Quick to the Hunt

by Cameron Dane

  On his way to his truck, Hunter fought the shiver of nerves tingling down his spine -- the bad and good kind. The fissures of awareness in relation to Alex gave Hunter pause, but in truth didn’t hold a candle to the emotional havoc sitting down to dinner with Sarah, Jace, and Jasper would have brought forth. The blush of their new love, something they absolutely should not have to smother for him, triggered bad things inside Hunter that only reminded him of the loving, profound relationships he’d lost overseas.

  Climbing into his truck, Hunter reminded himself he was not the same man who’d left the United States to go to war so many years ago. He never could be that guy again, and he had to find a way to get right with that truth. Hunter didn’t think he’d ever be entirely comfortable around people who hadn’t lived and breathed the life he had in the Middle East. Alex was no more an exception to that rule than Sarah, Jace, and Jasper were.

  Alex filled Hunter with too much awareness and renewed sexual desire -- neither of which helped Hunter find his center and a place of calm. Yet at the same time, Hunter had experienced a few minutes of total comfort with Alex just the other day in the grocery store parking lot. Discomfort had almost gotten the best of him at first, but he’d successfully and quickly talked himself down. For a few minutes he’d even forgotten about anything but the pleasure in chatting with a handsome man. Then Alex had gone silent and had looked at Hunter with a scrutiny reserved for scientists and their specimens. Every panicky warning siren Hunter had successfully suppressed had gone off in his body. He’d felt certain he’d unmasked himself in some way and Alex could see the flawed, ugly person within. At that point, Hunter had needed to get to his car, to a place of privacy, and to his knife before he did something in public that disgusted the entire town.

  Hunter rubbed at the gauze covering the fresh scars on his hip, letting their newness remind him of the dried splotches of blood on his hand. Shit. The moment Hunter turned in to the narrow parking lot, he immediately spotted Alex’s silver compact. Thank God for dark windows. After parking his truck in the slot directly in front of Alex’s, Hunter dug through his glove compartment for a moist towelette and some antibacterial cream. As quickly as his fingers would move, he wiped the blood off his hand and then dotted the cuts with medicated cream, letting the burn of the chemicals hitting the tiny cuts bring him back into control once more. Not bad. Each concentrated, brief burst of stinging pain on his palm helped rein Hunter’s heart rate under control.

  You can do this. You’ve proven you can maintain focus and cool around Alex more than once. The terrible nightmares of hurting him are just that -- bad dreams. Just get out of the truck and help him. Hunter quickly exchanged his brown glove for his black work one to befit the potentially dirty nature of the task ahead.

  Feeling surprisingly, remarkably calm, Hunter exited his vehicle and joined Alex just as the man opened the hood of his car and locked it into place.

  Hunter braced his weight across the front of the car, taking a moment to assess the guts of the vehicle for any obvious issues. When nothing stood out to him, he asked, “Were you able to start the car at all?”

  “Yeah.” From his position near the left wheel, Alex nodded. “Twice, and both times it died.”

  “Okay. It’s probably the alternator rather than the battery, but let’s be sure.” Reaching under the open hood, Hunter pressed gently against one, two, three belts, looking for too much or too little give against his fingertips. Frowning, he glanced up at Alex. “Belts all feel like they have the right tension. Can you start the car for me?”

  “Sure.” Alex backed out of sight. A moment later he called, “Tell me when!”

  Hunter already had his hands well clear of anything that could whack off more of his fingers. “Do it,” he said back, his attention on the car’s mechanics.

  The engine successfully fired, roaring in Hunter’s ears. Before the engine could die, Hunter reached in and removed one of the cables from the battery. Instantly, the engine went silent.

  Alex reemerged and made eye contact with Hunter. “What’s your diagnosis?”

  After reattaching the cable he’d disconnected, Hunter closed the hood of Alex’s car for him, pressing until it clicked firmly closed. “I didn’t hear any whining or thwacking while it was running. I think it’s definitely the alternator itself rather than a belt issue, but that doesn’t necessarily mean the alternator is dead. It might just need some cleaning, or something might not be connecting properly. You’ll need to have a mechanic hook it up to a computer to find out for sure.” After waving away a pesky moth from near his cheek, Hunter scratched at the area to get the itching sensation off his face. “A jump will get your battery going for a few minutes, and the engine can pull from it, but it’s definitely not enough to get you all the way out to your trailer, and it certainly won’t help you tomorrow morning when you try to get going again.”

  “It’s a lease,” Alex said, thumping his hand against the hood, “so whatever it ends up being, I’m not on the hook for the cost. Still, I’ll have to get it to a local mechanic and see what the dealership wants me to do. Hopefully they can have a backup here by the morning.”

  The issue of the car no longer a source of conversation, Hunter went to shove his hands into his pockets but then met the resistance of his glove. He let his hands fall awkwardly to his sides instead. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” he said, his tone suddenly a little husky.

  “It’s all right.” Alex stepped closer, bringing warmth through his very body. Immediately Hunter found his heart kicking up its beat again. With another step, Alex closed most of the distance between them. “I’d say thank you for rescuing me yet again,” he murmured, his gaze shimmering in the waning light, “and I do thank you for helping me out.” Alex lifted his hand, and Hunter flinched. Alex didn’t back away, though. He paused for a brief second, then brushed his thumb and forefinger across Hunter’s cheek, the warm sensation fleeting but shiverworthy. Withdrawing, Alex lifted his hand, showing the dirt he’d removed from Hunter’s skin. He wiped his hand on his jeans, but his clear, grass-pure gaze stayed locked on Hunter. “But tonight I think I actually saved you.”

  Hunter backed up until his spine hit the grill of his truck and he could move no farther. “What?” All the confidence he’d exhibited, and actually felt for real, during his time checking Alex’s engine, helping him, leaked onto the ground like a car spilling oil.

  Mirroring Hunter, although certainly without the tension, Alex rested against the hood of his car, studying him from the four feet of distance between them. “You did not want to have that meal tonight,” he shared, “at least not with your sister and her men.” Alex shrugged and easily slipped his hands into his pockets. “I afforded you an easy excuse out.”

  Fuck. Hunter could not get to the knife in his pocket. This man watched him far too closely to do anything undetected. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He crossed his arms. Defensive posturing took over his tone as much as his stance. “I was plenty hungry for dinner tonight.”

  “But not with them,” Alex corrected. “It’s okay, you know.” Crossing his legs at the ankles, Alex somehow seemed to settle in even deeper to his superior position. “You don’t have to admit it. It doesn’t take away from it being the truth, though, either.”

  “What is this?” For every second Alex remained calm, Hunter felt more and more naked and on display. “You’re some kind of mind reader now in addition to being a big-shot millionaire?”

  “I didn’t get to where I am today by being blind,” Alex replied easily. The breeze lifted his neatly tamed, blond locks and settled them again, as if it didn’t dare get one strand out of place. “It’s a thousand times better to be a keen observer than to know how to talk a good game. As someone who negotiates deals all the time, if I know your weakness, if I can read in you exactly where I captured your interest in my proposal, if I can sense what makes you tick, then I know how to strategize and what to say to get a yes on the deal.�
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  “Of course you’re a brilliant strategist.” Hunter snorted, feeling himself wind up tighter with every retort. “I’m sure you’re a genius at everything you do. Once I saw this piece of crap car you drive, I should have known better than to think you gained success by throwing lots of money around to look the part.”

  Alex performed a modified bow. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But like I said, the car is a lease. Until today it did the job just fine.”

  The fine hairs on Hunter’s neck lifted and had him pushing closer into Alex’s space. “That might be true, but you can lease any kind of car you want. You can get something luxury that not only looks more expensive on the outside but actually has higher quality mechanics under the hood. But you didn’t do that. And that doesn’t even take into consideration when you said something to me a while back about moving out of your motel room, not hotel, and not some nice house you rented while you’re in town. A motel. You went the cheapest route.” Widening his stance, Hunter closed his arms against his chest right in front of Alex. “Why is that?”

  Shrugging, Alex replied, “The motel was convenient.”

  “I can buy that about the motel, but you can’t say that about the car.” Studying this man, once again fascinated, Hunter held eye contact as he stiffened to attention, as he did when he wore his dress uniform. “But it’s just as convenient to lease a high-end car as it is an economy. That argument doesn’t fly across the board.”

  Alex pushed off the car, his arms now crossed too. “What’s your point? So I don’t get all hopped up about cars. I’ve never dreamed about owning a Porsche or Ferrari. For me, as long as it can get me from point A to point B, I don’t really care who makes it or how much it costs.”

  Hunter just suppressed pointing his finger in Alex’s face and shouting aha! “But if you really didn’t care, then the odds would be just as likely you’d get the nicer car over the lesser one.” Looking Alex over from top to bottom triggered intimate, personal questions Hunter no longer knew how to properly or civilly ask. “You’re cheap on purpose.”

  “So?” Alex said it with a shrug, but twin lines of pink cut across his cheeks.

  “So nothing.” Hunter shrugged right back. Watching Alex’s blush grow only made Hunter want to dig in and root out more about this man. “It’s just interesting to me that you don’t come clean and outright admit it.”

  “All right, fine.” Alex moved forward, almost stalking with two small steps. Hunter automatically backed up until he could move no more. “I chose the cheap motel on purpose, and I also deliberately went with the less expensive car.” His stare glinting green chips of ice, Alex planted his hands on the truck and leaned into Hunter’s personal space. “I also happen to wear tighty-whities that I buy for six ninety-nine a pack over designer brands that cost twenty-five bucks a pair. I also have the most stripped-down, basic cell phone on the market because I don’t need or want it to do anything more than make phone calls. Should I continue listing all the cheap-ass stuff I buy rather than the pricier alternative?” He bared his teeth, and Hunter got a glimpse of the shark inside this attractive, tailored facade. “Because there’s more, and I can.”

  His blood humming at maximum velocity, Hunter grabbed Alex by the lapels of his jacket and propelled him backward. “Hey. I never asked you for an itemized list of how you spend your money. I’m just curious about why --”

  “No way.” Alex grabbed hold of Hunter right back, twisting one hand in Hunter’s shirt right over his heart. “A minute ago you seemed to think you had the right to question me about this stuff, so let me elaborate even further. I happen to spend a decent chunk of change on my running shoes because I need the quality and comfort. I also happen to have my suits tailor-made so they fit my frame well.” He held on to Hunter’s shirt so tightly it crushed his fist into Hunter’s chest. “I spend money where I believe it’s warranted, Mr. Tennison. Otherwise I’ve been taught it’s smarter to invest it or put it in the bank. When you grow up as poor as I did, you don’t waste money and expect to remain wealthy.” His chest rising in big waves under Hunter’s hands, Alex breathed heavily as if he’d just completed one of his morning runs. “So now you know some very personal stuff about me.” Uncurling his fist, Alex smoothed the fabric he’d wrinkled on Hunter’s shirt. His voice infinitely softer, he said, “Now how about you give me something intimate in return so that we’re even?”

  His heart thumping in a way Alex could surely feel, Hunter slipped into the bottomless depths of Alex’s interested, open gaze. “It hurts to be home,” Hunter said, the words abrading him on the way out, “but I can’t ever let anyone I love know about it.” He then tore himself out of Alex’s hold and veered straight for his driver’s side door. He could feel Alex close on his heels. “I drive by Pete’s Garage on my way home.” Hunter climbed in behind the wheel and got the engine started. “I’ll stop and let him know to send a tow truck to you. The driver will take you home. Bye.”

  “Wait.” Alex grabbed hold of the door handle. “Hunter?” He tried to open the door, but Hunter had already locked it. With a curse Alex let go, but only took one step back. “What the fuck did you mean by that?”

  Full of fear that he would blurt out something else a thousand times more personal, Hunter didn’t dare look into the man’s eyes again. He murmured, “I have to go,” and peeled out of the parking lot.

  Rather than stopping at Pete’s, Hunter made a call to let the garage know about Alex’s situation. He could not see another soul right now and risk another stupid confession. What in the hell had possessed him to blurt out that shit about it hurting to be home? To Alexander Quick. Someone his sister had quickly come to believe one of her dearest friends. The man would tell Sarah everything. No he won’t. As careless as Hunter had been, he sensed on a fundamental level Alex would not sell him out. Each had revealed something private tonight. Although Hunter didn’t understand Alex’s embarrassment with the frugal label, Alex clearly had some issues with people viewing him as a wealthy man who didn’t live up to the hype. And while it didn’t exactly compare to Hunter’s confession, Hunter would respect Alex’s privacy as much as he hoped Alex would honor his. Please.

  Hunter’s heart raced furiously. He eyed the glove compartment over and over again, aware of every cutting device in the little compartment and how his hand felt curled around each one. Just in imagining himself slicing neat, soldier-straight little lines in a row into his flesh with the small razor blade, Hunter experienced a jolt of euphoria. But I don’t need to do it. He dug his cut-up hand into the steering wheel, rubbed it across the braided leather enough to break open the small nicks again, and brought temporary stinging discomfort that helped him focus.

  Then it hit Hunter, and he had to pull over his truck or risk crashing into something. Holy hell. Hunter slumped against the steering wheel, amazed. If he dismissed the very end of his conversation with Alex, then Hunter had for the most part kept himself well in control, away from destructive, cutting thoughts, for almost his entire talk with Alex. Not until Hunter had admitted to his secret pain in returning home had the thought of a blade slicing through his skin entered his mind. Damn it, yes. Not only had Hunter kept control, but he’d been so immersed in sparring with Alex he’d hardly had to deal with nervousness or fear. He’d just simply enjoyed himself with the man. Again. The destructive dreams involving him didn’t manifest in reality in any way.

  Maybe Hunter could handle Alex after all. Maybe I don’t have to have an exit strategy every time I get near him. Maybe, just maybe, he could get better. For good.

  As he pulled back onto the road, Hunter grinned as his cock throbbed and his balls tingled. This time Hunter didn’t fight the pleasure.

  * * * *

  His heart skittering, Alex scanned the area of Hawkins Ranch within his sight line as he made his way up the steps to the main house. Privately he could admit to the transparency of his visit; he just hoped like hell nobody else noticed or called him on it. He could hav
e taken care of this task over the phone. Or even better, Ty, the young man assisting in running the youth center, could have made the call or visit for him. Ty had all kinds of personal connections to Hawkins Ranch and would likely visit the property soon. Alex did not have to be here.

  Ty isn’t ridiculously hoping to get a glimpse of Hunter, though. Alex’s skin heated as he knocked on Conner and Cassie Hawkins’s front door, yet he continued to search the spattering of workers milling about, looking for Hunter. Alex might as well be one of the tweens or teens in his stock market program down at the youth center, and he knew it. His behavior certainly didn’t reflect the decorum of a thirty-one-year-old man. Next thing he knew, he’d be writing Alex + Hunter in the margins of a contract or proposal.

  This is stupid. Alex still hadn’t even bothered to start a background check on Hunter. Yet here he stood, searching for a man he didn’t know, all because Alex hadn’t seen Hunter since their exchange in the youth center parking lot. Alex had quickly grown used to Hunter giving a little wave as he passed Alex running in the mornings -- only Hunter hadn’t driven past him one time in the last three days. Worry had set in. Worry Alex knew had no basis in reality. If something had happened to Hunter, the news would have circulated around town by now. So he was a little vulnerable the other night, and it grabbed at your core. That doesn’t make you his guard dog. Alex wanted to sink through the porch floorboards more and more every second he stood on this property. I have to get out of here.

  “Can I help you?” A feminine voice cut across the warm air, making Alex spin toward the source.

  At the bottom of the porch steps stood a woman in dirty jeans and snug T-shirt with HAWKINS RANCH emblazoned across the front. She had her brown hair pulled back in a braid. Along with her makeup-free face and easy stance, the whole picture of the woman made her eminently approachable.