Love Out of Focus

by Rebecca Connolly

  He kissed her deeply, parting her lips with ease and skill, draining her of thought and any resistance she’d ever had. His hands cupped her face, fingers stroking and gripping against her cheeks. He wrung every ounce of sense and pleasure from her, kiss after drugging kiss, and soon the wall was the only thing holding her up.

  When he finally eased back, her hands were gripping his lapels, and his chest was moving as rapidly and unsteadily as hers. There was some comfort in that, at least. If she was going to be completely senseless, at least he was too.

  “What was that for?” she eventually gasped.

  He stroked her cheek, one hand leaning against the wall above her. “After your little stunt in the truck, I haven’t thought of anything else all day. I needed to see if I imagined it.” He waited a beat. “I didn’t.”

  Mal swallowed hard and slid her hands over his blazer. “Wow.”

  One side of his mouth curved up. “Is that a compliment?”

  “Sure,” she managed, clearing her throat. “I …” She had no idea what had come over her this morning; she’d only known that she had to kiss him on her own, just once, in case it never happened again. “I thought it was a one-time thing,” she admitted lamely.

  His eyes flashed dangerously, and he kissed her again, slowly and maddeningly raw. She broke off with a whimpering gasp, the only noise she could make. Hunter grazed her jaw with kisses, then brushed his lips across her earlobe. She shivered, his hand moving from her face to her waist, pulling her tightly into him. Mal kept her eyes closed, though her eyelids twitched and fluttered with the rest of her.

  “Nothing about this is a one-time thing,” he growled into her ear, breathless and panting a little. “Nothing.”

  “Even the pantry bit?” she managed to quip, finding her voice at last.

  His low laugh sent a ripple through her. “Especially the pantry bit.”

  She slid her hands around his waist under his blazer and cleared her throat again. “Better make it worth my while, then. We’ve only got a few minutes, and I need something to tell the others when they find out.”

  Hunter made a noise of amusement and appreciation. “Tell them to use their imaginations.”

  And then, still smiling, he kissed her again.

  Feeling much better about life in general, Hunter walked into the entertainment room at the lodge. It was already mostly filled, and the first group was ready to go on. He hadn’t thought that Jenna and Tom would have included the events at the resort in the schedule of their extravaganza, but when he’d shown them the calendar, they had both insisted that the live music and karaoke night be part of their package. He didn’t mind at all, and it would give the tourists and locals something to talk about, when they were finally permitted to. And he genuinely enjoyed spending time with his guests and neighbors.

  Mal was on one side of the room with Taryn and Dan, giving directions. He wouldn’t distract her. Not again. She looked over at him and seemed to lose her train of thought. He smiled and inclined his head, but made no move to go toward her. He saw the flash of relief and pleasure, and she returned his smile, then went back to work as if nothing had happened. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on between them, but he was enjoying it.

  He headed to the table where the rest of the group was, ordered a drink from one of three waiters floating around, and settled in to enjoy what was destined to be an entertaining, if not downright hilarious, evening.

  The first group turned out to be a folksy bluegrass ensemble, who were good, and the crowd enjoyed them. They were followed by a number of fair but fun karaoke numbers from various audience members, and then a truly stirring young man with an acoustic guitar.

  Hunter saw Sophie furiously texting away on her phone during and after that one, which was a clear indication of his talent. Her father was one of the biggest names in the music industry and, while Sophie didn’t inherit his taste or his ear, she knew what he liked and looked for.

  He hesitated to say anything nice about her, given her personality and the way she’d aggressively pursued him for years, but he was honest enough to admit that.

  During the intermission, the wedding group mingled again and warmed up to the idea of participating. Hunter glanced at Mal, who was at the end of the table, her camera in her lap for the moment. She rolled her eyes once and folded her open cardigan more closely around her as if settling in. Taryn, meanwhile, was poring over the karaoke list, and Dan was shaking his head at her.

  There was an interesting family dynamic between those three, and Hunter liked what he saw. Mal was not what he would call a people person, and she was struggling to reconnect with her family while maintaining her self-image and allowing for their eccentricities. She’d never talked to him about it, and he wasn’t sure she would, but he could see it.

  He pulled out his phone and texted her quickly.

  What are you singing?

  She glanced at her phone briefly, then looked up directly at him, incredulous. He shrugged, and she shook her head before texting him back.

  You first.

  He smirked but didn’t look back at her. Instead, he looked over at the stage, where three of Jenna’s bridesmaids were singing. It was horrible. But then, they’d known it was going to be, and it was all about fun, wasn’t it?

  He’d never do something this impulsive and exposing; it wasn’t in his nature. But he could appreciate the bravery it took to get up there if you were serious about it, and the lack of inhibition if you were not.

  Two more acts followed—one a sweet duet from an older couple he’d seen at the resort every year for at least five years, and the other a group of guys doing a fantastic a cappella rendition of “I Will Wait.” Hunter made a note of that one, signaling to his emcee to get the necessary information from them. Talented and popular acts were always worth bringing back.

  “Now what?” Jenna asked of the table. “Who’s next?”

  “Not it,” Tom answered, putting a finger on his nose, which most of the group followed.

  Lucas sat forward. “I think everyone in the group should do at least one number. Call it a dare.”

  That was received well with hushed voices and significant looks.

  Hunter looked at Tom with a raised brow, and Tom shook his head. “Hunter has a forfeit. He runs the place.”

  Lucas rolled his eyes but smiled. “Fine, fine, boss man doesn’t have to. But that means we get some wings off tab.”

  Hunter grunted and shook his head with a smile. “Sure, whatever you want. So long as I’m not going up there.” He flagged down the waiter and put in an order for them.

  “I think Mal should go next,” Sophie said with a sneer in her voice.

  Hunter’s smile faded, and he turned to look at her in disbelief. He wasn’t alone.

  Sophie pretended to look surprised. “Didn’t you say the entire group? She’s part of it, right?”

  Mal was wide eyed and small at her end of the table. “I don’t think—”

  “And I know what she can sing,” Sophie interrupted, looking at the music list, though her eyes didn’t move across the page. “‘Alone’ by Heart.”

  The entire table went silent. No one was stupid enough to mistake her real meaning, not even Bethany. Hunter fought his first urge, which was to look at Mal, and his next urge, which was to punch the table.

  Caroline, sitting two seats down from him, snatched the paper back from Sophie. “Here’s an idea, Sophie. How about you go next and sing ‘Don’t Speak’ by No Doubt?”

  Uneasy laughter broke out, and Mal quietly excused herself from the table, camera in hand, and moved to one side of the room, taking pictures of the Journey cover band currently onstage.

  Hunter watched Mal closely, looking for the barest hint of hurt or distress in her. He never saw it. She was as calm and cool, and he was proud of that.

  You okay? he texted quickly.

  She glanced down at her phone, then looked over at him in surprise. She smiled, rolled her ey
es, and made a small gesture as if to say Of course.

  He gave her a warning look. He didn’t want her to pretend, not with him.

  She huffed and looked down at her phone.

  I don’t care about Sophie. And I could totally rock Alone if I wanted to.

  He smiled and looked up at her again, sending her a wink, which she returned.

  Someone at the microphone cleared his throat, and Hunter looked to the stage to find Lucas there. “I would like to dedicate this song to my cousin, Mallory,” he said, with a hand on his chest, looking at Mal. “I love you, and you’re the best. If this song weren’t about, you know, the sexy kind of love, this would be how I feel about you.”

  That earned him three whistles from their table, and Hunter sat back with a smile. Mal was going to kill Lucas no matter what song he sang after this. What followed was a dramatic, heartfelt, and surprisingly decent rendition of Survivor’s “The Search Is Over.” Hunter suspected, looking around the room, that Lucas would have himself a fan club before the night was out.

  Mal was taking pictures of the whole thing and smiling, shaking her head.

  According to multiple sources, there was no explaining Lucas.

  When the applause died down, Lucas spoke again. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, for an encore, I present to you a Hudson cousin special. So if my lovely sisters and cousin would join me up here …”

  There were gasps and squeals and mutterings of murder as Jenna and Caroline went up. Mal stayed rooted in her place.

  Lucas stared at her with a lifted brow. “Mallory, if you don’t get your butt up here, I will tell this entire room about that family trip to Charleston when you were seven.”

  Mal’s eyes went wide. She swallowed, and handed her camera off to Dan, who was grinning gleefully. He and Taryn stood together in the back, plotting their angles.

  Mal made her way up and stood by Caroline, smiling in spite of her glower at Lucas. Then Mal met Hunter’s eyes, and her shoulders dropped in defeat, which made him smile.

  “This is a real treat, ladies and gents,” Lucas was saying. “This is something that has not been done in fifteen years. All our lives, we worked tirelessly on one song together, and one song only.”

  All three of the girls gaped at each other.

  “The Hudson cousins present … ‘Dancing on the Ceiling.’”

  The room broke into applause, and it looked as if Lucas might not get to live very long after his stunt, but something he said to the girls made them smile. The music started, and they were off.

  And they were good.

  More than that, they were having fun, and soon everyone in the room was—except Sophie, who was not impressed, but nobody cared. They were up on their feet, dancing and singing along, clapping to the beat.

  The cousins danced, harmonized, and seemed to know precisely what the others would do. Clearly, there had been much rehearsal of this song in their younger years, and they remembered every bit of it.

  Mal came alive onstage, and he could see the years of distance between her and her cousins melting away. She moved to the beat in her place, though she was clearly not a dancer. She didn’t care, and neither did anyone else. This was a side of her he’d never seen before, and layers of Mal’s inhibitions were falling away, one by one, before his eyes.

  He liked what he saw. He liked it a lot.

  The song ramped up, and Lucas turned his focus to the audience, playing to their excitement and enjoyment, while Mal and the girls turned into a trio, playing off each other and having a blast.

  Hunter couldn’t pay attention to the others, not even with the charm and beauty of Jenna and Caroline on display. They might have been the ones everyone else watched, but not him. There was no one but Mal, for him—Mal on the stage, Mal behind the camera, Mal drinking cocoa in the mornings … Mal as she was at any given time.

  She was a constant surprise, and for the first time, he liked surprises.

  Thunderous applause heralded the end of the song, and all the cousins were laughing hysterically.

  Sophie, not to be outdone, forced Alexis onstage with her, and they butchered “Hips Don’t Lie,” raising several concerns from patrons about their blood alcohol level, though they did not have any such excuse.

  Lucas saved the evening again with Reed and the rest of the guys by leading the room in “Friends in Low Places,” but Hunter only pretended to sing along. He kept looking over at Mal, now back with her assistants and taking pictures, invisible to everyone else again.

  In his opinion, Mal had never looked more gorgeous than when she was laughing with her cousins onstage. And all he wanted to do was pull her onto his lap and tell her how proud he was of her and how beautiful she was. And ask her to sing for him again. But he couldn’t.

  He texted her instead.

  And her blush and smile were worth it.

  Chapter 10

  Sunrise was becoming a favorite time for Hunter. It didn’t matter where they went or how much they talked or didn’t talk. Being with Mal was enough. The opportunity to hold her and steal several kisses was enough. Even without that, watching her work was enough.

  She was brilliant, visionary, and artistic. The most inconsequential things were fascinating to her. She could make something beautiful out of things that Hunter couldn’t even see. She tried teaching him, showing him what she saw through her lens, but he just didn’t see it. She tried and tried to get him to understand what she did and how she could do it, but his brain did not work that way.

  That didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate her genius and find her work brilliant. He told her that so much she was beginning to hate him for it. He knew that for certain because she kept telling him so.

  “If you don’t stop that,” she said with a pointed glare, “I really will hate you, and you will not get any kisses from me.”

  He grinned at her from where he was leaning on a rock near the old ruins. “Stop what?” he asked, folding his arms. “I’m only staring.”

  Mal rolled her eyes. “But your stare is one thousand megawatts stronger than a regular person’s. I refuse to be stared at like a piece of hamburger.” She gave him another look and went back to taking pictures.

  Hunter gave her a second, looking her over. She was in her jeans and hiking boots, the white jacket from the first shoot, and one of his beanies. She was gorgeous and natural and everything he had ever wanted.

  “You’re not hamburger,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re a perfectly cut, seasoned, and tender piece of prime rib-eye steak.”

  Mal stumbled as she whirled, cheeks flaming. “Stop that!”

  He shrugged one shoulder, curving his mouth into a smile. “What? What did I say?”

  “You say things like that, and then I get all fluttery and nervous. And stop staring at me with those intense eyes!” She waved a hand in the air and turned away from him, facing the lake.

  Hunter pushed off the rock and sauntered toward her. He didn’t say a word, and she didn’t move when he got close. He simply slid his arms around her waist, pulled her against him, and waited. Soon enough, she relaxed in his hold and leaned back with an irritated sigh.

  “Am I ever going to be really mad at you?” she asked with a hint of a smile in her voice.

  He chuckled and pressed a kiss against her ear. “Probably not,” he whispered. “You like me too much.”

  “Maybe.” She tilted her head back to rest on his shoulder. “How long is this going to last, Hunter?”

  That gave him pause. “What are you talking about?”

  “This,” she said, tugging briefly at his arms, but not dislodging them. “How long is this going to last? Because it’s moving pretty fast, and we’re in our own lovely little world here. How long until you realize that I’m just some middle-class girl with impossible aspirations who’s dipping her toes in water she doesn’t belong in?”

  Hunter dropped his arms from her and turned her to face him, his emotion
s suddenly going haywire. “What are you talking about, Mal?”

  She wouldn’t look at him, and he didn’t want to force her, so he squeezed her arms.

  “What?” he asked again.

  She swallowed once. “You’re too good for me,” she mumbled. “Way too good. Trust me, I’ve been told several times already. And I don’t want to be played.”

  It was as if some cosmic vacuum had sucked all the air from his lungs. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and his emotional equilibrium was suddenly and entirely centered on her. She thought this was some off-the-cuff fling? That he was some rich guy with nothing better to do?

  “Do you really think,” he began, fighting for control, “that I am playing with you? That this is a fling?”

  She shrugged, still not looking at him.

  He exhaled, drawing it out. “Then I have been doing a miserable job of courting you.”

  Her head finally came up, and her red-rimmed eyes met his. “What?”

  He took one hand and cupped the side of her face. “Mal, I don’t fool around. I don’t play or fling, and I most certainly don’t care where you think we are on the class and fortune spectrum. None of that matters to me. How many times do I have to tell you that I like you, that you’re beautiful, that I want to be with you, for you to believe me?”

  “I just … I didn’t think things like this happened,” she whispered. “They don’t happen. Not to girls like me.”

  He stroked her cheek softly. “Well, it’s happening, baby. To you. Despite what you think, there are no girls like you. There’s only you. You need to stop putting distance between us that isn’t there.”

  She reached a hand up to pull his head down and touched her forehead to his, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He shifted to kiss her forehead gently, then pressed his forehead against hers again and let his nose graze hers. “Don’t be sorry,” he told her. “Just see what I see. I’m getting tired of fighting you for you.”