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Shattered King(26)

By:Sherilee Gray


I decided now was as good a time as any to open my mouth, instead of  standing there like an idiot. "Um . . . yeah, he loves pancakes."

Josh turned to me, and Hunter's head came up. He rose to his feet, gaze  sweeping me from head to toe and back. I swear I felt it, felt it like  he'd reached out and ran his hands over me. "You should still be in bed  resting. I can watch Josh."

"I'm fine. Really. And sorry, I thought he'd stay asleep while I showered."

That stare turned intense, stayed locked on me. "You don't have to  apologize. I told you, I look after what's mine." His gaze flicked down  to Josh then back to me. "I meant it."

Shit. It was too damn early in the morning for this. But Josh broke the  moment when he walked over to me, lifting his arms to be picked up for  his morning hug. I leaned over automatically, to lift him into my arms,  and groaned, my bruised body telling me I needed some drugs ASAP.

Josh's face crumpled. "Mama?"

"I'm okay, baby. Mama's okay."

His little hand curled into the side of my yoga pants, hanging on tight.  Goddammit. I ran my hand over his hair and fought back the angry tears  threatening to escape. Ever since I opened up to Hunter, told him what  happened to me, I'd been on the verge of falling apart. I hated it,  hated how helpless and weak it made me feel.

Hunter prowled toward me. Yes, prowled. All long legs and sinewy  strength. His hands went to my shirt, and before I had a chance to open  my mouth, he lifted it high enough to check out my fading bruises. He  knew my body was bruised but he hadn't seen the damage for himself.

He cursed under his breath, fingers whisper soft, brushing over my  abused skin before his gaze lifted to mine. And what I saw, right then,  that Hunter would make Pierce suffer if he caught him. And I was glad of  it. It was sick and twisted, and screamed of double standards. I didn't  want any part of what Hunter did to make his money. Josh would never be  brought up in a world of violence, where breaking the law every day to  make a living was okay. I didn't know exactly what Hunter did, but I'd  seen him in action, more than once when he worked for Pierce. I knew  what he was capable of. And after being held at the agency, the things  Ruby said, I got the feeling, legitimate business or not, things hadn't  changed a whole lot. Still, I'd stand happily by and watch him beat the  shit of that asshole if he ever got the chance.         

     



 

"Couch, babe."

His low, rough voice slid over me, giving me happy shivers. I was powerless against it. So damn weak.

"Josh can help me make breakfast, right, buddy?"

Josh smiled again and let go of my leg. Hunter reached down, swung him  up into his arms, and carried him to the kitchen. My son's hand went to  Hunter's shoulder, flat against his plain black T-shirt. The sight just  about had me crying all over again.

Pull it together.

Hunter came right back with a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen, and put them on the low table in front of me. "Coffee?"

"Thanks." Josh was still in his arms, eyes locked on the man holding  him. I knew my son, which meant I knew he wasn't afraid or worried. This  was confirmed when one of his little fingers inched up the side of  Hunter's neck and started tracing the ink there.

I was speechless, and with the double whammy of heart and belly  flutterings I had going on, I was on the verge of stroking out or  something. Josh had never warmed to someone so quickly. Ever.

Hunter sat him on the bench beside him and I watched the two of them  make pancake batter. Well, Hunter made it while Josh splattered it all  over the place with the spoon he was "stirring" it with. Neither seemed  fazed. I couldn't take my eyes off the pair of them. They both had dark  hair and blue eyes. When they grinned or frowned, I thought they looked  similar, didn't they? Or maybe I was just trying to see something that  wasn't there.

I let my gaze travel over Hunter. Over his inked biceps, straining the  fabric of his T-shirt. My fingers itched to touch, feel how hard they  were, feel them flex under my fingers. I continued my perusal, over his  broad shoulders, down to his lower back, where I knew my name marked his  skin. A shiver worked its way through me. I still remembered when he'd  gotten it. How special, how loved I'd felt. It seemed like a lifetime  ago. It was a lifetime ago.

I dropped my gaze to his lean hips. A chain hung from one of the belt  loops of his jeans, disappearing into the back pocket. It drew the eye  to his perfect ass, the way the faded black denim hugged it to  perfection. His thighs were solid, legs long. He was ruggedly beautiful.  Fiercely masculine.

I wanted him.

Would always want him.

I slammed on the brakes. That was something else I wasn't going to think  about. I was going to live in the moment. For now. At least until it  was safe for me and Josh to move on with our lives, or until Hunter woke  up and realized he'd made a mistake having us here.

Before the reality of possibly of raising the son of his enemy sank in.





CHAPTER TEN


Lulu

We'd spent the day hanging around the apartment. Hunter had given me a  new phone since mine had been broken and he'd entered everyone in the  contacts. Everyone. Even Ruby, the crazy chick from his office.

After I'd played with my new phone and sent Aunt Sara a quick text to  tell her I was okay, I got busy. I did the dishes and tidied up the  apartment as best I could. Not that the apartment was messy, just  neglected. Hunter frowned at me, but left me to it. When I finished, I  took some more ibuprofen, since I obviously pushed things too hard too  fast. This annoyed the hell out of me. Sitting around doing nothing was  not me. I hated it. So, I started looking for something else to do.

It was then that Hunter, in his extremely deep, authoritative voice,  told me to, "Go rest." He said this in a way that brooked no argument. I  still tried. The man did not yield, not at all, and since he could  physically pick me up and make me rest, I decided to pick my battles and  stomped off to bed for an afternoon nap with Josh. I slept for three  hours.

This annoyed me as well. I don't know why I was so irritated by it, but I  was. Unreasonably so. Hunter had a way of running right over the top of  me, and I'd had more than enough of that over the last few years. I  felt like I had no control over my life as it was, so not even knowing  my own body, and when to rest it, pissed me the hell off.

Here, with Hunter, I didn't feel like the woman who'd worked herself  ragged, who'd battled to keep her son and herself safe all on her own. I  felt like someone else. I felt helpless.

I hated feeling that way.

That feeling didn't improve when I walked out and spotted Hunter on the  couch with Josh, who hadn't needed three hours sleep, watching cartoons  together. He twisted to look at me and grinned. "Better?"

I made a sound that came out like pah and stomped-yes, again with the  stomping-to the kitchen to make tea. Which kind of hurt, but I refused  to let it show. To keep my hands busy, so I didn't try to strangle him, I  contemplated what to make for dinner.         

     



 

Sipping my tea, I checked out the fridge. He had pretty much everything I needed to make lasagna and a basic salad.

In no time, the place was filled with the smell of cheese, tomatoes, and garlic bubbling away in the oven.

I felt Hunter move in behind me. Just his nearness started up some  serious flutters in my belly. He reached around me, grabbed my beer, and  took a sip. The action was simple, casual, but it felt extremely  intimate. I had to fight back a shiver of pleasure.

"Smells amazing," he said softly.

"I know how much you like lasagna. It's just a . . . a thank you for looking out for us," I finished lamely.

His hands came to my hips, his lips to my ear. "You don't need to thank  me. You never need to thank me, not for that, not ever." He gave me a  little squeeze. "I love that you cooked for me, but promise you'll take  it easy. You're still recovering after what happened. You don't need to  do for me. I'm a big boy. You worry about you and Josh. I'll do the  rest."

Is that what I was doing? Yes, I'd cleaned and cooked, but I was just  trying to be useful, wasn't I? God, I didn't even know what I was doing.  This whole situation was insane. I was in Hunter's house, living with  him, me and my son. I'd just cooked him a freaking meal, like we were  some old married couple, like the last three years never happened. It  came so naturally, looking after my man, falling back into old habits.  I'd always loved to cook for him.

It wasn't just me, though. He was acting like the past had been wiped  clean as well, like it no longer existed. But I knew it was only a  matter of time before it came back to haunt us. Before it slithered up  behind us, infecting, corroding this little make-believe existence I was  living, before reality set in and it all vanished.

I tried to wriggle away, but he wasn't having any of it. "I'm fine,  besides a few aches and pains. Nothing I can't handle. I was just . . . I  want to do my bit, and we have to eat."