“This is incredible,” Mal said to herself, but loud enough that Hunter caught it. She went to the back door to go out onto the deck, pausing to catch something the windows were doing.
“It’s yours,” Hunter blurted out.
Mal froze, took one picture, then lowered her camera. Slowly, almost horrified, she turned to face him. “Say what now?” she asked, her voice barely controlled.
Hunter scratched the back of his neck anxiously. “Well, not yours, not like that. I’m not giving you a house, that’s… That would be ridiculous. But I could, if I wanted to. If you wanted…”
“Hunter.”
He sighed and put his hands into his pockets. “I reserved it for you. You’re staying here now.” He shrugged lightly, his eyes never leaving hers. “I thought you’d like it.”
She blinked once, then again, and put her hands on her hips, looking down at the floor. “My stuff is already here, isn’t it?”
He winced. “Yeah. It’s in the master bedroom downstairs.”
“And what about Jenna?”
“I told her you needed more privacy and personal space for work and easier access to various resort locations, but you didn’t want to say anything to upset her.” He quirked a brow and gave her a knowing look. “All of which is the truth, I might remind you.”
She looked up at him, and the green glint in her eyes was enhanced by her emerald top and only made her more captivating. “And who said you got to make those decisions? Seriously, Hunter? People are already talking, and your interference is going to make more of a spectacle of us than there already is.”
“So what?” he argued, coming over to her. “Mal, you were miserable over there! I just wanted you to be happy, and I know you will be more comfortable on your own.”
“Yeah, and it’s very sweet, and the house is perfect, but the fact that you knew that, that you even thought that…” She exhaled sharply and rubbed at her head. “It’s too much. With everything else, it’s all too much.” She looked up at him again, her expression unreadable. “I need this to be private too. I need to not be the topic of conversation. It’s crazy enough as it is. Can you do that, or do I need to file a restraining order?”
He wanted to laugh, but she looked completely serious.
“I’m sorry that I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he said softly. “I never meant to do that. Well, maybe a little, but only in a good way.” He gave her a hint of a smile and was relieved when she returned it. He looked at her for a long moment, then admitted, “I just can’t seem to let you out of my sight. I told you yesterday that I like you, Mallory. And today, I like you even more. And you’re going to have to get used to it, because I have no intention of stopping anytime soon.”
Her eyes widened, and she chewed on her lip for a moment. “Oh…” she finally whispered.
He took two steps closer to her. “Still want a restraining order?”
She cleared her throat briefly. “I-I plead the fifth.”
He wasn’t quite sure he heard her correctly, but he caught the tone of her voice. “That’s not a yes,” he pointed out, keeping his voice steady and slow.
She nodded once, her eyes on his. “Correct.”
His heart lurched against his ribs. “So… no?”
“I didn’t say that.” She tilted her head, as if considering her options.
Hunter let a slow, sly grin cross his face. “Sweetheart, that’s a wide-open invitation to a guy like me.”
Mal smirked up at him. “A guy like you? What are you?”
He reached out a hand to touch hers. “Determined,” he murmured, daring her to pull away.
She blinked slowly, once, twice, then swallowed and interlaced their fingers.
He smiled, unable to do anything else, and nodded. “Okay. Let me show you the rest of the house.”
It didn’t take long, as the house was small, but Mal was so delighted with everything that it took twice as long as it should have. She raved about the kitchen and refused to let him bring in an employee to cook for her. He’d seen to it that the basics had been supplied for her, along with her precious Nutella and Froot Loops and a massive selection of cocoa. According to her, that was all she would need.
He paused in the kitchen, still holding her hand, the tour of the place finished. He needed to get back to Tom and the guys, and dinner was at the lodge in an hour and change. But something else needed to be said before he left, before she was apart from him and back in her own head.
“Mal,” he said quietly, stroking her hand, “I need you to stop fighting me. I need to know that the version of you I leave is the one I get back. Decide now if you are in or out, sweetheart. Because I’m not going anywhere. And with how you’re holding my hand right now, I get the feeling you’re okay with that. Am I right?”