Love Out of Focus

by Rebecca Connolly

  He nodded slowly. “Yep.”

  “You hate tuxes,” she murmured, more controlled this time.

  Again came the nod. “Yep.”

  She smiled, the familiarity so natural, and his difficulty with taking the bait entertaining. “Why are you wearing a tux?” she asked.

  “Oh, I’ve just been to a gala,” he said, as if this were a simple conversation.

  Mal’s breath caught. “You hate galas.”

  There was a slight tilt to his head as he heard that catch, and somehow his gaze was more intense. “Yep. But I heard the photographer was amazing, and I had to come and see for myself. It was a black-tie thing, so …”

  He’d been there. The whole time. She’d gone over the entire room. How could she have missed him?

  He’d come for her. He wanted to see her.

  “You look good,” she murmured, looking him over briefly, though she would much rather have spent a long time doing it.

  He shook his head slightly, and something about his expression made her hurt. “Not as good as you.”

  “Please,” she protested. “I’m a mess.” As if to emphasize that, her bangs dislodged again, and she shoved them back quickly.

  “You’re beautiful,” Hunter said at once, his tone and eyes warm, and a quiet sigh escaped him. “I’ve missed you.”

  Mal looked at him for a long moment, drinking in the sight of him, letting the warmth race through her. “I’ve missed you too,” she whispered.

  He shifted his weight, still leaning against the cab, that tightness in his body more pronounced. “Then why don’t you pick up when I call?” he asked, his chest heaving. “Why are you hiding from me?”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. “I thought … ,” she tried, her voice more of a croak. She cleared her throat. “I thought we were done.”

  “What in the world gave you that impression?” he demanded, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m not done with you. I’ll never be done with you.”

  She staggered to the side, staring at him in shock. “What?”

  “Did you not understand what I was saying at Lake Lure?” Hunter asked, shaking his head again. “That I’m in love with you? That it took less than a week for me to realize that what my life was missing was you?”

  Mal’s tears started down her cheeks slowly. “I saw you with Emma,” she managed, her tone far less accusing than she thought it would be when she said these words. “You hugged her and …”

  “Of course I did,” Hunter said, his tone gentler. “She and I have been friends since we were kids. She wanted to get back together, and I told her there would be no getting back together because I had found my one and only. She was sad, but she got it. She’s fine. And I’d be fine too if my one and only weren’t doing her best to avoid me.”

  Mal had the most intense desire to cover her face with her hands, but she couldn’t feel them. “I was scared,” she admitted, swallowing back more tears and staring at him in agony. “I always knew that you belonged with someone like her, and that I was reaching for the stars. I knew I’d never be good enough for your world—”

  “Shut up.”

  “What?” she hiccupped, going suddenly cold.

  “Shut up,” he said again. He shook his head, sighing heavily. “Don’t you get it? You are my world.” He swallowed, and she watched his throat work. “I love you. You are what I’ve always wanted, and I’m tired of trying to get you to see it. Tell me what I have to do, Mallory Hudson. Because I will do anything you say if it means I get you at the end of the day. That’s all I want. Just you.”

  Something inside Mal burst like the grand finale fireworks at the Fourth of July. The saxophone solo from “Baker Street” was playing in her head, and she could suddenly breathe for the first time since she’d left Lake Lure. Her lungs expanded with freedom, and she dropped her bag, her feet moving at twice their usual pace to get to him.

  She reached for his face and pulled his mouth to hers, nearly crying again at the relief of feeling his lips on hers. She kissed him as she had never kissed him before, with fervent abandon and reckless passion. She inhaled sharply when his arms seized around her waist and lifted her against him so that only her toes were touching the ground. His moan of satisfaction matched hers, and she broke contact briefly, running her lips along his breathlessly.

  “I love you,” she breathed, her lower lip grazing the skin of his chin with her words.

  Suddenly, her back was against the cab, and Hunter loomed over her, pressing her back against the metal frame, his mouth frenzied against hers. She slid one arm under his jacket while the other surged into his hair, earning her a rough growl of approval that she swallowed with delight.

  He devoured her, slowly and steadily, his hands pulling at her waist and her hair, her fingers pressing into his back, tensing almost rhythmically against the taut muscle straining beneath his shirt.

  There was no way of knowing how long they kissed, and she didn’t care. Even the cab driver seemed perfectly content to let them go as long as they wanted. There was no hurry. They had all the time in the world, and no one was going anywhere. Eventually, the deep kisses faded into the soft, breathless grazing of lips against each other and panted breaths on cheeks and throats.

  “I’m so sorry, Hunter,” Mal whispered, stroking his cheek and jaw gently. “I’m so sorry.”

  He kissed her again in response, infinitely tender, clearly in no rush to hear any apologies from her.

  “The cab won’t wait,” Mal eventually stammered, taking at least four breaths to manage the effort.

  Hunter chuckled and nuzzled her throat. “Sure it will. I paid the driver a lot to do whatever we wanted. He’s fine.”

  He was missing the point. Mal didn’t want to stay here against the cab forever. She slid her hand from his hair to his throat and played with the open collar. “Fine,” she said with a defiant stare as she met his eyes, their noses almost touching. “I won’t wait.”

  A slow grin crossed Hunter’s face. “Now that’s more like it.” He gave her an assessing look. “You didn’t eat all night. Hungry?”

  “Starving,” she said bluntly, enjoying the double meaning.

  He closed his eyes as if praying. “Mallory.”

  “I love you,” she said again, reaching up to touch his face. “And I’d love a pizza.”

  He kissed her quickly, as if relieved she had stopped teasing him. “I love you too. Pizza it is. Now get in the cab, woman. I have a lot of time to make up for.” He reached behind her, making her yelp as his hand brushed her hip, and opened the door.

  She slid into the seat, reaching out her hand for him. Hunter grabbed her bag, shoved it into the space between the front seat and theirs, and slammed the door shut, taking her hand and lacing their fingers.

  The cabbie was already grinning as he turned to look at them, thumbing his cap back. “Where to?” he asked in a not-at-all-innocent voice. “I thought I heard something about pizza, but …”

  Hunter looked at Mal. She brought her finger to her mouth and ran it over her bottom lip softly. “One Mississippi … ,” she whispered slowly.

  Hunter groaned and hauled her into his lap. “Oh, just drive around for a while. We’ll figure it out later.” And then his lips were on hers again, her hands clamped around the back of his head, and his latched around her hips and back.

  The cabbie chuckled, pulled away from the curb, and slowly turned up the radio, his head absently moving along to the beat of a Barry White tune as they ventured off into the Chicago night.

  And apparently, there were some acceptable excuses for missing brunch the next day.

  Epilogue

  One year later

  “Hunter! Where did you put the cereal?”

  “Baby, I didn’t stock the kitchen. I called ahead.”

  “You know how I feel about that!”

  “There wasn’t time, love! If you remember, I was with you the entire time you were doing the farmlands piece for what’s-his-na
me, and we came here together. When would I have been able to stock the kitchen?”

  Mal grumbled under her breath and began opening random cabinets in the kitchen. It wasn’t as though she seriously expected him to do his own shopping for the house when they hadn’t planned out the trip extensively. It had been a whim of his to get away, considering things had been so insane with his job and her contracts. Heading back to Lake Lure had seemed like the perfect answer.

  “You did tell them to get Froot Loops, right? And not the generic kind?” she called out as she opened another cupboard.

  She heard Hunter laugh. “Yes, Mallory, I did. I know better than that.”

  “Good,” she grunted, though it wouldn’t make much difference if she couldn’t actually find the cereal. Then, miraculously, it was there in front of her, though she was positive she’d already looked in that spot.

  “Whatever,” she muttered, reaching for a bowl that somehow was in the same place the bowls had always been despite the food getting changed around. She opened the cereal and poured it in, shaking her head.

  “Wait.” Hunter suddenly popped his head into the kitchen and gave her a wry look. “You’re hungry?”

  She turned and leaned against the counter, taking a handful of the dry Froot Loops. “Yeah. Why?” she asked as she tossed them in her mouth.

  “Why?” Hunter repeated, chuckling and coming farther into the room, sliding his hands into his fitted jeans. “Because you were sick this morning and on the plane too. You were green the entire way through the airport and most of the drive in.”

  “I don’t travel well.”

  He knew better than that, and a sly smile crossed his lips. “Liar. You travel amazingly well, as evidenced by the turbulence we had on the way into London last year. I can count on one hand the number of trips we’ve taken where you have been anything less than perfect.”

  She shrugged and moved to the fridge for the milk. “I was queasy last night, you know that. And today, it was productive.”

  Hunter blocked the fridge and smiled even more. “And now you’re hungry?”

  Mal looked up at him, torn between irritation, amusement, and more than a little attraction. It was the usual conflict of feelings where he was concerned, and she still hadn’t fully adjusted. “Yes,” she told him. “I am.”

  He shrugged and folded his arms. “Pay the toll.”

  She snorted once. “For the milk? I didn’t know there was one.”

  “There’s a toll for everything, babe. Come on.” He gestured with his hand.

  Mal rolled her eyes and went up on tiptoe, kissing his cheek.

  He glared at her. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

  “You weren’t very specific,” she said unapologetically.

  He lowered his chin, his eyes turning dark and serious. “Pay a real toll, wife.”

  As always, the word sent a thrill down her spine that lit up her toes and made her feet curve with a ticklish tension. She went up on tiptoe again and closed the small distance between them, sliding her hands up his chest and around his neck.

  “A real toll, husband?” she murmured, nudging her nose against his. “That could be anywhere from seventy-five cents to two dollars and ten cents. What did you have in mind?”

  His hands wrapped around her waist, one tucking into her back pocket as he nuzzled against her lips. “I’m sure you’ll catch on.”

  “I’m usually pretty good at that,” she whispered, yelping softly when his teeth grazed her jaw.

  “The best,” he told her, the words muffled as his lips dragged across hers.

  Mal moaned and pressed his lips more firmly to hers, wishing she could arch up farther still to have more of him. Hunter held her more securely, lifting her until she couldn’t feel the floor beneath her at all. Not that she was paying attention to such minor details when her husband was kissing her like that. He backed her up into the counter, pressing her against it as he leaned more fully into her, his kisses making her head swim.

  The trill of a phone interrupted the would-be memorable liaison, and they paused, lips touching, panting, senseless. The ringing continued, sounding like a phone from the sixties and twice as annoying.

  Mal pulled back, stroking Hunter’s neck. “Are you going to get that?”

  He kept his eyes on hers, leaning forward to kiss her again. “Wait.”

  Wait? No way. She was going to keep kissing him, annoying ringing or not, and she kissed him back in the most encouraging way she could to let him know that. He caught on, and the ringing stopped.

  And then the ringing started again.

  Mal groaned and put her hands on her husband’s shoulders. “Go make that stop,” she ordered, pushing him away.

  Hunter laughed and pointed at her. “Stay there,” he shot back as he moved to the phone on the counter.

  “No way,” she said, hopping down. “The fridge is free, and I can have cereal now.”

  “Mallory McIntyre,” he growled as he picked up the phone. “You get back over there by the count of five or …”

  Mal waved the milk jug at him and skipped back to her bowl of cereal.

  “So much trouble,” he muttered, pressing the answer button on the phone. “Hello? Audrey! Hey, you!”

  Mal waved at the phone brightly, pouring the milk now, and Hunter nodded at her with a wink.

  “Mal says hi.” He paused. “Audrey’s blowing you kisses.”

  “Good,” Mal said, taking a big bite. “Someone should.”

  Hunter widened his eyes in warning, smiling in a way that spelled a fun sort of trouble for later.

  “Really? That’s an interesting project. You sure it’s him?” Hunter didn’t sound particularly pleased about whatever it was, which sent Mal’s curiosity into a frenzy. She cocked her head at him.

  He frowned but shook his head. “I don’t like it, but it sounds like a good chance for her. Let me know, all right? We’ll see you next weekend in Utah, right? Yeah, Park City. All right. Love you.”

  “Bye, Auds!” Mal bellowed.

  Hunter sighed, shaking his head. “You got that, right? ’Kay. Bye.” He tossed the phone on the counter, then looked at Mal again, smiling.

  “What?” Mal asked, cradling her cereal closer.

  “Have I ever told you how much I love the way you look in flannel?” he mused, his tone innocent.

  Mal blushed and took another bite. “Not really, no.”

  “I do.” He slowly started around the island toward her. “I love you in flannel.”

  Mal swallowed before she was ready, purely out of instinct. “Just in flannel? That’s good to know.”

  Hunter chuckled in a low, warm tone, his eyes still on her.

  “Wait,” Mal warned. “Wait. Cereal in hand. Lemme finish.”

  “Hurry,” he suggested.

  She pointedly took another bite, which he approved with a nod. “What did Audrey want?”

  That shut him down, and his posture eased at once. “Oh. Abby’s got a new gig. Believe it or not, she’s going to interview Reed Summerfield.”

  Mal grinned at that. “No way, really?”

  “Why does that make you happy?” he asked, his tone tense. “He’s a partier and a playboy, Hollywood royalty.”

  “Yes, I know,” she replied, rolling her eyes again. “He’s also decently nice, and he still emails me project pitches.”

  “Does he?” Hunter growled.

  Mal scolded him with a look. “Down, boy. He’s perfectly professional, even by your standards. And it would be a good op for Abby. Everyone will buy it. When is it?”

  “To be determined,” Hunter said, his tone and expression returning to normal. “Reed is very busy.”

  “No doubt he is.” Mal ate another spoonful of cereal and sighed, looking out of the kitchen to the pictures on the wall.

  One of their wedding pictures was front and center, and it was her favorite shot. Taryn and Dan had taken them, and though they hadn’t been her assistants anymore, they had i
nsisted on doing it for them. Not wanting to re-create Jenna and Tom’s wedding in any way, they’d kept things small and intimate. They had married on his parents’ estate, though she was the only one who called it that.

  “It’s just a house,” they’d all said.

  The word house would refer to half of the place, but not the whole of it. Very estatelike, especially with the garden and fountain in the back. Still, it had been perfect—simple, elegant, and without any fuss—and everyone important to them had been there.

  And now, barely five months later …

  “Mallory.”

  She jerked to look at Hunter, the milk in her bowl sloshing onto her thumb. “What?”

  Hunter smiled warmly. “You’re drifting. You okay?”

  Mal’s stomach clenched, and she gnawed the inside of her lip for a moment.

  Well, when the time was right …

  She carefully set the cereal down on the counter behind her, then turned back to face Hunter, folding her arms. “Actually, no.”

  “No?” Hunter asked at once, his eyes raking her over. “What’s wrong? Are you sick again? You shouldn’t have dairy so soon after, you know.”

  Mal laughed to herself and shook her head, taking a few steps forward. “No, I’m not going to be sick again. At least not right now. But probably a lot more for a few weeks. You’ve been getting up early for the past little while, so you’ve missed my usual morning bouts, but I’m told it’s all pretty normal.”

  “What’s normal?” His eyes were wide and confused, completely clueless as to what was coming.

  Mal paused, cherishing the anticipation even as fear licked at her. “I was late, and I never am, so I wondered, but then I started feeling off, so I was pretty sure …”

  “Mal, baby, stop playing.”

  She smiled at him and moved closer, though there was still a good foot between them. “I took a test, Hunter. And I went to the clinic before we left.” She bit her lip, then exhaled. “I’m pregnant.”

  Hunter blinked once, then again. “Pregnant.”

  Mal nodded. “Pregnant.”

  Nothing happened for a moment, then Hunter started laughing. Softly at first, then a disjointed chuckling, and then it rolled into deep belly laughs that shook him until he had to brace his hands on his knees.