“Taryn already offered to sneak me Nutella and Froot Loops,” Mal assured him as they entered the lodge. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”
Hunter gave her a hard look. “Woman cannot live on Nutella and Froot Loops alone.”
“You underestimate my creativity,” she quipped, taking the seat he pulled out.
He sat down across from her and leaned over the table, both hands in fists on the white tablecloth. “No. I don’t. How hungry are you?”
She swallowed the urge to say “famished” and only said, “I could eat.”
His perfect lips quirked into a perfect little smile. “Yeah, I got that. Why do I have the feeling you always ‘could eat’?” He pushed away from the table. “Fine, Mallory Hudson, I’m forced to scrounge for you.”
“Oh, come on,” she protested, starting to get up. “I can scrounge for myself.”
“Sit!” he ordered, pointing a finger at her chair. “I will not have the guests making a mess in the kitchens. Besides, I’m only getting ice cream.”
She perked up even as she laughed. “Ice cream? That’s supposed to tide me over?”
He gave her a look. “You object to ice cream?”
She sat back and grinned. “Not at all. Bring it on.”
He matched her smile and nodded, then disappeared behind the kitchen doors.
Mal sat at the table, a grin fixed on her face, and wondered what in the world had come over this guy. This rich, powerful, gorgeous guy was going to sit in this lodge with her and eat ice cream just because… he liked her? She wasn’t going to complain, but what was the endgame here?
“Oh, calm down, Mal,” she muttered to herself, still smiling. “It’s ice cream, not a proposal. Shut up and eat with the pretty man.”
And that’s what she did.
After dinner, she headed for the small cabin that Taryn and Dan, as well as the drivers, were staying in. She wanted to check out the pictures from today before they started editing, and she really wanted to avoid the Hen House as long as possible. She was supposed to go over to her aunt and uncle’s house later to catch up, and waiting with her assistants would be better than waiting with the hens. Besides, she needed some pictures to show Hunter for his consideration and get a better idea of what he was looking for from her.
A smile lit her lips before she could stop it. Ice cream with Hunter had been fun and surprisingly comfortable. They talked about her work, her adolescent years in Iowa, and, oddly enough, his Harley. He was very proud of it and absolutely appalled that she had never been on one. A scooter in Paris did not count, according to him, and he spelled out exactly why.
Mal had a history of guys that would have made people cry, not out of pity but out of hysterics, considering her age and fairish looks. But she was picky and she was busy—not that busy, but she claimed to be—and there wasn’t exactly a line at her door. At best, she was friendly. At worst, the definition of awkward.
But something about Hunter made talking with him, and liking him, really easy. She refused to consider anything serious about it. He was a nice guy who said nice things, and if it made her time here more bearable, that would be great.
The fact that he set her insides on fire was completely beside the point.
Taryn and Dan took a minute to show her their cabin, which was rustic and way more Mal’s style than the fancy, mansionesque Hen House. But then they went to the office designated for their work, and she saw that they had already been at work. The barbecue pictures were on one screen, and the Kids’ Day on another, and so far, things looked good.
She pulled out her laptop and started loading the pictures from the morning shoot when she heard a throat clearing pointedly. She turned in her chair and looked at Taryn, who was turned to face her, pencil behind an ear, one brow quirked.
“Mallory,” Taryn said in a sober voice that did not suit her. “Would you care to explain this?” She was pointing at a picture on her screen from Kids’ Day, but it wasn’t of any of the kids. It was adults.
Mal frowned. “I didn’t take that.”
Dan laughed loudly once, and Taryn shook her head as if Mal had missed a critical point. “Yes, I know that,” Taryn said. “I did. Would you like to explain what is going on here?”
Mal looked closer and saw that it was a picture of her and Hunter on the beach. Taryn clicked a few more times, and Mal saw at least seven pictures, each one closer and more personal.
“What are you doing?” she asked, feeling a little panicked. “Are you stalking me, Taryn?”
Taryn snorted. “I was trying to get a picture of Hunter because—well, look at the man. He’s like that cake that says ‘Eat Me’ in Alice in Wonderland.” She broke off to glare at Dan, who was laughing hysterically, then she looked back at Mal. “So, I thought I’d snap a shot of him for my Drool Board at home, except I couldn’t get a shot of him alone because he was too close to you and looking at you like you were Christmas. What’s going on?”
Mal clamped her lips together and fought the urge to scream. It was one thing for Hunter to pay attention to her; it was quite another for people to notice. That was when things got out of hand.
“He helped me with the sunrise shoot this morning,” she said slowly. “And didn’t tell me he owns the place. That is us fighting about it and then him explaining. That’s it.”