Chapter 4

Hunter woke up before the sunrise the next morning, which wasn’t unusual for him, even if it was annoying. It didn’t matter. He’d just drive down to the lake and take a single scull out for a chilly morning row. He could use the workout.

He put on his sweats and a hoodie as well as a knit cap and called the morning desk clerk to request breakfast at the lodge later. He might as well check in with them after he was done to see whether he needed to calm any fussy guests or locals, as they hadn’t completely shut down the resort for the wedding. Or he could check on any repairs or do them himself or . . . give a lengthy resort tour to a certain photographer.

He grunted and grabbed his shoes, tying them frantically. He really needed this workout—anything to clear his head.

The air was even colder than he had expected, and he shivered as he got into his truck. It would have to be a really good row to warm him up, and the sun wouldn’t come over the mountains for a while, even as the morning lightened. But once it did, the day would be warm, just as it had been lately. He loved these mornings and had spent a fair number of predawn hours on the lake with his father and grandfather. Lately he went by himself.

There was nothing like it.

The pavement was wet with dew, and the winding curves had less traction than normal. It wasn’t a particularly easy drive normally, but on mornings like this . . . He predicted he’d have at least two calls about tourists having trouble with the sharp curves or incline. Once things dried out later, it would be fine. But right now—

Something bright and white appeared around the curve, and he gasped and slammed on the brakes, the wheels screaming against the wet pavement. He stared out through the windshield, adrenaline racing through him.

Mallory was on the edge of the road, in a white coat and black leggings, worn-out tennis shoes, and fleece earmuffs, with two cameras around her neck, a satchel across her body, and a thermos in her hand. She stared at him with wide eyes. She was a good twenty-five yards from him, if not more. But the way the truck lights had caught her . . .

He could have killed her.

He rubbed his hands over his face and got out of the truck, his fear turning into rage the moment his feet hit the pavement.

“Nice braking,” she said with a smile as he approached, oblivious to his fury. “New tires?”

“What were you thinking?” he barked, shoving his hood back and coming to stand directly in front of her. “What, exactly, possessed you to wander around in the woods in the dark? I could have killed you!”

Her brows snapped together. “Yeah, your tank there would have made roadkill out of me,” she drawled sarcastically. “Speed limits mean anything to you?”

“I was going the speed limit,” he retorted. “The roads are terrible in wet weather, no matter how fast you go, but I’m a lot smarter than that. And it’s a Dodge Ram, not a tank, and you being roadkill is not funny.”

“Who’s laughing?” she asked, tilting her head.

He exhaled heavily, his breath coming out like fog and his irritation melting away under her influence. “Look,” he said slowly, deciding to try for calm, “it’s not safe for you to be wandering around in the dark, especially with drivers who don’t know these roads. Luckily, I do, but this isn’t a good idea.”

Mallory sighed and adjusted her weight. “I’m wearing a white jacket with reflector strips, and I’m sticking to main trails. What is the problem?”

Hunter groaned and put a hand to his suddenly aching head. She didn’t get it, and he didn’t have the energy to educate her. Plus, she was looking especially cute right now. He should have shaved. He shook his head with a sigh. “What are you doing up here this early anyway?”

She held up her camera with a shrug. “Photographer. I wanted to catch the sunrise, and views are limited at the Hen House.”

He coughed a surprise burst of laughter at that, though the term was perfect. She grinned at hearing the sound.

That was enough of that.

“You’re not dressed warmly enough,” he pointed out in what was supposed to be a scolding tone.

“Thank you,” she said, giving him a sardonic look. “I figured that out about thirty minutes ago. Tomorrow I’ll be better.”

“You’re doing this more?” he asked, torn between horrified and impressed.

She nodded and pushed her ponytail behind her. “Probably every morning. Every sunrise is different, and I can find dozens of places to get shots.”

He slowly shook his head. “If you manage not to die, it will be a miracle,” he muttered.

She only shrugged. “Well, then I’ll be a martyr for my art, and my pictures will be published to wide acclaim, so that works too.”

He stared at her for a second, hands on his hips. She was the most unusual woman he had ever met. And it was obvious she wasn’t going to listen to him, which meant there was only one thing to do. He exhaled loudly and started back for the truck. “Come on,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll drive you.”

She barked a short laugh. “You don’t know where I’m going.”

He turned and gave her a look. “Neither do you.”

That brought a half smile to her face. “Point taken. But you don’t know what I’m looking for.”

He shrugged and opened the passenger door. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll get you there. I’ve been coming here since I was a kid. I know all the best places.”

She frowned at him and his truck, looking grumpy and uncertain.

“It’ll be warmer and safer, not to mention faster, if you come with me,” he said patiently.

She looked away. “I really like hiking to my sites.”

He sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “So join National Geographic and come out again when you can see. For my sanity, and to save your fingers and toes, get in the truck.”

She still hesitated, chewing her lip, which drove him crazy.

“You’re running out of time, and it’s getting lighter by the minute. Your choice.”

She huffed and came over to the truck, handing him her thermos and bag. She avoided his eyes as she grabbed the handle, stepped on the running board, and climbed in, then quickly took her things back.

He tried not to smile as he closed the door for her. He had no idea why he was so pleased right now, but he was willing to roll with it. He got in on his side, buckled up, and looked at her expectantly.

She wasn’t looking at him and therefore couldn’t see his expression. She looked like a pouty child who’d been scolded, and that intrigued him. He didn’t want to be her boss or disciplinarian. He wanted to figure out what made her tick and why she made him tick. And keep her from breaking her neck.

“Where to?” he asked politely.

She shrugged. “You’re the expert. Take me somewhere I can get a good shot. Nice view, morning light. Just go with it.”

Still trying not to smile, he nodded and started driving. He looked at her, eyes flicking between her face and the road. He couldn’t help himself. She was looking out the window the entire time, eyes everywhere, trying to catch everything, even though it was still dark. Her hands clutched her thermos, but she never took a sip of it. Was it a hand warmer or a beverage?

He cleared his throat. “You don’t bring warm enough clothes, but you remember your coffee?”

“Cocoa.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t drink coffee,” she said louder, still looking out the window, “and tea doesn’t cut it in the mornings. Cocoa is good all the time.”

He smiled, but tried to hide it. “Duly noted. So are you fascinated by nature, or are you mad at me?”

She glanced over. “I don’t know you well enough to be mad at you, and this place is gorgeous.”

He shrugged, ignoring the twinge of relief. “True. This is my favorite place on earth.”

She looked back out the window, tilting her head back to try to see the lightening sky between the trees. “I can see why. It’s amazing.”

Hunter chuckled at her enthusiasm. “City girl?”

“Sort of. I spent my teenage years on a farm, and now I’m in Denver—the city part, not the nature part. For now, anyway. I used to take vacations with my parents to Eagle Lake in Michigan when I was a kid, but it’s been years and years.”

He stiffened in his seat, and his hold on the steering wheel tightened. “Eagle Lake?” he repeated faintly.

She nodded. “It’s up near—”

“PawPaw, I know.”

She looked at him in surprise, and he met her eyes, just as stunned. His family had a house on another lake near there, closer to Decatur, but he’d become familiar enough with all the smaller lakes and towns. They’d been going there for years, almost as often as they came here. His cousin lived close enough to look after that place, and he had this one. Had they ever been at that lake at the same time? It wasn’t as formally set up as this resort, where guests mingled and events were held; it was a much quieter, simpler setting, but still one of his fondest childhood memories.

He broke eye contact and focused on the road, exhaling silently. They were almost to the spot he had in mind, and he needed to get out of the truck. They didn’t talk again until they reached the summit, and he pointed her in the direction of the best spot. She nodded, suddenly focused, got out of the truck, and started for it.

“Watch your footing,” he blurted out, leaving the truck himself, his eyes tracking her footsteps and the slick spots on the ground.

She looked over her shoulder at him with a crooked smile that sent his pulse skittering. “I remember. Thanks.” She purposefully tiptoed around a puddle, then stepped out on the stone ledge, camera raised.

Hunter watched her for a while, bewildered by the number of clicks he heard. He came closer, trying to see whatever magic Mallory saw. It was a gorgeous view, but the sun had yet to come over the mountains, so the light wasn’t very good. But that didn’t matter to Mallory, it seemed. She kept saying things to herself, directions and corrections and hushed praises of the view and the mountains.

He was smiling again.

She leaned forward, more excited as the light increased.

“Whoa, whoa,” he murmured, coming forward and grabbing the back of her jacket. “No cliff diving. You’re not close enough to the lake.”

“So hold tight,” she replied without concern, leaning even farther.

He chuckled and grabbed hold with both hands.

“This is incredible,” she said, speaking to him this time. “I haven’t seen nature like this since . . . maybe never!”

“It is one of a kind, isn’t it?” he replied, looking around and finally feeling that wonder and awe she seemed to feel. “There’s no place like it. And I’ve been a lot of places.”

She leaned back and lowered her camera, but he still held on to her jacket. She turned to look at him. “What are you doing with this crowd, Hunter?”

He reared back, smiling at how perfectly she said his name. “What do you mean?”

She gave him a curious smile. “You’re floating around with the likes of Jenna and Tom and Sophie—”

“Don’t include her,” he interrupted, slashing a hand through the air.

She stifled a laugh, then continued, “But you’re so . . . normal. What gives?”

He’d never been called normal a day in his life. He’d always thought normal a boring thing to be. It had never occurred to him that it could be a compliment. He shrugged. “What can I say? I know people.”

Mallory grinned. “I know people. And they don’t give me speeches like you got last night.”

He rubbed at his forehead; his beanie suddenly itched. “Tom’s a good guy. Doesn’t see the bad in anyone.”

“Is there bad in you?”

He looked back at her and could see she was surprised by her own words. He held her eyes as steadily as he could, his chest suddenly warm and tight.

“Could be,” he finally said. “Depending on who’s looking and how deep.”

She swallowed and looked down at her camera again, fiddling with something. “Philosopher too, Hunter? Impressive repertoire.”

“I gots lots of skills, Mallory,” he said slowly, exaggerating the playful tone and grinning, which was strange. He was not normally playful, but it was natural with her. Maybe he needed to watch his footing too.

She gave him a bemused look. “Now that is not a skill. Don’t ever do that again. And it’s Mal,” she added with a smile.

Screw footing.

He softened his smile. “Mal, then.” He nodded at her camera. “Are you getting the shots you need?”

She nodded rapidly. “Tons. This is awesome. I can’t wait for the sun to come up.”

He looked around for a second, gauging where they were. There wasn’t going to be much more to offer here when the sun did come up. It wouldn’t have the same magic she was looking for, but something else might.

“I think you’ll be disappointed when it does,” he said, thinking fast. “But I have an idea.”

She lowered her camera. “Do I want to know?”

He smirked. “What would you say to a sunrise view from the shore? You could get tons of shots where the rowers dock and launch, and no one is out this morning.”

She glanced over to where he suggested, then whirled back, dislodging his hold on the jacket in her excitement. “Yes.”

He grinned and waved her back to the truck. “Let’s go! We gotta hurry.”

Moments later, they were racing down the winding roads again, this time with far less caution. Mal clutched the handle for dear life, her other hand braced on the dash. “We’re not gonna make it,” she muttered, her eyes wide open. “We’re not gonna make it.”

“We will make it,” he insisted, grinning as the tires squealed. “I’ll get you there before the sun comes over the ridge.”

“That’s not what I mean,” she hissed between her clenched teeth. “I’m going to die in your freaking Dodge Ram before we get anywhere. In a ravine.”

He laughed. “You will not. I’ll get you there in one piece—no ravines. Trust me.”

“Trust you? I’ve known you for like three seconds. How’s that supposed to work?” Her voice was getting higher, and he wished he could watch her to see the play of emotions on her face.

He risked a glance. “Want me to hold your hand?”

“No!” she shrieked, laughing. “Two hands on the wheel, moron! Shut up and drive!”

He laughed out loud and took a few more curves in silence. She wasn’t any calmer, so he tried for distraction. “So you like barbecue.”

She jerked and looked at him with horror. “What?”

“Last night. That was some good stuff. You guys get that often?” He flicked his eyes to her, then back to the road.

“You heard,” she murmured, finally sitting back in her seat.

He shrugged. “Not really. I got the impression, at least. Then I saw your plate, and I put two and two together.”

“I didn’t think anyone noticed,” she murmured, looking away. “I only meant to shut the girls up, not to make a demonstration for the entire group.”

“Uh, I think everyone noticed,” Hunter assured her with a laugh. “It wasn’t very discreet.”

Mal rolled her eyes and sank back in her seat. “Oh good. I love being the center of attention.”

“It was the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

She looked at him, doubtful.

He nodded. “I mean it, Mal. That was perfect.” Then he flicked a half grin. “The fact that you cleaned your plate just made it better.”

Mal grinned back, to his eternal delight. “There’s nothing else to do when it’s Hal Barney’s. How did you know I cleaned it? Were you watching?”

He looked back at the road. “I had money on you.”

She burst out laughing. “How much?”

“Hundred bucks.”

She hummed and sat back again. “Should have bet more. I snuck two helpings of cobbler from the kitchen after.”

He had no response for that except to laugh again, and then they were at the shore, and she was all business again. She raced from the truck, gauged the sky, the mountains, and the approaching sun, and started snapping pictures. She bounced on her feet.

“Come here!” she called, waving him over. She took off her shoes and socks, yanked off her earmuffs, and splashed out into the water, not even bothering to roll up her leggings.

“What?” He laughed, heading toward her.

She giggled and hissed at the cold water, then took the second camera from around her neck. “Start snapping shots!” she said, tossing the camera at him.

He caught it easily. “Of what?”

“Anything!” she replied with another laugh, returning to the task at hand.

“I am not going out there,” he informed her as he started taking pictures. “It’s freezing.”

He heard her laughter, and then the sun peeked over the ridge. It seemed that a beam had settled itself specifically on her. She smiled and took pictures of the water, the sky, the mountains, anything and everything. The entire world seemed to delight her. She bent so close to the water he thought she was going to submerge herself, then she turned and tilted her camera up at a peak, at the dock, one particular tree that caught the sunlight . . .

Transfixed, Hunter found it hard to swallow, then he was taking pictures of her, just a few, because the moment could not go unnoticed. Then he took pictures randomly, not caring whether he wasted her entire memory card on blurry nothings. He didn’t even mind that suddenly he was getting his feet wet, or that he wasn’t going to get a workout in this morning or probably any other morning this week.

As far as he was concerned, his mornings were spoken for.

Mal was out of breath by the time she finished her shoot. She knew she’d been childish and giddy about the sunrise, and Hunter probably thought she was crazy, but he was being very nice about it.

Her initial impressions of him had been off, she could now admit. Yes, he was still the same impossibly gorgeous man from before. But like this, in a hoodie and sweats, he was also approachable. He wasn’t as quiet as she’d pegged him, which was a fun surprise, and he was witty, which she never expected from attractive people. Not fair, she knew, but snap judgments rarely are.

She was glad now that she’d gotten in his truck and gone with him despite her earlier reservations. It had been a more productive morning than she’d expected. He didn’t make any smart comments about her walking barefoot in the sand now, her shoes in hand, the second camera once more around her neck with the first. He was chatting about the rowing teams that came to the resort on training trips and how his own team at UNC, which Tom had also been on, had done so. She wasn’t really listening, but he had the kind of voice that was nice to hear no matter what he was saying.

“So how is it up at the house?” he asked, changing the subject abruptly.

She looked at him. “What, the Hen House?”

He grinned, and she was still proud of herself for coming up with the name.

“It’s . . . interesting,” she said.

“Very PC answer,” he replied with a nod. “Care to expound?”

She considered, wondering what she could say to him. “I’m not like these girls,” she admitted. “I don’t care about the calories in dinner or if my makeup is perfect or if my clothing looks like it’s expensive even if it’s not. I couldn’t care less about today being Designer Day. I’m actually hoping to avoid it. Jenna and Caroline are fine; they’re closer to my level, but not much. I have nothing in common with these people.”

“These people?” he prodded. “Your family and their friends?”

Mal snorted softly. “Friends. Show me real friends of anyone in this group, and I’ll show you Santa’s workshop.”

“That sounds bitter.”

“When you’re called ‘mediocre’ and ‘too plump for your limited height’ and ‘only good enough for department stores’ by people who’ve never actually spoken to you before, you tend to feel a little bitter.” She scowled at the memories from the night before, shaking her head.

Hunter nearly stopped. “They said what?”

Mal turned to smile as blandly as she could. “Don’t get excited. Let’s just say I’ve gotten used to being treated like this by the upper class.”

He didn’t seem to like that any better, but that was all he was going to get from her. There was no way she was going to tell him about the last time she was with her cousins and what Jenna’s preteen friends had said to her then. That stuff had nearly sent her into therapy, and it had taken many pep talks and pints of ice cream to get over it enough to be here.

Hunter folded his hands behind his back as he walked beside her, which was a very proper pose for a man wearing sweats. “So that’s why you wanted to stay with your assistants.”

“That’s why I expected to,” she corrected. “As much as Jenna says I’m her favorite, she really doesn’t know me. Not anymore. I thought I would be here more as the photographer and less as the cousin. But I guess I’m both.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he asked.

She stopped for a moment, considering. “I’m honestly not sure.”

At a squealing sound, she looked toward the houses and saw that they had arrived at the Hen House. Some of the girls were out on the second-floor terrace. Sophie was looking way too put together for this time of morning, leaning on the railing in a silk robe, staring directly at the two of them. Her expression was disapproving.

Mal sighed and turned to Hunter. “Well, this is my stop, I guess.”

He smiled. “So it is.”

“Thanks for your help today. It really made a difference.”

He shrugged. “Anytime. Like I said, I love this place.”

She returned his smile. “I can see that. And I can see why.”

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes unreadable. Then he said, “Let me know when you need a dose of normal again. I’ll help you out.”

The uncomfortable feeling from the night before returned, but she was able to maintain her smile. “Thanks,” she said, though it came out as a whisper.

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and turned from him toward the house. She heard his footsteps in the sand after a second and exhaled a sigh of relief. She’d never last the week if she didn’t find some control soon.

“What was that about?” Sophie demanded when Mal was close enough to ask without alerting the others.

A thousand snarky things came to mind as a response, but she plastered a polite look on her face. “I was getting some pictures of the resort this morning for Jenna, and Hunter ran into me. He volunteered to help me find some good places to shoot. He knows a lot about this place.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Well, he should. He owns the place.”