Page 19 of The Bitterroot Inn (Jamison Valley 5)
I had a hard time believing he couldn’t reheat frozen vegetables, but if that’s what he wanted, then I’d make him peas. “Okay. Good night, Hunter.”
“Good night, Maisy.”
I crossed the parking lot with a smile on my face, not because I’d had a nice dinner with friends or because I had an upcoming date with Warren Adams, but because I needed to start a new grocery list.
A list with Frozen peas x 10 at the top.
“I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay.” I smiled at the midforties couple checking out of the inn.
“We just love your inn and this little town,” the woman said. “We’re already planning to come back next year.”
“Wonderful! I’d love to have you back, but I’ll warn you, I fill up quickly in the summers. So as soon as your travel dates are finalized, give me a call so I can block a room for you.”
“Thank you.” The man nodded. “We’ll call you next week.”
As I handed them their receipt, the lobby door opened and Hunter stepped inside. He held the door open for my departing guests, smiling as they brushed by, then closed the door behind them.
I took a deep breath and pushed it out slowly when he wasn’t looking, willing myself to act normally. Be cool. Just be yourself.
It had been four days since the knee-to-the-balls incident and I hadn’t spoken to Hunter. By the time I’d shuffled Coby out the door each morning, Hunter’s expensive white truck had already been gone to—where I assumed—was work. In the evenings, he wouldn’t return until well after Coby’s bedtime. Spying from my loft like a ridiculous teenage girl, I had been living for the moments when I’d catch a glimpse of him walking from his vehicle to room eight.
But now he was here, at six thirty on a Wednesday evening, holding two empty Tupperware containers.
“Hey.” He waved the plastic boxes in the air.
That sexy voice was flustering me already. Maisy. Be. Cool. I took another breath and smiled. “Hi.”
“I saw you in here and wanted to drop these off and say thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I know you only asked for peas the other night, but the mom in me didn’t feel right leaving you dinner without properly representing all of the food groups.”
He chuckled and stepped closer. “I appreciate it.”
Two nights ago, I had made a chicken and rice casserole for dinner, then set some leftovers aside with Hunter’s peas. I had abandoned my previous plan to have my housekeeper attend to his room and instead gave it my personal attention. After I’d cleaned yesterday morning, I’d left behind some leftovers in his fridge.
“Your food was great.” Hunter set the containers on the lobby counter. “I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in longer than I can remember. It hit the spot.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you enjoyed it. If you’re ever in search of a meal, my door is always open and I always have plenty of food. I’m not very good at making meals for one. All of my recipes come from my mom and she cooks for my dad and brothers, three of the biggest humans on the planet. So, um, you’re welcome anytime.”
Out came the words before I could really think them through and I immediately started to panic. Was a dinner invitation too weird? I had just assaulted the man, then used my key to leave a casserole in his room. Now I was asking him into my home? Did that sound desperate?
Dope!
I tensed, waiting for him to sprint out the door.
He surprised me by smiling and leaning closer. “I’d really like that. Thanks.”
As he spoke, my eyes drifted to his soft lips and I got lost in their movement. Their color was a pale blend of peach and pink, the bottom one fuller than the top. They looked like the perfect lips for a hot, wet kiss. A rush of heat pooled between my legs and I yanked my eyes away from Hunter’s mouth when I realized I’d been staring.
His eyes weren’t waiting for mine as I’d expected. They were locked on my mouth, doing some lip inspection of their own.
Did he want to kiss me too? At the thought, my tongue darted out automatically and wet my bottom lip. Hunter’s eyes flared and snapped to mine. He held my gaze for a moment, then another, before finally clearing his throat and leaning back.
Grateful that he’d broken the tension, I sucked in some heavy air and searched for a safe topic of conversation. One that had nothing to do with his lips. Or kissing. Or me still wondering if he slept naked.
“That’s a nice camera.” Slung across his broad chest was a nylon strap carrying an expensive Canon camera.
“Thanks.” He patted the lens. “I got it a couple of weeks ago and haven’t had a chance to use it yet. I was going to head up into the mountains tonight and see if I could get a couple good shots of the sunset.”
