In Strange Woods - Claire Cray Page 0,86

James added, his initial burst of confidence settling into something slightly humbler.

Hunter nodded again, a small smile touching his lips. “Sure.”

James’s heart rose, because there was a sweet, hopeless look in Hunter’s eyes that seemed very promising. Patience, he reminded himself. Don’t push it. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah.” Hunter leaned back and reached for his wallet.

“I’ve got it,” James insisted, taking out his own, but Hunter continued to search his pockets with a frown.

“Damn,” Hunter muttered. “Must have left my wallet up at Cedar Crest…”

“Oh, shit.” James counted out enough bills to include a generous tip and laid them on the table. “Where’s that?”

“Here in Brooks.”

“You wanna go look for it?” When Hunter looked torn, James added, “Can I come? I’ve been inside most of the day.” And he was on a mission to prove that he could be both chill and reliable.

“Yeah?” Hunter’s face brightened at the suggestion. “All right. Let’s do it.”

“Cedar Crest,” James repeated as they exited the diner and turned toward the sea front. “Pretty name.”

“Pretty place, actually.” As they walked away from the diner and onto the deserted sea front, Hunter reached out and put his hand on James’s shoulder. “It’s nice hanging out with you, James.”

James flashed him a smile, hoping they were thinking the same thing: That the chemistry between them wasn’t just a result of the weirdly intense situation James had brought here. It was something else, something all their own. While he was dying to know how Hunter really felt about the hypothetical conversation they’d just had, the signs were encouraging. The answers would come.

The tide was low, and the waves below the sea wall were unusually subdued. They climbed into Hunter’s truck, James feeling increasingly optimistic as he settled back in the seat. The engine started, and ‘Since I’ve Been Loving You’ by Led Zeppelin came blasting out of the speakers before Hunter turned it down. James reached out and turned it back up, earning a quick grin from Hunter as he pulled the truck out onto the road.

It was a short drive around the edge of town and along a winding road that ascended steeply through a tunnel of trees. Then Hunter turned onto a gravel driveway and down a little hill to a wooded bluff overlooking the sea. There was a small clearing amid the tall stands of cedar trees, and in the clearing stood a strikingly designed house made of wood, stone and glass.

“What is this?” James asked in wonder, leaning over the dashboard to peer at the midcentury modern seaside cabin. “Is this yours? I mean, are you working on this?”

“Yeah.” Hunter unfastened his seatbelt. “Uh, you wanna come in? I might have to look around.”

“I’ll help.” James eagerly followed him out of the car, his eyes fastened to the house. “What are you doing with this? What’s the project? Jesus, what a house. Who owns—”

Hunter had caught his hand and, before he could react, captured his mouth. His hand slid up James’s back to cradle the back of his head, fingers dipping into his hair, guiding him into a deeper kiss.

James moaned low in his chest, grabbing Hunter’s jacket and pulling their bodies flush, relishing every hot slant of his lips. The cold ocean wind blew through his hair, making the heat between their bodies even more intense. When they parted they were both breathing a little harder, silver puffs of fog escaping on the wind.

Hunter smiled and took his hand again, pulling him toward the house. “Come on.”

James wrapped his fingers tightly around Hunter’s palm as they walked up onto the cedar deck to the door at the side of the house. “So, what’s with this place?”

“Some Portland artist had it built in the Sixties.” Hunter punched a security code into a small black console and then unlocked the door with a key on his key ring. “It got a shitty makeover at some point. Guy who owns it now wanted to update it, bring the value up. Gave me free rein within budget, so it’s been fun.”

Unsurprisingly, James fell in love as soon as Hunter flipped on the lights. The front of the house was glass on all three sides, promising panoramic views of the coastline through the trees in the daylight. His eyes wandered adoringly over the spacious living area, all clean lines and white walls and rich, warm wood. From the subtle recessed lighting to the beautifully grained baseboards, every element put his senses at ease.

“Where the hell’d I