hard.”
I was wrong. Hunter is a romantic.
He’s not a conventional romantic, in the hearts and flowers kind of way. Not in the carriage rides in the park or cheesy, overpriced dinners.
He’s romantic when I least expect it.
It’s in the way he makes me feel like the most important person in the room. Now, I know it’s not just a feeling. He really does look at me like that.
It’s in the way he took me out for a drink that first night instead of going home with Janice from Accounting—or someone else for that matter. Instead, he came to my rescue when I was about to drown my sorrows.
It’s in the way he showed up like a white knight at the shelter. He went above and beyond for those men, not wanting an ounce of thanks.
It’s in the snow globe gift, so perfect and full of understanding.
It’s in the ridiculous pair of socks that I am lucky enough to take home, which cherishes my worst quality.
It’s in the way he looks my way to make sure I’m okay.
It’s in his smile, his eyes, his deep breaths.
My mouth parts, and my chest rises as Hunter lays a hand on my waist and pulls me in for a kiss. My hands find his arms, tugging him in as our tongues caress and lips grab hold of each other. The dizzying feeling taking over my body, straight down to my toes, shouldn’t surprise me.
He leans back, inhaling a shaky breath as he moves my hair out of my face, asking, “Are you ready to call it a night? I’ll walk you to your bedroom.”
I lean into his touch. “I thought I’d come to the pool house with you for a while.”
So much is implied in my statement. Even more is said by the way his body tenses and his breath hitches, and then a sexy grin builds across his beautiful lips.
Without another word, he takes my hand as we walk out the back door and down the lit path toward the pool house. The few steps we have to take from the house to where he slept last night are brief but freezing. Hunter and I move with rapid steps through the chill.
When we enter the pool house, he flicks the lights on, and I see it’s much more than a house for changing into a bathing suit. There’s a game room with a pool table, indoor shower, and even a mini kitchen. What surprises me the most is the huge stone fireplace that sits at the far end of the room with a television above it.
Hunter hits a button on the wall, and the blinds lower. He motions for me to take a seat on the large sectional in front of the fireplace.
I kick off my boots and sit on the couch, watching as he kneels by the hearth.
“You like your fires,” I say.
“I like a girl who likes fires.” He grins, and my heart melts.
Sitting in front of a fire is how I’ve spent the past two days with his family, and yet this is the first time I actually feel nervous. I’m not nervous because I’m afraid he’ll reject me or that things between us won’t go right. I’m nervous because I have a feeling it’s going to be sensational.
I’ve never had sensational.
As the log slowly catches fire, Hunter leans back and closes the screen. He turns to me, and my core clenches in anxious anticipation as he runs a hand along his tousled hair.
He takes a thick fur blanket from the back of the couch and lays it down in front of the fire. There are several throw pillows on the sofa, which he lays down as well before reaching his hand out to me, asking me to join him.
I rise from the couch and stand in front of him. The lights are dim, and the fire crackles next to us, casting a soft orange glow over his face. We stand next to each other. Me staring up into his darkened eyes and him with his head tilted down. His long, deft finger glides down the side of my neck, skimming across my décolletage and stopping at the base of my throat. It sends a shiver through my spine.
His lips part as he lets out a breath, and I don’t miss how shaky it is.
“Kiss me, Hunter,” I say with bated breath.
He takes direction well. With his hand placed firmly on my hip, he pulls me in and lets his