“Great. I haven’t eaten yet.”
“I don’t have enough food for two.”
“Then we can go to my place. I’ve got plenty of food.”
She shook her head vehemently. “I don’t want to go out.”
“Fine. I’ll bring the food over here. I haven’t seen you in years. It’ll be fun to catch up on things.”
Kissing him would be fun. The rebel thought chased through her mind. She chased it out just as fast. What was wrong with her? She didn’t have enough problems already with all her nightmares and no backbone? Now she had to go and get sentimental about a man she had a crush on years ago? A man who had always treated her like a sister.
“I make a mean spaghetti sauce,” Hunter declared, his Southern drawl seductively sliding down her spine.
“I’ll bet you do. But-”
“I’ll be right back with all the fixings.”
Hunter was gone before she could voice a protest.
The good news was that he’d left before she’d made too big a fool of herself. The bad news was that he’d be back and shed better be ready for him. The problem was that Gaylynn had her doubts that there was any way for her to get ready for a man who represented even more danger to her already shattered peace of mind.
Hunter had only planned on doing a quick check on Gaylynn and then going on his way. He didn’t know what had made him insist on sharing his dinner with her. Maybe it had been the shadows in her big brown eyes—root-beer-colored eyes that he’d remembered as always sparkling with life. Of course, a lot of time had gone by since then.
She had to be what. nearing thirty by now. He’d just turned thirty-five himself. Hunter didn’t know where the time went. He’d meant to keep in better touch with Michael up in Chicago, but all he’d been able to manage was a Christmas card most years. He really regretted not being able to attend the wedding.
He also regretted blurting out his concern so awkwardly, telling Gaylynn she looked awful. That wasn’t like him. He didn’t blame her for almost biting his head off. But he’d seen the shuttered pain and had wanted to help.
What could have caused this change in Gaylynn? Why had she left her brother’s wedding reception last night to head for a remote cabin in the mountains? Michael, too wrapped up in his newfound happiness, hadn’t had any answers. But Hunter planned on getting answers, because he couldn’t help her until he did.
And I suppose the fact that she’s an attractive woman has nothing to do with your Good Samaritan routine, an inner voice mocked him.
“She wasn’t that attractive,” he muttered under his breath as he entered his own cabin.
Right, now you’re talking to yourself, just like Gaylynn was. And if she isn’t that attractive, then why did you feel such a zip of excitement when you looked at her?
“That was hunger,” he said as he grabbed the fixings for a great spaghetti sauce from his cupboards and fridge.
Gaylynn was just the sister of an old friend, and his reasons for wanting to make sure she was okay were strictly altruistic. That was his story and he was sticking to it, as he and Michael used to say.
Gaylynn spent the first ten minutes after Hunter had left getting cleaned up. A quick shower and change of clothing helped. There wasn’t time to wash her hair, but a vigorous brushing had improved things somewhat. Her baby-fine brown hair was straight as a board and had a definite mind of its own. The blunt-cut tips ended just past her shoulders. It was getting too long; she should have gotten it cut.
Hunter’s hair had been long, too. Like he’d been too busy to have it cut lately. She hadn’t been too busy, she’d been too freaked out.
Biting her bottom lip, she took a deep breath and reapplied her makeup. “You’re a good actress,” she told her reflection in the mirror. “So put on a good act tonight.”
Granted, she’d been able to sidestep Hunter’s questions so far, but he wasn’t liable to let her off the hook so easily next time. Like a dog with a bone, Hunter would just nag at her until he found out what was wrong. He was like her brother that way.
Luckily for Gaylynn, Michael had been distracted by events in his own life at the time of the attack on her. He’d been fighting to keep custody of little Hope, who’d been abandoned and left with Brett before she and Michael had gotten married. Yes, her brother had had his hands full, which was the only reason he hadn’t given her his customary third degree about her wanting to use his cabin. Instead, he’d just let her do her thing.
That wouldn’t be the case with Hunter. So she’d better have her story down pat by the time he came back because he could sniff out a mystery a mile away.
“Okay, I admit it, you do make a mean spaghetti sauce,” Gaylynn admitted as she licked a stray bit of sauce from the corner of her mouth.
Hunter watched her with the eyes of a hawk. She’d noticed the way he’d been watching her all evening, but she was unable to discern the thoughts going through his head. For her part, she’d been deliberately cheerful, talking about some of the people from their old neighborhood.
“I can’t believe little Joey del Greco is a priest now,” Hunter said with a rueful shake of his head.
Gaylynn grinned. “I’ll tell him you said so.”
“Last time I saw him, he was what we call down here ‘knee-high to a grasshopper’ and was stealing apples from the Jablonskis’ apple tree.”
“The apple tree is gone, and so are the Jablonskis.”
“Funny how you picture things staying the way they were when you saw them last. Like you. I pictured you with that White Sox cap on your head.”
“I still wear it on bad hair days,” she declared dryly. “How about your folks? How are they doing?”
“Fine. They’ve retired down to Florida now. Have a nice condo in Sarasota.”
“Does your dad still claim the Cubs are gonna win the World Series before the year 2000?”
“He sure does,” Hunter confirmed with a slow smile. “Although I’ve got to say that he’s starting to get a little nervous about that prediction. And how about your folks? Your dad still making those Gypsy weather forecasts that amazed the entire neighborhood?”
“You bet. He’s more accurate than any of the weathermen on TV.”
“I remember one time he took Michael and me fishing up in Wisconsin and tried to teach us how to ‘tickle’ trout. Neither one of us managed to catch on, though.”
Groaning at his obvious pun, Gaylynn crumpled up her paper napkin and tossed it at him.
Hunter merely grinned and ducked before continuing his story. “Your dad caught something like half a dozen trout. And I’ll never forget the way he left one hanging in the tree nearby before we left.”
“To bring good luck and ensure there would be good fishing at that site the next time,” Gaylynn explained.
“That’s right. You know, I’ve got to tell you, I was always envious of the way you guys got to open your Christmas presents early on Christmas Eve. And if I remember right, you got extra presents even earlier than that.”
Gaylynn nodded. “Left in our shoes on Saint Nicholas’s Day.”
“We had some good times in those days.”
“Yeah, we did,” she agreed softly. When she’d been a child, the world had been her oyster. She’d been the only girl in her family, with one older and one younger brother. Their protective