And I Love You (12 page)

Every minute he spent with her, no matter what they were doing, confirmed what he’d suspected for some time now—there could be something special between them. Listening to her share her worries and hearing the pain in her voice had made something inside him rise up in protest, wanting to ensure she never felt that way again.

Hearing that she’d tried to outrun her pain by giving herself to other guys had made him want to kill someone, not that he’d let her see that. No, the worst thing he could ever do is let her think he was judging her when he wasn’t. How could he pretend to know what it had been like to suddenly lose the two most important people in her life at the tender age of eighteen?

If she’d found a way to manage the pain, so be it. That was then, this was now, and hearing how she’d reacted to the aftermath of her loss only made him more determined to make sure nothing ever hurt her again.

“Where’re we going?” she asked, breaking a lengthy silence.

Drawn out of his thoughts by her question, Hunter glanced over at her. “I don’t know yet. I thought we’d take a ride and see what looks good to us.”

In the faint light coming from the dashboard, he thought he saw her smile. “I figured you’d have this evening planned down to the last minute.”

“Usually I would, but tonight I wanted to do something different and be more spontaneous.”

“Spontaneous. Is that painful for you?”

“Why do I have a feeling you’re making fun of me?”

“I would never do that.”

“Yes, I think you would.” He loved to see her playful side emerging. She was always so serious and contained. Now he knew why. She kept a tight rein on her emotions as a shield against being hurt again. Understanding that about her was like being given the keys to her inner workings. He would guard and protect those keys with everything he had for as long as he was lucky enough to have her in his life.

“You’re awfully quiet over there, which makes me wonder what you’re thinking about.”

“I’m thinking about you, which I do a lot.”

“What in particular?” she asked.

“That I’m glad you told me what you did earlier.”

“I’m ashamed of what I told you. I wish you didn’t know that about me.”

“It’s part of who you are, and I want to know who you are. I want to understand you, because if I understand you, I can make sure I don’t do anything to hurt you.”

After a long pause, she said, “Since last night … I’ve felt like I’m living in some sort of fairy tale or something.”

“The one where the handsome, dashing accountant scoops you up and takes you away from all your troubles?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

He hadn’t expected such a serious reply to his teasing comment, but it pleased him deeply to know she felt that way. Reaching across the center console, he took her hand and had to remember he was driving when she curled both her hands around his.

Hunter kept his eyes on the road, even though he preferred looking at her. He wanted to know what she was thinking, but he didn’t ask. There’d be time for that later. Right now he wanted to enjoy having her riding next to him, holding his hand with an entire evening stretched out before them to spend any way they wished to.

He decided there was definitely something to be said for spontaneity when it involved her.

They drove for a long time through dark, winding mountain roads. Hunter had no idea where they were and didn’t care. A touch of a button on the GPS could get them home, but for the moment, he was rather enjoying being “lost” with Megan.

A roadside tavern appeared in the headlights. “What do you think?”

“Looks good to me.”

Hunter signaled and then pulled off the road, laughing when he saw the name of the place: Pig’s Belly Tavern and Publick House. “You can tell our grandchildren I brought you to the Pig’s Belly Tavern for our first date.”

“It’ll make for a good story.”

Her comeback filled him with foolish hope for a future with her that was far from assured.
Don’t get ahead of yourself. First date. Go slow.
Reluctantly, he withdrew his hand from her grasp to shut off the engine. “Wait for me. I’ll come around for you.”

As he walked around the car, he repeated the “go slow” refrain. But after holding her and kissing her—and having her kiss him back so enthusiastically—it wasn’t easy. All he could think about was when he might get to kiss her again. He opened the passenger door and held it for her as she turned to him.

“Hunter?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think, before we go in there, you might want to …” She looked at him expectantly. “Kiss me again?”

He reached up to kill the dome light before he put his arms around her and forgot all about going slow when he realized her enthusiasm more than equaled his. His knees went weak under him, and his blood felt like it was on fire as it rushed through his veins. Then her hands were under his sweater on his back, moving restlessly.

“God, Megan,” he said when he had no choice but to breathe. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“What do I do? Tell me.”

“You make me forget this is our first date.” He kissed her neck and made her moan when he dragged his tongue over her soft skin. “You make me want like I’ve never wanted anything or anyone.” More kisses, until he reached her earlobe, which he bit down on, just hard enough to make her gasp. “You make me want you in my bed or your bed or the first bed we can find, and I haven’t even bought you dinner yet.”

Her husky, lusty laugh made him harder, if that was possible. “You bought me pizza last night.”

“That’s true. I did.” He kissed her again, already addicted to the sweet taste of her. “But pizza doesn’t make for as good a story as the Pig’s Belly Tavern.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“You aren’t a vegetarian, are you? Because if you are, I’m not sure the Pig’s Belly is the place for you.”

“I was way back when, but I’m not anymore.”

“That’s a relief.”

“You suppose it’s all pig all the time here?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m dying of curiosity.” He could tell he surprised her when he lifted her right out of the SUV, bumped the door closed behind him and then let her slide down the aroused front of him.

“Nice move.”

“Thanks. Wait till you see the rest of them.”

“I can’t wait.”

Hunter drew in a deep breath, releasing it in rattling increments.

“What?” she asked. “Did I say the wrong thing?”

“Hardly. You said the exact right thing. I’m still trying to believe I’m really here with you, that I can touch you and kiss you and put my arm around you outside the Pig’s Belly. I’ve wanted to do all of that for so long. You have no idea how long.”

“I’m glad you finally got to come to the Pig’s Belly,” she said with a sly smile as she looked up at him.

Hunter laughed. “The Pig is the least of it, as you well know.”

“I’m still trying to believe you really feel that way about me.”

“I really do.”

“You still haven’t said why.”

“Some things can’t be easily explained. They just
are
.”

“And this just
is
for you?”

“Yes, you are.” He put his arms around her again, drew her in close to him and kept his eyes open and fixed on her as he brought his lips down on hers for a sweet, undemanding kiss that was better than the best sex he’d had with anyone else. And when she curled her arms around his neck and leaned into him, pressing her body against his suggestively, he came damn close to saying to hell with the Pig.

“Food first,” he said. “More kissing later.”

“Mmm,” she said against his lips, making him want to beg for mercy. “Promise?”

“Most definitely.”

“Okay then.” She dropped her arms from around his neck. “Hunter?”

“Yeah?”

“I really like kissing you and everything, but I still don’t want this to be a big deal between us. You said you don’t want to hurt me … I don’t want to hurt you either. There’s no reason we can’t have a lot of fun together without it getting serious.”

“I’ve been warned. It’s all good.”

“You’re sure?”

“Very sure.” Hunter kept his arm around her and tried to will his raging erection into submission before they got to the tavern entrance. “Wait.” He dropped his arm from around her shoulders. “I need a minute.”

“What? Oh.” She pressed her hand to her mouth, but that didn’t do much to muffle the sound of her laughter.

“It’s not funny.”

“Yes, it is.”

With her laughter only making his problem worse, he ran his fingers through his hair and walked in circles, thinking about accounts payable and receivable and every other unsexy thing that came to mind. But none of those images could trump the one of Megan, sitting in his passenger seat, asking him to kiss her. That would stay with him long after this first date was a distant memory.

It took a while, but Hunter finally felt as if he could walk into the restaurant without embarrassing himself or Megan. He gestured for her to lead the way.

“Are you sure?” she asked in that teasing tone he was already growing to love. He hadn’t expected that from her, but what might’ve annoyed him coming from one of his siblings was perfect coming from her.

“As sure as I’ll ever be.”

T
he Pig’s Belly was more or less what Hunter expected—more in the sense that it was crowded, and less in the way of atmosphere, of which there was none. At least not what he’d consider atmosphere.

“This is great.” Megan smiled at the huge bronze statue of a full-bellied pig standing upright that greeted them inside the door. “How have I never heard of it?”

“Can’t imagine.” Seeing her bright smile, Hunter decided atmosphere was overrated if all it took to make her happy was a big bronze pig.

They were shown to a table and handed menus that featured pig, pork and more pig.

“I’m torn between the ribs and the pig’s feet,” he said after reviewing the limited menu.

“Don’t overlook the pork chop.”

“Always a favorite.”

“I’m thinking about the knuckles myself.”

“Really?” he asked, sort of horrified at the thought of actually eating pig knuckles—or watching her do it.

She laughed at the face he made at her. “No, not really.”

“Thank goodness.”

“I’m going with ribs. Seems safe enough.”

“Make that two.”

They ordered the ribs with sides of fries, coleslaw and baked beans along with two draft beers.

“I’m going to tell the grandchildren you got the knuckles,” Hunter said after their beverages arrived.

“I’ll tell them you got the testicles.”

He nearly snorted beer out his nose. “That wasn’t on the menu.”

She shrugged. “You think they’ll check?”

“Good to know you’re not above making things up to suit your agenda.”

“I’ve been doing that since I was a little kid.”

“Making things up?”

Nodding, she said, “Stories of all kinds.”

“Do you write?”

“One of my other favorite things to do. I’ve been writing all my life.”

Fascinated by the revelation, Hunter leaned in closer so he could hear her better. He didn’t want to miss a thing. “What sort of stories?”

“All kinds. Romance, mostly, but some fantasy and science fiction stuff, too.”

“Have you done anything with them?”

She shook her head and took a sip from her glass. “It’s a hobby. Nothing more.” Returning the glass to the table, she glanced at him, as if there were something else she wanted to say.

Under the table, he reached for her hand. “Tell me.”

Hesitating, she fixated on the rough-hewn wooden wall on the far side of the room. “I’d planned to go to Middlebury to study writing. Before.”

He understood that she meant before her parents were killed. Her life was divided into before and after. “Why didn’t you go? Was it because of the money?”

“No, they left us in pretty good shape with the insurance and their savings. It was more because I lost the desire to write for a really long time afterward. It didn’t seem to make much sense to go to school for it if I couldn’t do it.”

“It came back eventually?”

“Yeah. Took years though, and by then it was too late.”

“It’s never too late. You know that, don’t you?”

“It was too late for Middlebury. I was never a big fan of school to begin with, and the thought of going back now is extremely unappealing. Who knows if I would’ve been able to cut it there anyway? One of the last conversations I had with my dad was him telling me I needed better study habits if I was going to survive there and me arguing that I was good enough to get in, so that had to count for something.”

Hunter watched her try to shake off the unpleasant memory.

“Sorry.” She forced a smile. “Didn’t mean to drag down the mood.”

“You didn’t. Not at all. I want to hear about your parents. I’d like to know them as much as I’d like to know you.”

“That’s really nice of you. They were good people, even if I liked to fight with them.”

“That’s your job when you’re a teenager.”

“Still … I wish I’d done less of it. If I’d known I had so little time with them …”