One Wild Weekend with Hunter Read online

  I couldn’t agree more, but it’s too early for deep and meaningful conversation.

  She sighs and looks out the door she left open then scratches her head. “You’ve already been a huge help. At this rate, I may actually be able to salvage some of the weekend.”

  I nod and swallow more of my coffee down. “You have plans?”

  Her eyebrows rise as she shakes her head. “Just work. Nothing that can’t wait.”

  She doesn’t offer any more information, so I follow her outside to finish the bag of donuts and my coffee.

  I take a lungful of crisp mountain air and smile as I find her doing the same. Only she’s lifting her chin; eyes closed, full lips slightly open.

  I allow myself a second to appreciate her sculpted cheekbones before my inner primate sends my eyeballs appreciating the way her jeans fit her ass and hips.

  She stretches her arms above her head and yawns. All the blood rushes to my skin as my eyes slide to where her breasts are straining against her t-shirt.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  This is not the time or the place to even be thinking about a woman as fine as Natalie.

  I pull myself together before she finds me ogling her like a schoolboy, and head back down to the stream.

  The sooner I finish up here, the sooner I can move on and stop thinking about her.

  I carry on hauling buckets up to the cabin while she scrubs on her hands and knees, not complaining once about cleaning the toilet, about clearing the drain and not once filling the silence with meaningless chatter.

  That and the fact that I’ve only seen her check her phone once since I’ve been here makes it even harder to ignore my growing attraction.

  When we stop for a break, and she looks so pleased with what I’ve done for her, it makes me start thinking about other things I can do for her.

  Most of those things involve taking her down to the hot springs and washing all the grime off her body.

  It’s too tempting. She’s too tempting.

  I figure I’ve just about reached my capacity for her goodwill, so while she’s getting us some water from her truck, I start to pack up, ready to leave.

  I’m zipping up my pack when she strolls through the door with a bottle of water in each of her hands. “I should be going.”

  Her face falls, posture sags, and her lips part in a silent ‘O’ like she’s disappointed I’m leaving.

  She recovers quickly and hands me the water. “Of course. Thank you so much for everything you’ve done.”

  Her brow puckers. “Um, can I pay you? I mean, I feel like I should pay you.”

  I shake my head. “Not needed.”

  I can see her formulating a protest, so I haul my backpack over my shoulder. “See you around.”

  She swallows, the faintest of smiles on her face. “Oh, okay. Sure. Thanks again.”

  I shift so I can step around her, but she seems glued to the floor. Her lip catches her teeth. “Sorry, would you mind, if it’s not too much trouble, I need to check on the roof. I think it’s safer if you hold the ladder.”

  I cock my head. “I already fixed the leak on the roof.”

  Her jaw drops, and her cheeks turn crimson. “But how did you know what needed to be done?”

  I have no answer. I can’t say I noticed the problem a couple weeks ago when I was in the area, so I just stare at her perfect lips.

  Her eyes lock on to mine, and her breathing seems to be increasing. “Didn’t you have to go?”

  I rub my neck and try for a casual nod. “Yeah.”

  She pulls a face at me but finally shifts so I can leave. I start to walk away, wondering if I really do need to go when I hear her leave the cabin behind me.

  I’m at her truck when I notice the clouds are starting to roll in over the mountains. If she does end up sleeping here tonight, and the cabin’s clean enough that she can now, she’ll stay dry enough.

  The track entrance leading up the mountain is two feet away when I hear her half yelp, half scream. Adrenaline rushes through me as I pivot and run back to the cabin.

  I don’t know her well enough to know whether she screams for lame reasons, but when I reach the cabin, out of breath and find her rocking back and forth holding her ankle, I’m pretty sure she’s legit.

  I unclip my pack and toss it to one side and crouch down. Her eyes are watering, and she has red swelling and a cut on her cheek. “What happened?”

  She looks about ready to burst into tears when she gestures to the ladder. “I slipped.”

  “Why did you need the ladder? I told you I fixed the leak.”

  Her bottom lip starts wobbling as she looks at her ankle, her shoulders are shaking. “I know. I was just carrying the ladder around to the shed.”

  I’m still confused as to how she managed to hurt herself carrying a ladder, but she’s getting pale, and rain is starting to fall.

  I grip her chin gently and examine the cut on her cheek. “How did you do this?”

  She looks decidedly green when she swallows. “I think the ladder smacked my face. I’m such a klutz.”

  I shake my head and look her over. “You think you can stand?”

  She nods and looks testy I’d even ask such a thing. “I’ll be fine. Just give me a hand up.”

  I do as she says, but when she whimpers as she places weight on her foot, I grab her under the legs and swing her up into my arms.

  She’s not a lightweight, but her weight isn’t what is making it hard to breathe as I carry her into the cabin. It’s the way she’s lacing her fingers around my neck and pressing her body against mine.

  I haven’t talked to woman in too long to remember, let alone have one snuggled against me.

  Natalie doesn’t say a word as I carry her through the cabin and into the bedroom I slept in. I lay her on the bed as gently as I can. “I need to get my pack before the weather gets worse. You have a first aid kit in your car?”

  She nods and shifts so her back is against the wall. “It’s in the backseat. Can you drive? I mean, would you mind driving me back to the valley?”

  I freeze, trying to think of how to answer what seems like a perfectly reasonable request. “I’ll get the kit first.”

  She doesn’t look convinced but doesn’t say anything as I back out of the room. The rain has started to fall even harder, so I jog to her truck and find the kit where she said it would be.

  I close the door to the rain and try to think of a good reason to explain why I can’t drive her down the track.

  She looks even worse when I get back; it’s obvious she’s been crying. She’s managed to take her boot off, and even in the failing light, I can see the bruising already appearing.

  I open the cupboard in the room and search for pillows and blankets. Everything smells musty, so I shake out the faded bedding and stack the pillows beside her foot.

  Natalie flinches as I lift her foot so I can place the pillows underneath. Neither of us is talking, and normally I’d think that was good, but she’s shivering, and her lips are too pale. “You need something for the pain.”

  She nods, but her voice is shaking so much she’s dangerously close to teeth chattering. “I, I think, it’s, it’s, a sprain.”

  I’m not so sure, but I’m not in a position to argue, I dig around in the first aid kit, but don’t find any pain meds.

  I grab my flashlight again and leave her to do a quick check to see if anything of use has been left inside the cabin cupboards.

  I’m relieved to find candles, matches, tinned food, and an incredibly dusty bottle of whiskey, which is the closest thing to pain relief I can find.

  Worst come to worst, we’ll be dry, have light and enough food to last until she can drive again.

  I take the bottle back with me and sit alongside her. “For the pain,” I say as I hand it to her.

  She takes the bottle with shaking hands and takes a large swig, wincing as she eyes me like she’s expecting me to say something.

  She doesn’t t
alk, just takes a few more swigs, shuddering as she swallows. I rest my head against the wall and listen to the rain falling harder outside.

  Natalie sounds sleepy when she exhales slowly. “Thank you.”

  I tilt my head so I can see her. “What for?”

  She turns her head and looks right at me. “For being nice.”

  My laugh comes out brittle. Nice? There is little about me that is nice. “Sure.”

  The light from outside is fading, so I flick on my flashlight and leave it propped up on the nightstand so it lights up one corner of the room.

  “I should call my father. I need to tell him how helpful you’ve been.”

  My heart jolts about. “Maybe he can come get you?”

  She sighs heavily and eases herself up. She’s stopped shaking so I guess the whiskey is doing its thing. “My father is too sick to drive. That’s why I’m up here cleaning. We’re selling the cabin at the end of the month.”

  Natalie leaves the whiskey bottle on the nightstand and leans forwards so she can pull the first aid kit closer. “I should be putting ice on this. But it can wait till I get to the hotel. Could you give me a hand wrapping it?”

  I move without thinking and grab the crepe bandage and push up her jean leg. She watches me carefully as I unwind it but doesn’t flinch as I slowly wrap her ankle and foot.

  I retake my place beside her, trying to remember the last time I was in bed with a beautiful woman. “How’s the pain?”

  Her voice carries a slight waver, but she seems better. “Bearable. Should we try to get to the truck?”

  I grasp my moment while I have the chance. “The rain is getting heavier. There’s a possibility the track to the valley will wash out. We could wait it out. I can carry on working inside.”

  She looks so shocked that I almost laugh. “You’d do that? For me?”

  It doesn’t take much thought for me to answer, and for once, I’m being truthful. “Yeah. I’d do that for you.”

  Chapter 3.

  Natalie

  Saturday 5.17pm

  Hunter gets off the bed and saunters out of the room. The pain is less now but my foot is throbbing hot under the bandage he used.

  I pull out my phone and stare at the screen that thanks to my clumsiness, now has a tiny dent in it.

  I should probably call someone and tell them I’m up here. But the only person who’d even care can’t come to get me anyway.

  I sink back against the wall and stare at the door waiting for Hunter to come back. It’s worse than embarrassing that I fell over, let alone had to have him carry me.

  I can’t hear him over the rain. He could be anywhere, doing anything. He could be stealing my purse and taking my truck for all I’d know.

  It’s with that thought that I move, groaning, and get off the bed, grabbing the whiskey as an afterthought.

  I don’t want to risk placing any weight on my foot, so I find my balance and hop to the doorway. I don’t see him immediately, but I do see he’s been busy lighting the candles and oil lanterns my father keeps up here.

  It’s still sparsely decorated, but in this light, with all the flaws hidden, the cabin looks almost homey again.

  I slowly hop until I see him crouching over the fireplace. He twists and looks at me with a frown. “You’re supposed to be keeping that elevated.”

  I try for a smile. “What are you doing?”

  He stands and points to the hearth that is now stacked with pinecones. “The chimney is clear. I’m going to light a fire. That okay?”

  I nod weakly and hop across the room to one of the chairs and place the whiskey on the table. “Good idea. I wanted to test it out before I left anyway.”

  He doesn’t reply, and by now I’m not expecting him to. The flames catch, and the pinecones start to crackle pleasantly. The entire scenario is pleasant. Even with my ankle throbbing, I like his company.

  I check my watch and am a little surprised to see it’s even later than I thought. He keeps his eyes on the flames as he pokes the wood. “I think the weather might be setting in.”

  My breath starts to come in a little uneven. “You think we’ll be stuck here?”

  He shrugs like it’s not a big deal to him. Like he has all the time in the world. “Unless it doesn’t let up, your truck should get through fine.”

  My shoulders sag a little. What is wrong with me? Do I want to get stuck up here? “Oh, that’s good,” I mumble.

  He peers up at the ceiling just above the sink he cleaned. “Guess we’ll see whether I did a half decent job fixing the roof.”

  I follow his gaze to where water stains are evident even in the flickering candlelight.

  I take another drink of the disgusting whiskey, and despite the warmth spreading through me, my stomach grumbles noisily reminding me of how late it’s gotten.

  I can’t exactly fix him dinner, but I do have an emergency snack kit in my truck. “Um, are you hungry? I have a bunch of things in the backseat.”

  His lips tug into a half smile, but he just walks across the room and opens the door to the rain outside.

  With nothing else to do but wait I pull my cell out of my pocket and check for any messages. There are a couple from my editor, one from my sister apologizing again and saying she’s tied up all weekend, but nothing from my dad.

  I put my phone on the scuffed table and try not to start thinking about all the possible reasons why he hasn’t returned my phone call.

  My uninjured foot starts tapping on the floor as I consider whether to phone my sister to see if she can swing by his place to check on him.

  Instead of bothering her at work, I call my father again, chewing my lip as the phone switches to message the way it’s been doing since yesterday morning.

  Hunter opens the door, and my brain turns to mush. He’s soaked through, t-shirt clinging to his body. I have to remind myself to breathe as he stalks across the room with the bags of food I have.

  He dumps them on the table beside me and runs a hand through his hair. A drip runs down his nose, and he swipes it away. “You were right then? It’s getting worse?” I ask.

  He starts looking in the bags before answering. “It’s too dark to see the track, but the ground is turning to mud.”

  I shift my weight so I can place my wrapped ankle over my other foot. He pulls out a packet of cookies and shakes his head. “This is not real food.”

  He doesn’t bother taking everything out, just grabs his pack and shuffles everything around until he’s pulling out a tiny camping stove, and an assortment of freeze-dried foods.

  I squint at him. “Do you always carry all that with you?”

  He shrugs and places the stove on the bench and starts tearing open silver packets with his teeth.

  I keep my eyes on him as he pours bottled water into the pan and stirs it with a knife he pulls from his pocket.

  He takes a seat at the table with me and gestures to the bottle. “You mind if I have a drink?”

  I shrug. “Go ahead. It’s revolting.”

  He takes a large swallow without wincing and nods appreciatively. “You don’t drink whiskey, then who does this belong to?”

  “My father likes whiskey. Or at least, he used to.”

  Hunter rolls his shoulders back and places the bottle back on the table. “The stew will take a while. I need to get changed.”

  He pushes back from the table and starts tugging off his shirt before I can contemplate what that means.

  Heat blazes over my body as he strips off his t-shirt to reveal a muscled torso and arms.

  He has several tattoos including one of a red-haired woman with large breasts riding a dragon.

  I know I’m staring too long, but I can’t seem to tear my gaze away from his incredible body.

  My fingers reach for the bottle in the hopes I can distract myself from how gorgeous he looks standing there half naked.

  I barely notice as the whiskey burns my throat. I’m too busy looking at him and wondering what
on earth is happening to me.

  I’ve never had such a visceral reaction to a man I barely know before. I’ve heard of it, and I’ve been attracted to men before. But I’ve never met a man like Hunter. There’s something lurking under the calm exterior. Something dangerous that makes him even more alluring.

  He catches me looking but doesn’t seem concerned by my obvious inspection of him. “I got it in college.”

  My entire body is getting warm as I struggle to interpret what he’s saying. “Huh?”

  He gives me a crooked smile and gestures to the woman on his chest. “The one you’re looking at. I got her in college.”

  I take another swallow of whiskey. “I see. Um, she’s beautiful.”

  Something flickers over his face as he steps closer and takes the bottle from my hand.

  His fingers brush against my skin, sending shivers running up my arm. His eyes lock on to mine, and my heart starts to jump around in my chest when he pointedly replies. “Yes, she is.”

  I swallow hard as he puts the bottle back on the table and leans down to pull another shirt out of his pack.

  I try not to let my disappointment show when he pulls it over his body and takes a seat opposite me again. “You really should have that leg elevated if you have any hope of driving tomorrow.”

  I manage a weak nod, head still spinning with the alcohol, and the thoughts currently competing for dominion. “Um, I’ll go back to the bedroom.”

  He looks at the fire. “Why don’t I bring the mattress out here?”

  I’m not entirely sure that’s such a great idea with the inappropriate thoughts running through my head, but I can’t think of a reason not to be comfortable and warm.

  My voice comes out as a croak. “Okay. Thank you.”

  He gets up without a word and leaves me sitting alone with nothing but my raging heartrate.

  The fire is getting low, and I don’t want to appear completely helpless, so I brace myself on the table and carefully place a little weight down.

  I wait for the pain, but it’s already subsiding, which I’m sure is due in part to the whiskey and in part to Hunter.

  As I place a few more pieces of wood on the fire, I hear him grunt as he hefts the double mattress into the room. Despite my best efforts, my interest in him only grows as he rearranges the furniture.