It didn’t change the fact that it was the truth.
He’d never really made plans with regards to his personal life; he was too busy with his professional and business life. Everything else came and went along with that. But now… he had plans—or the dream of them. There were so many things he wanted to do and see with Mal, so many ideas constantly swirling about his head, and nothing seemed impossible.
It would have absolutely terrified him if he weren’t so delighted about it.
There were no lights on at the house, which was unusual. It was still raining and rather dark, for it being almost one o’clock. He knocked several times and saw no movement from inside. He pulled out his phone and texted her quickly, waited a few minutes, and frowned again.
She was usually fairly quick with her responses. She was practically married to that phone; it enabled her to communicate with her assistants, mark the locations she had photographed recently, and keep her calendar of tasks and contracts on hand.
If she wasn’t here, she was probably with Taryn and Dan.
He rushed back to the truck, brushing the water from his sleeves and rubbing at his hair. He would be soaked through if he spent too much time out there; his jacket might be waterproof, but it was not deluge-proof. Rainy days at Lake Lure were one of his least favorite things.
He pulled out his phone again and called Taryn.
“Taryn Chase, artistic goddess and creative genius extraordinaire, how might I serve you?”
Hunter looked at his phone for a second, shaking his head. He would never understand that one. “Taryn, it’s Hunter. Is Mal there?”
“Hunter?” she squawked. “How did you get my number? Shut up, Dan, and watch the red eye. You just made that kid look like a demon.”
Hunter sighed and looked up at the ceiling of his car. “Taryn. Mal.”
“Right, yeah. Sorry, boss man. Um… Mal. Not here.”
He frowned. “Not there? Where is she?”
“Not with you, I take it?”
He didn’t answer.
“Right. You wouldn’t be calling if she was. Well, she must still be out on the shoot, then.”
Hunter’s ears perked up at that. “On the what now?”
She must have caught the sharpness in his tone, because she slipped on whatever she was saying and stopped. “Um… Mal said she was going out for a shoot? You can catch really amazing things in a rainstorm, particularly with the views you’ve got here.”
He growled and gripped his phone more tightly. “I specifically told her not to go out today!”
There was complete silence on the other end. Then, very weakly, Taryn squeaked, “I suppose now would not be the time to tell you that Mal doesn’t like being told what to do?”
Hunter hissed and brought his phone down, tempted to throw it out of the window, but somehow managed to find a bit of control. He replaced the phone at his ear. “Do you know where she went?” he asked, his teeth grinding together so hard his ears hurt.
“No,” Taryn said apologetically. “But I’m willing to bet it’s a place she’s already been. Days like today, you don’t take chances. You go where you know you’ll win.”
Hunter hung up the phone, tossed it onto the seat next to him, and sped off up the road he had just come down.
If Mal wanted to play with fire, she had picked the right starter. This was going to get ugly, and while he was absolutely crazy about her, this particular brand of crazy had limits. Ignoring his text about safety up here was right up there.
Knowing Mal, she was not properly dressed for this weather, wandering where there weren’t paths, and only concerned about getting the perfect shot. He had a fairly good idea of where she might have gone.
He drove toward the first area he had taken her to for a sunrise shoot. It had an incomparable view, and there were several places along the way she could have stopped for quality shots to distract her.
When he got to the point where he’d almost run her over that first morning, he watched more carefully. Sure enough, two curves later, there she was, drenched and trudging through the trees, smiling and looking for all the world as if she were in her element.
He screeched to a stop, threw the truck into park, and clambered out, slamming the door behind him. Mal turned to face him, her hair in two braids, though several strands clung to her cheeks. She wore a black track jacket over a V-necked shirt, jeans, and boots, so she wasn’t a complete idiot, which was comforting. Or, at least, it would be when he could feel comforted about anything.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he barked as he marched toward her, stopping at the edge of the road and looking up at her on the hill.