Chapter Twenty-Three
Hunter made his way up the stairs of the B&B, glad it would be the last time he had to spend the night with the chintz and ruffles. He couldn’t wait to pack up and move into the furnished rental house the next morning.
Bethany had become increasingly clingy, which was getting to be a real pain in the ass. Just that morning she had been waiting for him in the lobby downstairs. Again. He remembered the shocked look on her face when he told her he was moving. She wasn’t happy, which just made him more eager to get out of the place.
He unlocked the door to his room and stepped inside, tossing his keys on the table near the entrance. The curtains were drawn but he walked to the window, peeking out at the waterfront. Not for the first time that day, his mind strayed to a pair of smoky gray eyes and a smile so warm and genuine, it could melt ice in Alaska. Just thinking about Emma made his blood stir and his hands tingle with the desire to touch her. He was beginning to think he couldn’t stay away from her anymore, even if he wanted to.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” a sultry voice said behind him.
Hunter spun around, startled. Bethany Andrews was draped across his bed in what appeared to be some sort of gauzy black negligee. She looked hard-edged and sexy, her impressive breasts straining under the flimsy fabric. Everything was where it was supposed to be: the curves, the artfully arranged hair, the bedroom eyes and red lipstick. The actress had set the stage, but he didn’t care to see the show.
“What are you doing in here?” he demanded.
Bethany smiled like a cat licking cream. “I know you’re moving tomorrow so I thought I’d give you a proper good-bye.” She parted the sash on her robe and it fell over her shoulders, revealing a perfect tan and perfect curves. “Maybe I can give you some incentive to stay in touch.”
Hunter glanced at the wall, annoyed. The woman knew she looked good and had no problems flaunting it, but he felt nothing for her. At another point in his life, he might have taken her up on the offer, but not anymore. Things were different now. Emma represented everything honest and true. It brought into stark relief the desperation of someone like Bethany. If he felt anything at all for her, it was pity. “Bethany, you need to leave. I’m in no mood for this.”
She laughed, low and throaty. Apparently, she didn’t believe him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her stretch and sit up slowly. She leaned back on her hands. “I bet I could get you in the mood.”
He didn’t want to hurt her, but he had to shut her down, fast. “You need to go. I’m flattered, but I’m not interested.”
She slid off the bed and started walking toward him.
“Stop,” he said more harshly than he meant to. “I don’t want you. Do you understand what I’m saying? I’m seeing someone else.”
Bethany’s smile slid off her face and she narrowed her eyes. “Who?”
“That’s not your concern.” Hunter grabbed a bathrobe off the hook on the door and held it out.
“Who is it?” she persisted. “Is it Emma Holloway?”
He said nothing.
“It is, isn’t it?” Bethany demanded.
“Put the robe on, Bethany, and go.” Frustration mounting by the second, he clenched his jaw and waited for her to cover herself. He’d been very clear that he wasn’t interested in her, even back before he had started getting involved with Emma.
Bethany yanked the robe from his hands, shoving her arms through the oversize sleeves. “You know the Holloways are all crazy, don’t you? Her mom was the town slut. Slept with anyone who looked at her twice.”
Hunter refrained from pointing out that Bethany wasn’t exactly Mother Teresa, standing half-naked, uninvited, in his room. He waited until she was fully covered before turning to face her. “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand. Emma and I are none of your business.”
Bethany gave a harsh laugh. The throaty purr was gone from her voice and now she just sounded catty. “So it is Emma.”
Hunter said nothing.
She tossed her hair and shrugged. “Well, you might want to ask yourself what happens to all the men who get together with Holloways. Think about that. None of them are still around, you know. It always ends badly. Someone either gets hurt”—she cinched the bathrobe sash around her waist—“or worse.”
Enough. Hunter pointed to the door. “Get. Out.”
She gave him a mean little smile and jerked it open. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.” Then she stormed down the hall and was gone.
Hunter shut the door and locked it, drawing the deadbolt home. He shook his head and let out a silent curse. What the hell had that woman been thinking? Of all the men she could try to entice, he was her least likely victory.
He grabbed a beer from the tiny fridge in the corner of the room, flopping back on the chair near the window. There was a time not long ago where he’d have gone for it. And why not? A woman like Bethany knew exactly what she was doing. She was hardwired to play the game. He cracked open the beer and leaned his head back against the wall. He had been hardwired to play once, too, but not anymore.
All thoughts strayed to Emma. Soft gray eyes filled with mischief, laughter that made him want to kiss her until that same laughter flowed inside him, filling up the empty places. He took a sip of beer and closed his eyes. What was happening to him? He couldn’t get her out of his head and it didn’t even bother him anymore. When he wasn’t with her, he thought about her. When he was with her, he felt like everything else just faded in the background and he was exactly where he was supposed to be. Emma was feisty and generous and kind and caring. She was giving and honest and . . . impossible.
Hunter shook his head. It was all just so impossible. Magic? The whole idea was illogical and ridiculous, but he just didn’t give a damn anymore. He was going to accept her for what she was—a delicious, glorious, fascinating mystery. The barest hint of a smile ghosted across his face as he pictured her mixing up cupcakes in her kitchen. She was so open with her feelings. He hadn’t expected to share so much of his past with her, but it had all tumbled out as easy as breathing. Because of her, his past troubles in Seattle were just a faded memory. She was the closest thing he had ever felt to . . . what?
Hunter stood and began pacing the room. Best not to think too hard on it. He cared deeply for her and he had grown to trust her; that’s all that mattered. And now that Sam had finally given him the news he’d been waiting for, it was time to let Emma know.
A thrill of anticipation shot through him. All she did was help other people. Her very calling in life was to inspire happiness in others. In the short few weeks that he had known her, she had made a positive impact on him in ways he hadn’t believed possible. Now he had a chance to help her attain everything she needed, and he couldn’t wait to give her a little bit of happiness back.