him… Glancing at the wall clock, I added fifteen hours. It would be midafternoon there now. Yes, good plan. Now I just needed to get the hell out of here before the tension suffocated me.
“I’ll carry them,” Hunter said when I reached for the design books. I didn’t bother putting up a complaint, seeing as my arms still felt like Jell-O. The effect he had on me was lingering, and I didn’t like that a damn bit.
He seemed to sense my mood and stayed quiet as he followed me to my car. After putting the books on the floor of the backseat, he rested his hand on the door. Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed, and then said, “Ryleigh, I—”
“I need to get going,” I interrupted. “Thank you for the books. I’ll keep them somewhere safe.” I quickly slid into the driver’s seat before he could say any more. Though I wouldn’t meet his eyes, I knew he was staring at me.
After a long moment, he let out a heavy breath and shut the back door. “Drive safe.”
Nodding, I put the car in gear and didn’t bother looking his way before flying down the street.
What was Hunter playing at? He knew I was interested in Cameron, yet everything in me was screaming warnings that the guy was looking to make his move. Unless I was reading the signs wrong, and I didn’t think I was.
Hunter wasn’t giving up until, true to his name, he’d successfully hunted and captured his prey.
His prey being…me.
MY STOMACH HAD been in knots for over twenty-four hours. Hunter would be picking me up any minute, and I was struggling not to bite off every one of my nails while I waited. After leaving his house Saturday night, I’d been restless, half tempted to call off the trip and invest in plastic chairs and cups.
Maybe I was reading too much into this. He was a flirty guy, yeah, but he hadn’t actually tried anything with me. I bet he did that with all the girls. A few hours in the car would be no big deal. I’d even brought a pair of headphones and stashed them in my purse in case of an emergency—like listening to country music.
Hunter’s black truck pulled into a space in front of the shop, and he jumped out, dressed casually in jeans and a white shirt. He looked freshly showered…and utterly delicious.
He opened the passenger’s-side door for me and grinned. “Mornin’, sunshine.”
I tried for a smile. “Good morning.”
“You know, for someone who’s about to go shopping, I thought you’d be more excited.”
Hoping he wouldn’t see right through me, I slid onto the seat and said, “Maybe we can stop for some caffeine?”
“I thought you might say that,” Hunter said when he’d gotten in the truck. He pulled a coffee cup out of the center console and handed it to me before sipping out of his own.
“Pickup service and coffee. I could get used to that.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to take them back. I didn’t mean I could get used to him picking me up and getting me coffee every day, because that would imply something I was not thinking about. I had just meant in general. Of course.
Luckily, he didn’t comment, just gave me a half-smile and pulled out onto the road.
I took a sip, and wouldn’t you know it—the coffee was delicious, just like the man who’d made it. But he’d added some kind of sweetener I couldn’t pinpoint.
“What did you put in this?” I asked.
“Can’t tell you that.”
“Why? Some kind of secret recipe?”
“Special recipe, yes.”
“Like…?”
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “You can call it Hunter’s sweet cream—ow.” Hunter rubbed his arm where I’d punched him. “What? You asked.”
“Is it possible for you to stay PG during this trip?”
“I don’t know, is it possible you could keep your hands to yourself, Tyson?”
“Yes.”
“Then maybe.”
I sighed and drank my coffee in silence as he pulled onto the freeway. He looked like a car model with his
“I’ll carry them,” Hunter said when I reached for the design books. I didn’t bother putting up a complaint, seeing as my arms still felt like Jell-O. The effect he had on me was lingering, and I didn’t like that a damn bit.
He seemed to sense my mood and stayed quiet as he followed me to my car. After putting the books on the floor of the backseat, he rested his hand on the door. Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed, and then said, “Ryleigh, I—”
“I need to get going,” I interrupted. “Thank you for the books. I’ll keep them somewhere safe.” I quickly slid into the driver’s seat before he could say any more. Though I wouldn’t meet his eyes, I knew he was staring at me.
After a long moment, he let out a heavy breath and shut the back door. “Drive safe.”
Nodding, I put the car in gear and didn’t bother looking his way before flying down the street.
What was Hunter playing at? He knew I was interested in Cameron, yet everything in me was screaming warnings that the guy was looking to make his move. Unless I was reading the signs wrong, and I didn’t think I was.
Hunter wasn’t giving up until, true to his name, he’d successfully hunted and captured his prey.
His prey being…me.
MY STOMACH HAD been in knots for over twenty-four hours. Hunter would be picking me up any minute, and I was struggling not to bite off every one of my nails while I waited. After leaving his house Saturday night, I’d been restless, half tempted to call off the trip and invest in plastic chairs and cups.
Maybe I was reading too much into this. He was a flirty guy, yeah, but he hadn’t actually tried anything with me. I bet he did that with all the girls. A few hours in the car would be no big deal. I’d even brought a pair of headphones and stashed them in my purse in case of an emergency—like listening to country music.
Hunter’s black truck pulled into a space in front of the shop, and he jumped out, dressed casually in jeans and a white shirt. He looked freshly showered…and utterly delicious.
He opened the passenger’s-side door for me and grinned. “Mornin’, sunshine.”
I tried for a smile. “Good morning.”
“You know, for someone who’s about to go shopping, I thought you’d be more excited.”
Hoping he wouldn’t see right through me, I slid onto the seat and said, “Maybe we can stop for some caffeine?”
“I thought you might say that,” Hunter said when he’d gotten in the truck. He pulled a coffee cup out of the center console and handed it to me before sipping out of his own.
“Pickup service and coffee. I could get used to that.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to take them back. I didn’t mean I could get used to him picking me up and getting me coffee every day, because that would imply something I was not thinking about. I had just meant in general. Of course.
Luckily, he didn’t comment, just gave me a half-smile and pulled out onto the road.
I took a sip, and wouldn’t you know it—the coffee was delicious, just like the man who’d made it. But he’d added some kind of sweetener I couldn’t pinpoint.
“What did you put in this?” I asked.
“Can’t tell you that.”
“Why? Some kind of secret recipe?”
“Special recipe, yes.”
“Like…?”
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “You can call it Hunter’s sweet cream—ow.” Hunter rubbed his arm where I’d punched him. “What? You asked.”
“Is it possible for you to stay PG during this trip?”
“I don’t know, is it possible you could keep your hands to yourself, Tyson?”
“Yes.”
“Then maybe.”
I sighed and drank my coffee in silence as he pulled onto the freeway. He looked like a car model with his
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