by Lexi Hart
One Wild Weekend with Hunter
#2 One Wild Weekend with Series
© Lexi Hart 2019
All Rights Reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission in writing from the author, except brief quotations in critical articles, news articles, and reviews.
Lexi Hart writes standalone romance stories filled with humor, buff alpha males and feisty women with enough heat to sizzle off the pages.
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Table of Contents
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1.
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3.
Chapter 4.
Chapter 5.
Chapter 6.
Chapter 7.
Chapter 8.
Chapter 9.
Chapter 10.
Chapter 11.
Chapter 12.
Chapter 13.
Chapter 14.
Chapter 15.
Chapter 16.
About the Author
Thanks once again to Mandy Casey for helping to make this book the best it could be.
Chapter 1.
Friday 3.47pm
Natalie
I place my hands on the steering wheel and slump against my seat, frowning at the result of two years worth of neglect.
Out past the log cabin, the mountains are tipped with snow, lush pine trees go on for miles, and a sprinkling of wildflowers dot the hills with color.
Despite my travel weariness and the enormity of the task ahead, it’s impossible to dismiss the rugged beauty of what used to be my favorite place to visit.
I love that it’s still wild, untameable, and unchangeable when everything else in my life has spiraled into chaos.
I’m caught in my melancholy musings when my cell buzzes in my pocket. As soon as I see my sister’s name, I know Jemma is going to let me down. I slide out of my Pathfinder and scowl as I read her text.
Sure enough, she’s canceling, reneging on our plans, and leaving me to clean the cabin alone, to get it ready to sell.
I lean against my truck and scan the trees that surround the property. I should never have agreed to come all this way out here, not without someone more reliable to clean.
I had enough going on in my own life; I hardly needed all this to deal with alone too.
I yank the key from my pocket, grumbling all the way to the front door, sidestepping pinecones and fallen logs.
The key grinds in the lock and I have to shove the door open with a grunt to get inside. With a sigh, I push the door open wider, and enter the cabin, flinching as memory after memory rushes over me.
My cell starts to ring, so I turn around and answer as I’m walking back to the truck. “Hey Dad.”
My father’s voice comes wheezing down the phone. “Nat? You make it up there, okay?’
He sounds worse, and I know he’s not supposed to be talking or getting upset, so I make my tone light. “I’m here. How are you feeling?”
He growls down the line. “Fine. How’s the cabin lookin?”
I wince and wonder how honest I should be. He’s hardly in the position to help. “Um, it’s pretty rough.”
He coughs. “What aren’t you saying? Lemme guess, your little sister didn’t show?”
I frown into the woods. “Something came up at work.”
My father sighs down the line. Jemma has always been the flake of the family. She takes after Mom in that respect.
“Dad, it’s okay, I have the whole weekend to get it done, it’ll be fine.”
He curses down the phone. “No, it won’t be fine. Your sister and that worthless hipster she married—”
Whatever he was planning on saying is lost as he hacks down the phone until I’m wincing. “Dad, she might still turn up.”
He snorts. “You don’t need to defend her. Let me see if I can find someone. Bob usually has a few extra hands at the end of the season.”
Another wet cough comes down the line, and I flinch. “Dad, I can manage—”
“Keep an eye out.”
He doesn’t even say goodbye, just leaves me frowning at my phone.
I lean back against my truck and gaze at the scenery, that if I weren’t so annoyed with my unreliable sister, I might actually be enjoying a little more.
I close my eyes, the sun warm against my skin as I try not to think about Jed and everything we left unsaid.
It’s been six months, and I’m still not sure why our marriage didn’t work out. Maybe it’s my fault? Maybe he was right; maybe I expected too much of him?
Whatever the reason, I need to stop obsessing and accept that chapter of my life is over and done with.
I shove my cell into my pocket and grab the bucket and mop off the back of my truck and try to figure out how long I have till the sun goes down.
I’m pretty sure there’s no electricity up here anymore. Dad would have shut it off when he got sick and knew he wouldn’t be able to make it up here for hunting season.
I drag the bucket over the floor towards the sink at the back of the cabin and screw my nose up.
Multiple spiders, some dead, and some not have decided to take up residence. I flick a rag at them in the hopes some will scutter away before I have to remove them.
I head back outside, bucket in hand, and climb down the mossy bank towards the hot springs beside the river.
Movement from across the water makes me freeze. A man has appeared from the trees and is currently gaping at me as if I’m an alien. Since it’s not hunting season and hikers usually stick to the main trails, seeing someone so close to the cabin is more than disconcerting.
Were it not for the fact he’s wearing a hiking pack and raising a hand in greeting I’d be a little more concerned.
Still, my curiosity has always outweighed my common sense, possibly why I majored in journalism, so I wave a cautious hello back to him. “Did Bob send you up here to help me clean the cabin?”
He steps across the rocks, giving me more of an opportunity to look him over. My heart leaps into my throat as he comes closer and gives me a crooked smile. “I’d be happy to help you clean.”
It’s not the answer I expected. But I’m intrigued by him. He doesn’t exactly have the build of a hiker, so he must be one of Bob’s seasonal workers that the mill attracts to the area.
He’s tall, brown eyes, stubble covering coffee colored skin dark enough to let me know he’s spent a lot of time outdoors.
He’s dressed like most guys who live around here in sturdy boots, jeans, and a plaid shirt. And like most of the guys who work around here, he’s got the strong silent thing going on.
His eyes flick up to where my truck is visible. “What do you need me to do?’
His voice is so masculine it matches his appearance so perfectly that I almost smile. “Well, I need to take water up—"
He doesn’t say a word just grabs the bucket so he can dip it in the water. His shirt tightens around his arms and shoulders, giving me a good idea of solid muscle that lurks under his clothes.
When he’s righted himself and squinting at me, I extend my hand to my helper. “I’m Natalie.”
The slightest of smiles flickers at his lips, and my stomach flips about like I’m a giggly teenager again.
He accepts my hand but doesn’t grip too tightly like he knows how strong he is and doesn’t want to hurt me. “Hunter.”
My eyes pop open as I have to cover my choked laugh. “Is that a nickname?”
He doesn’t let go of my hand, just holds my g
aze until fire starts to spread over my face.
I pull away and clear my throat as he tilts his head and frowns at me. “It’s as real as I am. Why?”
Because it’s insanely sexy and fits you perfectly.
“Oh, just you know, you kind of look like you hunt up here. It’s kind of ironic.”
The corners of his lips twitch. “I do some hunting from time to time. A man’s gotta eat.”
I nearly groan aloud. Is he serious? Or is purposely trying to be ironic?
He adjusts his backpack and climbs, holding the bucket, his eyes on me like he’s worried I might fall.
Did my father put Bob up to this? Is he trying to set me up on some weird blind date?
Hunter follows me inside and puts the bucket down as he takes off his pack and scans the room. “Where do you want me to start?”
I don’t know why, but my cheeks start to heat. “Um, I was planning on starting in the kitchen. I wanted to get in a couple of hours before it gets dark.”
His eyes find mine again as he nods. “Okay,” is all he says.
I stare at his back as he crosses the room and finds the brush I dropped. Without a word, he starts removing the spiders from the sink and starts to scrub the filth away.
He catches me looking at him but doesn’t say anything just carries on getting rid of the creepy crawlies I was loath to touch.
I leave him to it and head back outside. A shiver runs down my spine as I stalk back to the truck and get the rest of the cleaning supplies.
I grab the bucket and brush meant for my sister and make another trip to the spring. By the time I get back to the cabin, he’s finished the sink and has started sweeping the floor.
He doesn’t ask me any questions, just works solidly, leaving the cabin only to empty and refill his bucket.
By the time the floor is clear, and the light is pretty much gone, we’ve achieved more than I thought possible.
I stand at the doorway to survey what still needs to be done tomorrow, and what supplies I’ll need to bring.
I haven’t even looked inside the bedrooms and tiny bathroom yet, but the living area looks almost habitable again.
I start to say we can call it a day when Hunter picks up a sponge and starts to scrub at the windows.
I stare at his broad back, chewing my lip and wondering how I can politely say I’m exhausted and want to leave.
“Um, Hunter, thanks so much for your help, I think we can call it a day.”
He spins around, his forehead knotted as though he’s disappointed I’m quitting so early. “You aren’t sleeping here then?”
I almost laugh, but he seems sincere, so I jam my hands in my jean pockets and shake my head. “I have a hotel room in the valley.”
He scans the room, posture, and expression tense, leaving me even more bewildered. “I can stay a few more hours. I don’t have anywhere to be.”
Surprise makes my eyes pop a little wider. “I can’t leave you here working on your own, besides there isn’t any light.”
He gestures to his backpack at the door. “I have a flashlight.”
I start to protest, but he sets his shoulders. “I can keep working and have most of it done by the time you wake up.”
I stare at him, trying to work out if he’s some loon, or whether he just likes the quiet as much as I do. Either way, the intensity he’s staring at me with is unsettling.
There isn’t anything to steal up here, and if he was going to attack me, it’s a fair bet he would have by now.
Without anyone else to help me, it would be silly to turn him down.
I clear my throat and manage to sound halfway unaffected by him. “What about food? I’m not sure what blankets and bedding we have still.”
He shrugs. “I’m used to roughing it, and I brought food with me.”
I’m still undecided, but he’s already across the room and opening his backpack and digging around in it.
I blow out a breath, taking in the enormous amount of work still left, and relent that maybe Hunter is just the man I need to get it all done.
“Okay. But I’ll bring you breakfast. Coffee? Donuts?”
He smiles up at me from where he’s crouching. “That be great.”
I should be more concerned than I am at leaving a stranger up here. But since the land is worth more than the cabin, if he trashed the place or set it on fire, he’d probably be doing us all a favor.
I leave him to it, hoping that my gut isn’t steering me wrong. I usually have good instincts as far as judging character. Aside from thinking Jed was as invested in our marriage as I was, so far I’ve yet to be proven wrong.
It’s dark by the time I arrive at my hotel room. I smother a yawn, muscles aching as I slide the key in the door and stumble towards the bathroom.
I strip off my filthy clothes, step into the shower and scrub at my body, and try to dig the dirt out from under my nails.
I dress in my robe and grab the menu ready to order room service. As I read through the menu, the strangest sensation of guilt tickles at me that Hunter is still working hard while I’m not.
When my stomach rumbles noisily, and I tell myself I’m being ridiculous, I pick up the phone and guiltily order a cheeseburger and fries.
After making a mental note to get him the best pastries they have in town, I sit on the bed, my cell in hand as I ring Dad back to tell him about how helpful Hunter is.
When there’s no answer, and there’s a knock at my door, I place my phone to one side and get ready to demolish my dinner.
The room service is delivered by a lanky youth who sends me a leery smile as I tip him. “Thanks. Anything else I can get you?”
I force a smile, one hand already on the door as I pull it open. “No, thank you.”
He looks decidedly disappointed but leaves me alone with the TV and the smell of grease.
I settle on the bed with my tray and eat while I look for an old movie. When I can’t find anything to watch apart from mindless garbage, I give up.
With a yawn, I stumble to the bathroom and brush my teeth before sliding under my heavily starched sheets.
Chapter 2.
Hunter
Friday 7.28pm
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have let her think I know Bob, whoever the fuck he is. I shouldn’t have offered to stay. But it’s been a while since I had a solid roof over my head, and since she wasn’t staying, it seemed a waste of an opportunity.
I sink down to my haunches and chew some beef jerky, thinking over my options.
This spot is like an oasis for a guy like me. It’s almost a shame she’s coming back tomorrow morning, I could have stayed a little longer.
I could have used the hot springs again, set up camp, borrowed a little more of her firewood, fished in the river. None of that is possible if she’s planning on being here too.
Not that I’d mind hanging out with a hot redhead with killer curves for a couple of days.
The thought stops me cold. Is that why I’m sticking around? Am I hoping something is going to happen? I lean my head back against the wall and laugh at how stupid I am.
She didn’t mention a boyfriend or a husband, but it’s not much of a stretch to think if she had one he’d be up here with her.
With nothing else to do apart from wonder why Natalie was okay with leaving me here, I carry on working until my eyelids are drooping.
I check the rest of the cabin before I decide to risk sleeping on the plastic covered mattress in the larger of the two bedrooms.
I grab my pack, make sure the door and window are closed and try to grab some sleep before she arrives either with coffee or with Bob.
It’s too late to do anything about it now, and since technically cleaning a woman’s house isn’t a crime, there’s no sense moving on until she or someone else tells me to.
I yawn, switch off my flashlight and fall asleep trying not to think about a woman who under normal circumstances wouldn’t give me the time of day.
<
br /> THE SUN IS CREEPING through the streaked window when I hear her arrive. I gave up wearing a watch, so I can only guess at the time from the height of the sun in the sky.
I pull myself up to sitting, rolling my shoulders back as the smell of coffee wafts towards me.
A smile twitches at my mouth. Coffee. No angry dude called Bob, then?
I yank my shirt over my head and rub the sleep from my eyes as I pull the door closed.
She’s standing beside the table, coffee in each hand, wearing the same molded jeans, boots and t-shirt from yesterday, her hair is tied back, red strands escaping around her forehead and temple.
Her blue eyes lock on to mine as she gestures around the cabin with the coffee cup. “You’ve done so much. How late did you stay up?”
I shrug and take the coffee from her hand. “I have no idea.”
She shakes her head. “Wow. Okay, well, Hunter, what you’ve done, it’s amazing.”
Her feet edge a little closer as I test out the coffee she’s brought me. She pulls a face as I drink. “Is that okay? I’m kind of a black coffee drinker, but most people I know take cream and sugar.”
I’ve barely taken a sip when she’s holding out hers. “You can take mine. After everything you did...”
I shake my head. “This is fine. I don’t have strong feelings about coffee.”
Her brow knots together, blue eyes popping a little. “Do you know how refreshing that is to hear? Everyone I know has a strong opinion on everything these days.”
I chuckle, and she seems to remember she brought more than coffee. She reaches around to grab the brown paper bag on the table. “I took a gamble and got three for you.”
I accept the bag, while she looks uncertain like I’m planning on rejecting her choice, so I grab the first donut I see and jam it into my mouth. “I have no strong preference on donuts either,” I say between mouthfuls.
She chuckles, low and throaty. “You don’t say? What do you have strong feelings about?”
I shrug. “Things that matter.”
The smile disappears from her face, and she frowns at her coffee. “The problem is that people don’t always agree on what matters.”
