Deep Focus (18 page)

“Which is why you’re sitting across from me looking as though I grounded you on prom night. Do you want to see her?”

It was too hard to lie to his mother. She saw right through him. “Well, yeah, but...”

“But nothing. I didn’t raise a quitter.”

Hunter tossed down the other half of the fry, abandoning it. He had a sour taste in his mouth as he swallowed. “What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“Um, you tell her you want to make her forget all about her loser ex.”

She was giving him a headache and making him feel seriously emasculated. “Mom, that’s antiquated. Melanie needed to make her own decision about what she wanted. I can’t be all ‘come here, woman.’ That’s not how guys act now.”

“Bullcrap. You should have picked her up and carried her off.”

“You’ve seen
An Officer and a Gentleman
too many times.”

“If it worked for Richard Gere, it can work for you.”

Oh, my God.
“I’m telling you, that doesn’t work.”

“You don’t know if you don’t try. It would work with me.”

That he didn’t doubt. His mother was a little over the top, but she might have a point. Whether it had been in Melanie’s best interest or not, he had quit the field. He had wanted her to take some time and come to the conclusion that she did in fact want to date him. Hell, maybe his mother was right. Maybe he should have gone all alpha male and staked his claim.

“She called me and left a message saying she wanted to talk.”

“This is not a time for talking. This is a call to arms.” His mother gave a fist pump. “Do you have real feelings for her? This isn’t just about a piece of ass?”

The expression appalled him. “No, of course not! I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her.” He was. Melly was the sweetest, most generous and unforgettable woman he had ever met.

Now his mother just looked smug. “It’s about damn time. I was starting to think you had a block of ice in your chest where your heart was supposed to be. Not a single woman has ever been able to melt you, but now you’re like a snowman in a hothouse. I love it.”

“I’m glad my misery is amusing to you.”

“Don’t be melodramatic.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’m happy for you, you big oaf. I want to see you happy and in love and thinking about settling down, getting married. Having children. That’s all.”

That made him feel a little remorseful. He knew she had his best interests at heart. He didn’t need to snark at his mother, even when she was being outrageous. “Thanks. I know that.”

“Then put on your man pants and go tell her how you feel.” His mother shook her head. “If I had a dime for every time a man kept his trap shut when he should have opened it, I’d have a condo in Naples, Florida, by now.”

He couldn’t argue with her. He wasn’t known for throwing it all out there. “Naples would bore you,” he told her. “Too many old people.”

“Rich single men, though.”

“Stop.”

She laughed. “Okay, I’ll quit teasing you. But, God, it’s just so easy to do.”

“You’re warped.”

“Is Melanie anything like me?”

“No. She is probably the total opposite of you.” He gave his mother a grin. “There is no competing with you, so I went for the other end of the spectrum. Melanie is a little naive, very sweet, organized.”

“You’re right, that isn’t anything like me.” She stole one of his fries. “You know, I think that’s why I didn’t like Danielle. She was my younger twin, so we butted heads.”

Hunter had never thought about it before, but he could see it. “That’s terrifying.”

She laughed. “Well, I can’t wait to meet the new girl.”

“You’re pretty confident in my charms.” He wasn’t so sure.

“Of course I am. I raised you, for one. But you’re also your father’s son, and that man was smoking hot and charming as hell. I couldn’t resist him. So this girl will be putty, I have no doubt.”

It was flattering, he supposed, both to himself and to his father. Yet all so very awkward.

He flagged the passing waiter down. “Can we have the check, please?”

Time to go home and regroup.

“Just remember, WWRGD,” his mother said.

Did he even want to ask? “What does that stand for?”

“What would Richard Gere do?”

Okay, that made him laugh. “You’re a lunatic.” He lifted his beer to his lips and took a sip.

“And you’re an officer
and
a gentleman.”

Hunter choked on his beer. No wonder he had a ridiculous sense of humor. He came by it honestly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll do my best not to let you down.”

Or himself. He wanted Melanie.

WWRGD?

Damn.

* * *

M
ELANIE
SPENT
S
UNDAY
evening checking her phone repeatedly and poring over the online job listings. Strangely, she wasn’t experiencing the blind panic that she would have expected. She had quit her job on impulse. She was single, by choice in the case of Ian, and not by choice in the case of Hunter. But if she had learned anything from the past year, it was that she couldn’t force someone to feel more for her than they did.

Ian hadn’t contacted her again after she had stormed out of his office. She was planning to go back in on Monday, inform her coworkers, collect the rest of her things and leave. It would be ludicrous to put in two weeks’ notice because it would be impossibly uncomfortable all around, but she needed to transition her work to other employees.

Melanie padded into the kitchen and pulled the previous day’s leftover Chinese takeout from the fridge, dumping some on a plate.

No, work and Ian were not bothering her. Not really.

It was Hunter that was bothering her.

How could he just walk away and not bother to answer her texts or phone call? Why hadn’t he wanted to see her at all? It didn’t ring true to her that he was trying to protect her from getting hurt. That was such a bullshit guy cop-out.

She put her plate in the microwave and slammed the door shut, mentally kicking herself. The real reason was probably because she’d gotten him fired.

Dressed in the same pajamas she’d been wearing since Friday night, she bit her fingernails. She had to call him again. No texts. Gather her nerve and just do it.

Like the zip line. Just close her eyes and go.

She picked up her phone. It buzzed.

Nerves on edge, she jumped. “Oh, my God,” she blurted out loud to her empty apartment. It was Hunter.

Can I pick you up at work tomorrow? We need to talk.

I don’t think that’s a good idea.

Her heart was hammering in her chest. He wanted to talk to her. That was good. That had to be good. Then she realized her response sounded totally wrong. Like she was suggesting talking was a bad idea. “What is wrong with me?” she groaned. “I can’t be trusted to text.”

I mean, maybe we can meet somewhere else? I’d love to talk. But maybe at work would be awkward?

She didn’t exactly sound confident. But she was just so glad to hear from Hunter that she was typing faster than she was thinking. Or something like that. Why couldn’t anyone just pick up the phone and call anymore? She could explain herself better. Faster.

I talked to Ian.

See, that was why texting was lame.

About what?

Melanie took a deep breath. She had to let him know everything. All of it. If he wanted to do this via text message, then so be it.

I quit my job. I don’t want to work for Ian. I want a fresh start, somewhere I’ll be appreciated.

After taking her food out of the microwave, she grabbed her fork and nervously shoveled a pile of noodles into her mouth.

You definitely deserve to be appreciated.

Okay, what did that mean? This was crazy.

He told me you got fired. I am so, so sorry, Hunter.

Melanie picked up the phone and hit Call on Hunter’s contact page. She swallowed the lump of noodles caught in her throat.

“Hello?”

“I can’t do texting,” she said without a greeting, her voice sounding as if she’d been jogging for at least fifteen miles. Uphill. “I screw it up and everything sounds wrong. I’m really sorry about getting you fired. I should have kept my damn mouth shut, and I totally understand if you despise me.”

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean for that to happen. I shouldn’t have walked out the way I did.” In return, he sounded gruff, like the Hunter she had first met. “That was a dick move.”

“It wasn’t what I wanted,” she admitted. “It seemed so...abrupt.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she knew what he was thinking.

A phone call was better than a text, but it was nothing like being in person, where you could see someone’s expression. Touch him. This was so hard. She wanted to tell Hunter she had fallen in love with him, but she just couldn’t do it over the phone. It wasn’t right. She needed to read his reaction, see his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said.

And? He must have more to say than that.

There was a huge and grossly awkward pause.

Heat rose in her face, and she didn’t know what to say. “Okay. Thank you.”

They were back to the politeness they had been displaying at her apartment. Where was the easiness they’d shared in Cancún?

“Are you okay?” he asked, sounding hesitant.

A phone call wasn’t solving anything. Melanie felt the lump rise in her throat again. “Do you still want to get together tomorrow? Maybe we can meet somewhere convenient for both of us.”

“Are you going to Bainbridge Studios?”

“Yes, I have to formally turn in my resignation and get some things from my desk.”

“Will Ian be there?”

“I have no idea, but probably not. He has some appointments scheduled.” She honestly did not understand what Hunter was getting at. He hadn’t been this hard to interpret in Cancún. In fact, he had been pretty straightforward.

All week she had been hoping to hear from him, and now it wasn’t helping to alleviate any of her fears or confusion.

She just felt...sad.

As though she had lost Hunter before she’d ever even had him.

“Hmm. Okay. Well, why don’t you call me when you’re done, and we can make some plans?”

That was a brush-off.

It meant by the time they talked and made plans they might end up meeting for coffee or a drink by eight at the earliest. After a week of wanting to see him and letting her nerves get the best of her, she was going to either blurt out her feelings in one embarrassing verbal vomit, or she was going to clam up completely.

She was already clamming up.

“Sure. Great. Have a good night,” she said, as though she was ending a call with her accountant.

She had seen and touched every inch of Hunter. She had felt him moving inside her. But he felt as remote as the warm breeze and the sandy beach.

Her windows rattled from the howling winter wind.

Making a face at her plate, she tossed down her fork.

Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up, heart rate kicking up in anticipation. It was an alert on her calendar going off, telling her it was the longest night of the year.

Because she needed a reminder? Thanks, smartphone. She was already quite aware of that, thank you very much.

16

H
UNTER
HAD
MEANT
it when he’d told Melanie he wasn’t great at voicing his emotions, nor was he was known for being particularly romantic. He thought that was pretty evident in how he’d handled everything since they’d gotten home from Cancún. He’d pretty much sucked hard at his delivery. His expertise was listening, not speaking.

Her phone call had reminded him that text messages were lame, and he was so annoyed at himself for not picking up the phone first, forcing her to do it, that he had been stiff throughout their conversation. For a minute there, he had actually thought maybe his mother was wrong, and it didn’t matter one bit how much he cared about Melanie. She deserved better. But then he realized that the ultimate insult was not allowing her to make that choice for herself. If he respected and appreciated her, he should give her the opportunity to accept or reject him.

If she thought she was ready to date again after Ian, who the hell was he to say she wasn’t? It was his role to offer support, not tell her what to do. It was his goddamn forte. He should have gone with his strength instead of running from it.

Blowing on his hands to warm them up, he stood outside her glass-front office building. No one had bothered to close the blinds, and with it getting dark so early, everyone inside was clearly visible through the windows. He could see Melanie packing up her desk, occasionally talking to various other employees who came by to speak to her. She was wearing a sweater, tight black pants and boots that came to her knees. Those boots were distracting as hell; they’d look great with a bra and panties and nothing else.

The image warmed him up from the inside out, that was for damn sure.

He was pacing back and forth like a voyeur, waiting for the right moment. Trouble was, he wasn’t exactly sure what that moment would look like, and he figured he only had about ten more minutes before she finished up and walked out. He couldn’t screw this up.

WWRGD?

His mother’s voice popped into his head.

Crap.

He strode across the street and yanked open the door to Bainbridge Studios.

The receptionist looked up at him. “Oh, hello. Aren’t you Mr. Ryan, from the security firm?”

“Yes.”

He moved past her desk, ignoring the way the woman half stood up, startled. “You can’t go in there...”

Hunter didn’t care. He ignored all the stares as he moved across the open-concept office space, past several desks. He was going to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth and express his goddamn feelings if it killed him. A bullet would probably be easier to take.

Melanie turned suddenly, her eyes wide, as if she’d sensed his presence. “Hunter?” she murmured, her voice sexy and low and filled with promise.

It reminded him of how she had sounded in bed, groaning his name into his ear as he’d buried himself deep inside her. How tender she had been, generous, quick to touch him, to cuddle. The beautiful way she had smiled at him in the hammock, captured on his phone in a shot he had spent an insane amount of time studying over the past two days.

“I thought you said to text you,” she faltered.

He stalked right up to her, cupped her cheeks and kissed her for all to see. Her mouth trembled beneath his, and he kissed her hard, letting his lips speak the words he never had.

When he pulled back and saw that her eyes were filled with confusion, but also something more than that, he found the words.

“Melly, I’ve fallen in love with you. I know that sounds crazy, but I don’t want to just see you casually or let things fizzle out because I didn’t have the balls to tell you how I feel. Or because I’m afraid to hurt you, or I’m afraid you’re going to hurt me. I want to be with you because I think you’re amazing and beautiful and kind. I love you.”

Melanie stared up at Hunter in shock. He loved her. He. Loved. Her.

It seemed impossible. But there was no doubting it because he’d said it, and Hunter never said anything he didn’t mean. He also didn’t like to throw everything all out there in front of other people, yet he had.

He looked so gorgeous in his suit, all strong jaw and intense eyes. She smoothed his tie down over his chest, feeling suddenly very overwhelmed and tender toward him. “I love you, too. I’ve been wanting to tell you that for a few days, but I thought you’d think that I’d lost my mind.”

“You haven’t lost anything. You’ve gained a man. Whether you like it or not.”

Shivers rolled up her spine like a convoy of electricity. A man. Not a convenient and sensible relationship, but a man.

“Oh, I like it.” She yanked his tie harder. “I like it a lot.”

“Let’s get out of here, then.” Hunter bent over and scooped her up into his arms.

Melanie gave an involuntary squeak of shock and embarrassment. All her coworkers were gawking at them. But then she realized she didn’t care. She no longer wanted to hide.

“You always have the best ideas,” she told him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Her coworker Janice grabbed Melanie’s purse and her coat off her desk and thrust them at her, her eyes wide with surprise and possibly a touch of envy.

“Thanks,” Melanie said. The rest of her stuff could wait until tomorrow. Or never. She didn’t particularly care about her stapler.

Hunter carried her across the office. “Dinner?” he asked.

“As long as it’s delivery. My place is right around the corner.” She had missed him. She didn’t want to stare at him across a table in a restaurant—she wanted to be able to touch him. Repeatedly. In both mushy gushy ways, and in ways that were not appropriate for public viewing. Or even for a beach in Cancún.

“Delivery is fine with me. Let’s consciously couple.”

Melanie laughed. “You did not just say that.”

Hunter shoved open the front door and grinned at her. “I did say that. You want me to show you what I mean?”

There was that shiver again, and it didn’t have a damn thing to do with the blast of cold air that hit her in the face when they stepped outside. “Yes.”

So he did. Until Melanie forgot what
conscious
meant, but was well aware of the definition of
couple
.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from WICKED SECRETS by Anne Marsh.