I chuckle, stopping right in front of her. Close enough to see the pulse jumping in her throat. I nod slowly as she looks up at me.
"Did you know this was my ranch?" I ask her out of pure curiosity. Has she been avoiding me? Has she been walking around this town for days, knowing exactly where I am and staying the hell away?
I've actually been going into town a lot more since our night in the truck. Doing school drop-offs and pick-ups. Not that I don't like to pick up Waytt, it's just that I'm normally too busy and he has his nanny, Matilda. But I've been making the time to look for her.
I could have done more digging and found her, but I wanted her to come to me.
"No. I didn't," she tells me, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Thank you for making sure my boy was okay," I say. And I mean it. Every word. More than she knows.
She nods. "He's really sweet, Hunter."
Jesus.
I suck in a breath. The way she says my name in that accent, that sharp, beautiful New York bite wrapping around the words. Like she has no idea what it does to me. What she does to me.
"He's a good kid."
She gives me a small smile, and I see the exact second she decides to run. Her body shifts. Her eyes dart to the left. And as she tries to walk around me, my arm moves before my brain gives it permission.
I grab her waist. Pull her in. And then I push her up against the wall.
A little gasp rushes out of her, and the sound goes straight through me like it just lit a fuse.
I tip her chin up with my finger, tilting her face to mine, those green eyes staring up at me, wide and burning for me, just like a firefly.
"Are you avoiding me, city girl?" I rasp.
She shakes her head.
I arch a brow. "Lies. You ain't just passing through here, are you?"
"No. I'm living here. Well. Sort of. I'm in the middle of trying to secure another lease."
Living here. The words hit me square in the chest and explode. Because it clicks together, she lied to me because she’s scared of what this is between us, too.
I gently brush a stray strand of red hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. My fingers linger. Trace the line of her jaw. Like I've got every right to touch her. Like she's already mine and her mouth just hasn't caught up yet.
"Living here," I repeat. More to myself than to her.
Her breathing hitches, and I feel it against my chest, the shallow, shaky rise of it. Her hands are flat against the wall behind her, fingers splayed, like she doesn't trust herself to touch me.
Good. Because if she puts her hands on me right now, I'll take her in my son's playroom, and I am not that man.
Not today.
"You should have told me," I murmur, my thumb tracing the curve of her bottom lip. "I would have come lookin’ for you sooner."
It was always part of my plan. Once I’d had my meeting with the Greeks and hosted this party. My sights were firmly set on Lola.
"Hunter—"
"I meant what I said, Lola. I’ll chase you."
Her breath catches. Something in her eyes shifts. The same thing I've been carrying around for days. She feels it too. That night wasn't nothing. It wasn't just a stranger in a bar. It wasn't just skin on skin and a goodbye in the dark.
It was the start of something neither of us asked for.