Manaconda(50)

“Oh, they did. They love to talk.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway. Um, this was really great of you. I’m still small time, but this is the one charity I make sure to give to for sure.”

Hunter’s gaze drifted to me before bouncing back to Michelle. “ Any little bit helps.”

Michelle chattered on with him and I wanted to crawl under the table and disappear. When I tried to move away, Michelle grasped my wrist like a damn lifeline.

Hunter was sweet with her—never made her feel like she was boring him. In fact, he coerced her into telling him more stories about Lucy’s antics.

I was pretty much praying for death.

And if she squealed, “so cute!” one more time I was going to put her in the puppy room and leave her there.

A statuesque blonde broke Michelle’s concentration. She slipped her arm through Hunter’s. “There you are. I was beginning to think you got lost.”

Hunter’s gaze crashed into mine. “Michelle, Kennedy.” He stumbled over my name momentarily before going with my formal name. Funny how that could be a complete arrow to the chest.

“This is Corey Thorne.”

Of course it was. She needed about as much introduction as Hunter did these days. Corey played a queen on one of the epic historical shows on HBO.

She was elegant and beyond beautiful. Suddenly I felt very frumpy in my red and black peek-a-boo lace dress.

“Pleased to meet you.”

Even her voice was elegant. Don’t be nice. I don’t want you to be nice.

She patted his hand. “I had to come and support Hunter. If it wasn’t for him, I’d never have my girl, Biscuit.”

“That’s Hunter, generous to a fault,” I said.

His gray eyes flashed. “What can I say, I’m a giver.” His gaze tripped over the black mini skirt and corset I wore under the lace. But it was just a half a second, then it as gone. The afterburn left my skin flayed open.

Everywhere he’d touched, everywhere he’d tasted—was too sensitive, too exposed.

I muttered an excuse about someone across the room that I needed to talk to. All in all, I thought I did well. I held my head up, blindly crossing the room until I reached the bathrooms.

I hoped my smile looked normal and not like I was a botox patient gone wrong. When I reached the powder room I collapsed onto the bench seat and wished for a baby flask for my purse.

It shouldn’t have been that hard to see him. We’d had one night together and a disaster of a day after. I knew I wasn’t exactly one-night-stand material but this was ridiculous.

The worst part was the look on his face at the police station. I couldn’t get it out of my head. And tonight he was just blank. Except for that one second.

I smoothed my hair as best I could and splashed cool water on my wrists then sent a request for a pickup. I just needed to hold on long enough to get my through my goodbyes and wait for another car.

I headed into the ball room and waited my turn with the president of Love & Paws by the chocolate display. A trio of pit bulls were brought out to show what good therapy dogs they could be.

Hunter was crouched down with one, his face split wide into a grin as the brindle pit pushed him back onto his butt. “Man down!” He laughed and my abused ovaries went through another cycle of destruction.

The other two saw their chance to attack. The fawn colored one rolled into the other like a bowling ball and the clipped the dessert table.

Which I, of course, was standing next to.

Because this was my life.

Hunter tried to grab the brindle but she shot under the table, her nails scrabbling over the marble floor, mule-kicking the back support. Glasses tinkled across the floor, the plastic bottoms scattering like monster truck tires at a derby. The table slid forward and I became the center piece for a chocolate fountain.

There was bedlam, laughter, and a few screams as the dogs careened through the crowd.

A pair of strong arms lifted me off the floor. Chocolate dripped from my ears, down my neck, and over the front of my dress. It slithered through the holes in the lace until I was slick as a pig at a fair.

“I got ya.” Hunter jostled me tighter to his chest.

“Oh my God, are you all right?” Corey asked.

Of course she was perfect. Her ivory column of a dress spotless. I was going to be finding chocolate with Q-tips for a week. I pushed at Hunter’s chest. “I—your suit. Oh, God.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He pushed a lock of dripping hair out of my face. “Anything broken?”

“Just my love of chocolate and my pride.”

Corey laughed. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you.”

“Oh, I would be.” My voice was way too high.