Page 16 of Dare To Kiss You
“Can I get you a drink? I’ve got water, coffee, beer, or milk.”
“Milk?” I ask, surprised by that offer.
Hunter just grins. “What else would I put out for Santa on Christmas Eve?”
A couple of minutes later, he walks over and sets down two glasses of cold milk on the coffee table before sitting down on the couch beside me.
“I decided Christmas cookies need milk. Hope that’s alright with you.”
I nod, smiling. Hunter opens the box of cookies I brought, and his eyes widen. “Wow, Kat. These look incredible!”
He pulls out an iced Santa hat sugar cookie and looks at me with wonder. “You did this?”
“Yup. My Mom and I do a ton of iced cookies every year. The chocolate crinkles I made fresh this morning.”
“Chocolate crinkles are myfavourite,” he says reverently, putting the Santa hat away and digging for the chocolate cookie. His eyes fall shut as he takes a bite and moans. “Ohhh. So good.” Crumbs fall from his mouth, and he looks at me sheepishly as he wipes them away. “Sorry, I haven’t had these in years.”
“It’s okay.” I laugh. “I’m glad you’re enjoying them.” I pick up a raspberry jam thumbprint cookie and nibble at it. Hunter demolishes his first cookie and grabs a second, making quick work of that one as well.
“I was really happy you asked me to go with you to the animal shelter fundraiser.”
I look over at Hunter in surprise. He sounds hesitant, and for the life of me, I cannot figure out why.
“Oh! Well, thank you for saying yes,” I reply, feeling my own version of awkward. This feels like we’re teenagers, with zero social skills, dancing around our feelings for each other. The image of me in braces and glasses, frizzy hair and zero fashion sense makes me laugh under my breath. Because the reality is, Hunter probably wouldn’t have given me the time of day, much less agreed to go to a party with me. Thank goodness, grown-up me has a few things figured out, like hair products.
“What’s funny? Do I have crumbs on my face?” Hunter wipes at his chin, looking embarrassed, and I put my hand on his wrist to stop him. The instant we make contact, we both freeze, staring at each other.
“No, no, you’re fine,” I reassure him. My lip gets tugged between my teeth and I feel a blush creep over my cheeks. “I was just thinking about what it might have been like if we knew each other when we were younger.”
His eyebrows lift. “And it was that funny?”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I was a hardcore nerd. Big glasses, fuzzy hair, braces — it was not a good look. You probably wouldn’t have even noticed me.”
“I would have noticed you.”
The words come out so quietly I almost miss them, but I don’t miss the intense heat in his gaze.
I can no longer deny that things are shifting between us. He’s still the hunky neighbour I’ve crushed on, but now I’m letting myself see beyond that. Beyond the sexy man I’ve been denying my attraction to. I’m starting to get glimpses of the man beneath the good looks and upbeat personality. His vulnerabilities that I get the feeling he doesn’t show very often, his soft side, his caring side. He’s more than just the happy-go-lucky Hunter.
I want to know more.
I want to know all of him.
The problem is, does he want all of me?
Chapter eight
Hunter
When I was hired by the Dogwood Cove Police Department, I chose to disclose my learning disability to the chief. Mostly because I wanted the ability to provide my reports dictated and typed instead of handwritten. Thankfully, they were more than happy to accommodate my request, and so far, I have yet to receive any criticism or judgment from my coworkers.
But that means it takes me longer to finish everything at the end of my shift. Because even after my verbal handover to whoever is going on after me, I have to sit down and run all my dictated reports through the software that copies it to text, then I have another software read it back to me so I can try and catch any errors.
For once, I’m not the only one leaving late. Steve Larabee and I often have shifts together, and I guess you could say we’re friends. Tonight, he was unlucky enough to get a rookie taking over his patrol, which made his handover take twice as long. We push open the door to the parking lot together, and I suck in my breath at the freezing air that awaits us.
“Holy fuck, it’s cold.”
I stuff my hands under my armpits as we hurry out of the police station after finally finishing everything.
