“He owns the place?” Dan repeated loudly. “Oh, man, I didn’t know I could hate someone so much.”
“Bless whatever people created this man.” Taryn sighed, clasping her hands in a prayer and looking up at the ceiling. “They should be sainted.”
“He is not staring at me like any particular holiday,” Mal corrected, her voice wavering with anger. “He’s listening to my side. He’s intense like that.”
“I like intense,” Taryn said, looking back at the picture.
Mal returned to her seat and sat heavily. “Have at him, then.”
“Nah, he’s in your bucket, babe,” Taryn replied. “I’ll take another fish.”
“He’s not–” Mal tried.
“Give it a rest, huh?” Dan interrupted gently, giving her a look. “Taryn’s just giving you a hard time. Just fire her and be done with it.”
And just like that, the topic was safer, as Taryn protested very vocally. They started joking about pictures and angles, and ideas volleyed back and forth.
Mal exhaled slowly and turned back to her computer, relieved that the familiar sound of their bickering was her soundtrack now. Anything to get away from that topic. She didn’t want to be gossip fodder on this trip, and no pretty face with intense eyes and control over her lungs was going to change that.
As she clicked through the pictures Hunter had taken that morning, she found a few of her, laughing in the sunlight and taking pictures herself. They were actually quite good, but how had she missed him taking them? And why, exactly, was he taking pictures of her?
Her heart sank somewhere around her stomach, and she swallowed with difficulty. Part of her fluttered with flattery; the other part filled with dread. This was going to be trouble, she could feel it.
He was trouble.
ChapterSix
Hunter was waiting outside of the Hen House before dawn the next morning, deciding to forgo the beanie this time, but everything else was fairly the same. He’d prepared something special for the sunrise shoot for Mal, but he probably went too far. He was way too involved and invested and had too much riding on her expressions. He was probably freaking her out more than anything, and almost freaking himself out in the process. He’d never felt anything like this so fast. He rarely felt like this at all.
Actually, he might never have felt like this before.
All he knew was he needed to be around her, and he needed to be the normal that she wanted. He could be normal. He was fairly normal, compared to everybody else here, but what did that actually mean? What he needed was time, and unfortunately, there was not a lot of that to go around at this particular point and with their current restrictions. Every second counted.
The lower door of the house opened, and Mal appeared, wearing the same coat from yesterday, but this time in jeans and a warm hat, as well as gloves and boots. She still wore both cameras and had her satchel, but no thermos. She didn’t look as if she’d slept well.
She saw him fairly quickly and did not have much of a reaction. She simply stared at him for a long moment, as if waiting for him to move.
“No cocoa today?” he asked softly, wondering why she was so far away. Maybe he was freaking her out. She’d called him intense yesterday, and yes, perhaps he had come off too strong, but he was feeling extremes with her, and he couldn’t figure out how to manage that.
She blinked unsteadily. “I barely touched mine yesterday, so it seemed stupid to bring more.” She lifted a leg to rub the boot against her other leg. “So, you really did plan out today’s shoot, huh? I thought you were just saying that.”
He shrugged. “I don’t usually just say things.”
She nodded once. “Good to know. Before I ask about that, is there any reason why I should be creeped out by you? And I’m not just saying this, Hunter. I’m being completely serious. I don’t know anything about you except what Tom said the other night and what you said yesterday. I haven’t asked about you because I’m not nosy, but you paying attention to me like this in a secluded place…” She looked at him helplessly. “I’m being honest here. Open. Cards on the table. Should I be creeped out by you?”
He reared back, stunned by that. She had been so carefree and full of banter yesterday, yet this morning, she was quiet and worried and nervous. “Mal, do I make you uncomfortable?”
“Yes,” she said simply.
“In a good way or a bad way?” he asked, trying to lighten things a little.
She didn’t take it. “Both.”
He grunted softly. He liked that she was unsettled around him, but only so far as it could mean she might feel something for him if he didn’t screw it up. He didn’t want her to be scared or worried or anything but excited to be with him.
“I have a clean record,” he told her, keeping his voice down. “No felonies or misdemeanors, nothing that is sealed or had to be expunged. I don’t cheat, I play and fight fair, and I’m a very overprotective brother to a younger sister who taught me how to treat women. I’m spending time with you because I want to, and I want you to want to. I never want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable, so you just tell me, all right?”
She seemed to consider that for a moment, and he held his breath. Then she nodded. “All right.”