Authors: Olivia Batto
He scooped his keys off the end table next to the couch. He had to apologize, but first he needed supplies. If she never wanted to see him again afterward, so be it, but the least he could do was tell her he was sorry.
By the time he returned with a bottle of wine and half an apology planned, he was much less sure of himself. She’d told him to leave her alone. Was it right to ignore a direct request, even to make an apology?
His answering machine blinked at him from the living room, and he placed the wine bottle on the counter. It was a Cabernet they had both wanted to try, but maybe he should just drink it alone. He stalked to his answering machine, punching the button and putting the uncertainty off for later.
“Hi honey! Don’t worry about calling back, I’m about to go into a movie.” His mother’s voice broke the silence in the room, her excessive cheerfulness making him smile. He didn’t bother to check his cell phone for a missed call, she was the main reason he still had a land line. “I don’t want to disturb you on your cell phone, but I just wanted to tell you I talked to your friend Art. You remember him, don’t you? Nice young man from culinary school? You were such good friends. He’s got a 100th episode party coming up.”
The temporary lift of Hunter’s spirits took an abrupt downward turn. Art had been his best friend in culinary school. He’d even introduced Hunter to Shannon, the woman he’d almost married. Art had gone on to host a successful cooking show on public television and become a minor celebrity. Hunter’s mother used Art as an example whenever she thought it was time to remind her son of his old profession.
“Now Art seemed to think you weren’t going to attend the party, but I promised him I’d make sure you showed up,” the recording continued, his mother’s decisive tone echoing in his ears. “If you’ve got plans, cancel them. Or better yet, bring whoever you’ve got plans with along with you. It’s next week. Thursday. Your sister and I will see you there.”
He tossed a hand in the air in silent surrender at the implied threat. His sister hated going to parties, and was the best practical joker he’d met. If he didn’t show up when she had to attend, she’d be sure to exact her revenge in a strange and probably frightening way.
As if she’d anticipated his agreement in her message, his mother’s voice softened. “I love you, son. I’m looking forward to seeing you.”
When the end message beep sounded, he pressed the delete button. He still had the invitation from Art somewhere, he’d get it later. As he turned to face the wine bottle on his counter, a knock sounded at the door.
“Well isn’t today full of distractions.” He muttered, stalking to the door and pulling it open. He froze in disbelief.
Alex stood on the other side, her cinnamon colored eyes looking somewhere behind him and to the right as she lifted a wine bottle for his inspection. A Cabernet. The one they had both wanted to try. “I came to offer an apology-” Her dark brows drew together with an almost audible snap as she noticed his shaking shoulders. “Why are you laughing?”
“I’m sorry,” he gasped, feeling his face redden. He tried not to guffaw in the face of the woman who had solved at least one of his problems. “Please come in.” He waved her to place the wine on the kitchen counter, where an identical bottle already stood.
She paused, and her glance flitted between the two bottles. “Oh.” Alex seemed even more confused as she turned toward him. “I didn’t realize you had some already.”
Hunter shook his head, his laughter under control. “You aren’t the only one who thought to apologize with booze,” he explained.
As understanding slowly dawned, her lips curved into a sarcastic smile. “Great minds, I guess.”
“Well.” Hunter searched her face. If he was going to open up to her, it was now or never. He took a steadying breath. “You don’t need my help, and I’ve realized giving it unasked all the time is pretty disrespectful. So it’s me who should apologize.”
Alex shrugged. “I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you. So we’re both to blame, I think. But apology accepted.”
“Same.” Hunter tried not to grin as he pointed to the wine. “So, whose bottle should we open?”
CHAPTER SIX
Hunter
“My mother means well, she really does.” Hunter sat back. His freshly topped off glass of wine rested in his hand. This stuff was dangerously delicious. They’d almost finished the bottle. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or his relief at finally talking his problems out to another person which helped him relax. Either way, he felt different. Lighter.
“Of course she does.” Alex had moved closer as they talked, and the wine had painted her cheeks with bright red spots. “Why do you think she’s trying to get you back into cooking for a living?”
Hunter shrugged. “She always thought it was my calling. She was so excited when Shannon and I started a restaurant, and she never did understand why I sold my share of it to Shannon when we called it off. It was like she only thought I was successful when I was cooking for a living.”
“Well,” Alex smiled at his arched eyebrow, bumping her knee into his playfully. “Think of it from a mother’s perspective. You used the money from the sale of your restaurant to buy this 8-plex, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “It only paid for half, but yes.”
“Right now, could you go purchase another apartment complex just like this one, and pay for half of it?” Her gaze bored into him as she took another sip of wine.
“Well, probably not. But what would I need another one for?”
Alex nibbled her lip and blinked at him. “Retirement, for one. The rent from the building makes a good paycheck, but is it enough to save up for later?”
“Ouch,” he winced. “I have a little bit of savings, but this building is pretty much my retirement plan. I was thinking I’d sell it when I was ready to retire.” He looked up to find her shaking her head in disbelief. “What?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.
“Putting all your hopes in one building isn’t a good idea,” she pointed out. “Even if there are no disasters which degrade the value of the apartment complex, what if no one wants to buy? Another investment, even just another building just like this one, would be less risky and allow you to have a contingency plan.”
Hunter rolled the wine around in his mouth, leaning back to stretch out his shoulders as he thought. He’d have time to take care of at least one other building, and it would probably help him during lean months to have another source of income. “When did you get good at this?”
Her answering laugh warmed his chest from the inside out. “I helped John manage his trust fund money,” she admitted. “He had no idea what to do with it, now he’s an investor with plenty of cash for the rest of his life.”
At the mention of John, her eyes dulled a little. Hunter raced to find something to say, to distract her from her ex. “Would you like to come to the party with me?” He flinched inwardly at the train wreck of a distraction, but Alex’s surprised smile proved it had worked.
“The party for your friend Art?” She gave him a calculated look, like she was about to administer a lie detector test.
“Yeah.” He held his breath for a moment. He’d never asked her out on a real date before.
Alex smiled and leaned toward him, her soft baby-powder and lavender scent teasing him. “The ladies at the hospital would be jealous of me,” she almost whispered, “there’s a not-so-secret mass crush on Art and his cooking show. It’s on every afternoon at lunch break. If they knew I’d met him in person, I think Elise and Carmen would swoon.”
“Really?” He swirled the wine in his glass and squashed the irrational curl of jealousy which surfaced. Art was a good-looking man. “So we’ve finally found a guy who can turn your head, hmm?”
She snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re much sexier.”
Hunter watched a flush creep from the base of her neck to her face. His tongue seemed thick in his mouth as he wondered how far under her clothes the rosy glow spread. The thought of watching her blush spread across her naked skin sent a flare of desire through him, and he inwardly cursed himself even as the awareness of how close they were sitting fired across his skin.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she told him, bumping him in the ribs with an elbow. “It’s just a statement of fact, nothing weird.” Her eyes were dark, the pupils wide.
His arm was resting on the couch back, just a few inches from her shoulders. He couldn’t recall putting it there, but was glad for it. He turned his torso toward her, watching her fall back against his arm. The hint of challenge which emanated from her quickened his pulse. He placed his wineglass on the coffee table and folded his arm more closely around her until one hand rested on her shoulder. “What’s wrong with weird?”
She leaned forward, her flushed face close as she squinted playfully. “You know exactly what’s wrong with weird. A person could ruin a friendship with too much weirdness, you know.”
Drunk from the smell of her wine-infused breath, he smiled and let his thumb stroke her soft skin. “Friends? Is that what we are?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Alexandra
A jolt shot through Alexandra. “I… but I thought…” Her stare bored into his as she scooted away. “We’re not friends?”
Before he answered, she saw the flicker in his eyes. Doubt. Regret. The same look she’d seen in John when he grew distant. She’d seen it enough times to know. What had she been thinking? An apology and some alcohol wasn’t enough to change things between them.
She sucked in a breath. Her chest tightened all the way up to her throat, and she stood. “I understand,” she told him, proud of how calm and collected her voice sounded. Tears stung her as she turned away. She hurried around the couch and cleared her throat to control the rush of emotion. She wasn’t going to die because of a little rejection. “Thanks for the wine. I should get home.”
A tug at her hand stopped her, and she looked up. Hunter had reached across the couch to catch her hand. His grasp was gentle, little more than warmth and a slight pull. “That wasn’t what I meant. You’ve been more than just a friend to me for a while, Alex.”
A jolt of an entirely different kind followed the first. Warmth trickled through her and settled in the base of her stomach, like a gulp of hot cocoa on a cold day. Hunter laced her fingers through his as he moved slowly around the couch. His thumb traced little circles on her palm. The sensation was a gentle tingle through her nerves until he released her and rested his hands on her hips. “Please, I’d really like it if you stayed.”
Her hands fell against his chest and stayed there, where she could feel his heartbeat against her fingertips. They wouldn’t push him away, even though she willed them to. Traitors.
Hunter lifted his hand to her cheek and rubbed his thumb slowly across her lower lip, his gaze locked on her mouth as if transfixed. Her tongue darted out instinctively to moisten her lips, flicking against his thumb before retreating. His ragged breath puffed against her face.
“Hunter…” She hesitated, her mind blank. He bent his head, barely brushing his lips against hers, and her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into his kiss.
A shock wave of desire hit her when she pressed her lips against his hot mouth. It drove every thought from her mind but the need to be closer. A tiny alarm bell was going off somewhere in the back of her mind, alone and ignored. All that mattered was feeling, touching and tasting him. Her arms wrapped around the narrow column of his waist, fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt and tracing the outlines of his muscles.
He groaned deep in his throat, the sound a rumble in his chest. She parted her lips for him, and his tongue invaded her mouth, exploring hungrily over her teeth and twining with her tongue. The flavor of the wine teased her, mingled with his own spicy-cedar taste. Alexandra returned the passionate sweeps of his tongue with her own, eager for more of him. She trapped his lower lip between her teeth, sucking it gently into her mouth.
Hunter tangled a hand in her hair to tilt her head further for better access, running his other hand possessively down her back to cup her ass. She pressed herself against him, fitting her curves to his hard angles. The feel of his arousal pressing against her stomach through his jeans thrilled her, moistening her panties and making her core tighten with need.
More. She needed more. Alexandra pulled the hem of his shirt higher, then smiled in appreciation when he stepped back to pull it off and toss it away. His hands went to the buttons of her cardigan, unfastening them and pushing it off her shoulders as he planted kisses along her jawline.
Suddenly nervous, she turned her mouth to his and caught his lips with her own. Maybe if he was too busy kissing her, he wouldn’t look at her. Wouldn’t recoil at the flabby skin she normally kept hidden under a sweater. Alexandra snuggled closer, both for shelter from his gaze and to feel the electric friction of his skin against hers.
His hands played over her skin, chased by a line of goosebumps. Her contented sigh broke off when he froze, his hands millimeters from her lacy bra clasp. He inched away, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. “Wait.”
“What’s the matter?” His breath was warm against her face, but she couldn’t step back. Not when she so desperately wanted another taste of him.