by Sue MacKay
She was staring right back, the overhead light making her face harsh yet highlighting the longing in her eyes. ‘Hunter.’
His heart missed a beat. Then another. The breath he’d just inhaled hurt in his chest. His tongue glued itself to the roof of his mouth. Leave. Now. Please.
Her shoulders lifted, fell softly, and then her hand was on his chest. ‘I know what we said about nothing happening between us again, but—’ Her hand clenched into a small fist, knocked on his sternum. ‘Can we have this one night?’
His arms reached for her, lifted her up against his chest and he leaned down to kiss her softly on those delightful lips. ‘Open the door, Bren,’ he gasped through the need roaring through his body from his hard-on to his chest to his mouth. ‘Now.’
Down the hallway into her bedroom, right up to that enormous bed she apparently slept in all by herself. What a waste. But not tonight. Tonight they’d make love, pile up more memories, and worry about where this wasn’t going tomorrow. He set her on those amazing heels, turned her round slowly, savouring the view in the light thrown by a bedside lamp she must’ve left on earlier. He palmed her shoulders, spread his fingers across her satin skin, closing in on the zip that held that figure-defining dress in place. His mouth found her neck, where he laved the sweet skin behind her earlobe.
‘Hunter,’ she whispered. ‘Let me touch you.’
‘No way, sweetheart. This is for you. One touch from you and it’ll be all over for me.’ His desire was explosive. It wasn’t happening until he’d made Brenna fall apart in his hands. Right on cue her lithe body shook. Her head tipped back so that her wild hair spilled down her back as he tugged the zip down to the top of her bottom. Then she stepped forward, to shimmy out of the dress. He gasped as her perfectly curved bottom in the red lace G-string moved from side to side. Then she turned to face him, swinging her hips in the same way she’d done on the dance floor earlier. Her full breasts in their lace cups swayed in time with her hips. Her widespread hands slid over them, pausing to rub her nipples before moving lower, over her belly to the lacy V that was the front of her panties.
Hunter groaned. ‘Don’t do this to me.’ Yet he was incapable of moving, his eyes tracing every movement of those fingers, his body thrumming with desire, his head whirling.
Her lips lifted into a sensual smile, teasing and taunting him. ‘Or what?’
‘Or I’ll throw you on the bed and take you. Now. Urgently.’
‘Perfect.’ She reached for him, using his tie to tug him close. Held on as she sank to the bed, and began dealing with his belt and trousers, his boxers. And, at last, his body. With her mouth.
‘No, Bren,’ he gasped. ‘No. Not yet.’ He had to touch her, feel her need. Now. Pulling back, he reached for her head, lifted it away from him, before sweeping her up and spinning around to sink onto the bed with her straddling him. ‘Ladies first.’
And his hands and mouth proceeded to show her exactly what he meant by that. When she cried out with such need and relief and depth in her voice, he finally sank into her heat and knew he’d come home. If only temporarily.
There was nothing temporary about the rest of the night. Neither was there much sleep, just snatched minutes before he’d reach for Brenna again, or roll into her arms as she gripped him and began touching, tasting, giving herself.
When the sun lightened the edges around the curtains, they both looked at each other and smiled.
‘I’m exhausted,’ Brenna said. ‘I’m not getting up till I have to get ready to go to lunch with my sisters.’
‘I’m starving and exhausted,’ he gave back. ‘What’s for breakfast?’
‘Ow!’ She winced. ‘I didn’t do the shopping yesterday.’
Hunter sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. ‘I’m going out to get bagels and smoked salmon, and proper coffee. Then I have to go. I’ve got the movers coming at nine.’
Brenna shot upright, her eyes wide. ‘I totally forgot it’s moving day for you. Why a Sunday and not Saturday, like normal people?’
‘Because I had a wedding to go to, and Dave wouldn’t have been available.’ He ducked through the door into the en suite bathroom. A quick shower was needed before anything else.
‘What can I do to help? Unpack boxes, set up your kitchen?’ Brenna followed him into the bathroom. ‘I’ve got a few hours free.’
‘Get back to bed and play catch-up on that sleep you want until I bring back the breakfast. As for unpacking, there’s not a lot to do and anyway Jess has taken charge of the kitchen. Mostly dumping her old stuff on me. Not that there’s anything wrong with her last dinner set or the salad bowls and casserole dishes she put away when a whole new lot was delivered last week.’
Brenna laughed. ‘You’re getting the cast-offs, eh? Didn’t you bring your own things from Kamloops?’
The water was hot and worked at his muscles as he soaped away the scents from the night. ‘There wasn’t much I liked, most of it being from the cottage at the orchard. In other words, rubbish. A mix of Mum’s old sets.’ Nothing like the one decent collection of Wedgwood blue dishes, plates and bowls stacked in Brenna’s cupboards.
‘So, you don’t want me to help?’ There was something wistful going on in her eyes.
Which made him feel a heel when he said, ‘Thanks, but there’re going to be too many people hanging around already. Jess will be bringing the kids with her as well. Bedlam.’ Having Brenna in his house, opening boxes of books or mugs, as he moved in and got established in the new life he’d been dreaming of raised the stakes about where they were headed. He wasn’t ready for that. Despite the incredible night they’d just shared, he had to think about how far he was prepared to go with her.
The brakes had to go on until he was a hundred per cent sure what he wanted for the future. He wasn’t about to set Bren up only to hurt her again.
So why stay last night?
Like he’d been able to say no to her.
The bathroom door closed with a loud click, but not before he saw the withdrawal darkening her eyes.
His heart was heavy as he lathed his skin with soap. The words that slid across his lips unprintable. Again, he’d stuffed up with Bren. What was the harm in having her help unpack his gear? He didn’t want her just as a woman to make love to and then get up and disappear out the door, but having her in his house, leaving her scent, her presence in the rooms for him never to be able to avoid her if it became apparent he had to, wasn’t on. Snapping the water off, he snatched up a towel from a pile stacked on a stool. It smelt of jasmine and Bren. His lungs expanded as he breathed her in. Brenna. His Bren.
Was he falling in love with her all over again? Or had he never fallen out of love? Was that why he and Evie hadn’t made it? Had he been too distracted by the woman who’d held his heart? The same questions he’d found himself asking over and over since first seeing Brenna again, and still no straight answers. He’d worked so damned hard to get over her, to shove her out of his life so he wouldn’t go begging for a second chance, and he’d thought he’d succeeded.
He might’ve spent the intervening years having moments of longing for that smile, those curves, the attitude that told him where to go when she didn’t agree with him, but he had stopped loving her. Or so he’d thought.
Hunter’s skin lifted in cold bumps. If he still loved her, where did it lead? Brenna had been quick to kiss him, even quicker to get him into her bed last night, but he doubted she’d have him back other than as a friend with benefits. He’d hurt her when he’d called their relationship off. While she hadn’t tried to stop him going—he wasn’t admitting to her calls that he’d refused to answer—and she hadn’t made a move to go to Kamloops to be with him, in her eyes he’d deserted her as her birth mother had in the past. Almost as though she expected people to dump her, which was hardly fair on her father, who’d stayed around all her life.
Back in her bedroom he found his shirt on the floor where it’d been dropped in their frenzy to get naked with each other. Pulling it over his head, he looked around the neat room with its feminine furnishings and smiled. No photos of hair-raising skiers or parachutists in here. The only photos were of her father and stepmother, and her sisters. No one else. This was Brenna’s room, her haven from the world, the place she tended to her soft side. His smile dipped. The room felt lonely.
He found her in the conservatory off the kitchen, a mug of hot water clasped in her hands, a thick navy robe wrapped around her slim body, and Poppy sitting at her feet. That sense of loneliness grew inside him. This was a side to Brenna he hadn’t known before. Because it hadn’t been there then? Another thing he was responsible for?
‘Hey,’ he called softly. ‘I’ll be back shortly with the bagels.’ It was the least he could do.
Those curls had become riotous overnight and now they hung over her cheeks like curtains, hiding most of that still expression. Most of it, not all. ‘Don’t get me one. I’ll find something in the freezer when I’m ready for breakfast.’ She sounded as though food was the last thing she needed.
Brenna wanted him gone, not coming back with a smile and a bag with something to eat in it. ‘Fine.’
What else could he say? Come round for a celebratory drink later when I’ve unpacked the glasses? Not that he didn’t want to show her his home. He wanted to very much, and yet he didn’t.
His phone vibrated. Digging it out of his pocket, he grimaced. ‘Mum.’ Letting the call go to voice mail he noticed there were two other missed calls.
‘She’s up early.’ There was censure in Brenna’s voice. Did she think he’d be racing back to Kamloops today? Any day?
Not that he could fault her for that. He’d done it before. He hadn’t talked to her about his folks since returning to Vancouver, hadn’t told her much at all about anything important. ‘She’s still learning I’m not there to jump every time she wants something.’
She was staring out of the conservatory, her knuckles white around that mug. ‘It’s a hard one, that.’
So, she definitely still had issues about his family. ‘I’ve moved here for good, Brenna. No matter what happens, I am not going back to Kamloops.’
Silence. Tense and heavy.
He rushed on, needing to explain himself. ‘I’ve made sure there are support systems in place, and the medical people at the retirement village are up to speed with Dad’s depression bouts.’
‘They’re serious?’
He nodded. ‘Very. You won’t find a headache pill anywhere in the house because of them.’
‘He’s tried to commit suicide?’ Understanding was dawning in her face, as was disappointment—in him. ‘You never once told me about this. I thought we had a strong relationship.’
He squirmed. ‘I’m sorry, but it’s hard to tell people your dad’s suicidal and selfish and all the rest of what goes on with his depression. I told a close friend once and he never looked at me the same again. As a teen I used to worry I might turn out the same. It wasn’t until I moved to Vancouver, away from it all, and could spread my wings, that I knew for certain I am nothing like my father.’
‘I still should have known.’
‘I tried more than once to say something, but the words kept banking up in my throat. I had this irrational fear that if I told you it might turn out I mightn’t be the happy, hardworking guy you knew.’ He drew a deep breath. ‘Now it’s all about looking out for Dylan.’
‘You could do that in Kamloops.’
‘To a certain extent, but it isn’t the life I have worked for. I feel most at home here, in a vibrant city where I’ve got friends who believe in me, where I can do the work I trained for on a larger scale, where Dylan can grow up unshackled by his grandparents’ need to force their woes onto him.’
Now he had her attention. Her eyes widened as they locked on him. She straightened her back and really looked at him. ‘They what?’ she demanded.
He shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the shaking that had started up. Against his fingers the phone started vibrating again. Blindly pressing buttons till it stopped, he took a breath and spilled.
‘They’re already grooming Dylan to do as they want. Mum tells him how Dad hears voices in his head and that Dylan has to be careful or Granddad will tell the monsters to get him.’ He might be being disloyal, but he was fighting for his integrity here. He needed Brenna to believe in him again. Didn’t matter if they had a future or not, she had to believe in him like she once had. ‘Dad demands my lad be his general runabout, getting things, doing jobs that are beyond a four-year-old.’
‘That’s wrong.’
‘Yes, it is.’ He knew too well where it would have led if he hadn’t taken Dylan out of the picture. He’d had the same grooming all his life. Except for when he’d been living in Vancouver. His parents had given him space then, for a few years, and he’d begun to believe he was free to get on with his own goals. But the cord had been there all along, and when they’d begun winding it in, playing on his guilt for the quad-bike accident when he was a kid believing he was helping them, he’d gone along with it. ‘It’s not happening any more.’ To Dylan or to him. He had paid his dues.
‘Good.’ There wasn’t a lot of conviction in that one word.
‘Brenna, I know what I have to do and I’m getting on with it.’ Pulling his hands free, he crossed to her and leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek. ‘Believe me.’
Please.
CHAPTER SIX
‘HOW DID THE move go?’ Brenna asked Hunter as they sat with the rest of the crew members in the rescue centre’s kitchen, eating dinner. She wasn’t avoiding the subject and how he hadn’t wanted her helping. That would be giving it too much importance. It stung, though, because it showed how he felt about anything more than a friendship, and even that had boundaries. Kisses and sex fine, domesticity not.
‘Not bad. I could do with more furniture. I’d thought the house was quite small but there’re a lot of empty spaces.’ Hunter leaned back in his chair, plate in one hand, fork in the other, scooping up noodles and green curry from his Thai takeout.
‘What do you need?’ Andy asked. ‘We’ve got a second house lot stored in our garage from Mel’s mother’s place. You’re welcome to help yourself to anything you fancy.’
‘Thanks for the offer,’ Hunter answered. ‘But I’m looking forward to going shopping and having a crack at matching up furniture with the rooms and eventually the colours.’
‘Study colour charts first.’ Brenna smiled. They were on nights this week and so far the shift had been slow, only one callout for her crew to pick up an elderly gentleman from another cruise ship who’d fallen and broken his hip while trying to prove to a woman he could do a backward flip into the swimming pool. Those cruises weren’t always as safe as people expected.
‘I’ll talk to an interior decorator,’ Hunter agreed, a light smile going on over those lips that had turned her on something shocking on Saturday night.
Pushing away from the table, Brenna took her plate to scrape away the remains of her meal. Her appetite had been subdued since Hunter’s revelations about his father’s depression and how Dylan had been treated. She now understood his determination to make the move here work, but his parents could be extremely persuasive when it came to getting their way. Water dripping on stone came to mind. Hunter had already had at least one call from his mother since starting work three and a half hours ago.
‘Does Dylan like his new home?’ It would be a major problem if he didn’t.
‘He didn’t want to go to Jess and Dave’s tonight. I think he’s worried we won’t go back home in the morning when I finish here. He’s as happy as a piglet in muck there and has used sticks from the neighbour’s trees to mark out where the dog kennel’s going. Shame it’s where I intend putting in a v
egetable garden.’ Hunter smiled, a wistful gleam in his eyes as he watched her.
‘Dog or fresh veg. Quite the dilemma,’ she agreed, while thinking how he should’ve talked about his home life other than glossing over the basics when they had been a couple. Relationships like theirs were meant to be open and honest, otherwise what was the point? Now she knew, she had to go back to keeping some distance between them. Hunter had made it as plain as white flour that there was not a lot of room for her in his life, the occasional occurrences they’d already shared being the exceptions. She’d been warned—don’t get close.
If it isn’t already too late.
The plate slid from her lifeless fingers and hit the tiles, shattering into jagged pieces. ‘Damn.’ It couldn’t be. She wasn’t in the habit of giving her heart away easily, if at all. Or had she never really gained it back from Hunter the first time?
‘Saves washing it,’ Hunter quipped.
Smart-ass. Did nothing rattle him? Bending down, she began picking up the shards and dumping them in the bin. She knew Hunter got wound up quicker than a rope on a pulley when someone he cared about was being hurt. Except he didn’t seem to notice how he hurt her.
‘Think I’ll try for some shut-eye while it’s quiet.’ There were single bedrooms upstairs for the night shift crews. Not that Brenna expected to drop off—it wasn’t yet ten o’clock, but she had to get away from Hunter. She might be feeling relaxed but every time he said or did anything she felt herself winding tight again. Saturday night had been wild, and she wanted more—without the rest. Without knowing how he intended staying here and leaving his parents to cope, without knowing how focused he was on getting it right for Dylan, without knowing he really meant this to be for ever.
Because now she understood how important this all was for Hunter she couldn’t go for half-measures. It was all or nothing, especially with Dylan to consider. And she worried Hunter would never compromise enough to make a life work that included all of them. And if he couldn’t then it had to be nothing. If only Saturday night in bed hadn’t cranked up the hope for more than sex. That wasn’t happening again. Nothing was the word to live by now.
