Seaside Embrace(10)

Sure you were.

“Romance will usually do it.” Sky leaned her head on Sawyer’s shoulder. “That’s how Sawyer won me over.”

“I think everything Tony does is romantic.” Amy reached for her husband’s hand.

A wisp of her blond hair blew onto Amy’s cheek, and Tony tucked it behind her ear, then leaned over and kissed her. “What was it that you said last night? Seeing me changing Hannah’s diaper was like watching mommy porn?”

The girls laughed and Caden, Bella’s husband, said, “Bella tells me that listening to me sing to Summer is better than listening to Adam Levine or Luke Bryan.”

“Bella?” Jenna said. “You lie to your man like that?”

“Hey!” Bella leaned in to Caden’s side. “Neither of those guys could look as hot as my hubby does with Summer. They couldn’t hold a candle to him anyway. You’ve never seen my man wearing nothing but his holster and police boots.”

“And she never will,” Pete said as he pulled Jenna onto his lap.

Jana glanced at Hunter, who looked hot as sin no matter what he wore, and even more handsome holding a baby. It had been almost a year since they’d first hooked up, and in the months since Sawyer and Sky came together, she and Hunter had continued hooking up—and arguing like cats and dogs.

Was that why she always snuck away while he was sleeping? To avoid a morning argument? To ensure he knew they’d shared nothing more than a night of fun? She had no idea what the reason was, but she knew it irritated Hunter. Mostly because he claimed that escaping was his modus operandi, and Jana thought that made doing it even sweeter. She loved having the upper hand.

“Tell them the truth, Hunter,” Grayson urged. “He and Clark were looking up how to be romantic.” He laughed, and Jana felt her jaw drop open at his unknowing reveal of Hunter’s truth.

Hunter shrugged and sucked back his drink, like it was no big deal.

Now, as she thought of Hunter searching how to be romantic after she’d thrust the challenge on him, she felt a little bad for always sneaking off.

She shouldn’t keep watching him, but she was unable to look away as the others rattled on about romance and online information. She shouldn’t feel like she wanted to reach out and touch him and tell him that looking up how to be romantic might just be the most romantic thing she’d ever heard in her entire life. But it was, and as her hand touched his arm and the words fell from her lips, she discovered that a moment of silence mingled with a single look could hold a million meanings. Tangled up with surprise and disbelief, she saw gratitude in Hunter’s gaze. Genuine, heartfelt appreciation, and that made her body warm for a whole new reason. She liked that reason a lot. In fact, as a smile spread across her lips, she realized—or maybe accepted—that she liked Hunter a whole lot, too.





Chapter Seven


THE NEXT MORNING Hunter set out for an early run, hoping to shed the tension nesting in his shoulders and outrun the emotions spiraling inside him. He tried to make heads or tails of what he’d felt last night when he was with Jana, but by the time he’d finished his run, he was no less confused.

Running had never done it for him, but he’d hoped this time might be different. If nothing else, at least it woke him up after a lousy night’s sleep.

He went into the shop early. Just the sight of their warehouse and shop brought a modicum of relief. He and Grayson had bought the property a few years earlier at auction. The purchase had also included a building that was right off of Route 6, the main highway through the lower Cape. They’d planned to make that building into a showroom, but they were so busy from the moment they got started that they sold their work as quickly as they could make it. With the help of Pete and their good friend Blue Ryder, both skilled craftsmen, they’d renovated the barn into an office and workshop. They’d replaced the old wooden floors with concrete, built a brick forge, installed proper ventilation systems, and brought in power. The custom shelving and machinery hubs brought a sense of organization to their creative chaos. The showroom idea had gone by the wayside, and the building remained empty.

Hunter didn’t trust himself to work with the forge until he had his mind and body under control. The forge was the hearth used for heating metal. Safety had to come first, and in his line of work, that meant being in total control at all times. He definitely did not feel in control of his emotions. He’d been trying to figure out why Jana wouldn’t admit she wanted him when she so obviously did. It shouldn’t matter one way or the other, but she was sending him mixed signals, and it was pissing him off.

He was still coming up with a theme for the sculpture for the community beautification competition and was trying not to stress as days were passing by without a firm direction. He laid out the pieces he’d fabricated the other day and decided it wasn’t so bad, even if he wasn’t feeling bonded to it yet. Maybe if he worked on it for one more day, it’d speak to him. He hadn’t been blocked creatively in so long that on top of everything else, it annoyed the hell out of him.

He decided to fabricate curls of wrought iron that could be used to accentuate just about any design. The scroll bender machine allowed him to focus on the task at hand without the danger of burning himself or anything else around him. He laid out the pieces of iron he intended to curl and set out the sections, the parts of the machine he’d drop into place to allow for a larger curl around the first. Once the parts were laid out he began curling the iron. Whether he was heating metal, hammering it into place, installing rivets, twisting, curling, or designing on paper made no difference to Hunter. It all made his adrenaline rush. He loved taking an idea and bringing it to life. Life was a palpable element in all of Hunter’s designs.

Every piece of art he created, whether architectural or for show, got the same attention to detail. He preferred to bring textures and naturalistic elements into all of his creations. His favorites were elements that symbolized growth and stability, or fluidity and change.

“I’m here,” Clark called to him when he arrived.

“Gray’s going to be late,” Hunter hollered back, remembering his brother mentioning it last night.

He knew Clark had planned to meet one of their buddies for dinner last night, and when Hunter had arrived home, Clark was on the phone in the guest bedroom. He assumed—hoped—he’d been talking to Nina.

Clark brought a to-go cup of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee back to Hunter.

“Thanks, man.”

“You were gone when I got up this morning. I thought you’d need it. Have fun at the bonfire?” Clark’s eyes still appeared tired, but if he was tired from talking to his wife all night, maybe that was a good thing.

“Yeah. It’s always good to catch up with everyone. And it was great to see Bea. She’s really cute.” After holding Bea last night, seeing her sweet face, and smelling her baby scent, he’d thought about how innocent babies were. How they relied on the adults around them to love them and keep them safe. As he looked at his friend now, he couldn’t fathom how Clark could leave his son. If Hunter had a child, he couldn’t imagine leaving it while he went to work, much less moving out.

“I heard you on the phone when I got in last night. Things better with Nina?” Hope filled his chest as a smile spread across Clark’s face. And, he noticed, Clark had shaved today. That had to be a good sign. Shit, he’d never noticed stuff like that before. Jana must really be getting to him.

“Nah. Robert and I hit the Beachcomber last night. Met this hot blonde and—”

Hunter ground his teeth together. “Tell me you didn’t mess with her.”

“No, I didn’t mess with her. We talked, man. That’s it.” Clark shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, his shit-eating grin still in place, which further angered Hunter.

Everything pissed him off lately, but after hanging out with his friends last night, feeling the love of each couple, seeing the evidence of their love in the babies’ faces, he was even more upset over Clark’s separation.

“At one o’clock in the morning?” It came out as an accusation, and Hunter didn’t try to soften the message.

Clark’s smile went flat. His brows drew into an angry slash. “Yeah, what’s it to you? We talked. We didn’t fool around. I never touched her. We talked about shit.”

“What kind of shit?” Hunter crossed his arms, unwilling to ease up.

“I don’t know. Billy. Marriage. Life.” Clark paced, and Hunter knew he’d gotten to him.

“With some chick you met at a bar? You shared the details of your marriage with her? Clark—”

“What?” The venom in his voice rivaled the disgust moving through Hunter.

Hunter knew he was on the verge of saying things he would regret. He took a step back, trying to regain control.

“Don’t you think you should be putting your time into your relationship with Nina? The mother of your child?” As he said the words, he pictured Clark out at a bar, sidling up to a random pretty woman, while Nina sat at home with Billy, probably crying her eyes out over their separation.

“Christ, Hunt,” Clark said. “I thought you were on my side in this.”