Hunter's Heart (19 page)

Darla huffed, slid off the sofa and ran off to join a group whirling glow sticks in the twilight.

“Sorry about that,” Barbara said as she dropped to the other sofa. “Don’t know how she got to be thirty in five years.”

Celia said nothing.

“Tired?”

“Overwhelmed. The noise and constant motion. Not used to being around this many people.”

“You can call it what it is—
chaos
.”

She wasn’t about to agree with that and piss someone off. Two of the dogs ambled over and plopped at their feet.

“The pies you brought disappeared fast,” Barbara said after a long silence. “Did you make them?”

“No. I don’t cook that well. I bought them from Peterson’s, on Riberia.”

“I know the place. They have the best donuts.”

“They do.” She smiled politely, keeping her gaze in the direction Hunter went, watching for his return.

“As for the not cooking well, I suppose that won’t last long.”

She gave Barbara a questioning look.

“I mean if you two are serious and with Hunter’s mother being Violeta, I’m sure she’ll help you with that.”

“Yes,” she said in a warm voice to hide the ice in her veins.

“Of all her children, I think Hunter is the favorite. I’m sure you already know he’s a great cook.”

“Yes.”
And
great at keeping things from her. Like having six siblings and a world-famous chef for a mother. A dull pounding began in the back of her head.

Terrible grunts and howls, clearly the sounds of a fight, came from the men. Celia recognized a painful cry coming from Hunter. “They’re fighting.”

“No. Just acting like fools.”

“Are they drunk?”

“No. They never have more than a couple of beers when the kids are around,” Barbara said. “Relax. They’re giving him a hard time about you.”

She stood and gave Barbara a hard look. “They’re hurting him because of me? What did I do?” She took a step in the direction of the hollering.

“Nothing. It’s the ‘man down’ initiation.”

Hunter yowled again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Celia, sit down,” Sienna said firmly as she joined them. “They’re giving him trash. This is something they all get when it comes to a woman.”

She glared at her. “I’m not comprehending.”

Sienna sat, took Celia’s hand and pulled her down.

“None of us do. This crap goes on all the time.” Di joined them. “You just have to accept it as a part of being with them.”

“I don’t have to accept anything,” she said, bristling at being told what she had to do.

The women exchanged glances.
Let them
.

“I don’t mind it,” Barbara said. “They’re close. So close, they know each other’s moves and thoughts. It keeps them safe when they’re working.” There were nods from the other women. More groans and yelps coming from the shadows.

“You’ll get used to it.” Sienna patted her hand. “Really you will.”

No, she wasn’t going to get used to it.

Sienna scooted around, sitting almost like Darla had. “The night before we were married, Pete’s
brothers
took him out, tied him down, stripped and spray painted everything below the neck with glow in the dark paint. Then they left him in the middle of nowhere. They called the state police to rescue him. He was late to our wedding.”

“I don’t think that’s funny.” She didn’t bother to keep the irritation out of her voice. And it didn’t have a damn thing to do with her and Hunter.

Sienna’s eyebrows climbed her forehead. “Oh, believe me, I didn’t either. Even now, if I think about it too long I can get mad. What I’m saying is, it’s who they are. To be a part of this life you have to accept it.”

Celia jerked at the sound of an explosion and went to her feet at the sound of another. Then the sky lit up. She caught her breath.

Fireworks.
Only fireworks. A moment later Hunter stumbled from the shadows. His T-shirt was ripped at the neck, stretched beyond salvage other places. Leaves and grass poked from his hair and beard. A line of blood went from a raw knee to his ankle.

“You okay?” he asked, breathlessly.

She shook her head and he halted a few feet away. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? It’s you that doesn’t look okay.”

He looked down at his wrecked shirt. “I’m good.”

Bambi, who looked like he’d been hit by a truck, hobbled to Hunter’s side and threw an arm over his shoulder. The two of them stood in drifting fireworks smoke, happy and grinning like overgrown boys. She looked around. The women. The children. The men. She had put each of them in danger.

Should her father find her, he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt or kill anyone she knew or associated with to get what he wanted. She looked at Hunter. He disappeared in the haze like she would disappear from his life.
This was done.

She put a smile on her face and kept it there until they were inside the truck.

Chapter 12

How could things go so wrong so fast?

“Did you have a good time?” he asked as they left the driveway.

“Yes.” She might have said yes but her tone said something else. What the fuck was going on? She’d turned to ice as soon as the truck doors closed. He said nothing for a good ten minutes, hoping she’d speak up. She didn’t. “You get along okay with the gals?”

“Yes.”

He glanced over and caught her shrug.
What the fuck?
“What did you think about the kids?”

“There were a lot.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

I don’t have anything to compare them with.”

“You mean Navy kids?”

“I mean kids. The only ones I’ve been around were in vastly different circumstances. I’ve never been around infants. Today was the first time I’d held one.”

Stopped for a light he swiveled in the seat to see she was serious. “I didn’t realize.”

“I know.” She stared straight ahead. “The light is green.”

“Yeah.” He gave the truck gas. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“When were you going to tell me about your family?”

Shit.
He should have known the women would talk, tell her. They had no reason to think she didn’t know. “It never seemed important.” The moment the words left him, he knew it was the wrong thing to say.

She moved around in the seat so she could look directly at him. “You didn’t think it was important to tell me that Violeta, a world-famous chef, is your mother? That you have three brothers and three sisters. One brother is a priest. The family has a TV production company and they’re filthy rich. You never thought I would be interested in hearing any of that?”

“It never came up in conversation.”

“Bull shit. Because you wouldn’t allow it to.” She stared at him as if she’d never seen him. “Every time I asked you anything about your family you brushed it aside, changed the subject. I thought it was because, like me, you had family problems. I suppose they don’t even know about me. Why would they? I’m just the Croatian refugee you’re fucking who has
nothing
,
nobody
and couldn’t possibly be good enough for them. Have I missed anything?”

“Celia, that isn’t it at all.” He reached for her and she shoved his hand away. He slowed and pulled to the side of the road.

“Don’t you dare stop.” She visibly stiffened.

He did anyway. She fumbled with the seat belt.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m getting out. I told you not to stop.”

“Okay. Okay. But please talk to me. Tell me what’s going on here?” He pulled back into the traffic lane.

“Tell you what, that I’m pissed at myself for being so stupid? My f’ing job is discovering the lies people tell. And you,
you’ve
been lying to me, playing me, since we met.” She was almost yelling.

“I’ve never lied to you.”

“You have, by omission.”

He said nothing. There was nothing he could say to soothe her anger. He was guilty. HHHe’d withheld a lot from her.

“Did you tell them about me?”

“What?” He took his eyes off the road to look her direction.

“Did you tell those people about my father? About the night I freaked out in the storm? Is that why they never left me alone? Why you came running when the fireworks began? I should say stumbling, to see if I was cowering in a corner, embarrassing you. Tell me. Did. You?” The last words were said between clenched teeth.

He stopped right there and slammed the gearshift into park. “No.”
Crap on a stick
. “Celia what happened to get you this upset?”

She glared at him. Lips pressed to a thin line, breathing through her nose, chest heaving with each breath. “I want you to take me home,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Home? To your place. I thought you were staying with me.”

“I want to go to my house.”

“Not until you tell me why you’re this upset.” Her hand went to the door release and he hit the child lock button. “Don’t think about getting out.”

“Nothing happened unless you consider me hearing about you and your family from strangers and their children.” She turned in the seat facing him. “Do you have any idea how I felt when they talked to me like I knew everything? I had to decide to tell them you didn’t think enough of me to share the details of your life, or lie. Lie, grin and nod like I knew everything. Guess which I picked.” She faced forward again. “Was any of this real? I mean besides the sex.”

Holy fucking hell, he was the world’s biggest, fucking, dumb, piece of shit, asshole. “Yes it was real. Every bit of it. I had no idea not telling you about my family was that important. I didn’t want to overwhelm you with my ginormous Italian family when you had none.” Guilt smacked him hard. “Celia I’m sorry.”

“Take me home.”

What a cluster fuck.
Talking now, when she was this upset, was senseless and would only dig the hole he was in deeper. Tomorrow, when she had time to think and calm down, would be better. Invasive light from an oncoming car illuminated the cab and glistened off a tear working its way down her cheek.

“Celia, I am
sorry
.” He put emphasis on the sorry. Nothing from her. He put the truck in gear and drove the rest of the way in painful silence with her rigid and staring at the road. He stopped in front of her house and popped the lock.

She moved to get out then paused, looking at him over her shoulder. “I don’t want you to come in.”

“I’ll call you in the morning and we can—”

“Don’t call,” she interrupted then stepped out. She turned and looked at him for a long moment. He sensed there was some kind of struggle going on inside her. “I don’t want to see you again. Don’t come here. Don’t text. Don’t email, ever again.” She slammed the door then ran. He bolted from the truck and caught up as her door swung open. “Celia.”

She stepped inside and whirled on him. “I mean it, Hunter. You show up and I’ll get a restraining order. I don’t want to see you again.”

The door closed gently. He would have felt better if she’d slammed it. The action was devoid of emotion. Dead cold.

It began to drizzle, then rain but he couldn’t make himself go back to the truck. His first instinct was to let himself in and hold her like he did the night of the storm. Find a way to make up for what he’d done.

She’d said no—and no was
no
.

Instead, he stood there, staring at the door like a fucking idiot, in the grip of command paralysis, totally unable to decide his next move. Praying she’d come back and let him in.

She didn’t. No lights came on. No sounds came from inside. Twenty minutes later and soaked to the skin, he returned to the truck where he sat for an hour going over the details of the day’s events. He’d left her alone too much, that was for sure. Staying beside her all day hadn’t seemed right at the time. It did now. He should have told her about his family. Truth was he wanted to keep her to himself. Didn’t want to share with either one of his families.

He’d liked how things were between them and was sure she had. Spending time in DC with parents, brothers and sisters would have messed with that. One afternoon and evening with his SEAL family had done a job on them. How could things go so wrong so fast?

Finally, he headed home. Less than a mile away he pulled over and considered going back. Stand outside and talk through the door. He folded his arms on top of the wheel then rested his head on them. Five minutes later, he was standing outside his truck taking a field sobriety test.

What else could go wrong?

Chapter 13

You cannot let him be a part of
your life.

Closing the door on Hunter, literally and figuratively had taken all she had. The moment she was inside she crumbled to the floor, leaning against the door, unable to move until well after he left. Knowing it was right to send him away, hadn’t made it easier. She disconnected her brain from her feelings and transitioned into run mode. She’d done it so many times as a child and teen she slipped into it easily. She was taking the emergency exit from this dream of a life with Hunter and going back to her old life, where she belonged. Last week he’d vowed never to let anything happened to her. He said it with such conviction she believed him. Wanted to believe him.