by Caz May
During the days when Hunter had been out busy on the farm I'd washed all the curtains and cleaned the farmhouse from top to bottom, until it was sparkling.
It was the least I could do for him, after he'd let me into his home, no questions asked.
He rushes back out to the verandah, leaning on the door frame, "Did you really do all that? For me?”
Come on Savannah, say something, talk to him.
Again, the words are tumbling in my head, but my tongue won't cooperate, stuck to the roof of my mouth.
Instead I nod as if that’s enough to express what I want to say to him.
"Oh Savannah, thank you. You honestly have no idea how much I appreciate it,” he says so sincerely my heart leaps in my chest.
Show me how much. No don't, oh God please don't.
He bends down to hug me in thanks and in response I stand up to wrap my arms around him further, again melting into his embrace.
I hate admitting to myself that I've missed him being around the last few days, but I have and again the electric tension between us sizzles.
We seem to constantly be caught in these moments together and every time my wall is breaking down little by little.
Without a doubt I will give into Hunter Mackenney, sooner or later.
(20) Hunter
Savannah has no idea how much I'd appreciated her cleaning up the farmhouse.
She'd made it feel even more like a home than it honestly had in years and that wasn't just from her cleaning efforts but her presence.
Every day that passes made me want her more and she has no idea the little things she’s doing that are driving me wild with longing.
Every time she wraps her arms around me in a hug, melting against me, it takes more and more willpower to not kiss her senseless, to take her pain away and turn it to pleasure.
I want her so much, it feels like it’s killing me slowly, softly.
From her busy days, making the farmhouse spotless, she hasn't taken care of herself though and she looks a little ragged, although even with her hair dishevelled and the dirty old clothes she’s still incredibly gorgeous.
As a way to thank her, I run her a bath, filled high with lavender scented bubbles.
She hasn't come in from the porch, so popping my head out the door I beckon her inside with a finger. Reluctantly she stands up and I grab her hand to lead her down the hallway to the bathroom.
Gesturing towards the bath I speak, my voice coming out husky, "For you gorgeous as a thank you."
A joyous smile lights up her face, a smile that makes my heart pound in my chest.
I’m not sure if I actually mean to stand there or even if she knows I’m still standing in the doorway but she begins to undress, not quite facing me.
Firstly, she puts her fingers in the waistband of her track pants edging them down her legs and I close my eyes for second, knowing I shouldn't be looking at her undressing but I’m not able to help myself from looking either.
Underneath the track pants she slipped down her legs she has on lace underwear that doesn't leave a whole lot to the imagination.
Now realising I’m standing in the doorway she turns to face me, smirking slightly as she starts to lift her t-shirt over her head before clumsily trying to cover herself and shoo me out of the room at the same time.
I'd seen enough to see my fantasies of being with her fulfilled for the next week anyway so shutting the door behind me I head to the kitchen.
I know she'd tried to cover herself as I walk out because underneath the t-shirt she had cheekily not worn a bra.
God I want her so damn much
But I can’t take any step at making her mine, at least not yet.
She’s still so vulnerable, some bruises and scars still evident on her body from whatever terrible trauma she’d been through.
It pains me to think about how she got them and how much hurt she had endured.
I want to take all the pain away and tell her she would never endure pain like that with me.
Blitz is on his bed when I enter the kitchen and he looks up at me like he knows something is up with me.
It fascinates me how dogs have a way of sensing emotions.
He knows what I’m feeling, and I’m glad he’s there to admit it to, as I sure as hell can't tell Savannah yet.
Bending down to pat him, I say the words out loud that I'd been thinking for weeks, "I'm falling in love with her."
It feels good to acknowledge how I’m feeling, but I want to show her how I feel, which I obviously can’t do.
Flopping down on the couch with a beer I flick on the TV to try and distract myself from thinking about Savannah naked in my bathtub just down the hall.
There is nothing decent to watch, as usual, so the feeling of my phone buzzing in my pocket is a welcome distraction.
Digging it out I gaze in disbelief at name flashing on my screen.
I really don't want to talk to her but she will keep calling if I don't answer so reluctantly I accept the call, swiping my finger across the screen.
"Hi Addison, what's up?" I ask, trying to sound happy that she’s called.
"I spoke to Quentin about Savannah the other day,” she declares like it’s the biggest news to face the world as we know it.
"And you're telling me this because?"
"I thought you'd like to know that he's trying to find out about her husband."
I scoff.
What she’s telling me isn't news to me and it isn't why she called either, only a fool would think that.
"I'm aware of that Addison. You forget Quentin is my brother."
She laughs. “And Hunter, you know she's out of the hospital yeah?"
"Yeah she's staying with me,” I say, taking a sip of beer, waiting for her response.
"What? Zane didn't tell me that,” She spits down the phone, obviously shocked.
"Yeah long story. So Addison?"
"Yeah?" she says with a hint of guilt in her voice.
"Is that why you really called me?"
She sighs. I'd caught her out.
"No."
I knew it.
”So really why did you call then?" I tease.
"I miss you Hunter. And I can't stop thinking about our kiss in the medicine storage room the other day."
Oh yeah, that horrible kiss that i’d not spent even one minute thinking about it, until she'd brought it up just now I'd literally erased it from my mind.
"Oh right yeah. Um Addison I honestly don't know what you want me to say."
"Oh I don't know Hunter, something. I still fucking love you."
Oh for fucks sake!
I don't need to hear it from her again, the same old excuse of still loving me, as usual she’s too late in admitting her feelings.
She could have told me she loved me a year ago instead of refusing my proposal and running away.
I don't answer her.
I have nothing to say to her, nothing she would be happy to hear anyway.
Hanging up the phone I throw it down on the couch beside me, downing the rest of my beer.
The sound of water exiting the bathtub reverberates through the walls and jumping up quickly I throw the beer can in the recycling by the kitchen bench and dash to my bedroom, so Savannah won’t see me.
It’s going to be another night of no sleep, this time thinking wicked thoughts about Savannah.
(21) Savannah
Hunter Mackenney had literally not left my mind for barely a moment since he’d entered my life, or more so since I’d entered his life.
He was incredibly sweet and patient with me and so thoughtful.
Sitting in the bath he ran for me I giggle thinking back to the look he had on his gorgeous face, when I caught him staring at me as I undressed.
Consciously I covered myself but he'd already seen me.
The look on his face gave that away, the devilish dimpled smirk that sent desire rushing through me.
Soaking in the bath is abs
olute bliss, the water and bubbles have never felt so divine.
I run my hands over my skin, washing away the dirt from my cleaning efforts, but also subconsciously I know I’m washing away the pain of my past.
There’s nothing more I want than to open up to Hunter and tell him what I’d left behind.
He’s making me feel so vulnerable and I really want to let my guard down, to let him in to help me heal from the emotional damage.
Escaping from Dante I'd built a wall around my heart and tried to move on by making myself someone else, but I hadn’t planned on meeting anyone, let alone someone like Hunter who is so genuine.
I know it won't be fair to him if he doesn't know the real me.
I get a feeling he’s falling in love with me, as I am falling for him, but until I can open my mouth to tell him my past nothing can happen between us. He needs to know the person I left behind, not the facade of Savannah Galison.
Climbing out of the bath, I pull the plug to release the water. The sound of the water exiting through the pipes practically shakes the whole farmhouse.
Wrapping a fluffy towel around my body, I step up to the door clutching the door handle listening out to see if Hunter is still up.
A slight crash sound drifts down the hallway, before the shuffling of feet and the bang of a door closing.
It’s safe to say he's gone to bed, so wearing only the towel I tip toe down the hall to my room, the guest room.
It doesn't feel right calling it my room.
I don't live here.
I’m a guest in Hunter's home.
In the room I rub the towel over my body to dry my skin, flinching when I press too hard on some of my bruises that haven't quite healed.
Hunter would have seen them and is probably thinking about where I got them from, and where I got the large scar from my breasts to my hips, if he’d seen it in the dim light of the bathroom.
The day I got that scar was one of the most painful of my life to date, other than waking up in the back of my car bleeding from my miscarriage.
That was painful for sure but it was what had led me to be in this room and in some ways I’m glad it happened, because it is maybe going to be time for my happy ending.
Slowly I dress in some cotton knickers and a granny nightie.
There wasn't a lot of nice, young clothing choices in the hospital lost and found, most likely because they came from lovely old ladies who had passed on.
Tears are stinging my eyes and I brush them away with my arm, cursing myself for thinking about being happy.
How dare I think about happiness?
Dante had always told me that I didn't deserve happiness. To him my sole purpose was to make him happy. The only way I would ever find happiness was to escape and be on my own.
But since stumbling into this house, Hunter’s home, I don't want to be on my own.
I want to be with Hunter Mackenney and that is both scary and dangerous, as something gives me the feeling that Dante is coming for me.
He isn't the type to let go without a fight.
(22) Quentin
Shuffling through the papers about Savannah, otherwise known as the mystery woman is useless.
The only thing I have to go on with the case is the registration of the car and the only details that gave me were the make of the car and the owner's name.
A search on him didn't render any results either, so it appears he has no criminal past to speak of.
It makes me wonder though especially after my conversation with Addison a week ago.
~~
Entering the hospital, I try to breath deeply to calm the pounding of my heart.
It’s been about a year since I'd seen Addison and I should have hated her for breaking my big brothers heart, but I was still pining after her.
She'd never shown me any affection, no matter how much I flirted with her.
Still, stupidly, I kept chasing her, probably because she was the one girl I couldn't get, even after she broke up with Hunter.
I'd always wondered if she didn't want me because my reputation was one of the heartbreaker, too flirtatious for my own good and not one to settle into a relationship.
But what she didn't know was how I felt about her. I don't think she honestly knew how much I'd always wanted her and that if I had her I'd never look at another girl again. I didn't know whether that knowledge would change her mind about me.
To block out my feelings though I'd pretty much gone after every girl that showed any interest in me, and getting involved in other things
I shouldn't have, which essentially hadn't gotten me anywhere, as here I am still single, pining after a girl I’ve loved since high school.
Stepping up to the nurses desk announcing my presence, the receptionist is a little taken aback, "Hello Maggie."
"Oh, Quentin, hello,” she coos at me, her voice a few octaves higher than normal.
"Shocked to see me huh?" I say flirtatiously, before cursing myself.
God, have some dignity Quentin, she could be your mother.
"Well, um the Sergeants already been in, thats all."
"Yeah I'm aware of that Maggie. I'm here to see Addison actually."
"Oh, um I'll page her for you,” she says, giving me a knowing wink, that makes me cringe.
Maggie, the old biddy must have a dirty mind.
Admittedly I most certainly do, and sitting down in one of the chairs along the wall whilst waiting for Addison my mind wanders to devilish thoughts about finally making her mine.
My thoughts are interrupted by the click clack of her high heels on the floor.
A smile spreads across my face at the sound. I’d often fantasied about fucking her with just those on and nothing else.
I know she's seen me when she blurts out, "Quentin Mackenney, aren't you a sight for sore eyes."
I stand up from the chair, running my hands through my hair, unsure what to do with them as she’s standing directly in front of me.
"Likewise, Addison Yorke."
She giggles, deliciously.
Fuck, she’s even more gorgeous than I remembered.
Without thinking I pull her into a hug, inhaling her perfume.
Seriously Quentin, settle down boy
She tenses up, so I let go and pulling away I press a kiss to her cheek.
All she does is stare at me, probably wondering why I’m even here.
It seems as though the chase is still on, hey?
Clearing my throat I bring myself back to reality and she asks, ”So Quentin, what brings you in?"
"Just wanted to um, get your thoughts on our mystery woman,” I say, a little too quickly.
She shrugs her shoulders, "Not much to tell Quentin. I told the Sergeant everything I know."
She isn't giving me anything, no insight into the case at all and standing so close to her is torture.
"Yeah but what do you think Addison?" I query, trying to butter her up to get her to open up to me.
"Quentin, honestly I don't know. I think maybe domestic violence, but it's not my place to pry."
"Ok, well thanks anyway."
I turn towards the door, she’s still standing in the same spot, and calls back to me, "Has Hunter said anything about me?"
"Not exactly, why?"
"Oh no reason, I've just been trying to get him back and he keeps shutting me down."
Sadness is present on her face. It’s kind of a relief to know I hadn't put it there but I feel a pang of anger towards my brother because he has.
To reassure her I say, "There are some things even brothers don't talk about Addison."
"Hmm ok, see you later Quentin."
This time I watch her walk away before leaving the hospital.
Maybe it’s time to confess to Hunter about my unrequited crush.
~ ~
Granted, I had spoken to Hunter since, but hadn't confessed my feelings for Addison to him.
It seems as though he doesn't care anyway. He’s to
o concerned with the mystery girl now and I’m a little worried about my older brother.
I don't think it wise that she’s staying with him, but Hunter never did care what I thought. He'd always had my best interest at heart and was a protective brother, but never listened when someone tried to tell him that what he was doing was wrong.
My feelings are mixed though.
It’s jealousy because Addison still wants him and not me and worry because he seems to be falling for Savannah and we know nothing about her.
It just doesn't compute in my head as to why my brother would be going after Savannah, when Addison wants him back.
Admittedly Savannah is beautiful, but she isn't Addison Yorke.
And I want Addison Yorke so damn much.
(23) Hunter
It'd become a nightly ritual when I wasn't out droving, that Savannah and I ate dinner together, one of us at either end of the large dining table that took up most of my farmhouse kitchen.
Oddly I enjoyed watching her eat, seeing her savouring every bite and loving every mouthful.
The feeling of wanting her only made more intense, as she licked her lips in delight as she ate.
Having her in my home for the last week, and not being able to touch her was driving me wild with longing. She seems happy, but I know that something in her past is holding her back from giving into me.
She still seems so scared and vulnerable.
She stands up to take her plate to the sink behind me.
Turning I look straight at her, truly dreading what I have to tell her, as I’m scared that this time when I return she won't be here. I don’t know why that thought plagues me, but it does.
Tentatively I speak, "Savannah, I need to talk to you."
A look of worry crosses her face and it makes my heart constrict a little.
