HUNTER
T he food at Fast Eddy’s was better than Hunter had expected from the aged facade.
The company was even better.
He knew that he wasn’t doing a great job of keeping his end of the conversation up, still wrestling between his instinct that Trixie was the woman he’d been waiting for and his long-time certainty that he was better off without any kind of relationship to weigh him down.
Trixie did the lion’s share of the exchange, and supplied him with all the answers he could want.
He loved watching her eat. She was so expressive, and she didn’t care who knew that she was enjoying her food.
When their hands met at the ketchup, she startled back and blushed, adorably uncertain before she picked the conversation again.
She talked about growing up in the wilderness of Alaska, colloquially known as the Bush, and what a big change it was to go to the lower forty-eight. She wasn’t wearing a ring, and she didn’t mention a boyfriend .
“You’ve got a partner?” Hunter finally asked, because he wasn’t in the habit of beating around the bush himself.
“A business partner.” Did Hunter imagine the emphasis on business ? “Jay. He’s out hunting right now.”
There was definitely something underlying her voice, and Hunter asked more harshly than he meant, “You’ve got trouble with him?”
“I’m a little miffed that he thought it was fine to take two whole weeks off when we were in a pinch like this,” Trixie admitted.
“He doesn’t need the meat, and it’s pretty inconvenient timing for the business.
He’s been offering to buy me out, but I’m afraid he’d run it into the ground the moment I left, and his offers are honestly insulting.
” She looked mortified. “Don’t tell him I said that.
He’s a great contractor. His work is fantastic when he does it, and he’s got a lot of amazing contacts.
He’s the one who got us this job in the first place.
He just doesn’t like putting in that final push that gets things done. You know?”
Hunter did know. “A starter, not a finisher,” he agreed.
“He really likes the shiny lure of a new project, and the honeymoon period when it’s just getting off the ground. Lots of people are like that.”
“You’re not,” Hunter guessed, wondering if this was their honeymoon period.
“Oh, no,” Trixie said with a laugh and a cute little blush. “I’m not as good at getting things going. I’m the long-haul gal. I don’t do the courtship and contracts. I unclog the toilets and pick up the dirty socks. I… think I’m starting to mix metaphors, sorry.”
He could imagine a life with her, even if he couldn’t imagine the pursuit.
He wanted to skip straight to having breakfast across a table from her every morning, evenings unwinding together, comfortable routine and familiarity.
He wanted to wake up with her in his bed already, not have to hunt her down and put her there.
Boring, his brothers called him, but he didn’t want the glory and the chase. He wasn’t invested in the win, he wanted the cooldown after the finish line.
Now he was the one mixing metaphors, and he’d left Trixie hanging in the conversation again.
She wiped her mouth with a napkin and leaned back on the bench with a groan.
“You’re going to have to roll me back to the job site and prop me up at the chop saw,” she joked.
“I always mean to bring back leftovers, but the food is so good.”
“It was great,” Hunter agreed, and when the waitress brought their bill, he automatically reached for it.
“No, no,” Trixie said, and she put her hand over his. “I insist. It’s a business write-off.”
Hunter didn’t move his hand, not because of a machismo desire to pay the bill, but because she was touching him, and he didn’t want to lose that moment of casual contact. Trixie stared at him and he stared back.
“I’m not going to give up,” she said quietly.
Hunter already loved that about her. He turned his hand under hers so that he could clasp it in his own and pulled it up to his mouth for a formal kiss, savoring the feel of her skin against his lips.
He’d been dying to touch her all morning, and now he didn’t want to let her go until he absolutely had to. “I’m not, either.”
He watched her face the whole time, cataloging her responses. Surprise, joy, suspicion, delight, confusion, and finally something like caution. Hunter finally let go of her and she took her hand back, completely forgetting about the bill between them.
She glanced around, as if afraid that someone might have witnessed the moment, but Hunter looked nowhere else, not caring if anyone saw. This was between him and his mate. He was going to make her his, and now that he’d made up his mind, nothing would stop him.