Suddenly her bottom lip began to tremble. Aw, shit. Was she going to cry? He never knew what to do when women cried.
“But I thought…” she hiccupped. “When you hired me on at the clinic—”
Over her shoulder, Hunter saw Isobel fleeing down the back hallway in the direction of the restrooms. She didn’t stop at the ladies, though. No, she blew past the restrooms and shoved open the back door, then pushed into the night.
Hawthorne was a pretty quiet town but they weren’t that far off the interstate. What was she thinking, running out there all alone when she was drunk off her ass?
“—that we had a real connection. You gave me that look when we were scheduling the surgery for Mr. Bartlett’s poodle. I knew you wanted m—”
“Sorry, if you’ll excuse me,” Hunter cut Sandra off midsentence and went to chase after Isobel. What the hell was wrong with her supposed escorts that they abandoned her right when she needed them most? He was going to have words with Xavier. If the man couldn’t corral his men to act responsibly when they were out in town, something had to be done.
Hunter shoved people aside on the dance floor when they didn’t get out of his way fast enough.
“Whoa, Hunter, why in such a hurry?” more than one person asked him. He ignored them all and just kept moving, finally jogging when he got to the hall corridor.
When he exploded out the back door, he looked left or right. Dammit, which way did she go?
But finally he heard the faint sounds of a woman crying.
Christ, that sound was enough to rip any man apart, but coming from her? What had happened? If one of those assholes had hurt her… His hands clenched into fists.
“Isobel?” he hurried toward the sound and found her crouched down against the wall behind the bar’s dumpster, knees to her chest.
“Go away!” she turned her back to him when she saw him.
“What’s wrong? Did one of those bastards touch you? I swear, if either of them laid a hand on you, I’ll—”
“What?” She sounded both confused and incredulous. She stood up, using the wall for leverage. “God, no. Mack and Liam are great.”
Hunter took a step back. “Then why…” his voice trailed off as she swiped at her cheeks.
“It was nothing. God, I’m just an idiot.” She’d kept her face averted the whole time but suddenly her eyes flashed up to him. “What do you care anyway? Won’t your date be mad you left her to chase after another woman? That’s kind of an a-hole move.”
“Date?” Hunter’s mind was blank before it finally registered. “What, you mean Sandra?” He scoffed. “She’s not my date. She just came up to me and—”
“Hey, no need to explain.” Isobel held up her hands. “I’m not trying to get in the way of your next hookup. Your business is your business.”
She took a few steps toward the club door like she was going to head back in.
“Wait,” Hunter put out a hand. “Stop.”
If she’d thought he was with Sandra and nothing had happened with Liam or Mack… was that why she’d been out here crying? He blinked. She’d been crying over him?
“It’s not like that with Sandra and me.” It sounded stupid, he knew as soon as he said it, but it seemed important for her to understand.
She shrugged. “Whatever. Like I said. None of my business.”
“What if it was?” He took a step closer. Shit. What was he doing? He didn’t know but his hand was drawn like a magnet to push a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her breath hitched at the contact.
Her eyes searched his, back and forth. He could see confusion there. And something else. Longing?
Christ, she was beautiful. And more than that. She was kind. Patient. Compassionate. She was beautiful in all the ways that counted.
So it seemed like the most natural thing in the world when he cupped her jaw and drew her face down to his.
When his lips pressed against hers, his blood lit on fire.
She gasped and jerked away. “You’ve been nothing but an asshole to me ever since that first night.” She glared at him.