin, but at the same time, I’m grateful not to be distracted by his touch. It’s too electrifying. This way I can twine my fingers through the softness of his dark hair and trace down the back of his neck. I luxuriate in the strength of those shoulders and bring my palms to his chest. His heart pounds against my hand, strong and sure, echoing the qualities I admire in him.

  “Hunter,” I whisper when he pulls back briefly.

  It breaks the spell. He jolts and rips his mouth fully from mine. We stand close enough that I could go on tiptoes and be connected once more, but the conflict in his blue eyes prevents me. Several breaths pass between us before he draws away completely and I miss the heat of him against my hands.

  “Sorry,” he says gruffly. “I told you you’d be safe with me.”

  Should I be grateful he broke things off? Yes. But I can’t be. No one has ever kissed me like that. I want more. I thought I’d learned my lesson with my ex but clearly not.

  “You said I’d be safe,” I remind him. “You didn’t say you wouldn’t kiss me.”

  His lips tilt and he eyes me from under his brow. The miasma of colours in his eyes holds me captive.

  “I told myself I wouldn’t.”

  “Why?”

  Hunter studies me and turns abruptly. “Christ,” he mutters. Placing the helmets on the Harley, he faces me. “Let’s find somewhere to eat.” He points to a bench nearby. “That will do.”

  Coldness eats into me, a knot gathers inside. Why didn’t he want to kiss me? He’s the one who has pressed and cajoled me into spending time with him and now he’s regretting kissing me? Have I pushed him away somehow? Perhaps he believes I don’t want to be kissed. After all, he kissed me first last time and I’ve been pretty reluctant. I snort inwardly. I’m fickle. Now he’s turned off the heat, I want more. I thought I was better than that.

  I follow him to the bench like a little lost puppy, feeling foolish. His rejection has dented my pride, for sure. We sit and he hands me the muffin. I unpeel it and when he takes the wrapper from me to chuck it in the trash next to us, I bristle.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I swear he is too observant. “Nothing.”

  “Doesn’t a woman only say ‘nothing’ when something is wrong?”

  I swivel to face him. “I don’t need you babying me. I know I must seem pretty helpless to you. Can’t even look after myself while suffering with a migraine, but I’m not really….”

  His twisted smile drops. “I know you’re not. I don’t mean to, princess. Guess it’s in my nature. I won’t make any excuses for that.”

  Now I feel an idiot. He shouldn’t have to make excuses for taking care of me. I should be apologizing for behaving like an angsty teenager.

  “It’s okay, I just… I’m not used to it, that’s all.”

  “I can see that, Jess. If it helps, I think you’re a pretty tough woman. I just can’t help wanting to take care of you.”

  How does he make me go from turned on, to pissed off, to mushy inside in the space of five minutes? For want of anything to say, I bite into the breakfast muffin. I stare at the city below, imagine the pollution and the heavy traffic, the tourists crowding the streets and the noise. Up here, with Hunter, it’s a world away. I like the excitement of living in London most of the time—it’s far removed from the small town I grew up in—but sometimes it feels too big for me. It seemed like the best place to get lost and I knew it a little from having worked in a couple of studios here, but I’m not sure it will ever feel like home.

  However, here and now, I’m more comfortable than I’ve been in years. Is it the setting or the company? Who am I kidding? We finish up our food in silence—all awkwardness gone. I have no idea what I’m doing here. Is it a date? Two friends who just happen to keep kissing each other?

  Hunter throws his wrapper in the bin, leans back and stretches his arm across the bench behind me. I can’t resist a smile at the cheesy move.

  “You back to work tomorrow?” he asks.

  “Yeah.” I hold back a sigh. Back to normal. Back to working all hours. This break from my normal routine might be nice but it can’t last. I can’t help thinking I should make the most of it. Enjoy a few hours with Hunter then gently tell him that’s it for us. I’ve got too much on my plate, I’ll say.

  His fingers rest lightly on my shoulder. How I can feel them through the thick leather jacket, I don’t know, but I could swear they are burning through it. “You never did say why you called.”

  “When?”

  “When I had my migraine?”

  “Oh, uh, looking for some advice I guess.”

  “I’ll do my best to help, you know. I wouldn’t want you to lose your mum’s house.”

  His Adam’s apple works and he remains silent for a moment. “Banking, huh? What made you choose that?”

  Warmth seeps into my face. “It sounds geeky but I’m good with numbers. I didn’t know what else to do and there’s always jobs in banking. The accounting course wasn’t too long or expensive so I decided to go for it.”

  “Sounds like you have it all figured out.” He glances at me, that odd half smile on his lips—the one that confuses the hell out of me.

  “I don’t think I have anything figured out. I wish I did.”

  “I don’t think anyone does.” He snorts. “I sure don’t.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “What do you mean?” He turns to face me.

  “You’re so in control. I bet you’ve always known exactly where you’re going and what you’re doing.”

  Hunter stares at me for a moment, gaze boring into mine. The oddest glimmer of uncertainty flickers in his gaze, but he releases a low chuckle. “I used to think I was in control but recently… I’m not so sure. Don’t forget I’m close to losing my home.”

  Guilt strikes me. It doesn’t matter that I’m not the one taking his house from him. I hope I can do something to help. He’s a good man. Hunter definitely doesn’t deserve to lose everything.

  “So what did you want to do as a kid if you didn’t want to be a…” He waves his hand looking for a word.

  “Customer Adviser.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t know. Lawyer, writer, teacher, cop... tooth fairy,” I add with a grin.

  “I could see you in a little tutu.” He shakes his head.

  “What?”

  “Let’s just say I never thought I’d be fantasizing about the tooth fairy.”

  “F-fantasizing?”

  His chest heaves, as if surrendering to something. “Yeah. Goddamn, what are you doing to me, Jess?” Hunter twists to face me fully, the hand on my shoulder eases me closer and sweeps aside a strand of hair from my face.

  Rough fingertips on my forehead stop me from breathing, but someone cycles past and it’s over. His hand hovers not far from my cheek and he curls it into a fist before dropping it to his side. I tamp down the disappointment. Just because I want to enjoy my day with Hunter, doesn’t mean I want him to spend the whole day kissing me—well, maybe I do—but I don’t need to make saying goodbye to him any harder than it already will be.

  I stare at my hands, embarrassed by how pathetic I am—how pathetic I must seem. Imagine what he must think. Jess is so lonely, so tragic she’ll take any attention she can get. I guess I can’t blame him for trying to be noble. Who’d want to kiss me anyway?

  “So... tooth fairy, huh?”

  “Yeah….”

  “What did your parents think of that?”

  I shrug. “My memories are pretty fuzzy—mostly limited to holidays and stuff like that.”

  “What about your… guardians?”

  “I…” I peer at him. “What does it matter?”

  “It’s your past isn’t it, princess? It matters.”

  With a shake of my head, I manage not to fall prey to the compelling look in his eyes. I’ve had too many close calls with Hunter and he definitely know
s too much about me already. “None of it matters.”

  “It does to me.”

  I lean back against the bench and admire the view. “Hunter, you’re a real rarity, you know that?”

  I close my eyes and savour his laugh. He might be curious about my past but as far as I’m concerned, it’s better where it is. I won’t be sharing any of the sordid details with him any time soon. For today, I’m just a normal girl and he is… well, he’s Hunter, and it’s a beautiful Sunday and I’m going to enjoy it, just this once.

  Chapter Eight

  Hunter

  By late afternoon, I still have nothing from her. Every time I think she’s going to open up to me, she clams up. We shared a late lunch in a café on the outskirts of the city. The atmosphere was too intimate for my liking but perfect for persuading her to tell me everything. Every time she crossed her legs, they brushed mine and it took all my willpower to keep from throwing her over my shoulder and taking her home to ravish her. I scrape a hand through my hair as we wait for a car to pass before walking over to my bike in the busy car park. Some investigator I am. I probably could have got more from her if I hadn’t been thinking about how much I wanted to kiss her again.

  And I should never have done it in the first place. I don’t even know what came over me. She took off the helmet and excitement blazed in her eyes, the thrill of the ride coursed through her veins just as it did mine. With her hair mussed, her lips parted, she looked like perfection and I was lost. I have this God-awful feeling she’s the same as me. Focused, determined, yet loves the buzz of freedom. A crazy concoction. A compelling, irresistible one.

  Fuck.

  I help her with the helmet, unable to resist. She beams at me. Those green eyes sparkle and guilt swirls in my gut. Crazy, maybe, but also totally guileless. And growing more open with every second. I smirk to myself as I put on my own helmet. Poor girl. No idea I’m out to screw her over. She’s put all this effort into hiding and I’m planning to blow it wide open. I scowl. When did I start feeling sorry for her?