Page 123 of The Bitterroot Inn (Jamison Valley 5)
Her smile drooped as she faltered, but she recovered. “Yes. Renee. Nice to meet you.”
She took my hand and I squeezed hers just a bit too hard. “Are you new in town?”
“I, uh, just moved here last month,” she stammered, trying to get out of my vise grip.
“Welcome to Prescott,” I said with false cheer. “These football games are a great way to meet people.” I looked to Hunter and slid my hand in the back pocket of his jeans. “We’d better get going if we’re going to get our drinks before the game.”
“Sure, baby.” Hunter’s chest started shaking with silent laughter as he nodded good-bye to Renee. “Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, um, you too.” With beet-red cheeks, she disappeared back to her seat.
“Let’s go.” I marched toward the exit.
Hunter’s arm came around my shoulders and he led me down the stairs and toward the concession stand. “Jealous much, Blondie?”
A flare of annoyance streaked through my body. Of course I’d been jealous. What did he expect? Why wasn’t he more annoyed at that lady’s behavior?
“She was rude and practically mauling you,” I snapped and stepped away from his side. “But if that doesn’t bother you, then fine. Maybe women throwing themselves at you isn’t a big deal. I mean, you’re single or whatever, so I guess you can do whoever—”
“What was that?” His hand grabbed my elbow and spun me in front of him, stopping my rambling rant. “Say that again. Single? You think I’m single?”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
His jaw set in an angry lock. “Do you think you’re single?”
“I, um . . . no.”
“Then why and the fuck would you think I’m single?”
I threw my hand toward the stands. “You didn’t get too mad about Renee’s hand on your ass and we’re not together—”
“Stop talking. Right now.” He grasped my hand to drag me behind him as he turned in the other direction and stormed away from the concessions.
My legs couldn’t keep up with his long strides so I had to jog to keep up. “Hunter—”
“Stop talking, Maisy.”
I shut up for a second, but as he got closer to the stands and the exit gate, I couldn’t stay quiet. “Where are we going? We can’t leave. What about Coby?”
He didn’t answer. He just kept pulling me along until we reached the gate, but instead of going through and out to the gravel parking lot, he followed the small section of chain-link fence toward the dark area underneath the stands. I thought he would stop there, in the shadow of the tall bleachers, but he kept going, stepping over a metal bar and walking underneath the towering metal seats.
“Hunter,” I hissed and held myself back. “We can’t be under here.”
He just tugged my hand harder so I’d follow.
Above us, people were laughing and talking. A couple of spilled drink cups littered the ground. The benches above squeaked as people shifted to stand for the national anthem.
“Hunter, I think—”
He shushed me and kept pulling, all the way to the far back corner, which was nearly pitch black. On this side, the stands were held up by a cinder-block wall, not the open metal posts like where we had entered. When we reached the cement, Hunter pulled me in front of him, positioning my back against the cold blocks.
I opened my mouth but he spoke first.
“You are not single. Neither am I.” Then his mouth slammed down on mine, ending any chance of a discussion.
While the speakers blared and the stadium above us filled with The Star-Spangled Banner, Hunter filled my mouth. He slanted his head and his tongue dove in deep, exploring with hunger. Exploring like it had been years, not just a month since his lips had been on mine.
I stood stunned for a second, not having expected a kiss, but the shock didn’t last long. My desire for Hunter’s mouth burned it away.
