chapter 30
HUNTER
“IS EVERYTHING OKAY?” RILEY asks when we’re out at dinner the next night.
“Yeah, fine,” I tell her, reaching out and taking her hand. “But there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Is everything okay?” she asks, squeezing my fingers. Our food arrives, giving me a moment to gather my thoughts. I shouldn’t be in my head right now; I’ll deal with the Jeremy thing when the time comes. I don’t want Riley to worry about it, but I know if I don’t tell her she’s going to be pissed. I want us to work, and that means being honest.
“So, Jeremy is trying to sue me for malpractice,” I tell her. She stops tracing the tattoos on my inner forearm with her index finger.
“What?” she asks, glancing up at me through her lashes. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why?”
Fuck, she is so beautiful, even when she’s angry.
Especially when she’s angry.
“Unfortunately not,” I tell her, wincing. “He’s saying I didn’t keep confidentiality and because of that he lost his divorce case. He’s not going to win, but I wanted to let you know what was going on.”
“This is my fault. I should’ve just come to you from the beginning. My stupid pride—”
“Stop right there. This is not your fault, you hear me?” I say with emphasis in my voice. She stays silent for a bit, wiping a tear from her eye.
“I’m so sorry you have to deal with this, Hunter,” she says, puffing out a breath. “Why does he have to be such an asshole? Just when I thought I’d never have to hear his name again.”
“It’s fine. I don’t want you to stress out about it; Jaxon is handling it,” I say, as she lets go of my hand and studies the food in front of her. “Regretting being spontaneous with your order?”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “And trying something new isn’t being spontaneous, Hunter. It’s what normal people do.”
“Normal is overrated.” I grin, pulling my plate toward me. “You let me know how your weird ball things taste.”
“We have bigger issues than weird balls,” she grumbles, looking me in the eye. “Are you sure Jaxon can handle this?”
“Jaxon lives for this shit. Let’s not let this ruin our night, okay? It will all be handled.”
She sighs and puts one of the balls on her fork and takes a big bite. “Mmmmm, I love big balls.”
I almost choke on a fry. “How old are you again?”
“Old enough to get your attention.” She winks, finishing the macaroni-and-cheese fried balls she ordered.
“You’re a bit cute,” I say, eating another fry. “You can show me how much you love big balls after dinner.”
She laughs, chewing slowly and watching me. “Do you want a bite? They’re actually pretty damn good.”
I’m still considering when her arm stretches over the table, offering me a bite. I open my mouth and take a small bite, even though a pet peeve of mine is when someone tries to feed me like this. For her though, I pretend it’s fine. It’s actually pretty good, not that I want to admit that after all the shit I gave her.
“What do you think?” she probes.
“Not bad,” I reply, shrugging. “You going to add them to your menu?”
“I think it’s frowned upon to go around stealing people’s food ideas.”
“But not illegal.” I smirk. “And it’s not a specialty. They have those at heaps of different places.”
“Still,” she replies, shrugging. “Besides, you seem happy with the menu as it is.”
“It’s a winner for me.”
“Glad it has the pickiest eater in the world’s approval.”
“Hey,” I say, freezing. “You haven’t met a picky eater until you’ve hung out with my sister. She doesn’t drink milk, or eat certain meats like pork, lamb, or duck, but . . . she will eat bacon.”
“That makes no sense,” Riley comments, shaking her head. “Why bacon but no other pork? It’s exactly the same animal.”
“I have no idea,” I say. “My mom used to cook her pork as a kid and tell her it was chicken, just so she’d eat it.”
“How is your sister?” she asks me, an odd look on her face. “I haven’t seen her since your birthday night.”
“She’s good,” I tell her. “We had lunch the other day. She asked about you, said she wanted to get to know you a little more.”
“Maybe we can all have lunch or dinner one day next week,” Riley suggests.
“Sounds good,” I tell her.
We finish up our meals, and I pay, which she complains about as usual, and then we head back to her place. Bear jumps on me as we enter, and I pat his head while Riley locks the door. Although I haven’t said anything out loud, and Bear is here, I don’t like the thought of her alone here, even though I know she’s used to it, and that she’s more than capable of taking care of herself. Maybe Riley’s right—sometimes I need to tame the caveman inside of me.
“Did you miss me, Bear?” Riley coos to her dog, patting him. “Are you hungry? You need to have your dinner.”
I follow the two of them into the kitchen and watch while she feeds him some raw chicken and dry biscuits. She turns to me and smiles. “It’s so good having him back.”
“I can see that,” I say, closing the space between us. “You look happy.”
“You make me happy,” she says, ducking her head. “And having Bear back is the icing on the cake. Got my best friend back and a sexy, tatted, bearded man by my side.”
I pull her closer. “Is that all I am to you? A pretty face? Why are you always objectifying me, Riley?” I tease, kissing the spot between her neck and her collarbone. “Will you still want me if I shave off my beard?”
I laugh at the horrified expression on her face before she masks it. “Of course I will. But your beard is so . . . Hunter.”
My lip twitches at her response. “Very eloquent.”
“I like your beard; is that a crime?” she asks, poking her tongue out at me. “I like everything about you. I like that you have tattoos hidden under your fancy suits. I like your mind, how smart you are, and also how seriously funny you are. I like when you’re playful. I like that you always know what to say. I even like that you make inappropriate jokes and rarely take anything seriously.”
Everything in me softens at her words, besides my cock, which does the opposite. “I like everything about you too, Riley,” I say, kissing her, showing her without words how much her little rant means to me. She sees me. The real me, not the one I usually show to the world. I feel like I can be myself in front of her, and I hope she feels the same way about me. Things start to get a little heated, and I lift her up on the countertop, standing between her legs, kissing her and cupping her face with my hands. She tastes like the strawberry cheesecake she had for dessert, and I can’t get enough. When I pull back and lift her in my arms, intending to carry her into her bedroom, I notice Bear staring at me.
“What’s wrong?” Riley asks, voice hot and flustered.
“I think I’m getting some dog judgment,” I whisper. “Look, he’s staring at me with narrowed eyes.”
She looks around me to see what her dog is up to. “He’s just looking at you, there’s no dog judgment. Is that even a thing?”
“Yes!” I say, sure on this topic. “Our dog at my parents’ house used to do it too. He’d give me all this dog judgment whenever I was drinking when my parents weren’t home. Now Bear is giving it to me because we’re about to fuck and he’s being weird about it.”
“I think it’s you being weird about it, Hunter,” she deadpans. “Just take me to bed, and close the door.”
“Okay,” I grumble, carrying her to her bedroom, turning on the light and closing the door. “Now, where were we?”