“Why is your last name Faraday and not Carlson?”
Hunter chuckled into the phone. “Hello to you too.”
I stayed quiet, waiting for him to answer.
Over a month had passed since Hunter’s staircase confessional, and in that time, he’d given me space. And answers. Whenever a question popped into my head, I’d call and ask. Yesterday, I’d called twice with questions about his extended family. Today, I wanted to know about his last name.
“Faraday was my mom’s maiden name,” he said. “I changed my name from Carlson to Faraday before I started medical school because I didn’t want to be riding Dad’s coattails at his alma mater.”
“So you were a Faraday but Everett was a Carlson even though he wasn’t your dad’s biological son?”
“That’s right. Nell forced Everett to change his last name when she married Dad. She wanted everyone in the house to share the same last name. Everett hated it until he got to college but then I guess he decided it wasn’t so bad. He’d toss Dad’s name around like candy at a parade. I don’t know if it made a difference for Everett or not, but I didn’t want any special favors from professors or the administration. So I became Hunter Faraday.”
I liked Hunter’s pride and that he had wanted to succeed on his own accomplishments. I doubted his teachers would have played favorites but it was admirable that he’d cared enough to succeed on his own merit.
“Where did you go to college?” I asked.
“Northwestern. Med school there too.”
An image popped into my mind of a younger Hunter walking around campus. I bet the girls had been all over the aspiring doctor with the sexy hair. My smile dropped at the mental image of another woman’s hands tugging on his strands. Hunter and I hadn’t had the past-lover conversation because that was one area where I was one hundred percent not curious.
“Anything else?” he asked.
I was out of questions for now. “Um, no. Bye.”
“Okay,” he sighed. “Bye.”
I hung up my phone and set it on the lobby counter. He sounded sad and lonely. Should I call him back? Maybe invite him for dinner? What had he even been eating lately? Was he cooking for himself or just making peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches?
Though I disliked the thought of him surviving on takeout and PB&Js, I didn’t lift my phone off the counter.
As much as I missed Hunter, I wasn’t ready to take him back.
I was still too angry and disappointed.
Every time I thought about him coming to my maternity ward and not warning me about Nell’s obsession, I saw red. When I pictured Hunter living in Prescott for a year, working at the hospital with my friends without introducing himself, my hands balled into fists. When I thought back to all the nights he’d made love to me and curled me into his arms for sleep, the bitter taste of betrayal filled my mouth.
I couldn’t let Hunter back into my heart until those feelings were gone, which was the reason for my Q&A phone calls instead of talking to him in person.
I loved Hunter. I missed Hunter. But he had hurt me, and now, I was keeping him at arm’s length.
Once again, The Bitterroot Inn had become my savior from the emotional turbulence in my life. I’d spent the last month back in my pre-Hunter routine, busting my butt to finish out tourist season.
Looking over at my reservation book, I flipped through to the weekend’s pages. For the first time in months, there were a couple of empty rooms. Summer was on its way out and fall was moving in. Vacationers were back to work, kids were back in school, and I was enjoying the early September lull in motel activity.
Hunting season would start soon and reservations would peak again, but until then, I had a couple of weeks to enjoy a marginally slower pace. I could meet Milo for our weekly gossip coffee. I could have long phone calls with Gigi in the evenings. I could take lunch breaks with Hunter.
Except, I wasn’t seeing Hunter.
Would my resentment go away faster if we spent more time together? Would I ever find the trust I was missing? Maybe. I sighed and leaned against the counter, propping my chin in my hand. My conviction to keep some distance was waning.
“What do you think, Pickle?”
My growing puppy looked up from the rawhide he was chewing at my feet. His big brown eyes blinked once before he went back to his treat.
“You’re no help.”
Without thinking it through, I picked up my phone.
Hunter answered on the first ring. “Hi.”
“I’m going to the football game tonight. It’s the first one of the season and always pretty fun. If you’re going to the game, you’re welcome to sit with us. I know Coby would really like that.”
“What about you? Would you like that?”
I nodded.
“I can’t see you, Blondie. Are you nodding?”
I nodded again.
“I’m going to assume that’s a yes and see you tonight. Bye.”
When he hung up, I set down my phone and looked back to my dog.
“Happy now?”
He just kept on chewing. Pickle might not care that I had just opened the door for Hunter to come back, but Coby would be ecstatic.
My little boy was just as confused as I was. He didn’t understand why the sleepovers had stopped or why Hunter wasn’t at our dinner table. I hated that he had been affected by all of this, but to Hunter’s credit, he’d done his best to lessen the impact of our break on Coby.
Hunter had been at Coby’s birthday party the week of the court case. With very few of my family members speaking to him, Hunter had spent most of the party alone. But he’d stuck it out the entire time, for Coby. He’d stood stoically in the corner, watching me, and smiling whenever I’d make eye contact. He’d even made it a point to apologize to my parents and brothers. Finally, I had taken pity on him and wordlessly stood by his side as we watched Coby open gifts.
After that, Hunter had arranged for time alone with Coby a couple times a week. They went fishing in the new boat. They had their own dinner dates at the cafe. Hunter had even taken Coby camping in his backyard one weekend.
I’d done my best to explain this change as “grown-up stuff” but Coby wasn’t buying it. He knew things were strained. I just didn’t know how else to describe the situation in a way he’d understand. How do you explain to a four-year-old boy the importance of trust? Or how difficult it was to forgive? Or how much damage his biological father had done to my heart?
Another question popped into my head and I picked up my phone.
Hunter again answered right away. “Are you calling to take back your invitation to the game? Because if you are, I’m hanging up.”
“No.” I smiled but hesitated before asking my question. “I was, um, wondering if you knew why Everett wouldn’t want to be a dad.”
Everett had been so adamant about not fathering a child—so much so that he’d been willing to kill me. There had to be some motivation behind that. Something I was missing. Because who wouldn’t want Coby?
Hunter blew out a long breath. “I don’t know. I wish I had an answer for you, but I don’t. Maybe because his own father had never been in the picture. Maybe because Nell was such a shitty parent herself. Maybe because he was so selfish. I don’t know why he wouldn’t want kids.”
“Hmm.” I wanted another answer. Something more definitive.
“Maisy, he missed out and he’ll never know how much.”
That was the truth. “Okay. I’d better let you go.”
He stopped me before I could hang up. “Maisy?”
“Yeah?”
“I know.”
“You know what?”
“I know how much I’d miss out if I didn’t have Coby. Or you.”
A lump balled at the back of my throat. Rather than try and clear it away to speak, I just hung up the phone.
Then I thought about Everett, about Nell and Hunter’s childhood, hoping another question would pop into my head so I could call him back.
“Mommy! Mommy, there’s Hunter!” Coby jumped up from his seat in the football stadium and started waving.
When Hunter spotted us from his position at the bottom of the stands, he waved back as he lumbered toward the crowded staircase.
“Did you know he was coming?” Gigi asked from her seat behind me.
I turned and nodded. “I invited him to sit with us.”
She grinned. Gigi had been nothing but supportive of my break from Hunter. She knew I needed some time to get over all of his secrets, but after a month, she thought my time was up.
I turned back around to watch Hunter as he started up the stairs. We were about seven rows up from the railing that separated the stands from the track and field. High enough that it gave me time to do a thorough inspection of Hunter as he climbed.
He was wearing jeans and a navy sweater, an outfit so simple and boring it accentuated his sex appeal rather than detracting from it. He’d pushed up the sleeves of his sweater, revealing his tan and muscled forearms. His jeans were faded at the legs, and with every step up the stands, his thick thighs pulled at the denim, molding around his powerful quads. The three women climbing the stairs behind Hunter had their eyes firmly fixed on his gorgeous ass.
Get your own, ladies, that one is mine. Well, maybe.
Not that I could blame those women for feasting on his sexy body. I was feasting too. Something Hunter knew when my eyes traveled up his flat stomach to his smirking face. Busted. With a wink, he grinned wider.
Dropping my eyes to the purse at my feet, I pretended to reach for something until the temperature of my face went back to normal. How was it that I’d gone years without sex, never once missing it, and only a month without Hunter and I was as horny as a teenaged boy who’d just discovered Playboy? I crossed my legs, shifted a little, but the ache in my core was still there.
“Stupid hormones,” I muttered to my purse.
“What was that?”
My head whipped up. Hunter had already reached my side. He must have skipped a couple of steps with those long legs.
“Nothing.” I smiled and scooted down a foot to make room.
“Coby!” Hunter caught Coby as he went flying past my legs. In one swift motion, Hunter hoisted my son onto a hip.
“Hunter! Look at my new shirt.” Coby leaned back and stretched out his new shirt.
“That’s awesome. Did you just get it?”
Coby nodded. “Mommy bought it for me.”
When we’d arrived at the stadium, the high-school cheerleaders had been selling T-shirts. There had been one kids’ shirt in neon green with Prescott Mustangs written on the front and I hadn’t been able to resist. Coby had whipped off the shirt on his back faster than I could get out my credit card to pay for the new one.
“I was thinking about getting some Mustangs gear myself. Do you want to go down later and help me buy a hat?” Hunter asked Coby.
“Yeah! Can I have a hat too?”
“Coby,” I chided. “You shouldn’t ask for presents, buddy.”
“Your mom is right,” Hunter agreed, “but we’ll still get you a hat.”
He set Coby down and sank to the bench, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “Hi. You look beautiful.”
I was just wearing a dark green Mustangs zip-up and jeans, but I had taken the time to do my makeup and hair. “Thanks.”
There were eyes on me from all directions, but I turned to the football field and ignored them. Everyone had showed tonight for the religion that was Prescott High football. The guys were complete team fanatics. The girls tolerated the game because we all loved to socialize and gossip.
The fact that I’d brought Hunter into this mix was more telling than he probably knew. I was letting him back into the fold and this game was a way to give my friends and family permission to let go of his mistakes.
“Hunter,” Dad said, turning around and holding out a hand. “Good to see you.”
Hunter took Dad’s hand. “Thanks, Brock. Glad to be here.”
“Hunter, did you play any football?” Beau asked as they shook hands.
“I played quarterback in high school.”
“No shit?” Jess asked from behind us. “Were you any good?”
“I held my own. I had a couple offers from some smaller division-one schools but I didn’t want to play college ball.”
Silas nodded to Jess. “Good timing.”
All of the guys traded a look before Beau spoke for the group. “We’ve been looking for a QB for our league team. There are only three teams total so it’s not a long season or anything, mostly just throwing the ball around on the weekends before it snows. Are you interested?”
“I’m in.” Hunter nodded before getting mobbed with backslaps and more handshakes, welcoming him to the team.
The loneliness I’d heard in Hunter’s voice earlier was gone. Inviting him had been the right call. And the nerves I’d felt about him joining us tonight had vanished the moment he’d taken his seat next to mine.
“I’m hungry.” Coby squirmed as he sat on Hunter’s knee.
“What do you want?” Hunter asked.
“Can I have a hot dog?”
“Sure, buddy. What do you want?” he asked me.
“I’ll have a hot dog too.”
“Okay. Be right back.”
“Can I come?” Coby asked.
Hunter answered by holding out his hand as he stood, then together, they walked down the stairs. All around me, the chatter resumed. The guys started talking football. Mom was talking to Sabrina about her pregnancy. Dad was talking to Alana about the vet clinic.
And I sat quietly, enjoying the view of Hunter and my son holding hands.
“There’s something truly magical about a man falling in love with your child, isn’t there?” Gigi whispered in my ear.
“Totally.” It made staying away from Hunter nearly impossible when he looked at Coby the way my dad looked at me.
Soon they disappeared from sight, returning ten minutes later overloaded with junk food from the concession stand. The view of the pair coming back up the stairs was just as nice as the view going down had been. Coby’s smile was as wide as it had been all week and the love he had for Hunter was written all over his little face.
Guilt clawed at my insides. I couldn’t let Coby suffer through this limbo any longer. I needed to make a decision. Hunter was either in our lives or out.
When he reached our row, Coby handed me my hot dog. “Here you go, Mommy.”
“Thanks, buddy.”
“We got candy too,” he announced.
Hunter dropped a bag of Skittles in my hand along with a Snickers bar. My two favorites. Considering I’d never told him what my favorite candy was, I was impressed.
“How’d I do?” he asked.
“Good.” Really good.
Hunter settled into his seat and we all started eating as the teams took the field to warm up before kickoff.
“Do you want something to drink?” Hunter asked. “I forgot to get a water.”
I nodded and swallowed my last bite of Snickers. “Dr. Pepper.”
“Okay. Be right back.”
He stood and jogged down the steps. My eyes instantly locked on his butt. The way his ass looked in those jeans should be photographed daily. So firm. So damn firm. It looked more like chiseled stone than rounded muscle. Marveling at how well the pockets of his jeans framed his luscious ass, I jerked in surprise when a hand appeared in my line of sight.
There was a hand on Hunter’s ass. A hand that definitely wasn’t mine.
“What the eff?” Gigi asked.
“Coby, stay here.” I was out of my seat and down the stairs before anyone could stop me, moving straight toward Hunter, who stood by the railing trying to inch away from the woman who had just groped him.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the woman said, smiling and laughing like the fool she was. “I just tripped.” She held out a hand. “I’m Renee. I don’t believe we’ve met.”
I slid right into Hunter’s side, knocking her hand away with my elbow. Then I held mine out in return. “Hi. I’m Maisy. Renee, was it?”
Her smile drooped as she faltered, but she recovered. “Yes. Renee. Nice to meet you.”
She took my hand and I squeezed hers just a bit too hard. “Are you new in town?”
“I, uh, just moved here last month,” she stammered, trying to get out of my vise grip.
“Welcome to Prescott,” I said with false cheer. “These football games are a great way to meet people.” I looked to Hunter and slid my hand in the back pocket of his jeans. “We’d better get going if we’re going to get our drinks before the game.”
“Sure, baby.” Hunter’s chest started shaking with silent laughter as he nodded good-bye to Renee. “Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, um, you too.” With beet-red cheeks, she disappeared back to her seat.
“Let’s go.” I marched toward the exit.
Hunter’s arm came around my shoulders and he led me down the stairs and toward the concession stand. “Jealous much, Blondie?”
A flare of annoyance streaked through my body. Of course I’d been jealous. What did he expect? Why wasn’t he more annoyed at that lady’s behavior?
“She was rude and practically mauling you,” I snapped and stepped away from his side. “But if that doesn’t bother you, then fine. Maybe women throwing themselves at you isn’t a big deal. I mean, you’re single or whatever, so I guess you can do whoever—”
“What was that?” His hand grabbed my elbow and spun me in front of him, stopping my rambling rant. “Say that again. Single? You think I’m single?”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
His jaw set in an angry lock. “Do you think you’re single?”
“I, um . . . no.”
“Then why and the fuck would you think I’m single?”
I threw my hand toward the stands. “You didn’t get too mad about Renee’s hand on your ass and we’re not together—”
“Stop talking. Right now.” He grasped my hand to drag me behind him as he turned in the other direction and stormed away from the concessions.
My legs couldn’t keep up with his long strides so I had to jog to keep up. “Hunter—”
“Stop talking, Maisy.”
I shut up for a second, but as he got closer to the stands and the exit gate, I couldn’t stay quiet. “Where are we going? We can’t leave. What about Coby?”
He didn’t answer. He just kept pulling me along until we reached the gate, but instead of going through and out to the gravel parking lot, he followed the small section of chain-link fence toward the dark area underneath the stands. I thought he would stop there, in the shadow of the tall bleachers, but he kept going, stepping over a metal bar and walking underneath the towering metal seats.
“Hunter,” I hissed and held myself back. “We can’t be under here.”
He just tugged my hand harder so I’d follow.
Above us, people were laughing and talking. A couple of spilled drink cups littered the ground. The benches above squeaked as people shifted to stand for the national anthem.
“Hunter, I think—”
He shushed me and kept pulling, all the way to the far back corner, which was nearly pitch black. On this side, the stands were held up by a cinder-block wall, not the open metal posts like where we had entered. When we reached the cement, Hunter pulled me in front of him, positioning my back against the cold blocks.
I opened my mouth but he spoke first.
“You are not single. Neither am I.” Then his mouth slammed down on mine, ending any chance of a discussion.
While the speakers blared and the stadium above us filled with The Star-Spangled Banner, Hunter filled my mouth. He slanted his head and his tongue dove in deep, exploring with hunger. Exploring like it had been years, not just a month since his lips had been on mine.
I stood stunned for a second, not having expected a kiss, but the shock didn’t last long. My desire for Hunter’s mouth burned it away.
My hands ran up his hard chest and up his neck, pulling him closer and deeper. He bent so I could get my arms wrapped around the back of his shoulders and my chest pressed flush to his.
I’d missed kissing this man. His taste. His smell. The way he’d groan into my mouth. I’d missed it all.
As our tongues twisted and dueled, his hands wrapped around my waist, sliding down to my ass to squeeze hard through my jeans. I moaned into his mouth, wanting more as he pulled me into his erection.
I slanted my head, wanting a new angle to suck on his bottom lip, but he broke away, leaving me panting as I wiped my lips dry.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
I immediately obeyed, bracing my hands on the cold cement at my face.
Hunter’s hands came to my jeans and popped the top button, then hastily unzipped the seam. With one jerk, he yanked down my pants and panties, letting the cool air bite into my bare skin.
His warm breath tickled my earlobe when he bent down to whisper, “I’m going to fuck you right here so that you remember that neither of us is single. Got it?”
My pussy clenched. God, I missed his dirty words too.
“Got it?” he repeated, his hoarse voice vibrating against my neck.
I was so turned on, all I could do was nod.
It was noisy above us but I could still hear the sound of him unzipping his fly. His hands came to my hips, tipping them up so he could position that thick cock right at my entrance before he thrust inside on one hard stroke.
A loud moan escaped my lips as he filled me completely.
His arms left my hips to band around my chest. “Fuck, Maisy. You feel so good.”
I arched higher.
“Harder,” I pleaded. He was holding back, not giving me everything, and I wanted it all. I wanted him to come undone when I did and lose himself in my body.
“I’m not going to last long, baby.”
I shook my head. “Me neither.” Just the fact that Hunter was fucking me while hundreds of people were sitting above us had me trembling already. As soon as he unleashed, I’d go right over the edge.
He kissed my neck gently and stood back. His big hands came back to my hips and hoisted me up so my toes were barely skimming the ground as he hammered me in long, hard jolts. Perfect fucking.
The angle was so right, my head fell forward. “Oh, fuck,” I breathed.
“You are all mine.” Hunter’s voice echoed off the cement wall at my face. “Got it?”
I nodded and turned my head so I could moan into my arm.
“Say it, Maisy.”
“I’m all yours,” I breathed.
“Fuck yes, you are. And who owns this cock?” He rammed it in hard and stayed rooted. “Who?”
I gasped. “I do.”
“That’s right.” He slid back out and started pounding again.
Above us the stands erupted in cheers as the game kicked off. My orgasm hit at that exact moment so I could cry out as I came. Pulse after pulse, my hands fisted on the cement wall, my arms shaking as I exploded long and hard. With my pussy squeezing him tight, Hunter fucked me even harder.
“Maisy,” he groaned as he came, his rough voice sending a tingle down my rubber arms. I sagged into the wall when he collapsed into my back. His arms left my hips and came back to my chest to hold me while we both recovered.
“Oh my god,” I muttered. “I can’t believe we just did that.”
Hunter chuckled as he slid out. “You didn’t like it?”
“You know I liked it.” I straightened, yanking up my panties and jeans while praying that no one was behind us with a video camera. With my clothes back in place, I turned and peered behind Hunter to see we were alone. Phew.
“Come here.” Hunter’s arms wrapped around me and he pulled me into his chest.
I fell into him, still weak from my orgasm and using his strong body to prop me up.
“We need to get back.” I took a long inhale of the cologne on his sweater.
“One more second.”
“What about Coby?” I asked but didn’t make a move to let go.
“He’s fine. There are about twenty people up there watching him.”
“My parents. Oh my god, my parents.” My cheeks flushed with mortification, and this time, I did step back. “They are going to know we just had sex. And my brothers are up there. And all my friends. They’re going to take one look at my face and—”
“Maisy.” Hunter interrupted me and pulled me back into his arms. “Stop talking.”
I huffed out a loud breath and sank into his chest. “I’m still hurt.” He needed to know that, despite the hot football-stadium sex, I was still hesitant to jump right back into an us.
He kissed my hair. “I know.”
“How do we move past it all?”
“One day at a time,” he whispered. “And when you’re ready to start again, I’ll be right here.”