Wild Thing (23 page)

Scott returned with a case of settings and loose diamonds, a jeweler’s loupe, and a smile that peeked out from beneath his overgrown mustache.

Hunter pointed through the glass. “What can you tell me about this ring?”

“This one?” Scott said as he unlocked the cabinet and bent to pluck the ring from within. “Ah, this is a beauty. I bought this during my last trip to Portugal.” He laid it on the black velvet cushion. “It is circa 1930—an Art Deco engagement ring. The red diamond is the rarest of all the colored diamonds. It’s received a grade of
fancy
red
, which is rarer still.”

Hunter nodded. Okay, it was going to cost him a mint.

Scott examined it through his jeweler’s loupe. “The round, red diamond is 3.88 carats. It is a cushion-modified brilliant cut, surrounded by another 3.65 carats of white diamonds in a platinum setting.”

When Hunter heard the price, he called Gramps. “I need a loan. I’ll get the money back to you soon. I just need to move a few investments around.”

“How much do you need, son?”

When Hunter told Gramps the price, Gramps barked out a laugh. “Let me speak to Scott, boy. We’ll work out the details. You just go and get your girl.”

Scott took the phone and cringed. “Joe, no, my cost—” He listened for a while. “Fifteen percent over cost. That’s the lowest I can go.”

Scott squirmed. Hunter felt sorry for the poor guy. More than a few times, Hunter had been on the wrong side of negotiations with Joe Walsh—the wrong side being any side Gramps wasn’t on—and he knew just how difficult it was. “Okay, seven percent over cost. I’ll show you my invoice, and you pay cash.” Scott smiled a gap-toothed smile. “You better come before closing. I’ll be here until 8:00 p.m. I’ll see you later.”

Scott handed the phone back to Hunter. Gramps laughed. “Take the ring. I’ll take care of the money. We’ll talk later.”

“Thanks, Gramps. How much did I just spend?”

“A lot less than you were willing to, boy. Still, that must be one hell of a ring. It will all be worth it though if it ends up on Toni’s finger and puts a smile on that girl’s face. I have a feeling she’s never had much to smile about before you.”

“I think so too. I’m gonna do my best to make her happy or die trying.”

“You’d better, or you’ll be answering to me. Tell Scott I’m leaving Brooklyn now.”

Hunter took the black velvet box Scott handed him and signed the receipt. No wonder Gramps was one of the richest people in America—he’d saved Hunter more than five grand.

Hunter took the ring, stuck it in his pants pocket, and walked up 6th Avenue, past Rockefeller Center and Radio City Music Hall. He headed east on 54th, past Park Avenue and the limos that lined the streets.

Damn. This area was well-moneyed. He cut in front of a mail truck and jaywalked, stopping to pick up flowers—red roses to match Toni’s ring, lilies for Lilly to thank her for her help.

He passed the liquor store and considered buying a little Dutch courage but decided against it. It wouldn’t help to be intoxicated while groveling, begging, and doing anything he’d have to do to get Toni back.

Hunter walked around feeling the effects of no sleep, too much drinking last night, and a hollowness he’d carried with him since he’d entered into the cabin yesterday. He’d been running on straight adrenaline for the better part of twenty-four hours, and he was flagging. He stopped for a quad shot of caffeine. The coffee burned his stomach; he hadn’t eaten either and wondered if Toni felt half as shitty as he did.

He slowed approaching her building. God, the thought that he might fail and have to walk away without Toni had Hunter praying for divine intervention. Lilly said to go to the entrance next to the pizza place. She buzzed him in, and he took the elevator to the eleventh floor.

A tiny woman somewhere between the age of sixty and eighty, with dark brown hair and full makeup, waited for him by the elevator. She stood ramrod straight and looked as though she weighed all of eighty pounds. She wore a skirt, stockings, sensible shoes, and a sweater that looked more appropriate for December than August. “Lilly?”

Her lips curved into a smile. “My, my. So you’re the man who stole my Toni’s heart.”

He shook her bony hand. “Hunter Kincaid, ma’am. I’m pleased to meet you. I picked up flowers for Toni and got you these as a thank you for helping me.”

Lilly took the flowers and sighed. “Clarissa will be so happy to hear you have such fine manners.” She wove her arm through his and led him down a hall. “She told me to let you in. Toni’s not home yet. I think she went to work this morning, though I don’t know how. She didn’t get home until 3:35 a.m. and then sat out on the terrace for hours. Poor thing. She looked so despondent.”

“Did you talk to her?”

Lilly shook her head. “I’m not supposed to spy. When Toni found out I was checking up on her for Clarissa, she threatened to move away if I didn’t stop. This is the first time I’ve interfered in several years.”

“Ma’am, if you’d feel more comfortable, I’ll wait for Toni in the lobby or outside.”

“Nonsense.” Lilly unlocked a door with a key that hung off a skull-and-crossbones keychain. “Make yourself at home. I have no idea what Toni’s up to, but she’ll be home eventually.” Lilly left the key on the hall table.

Hunter paced the living room and watched the door until he couldn’t stand being inside any longer. He moved to the terrace and paced out there, not that there was enough space. His stomach growled, so he went to the world’s smallest galley kitchen and opened the refrigerator. It was empty save for some spoiled milk and condiments. “She wasn’t kidding when she said she didn’t cook.” He called Lilly. “Is there a market close by that delivers?”

“Yes, it’s just around the corner. Let me give you their number.”

“Thanks. I just thought I’d get some food. Do you need anything?”

“No, thanks. You just worry about you and Toni. Here it is.”

Hunter smiled as he wrote the number. “Okay, thanks again.”

“Sure thing—and Hunter?”

“Yes?”

“You know Toni doesn’t cook, don’t you?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got everything under control. Bye.”

Hunter had never bought groceries over the phone before. He figured he’d better keep it simple. He looked for spices, but other than salt and pepper, he found none. There were cans of soup, and that was about it. He didn’t even see any olive oil, and if he had, he probably wouldn’t use it. There’d be no telling how long it could have been there.

There were plenty of pots and pans—some nice stuff too. He put together a list for linguine and clam sauce. If they didn’t have fresh clams, he could always use canned. It didn’t look as nice, but tasted almost as good, and right now, beggars couldn’t be choosers. He looked for white wine or vermouth. Either would do. Bingo, Toni had both. He took a bottle of Chablis and put it in the empty refrigerator before calling the market. He had one hell of a list, buying a few staples while he was at it. Just in case he’d find himself in the position to cook her breakfast in the morning, he checked her coffee stash, turned his nose up at her selection, and added a couple of pounds of decent coffee.

He’d just ended the call when he heard the key going into the first lock. Damn, he probably should have thought this out a little more. The last thing he wanted to do was scare the shit out of her—the first time he’d done that, she’d slugged him.

Hunter leaned against the wall in the kitchen and folded his arms over his chest to keep from reaching for her.

The door swung open. Toni braced her foot on it as she pulled out the key, balancing a box containing what looked like a half-dead plant and clothes. She was drawn, paler than usual, and looked just plain beat down. He wanted to kick himself.

Hunter let out a breath when she set the box on the table. It was then she noticed the extra key; she picked it up, spun around, and saw him.

She didn’t look happy. Son of a bitch. She looked as if she wanted to slug him again.

He smiled, hoping she’d go easy on him. “Hi honey, I’m home.”

Chapter 19

Toni couldn’t believe her eyes. “Hunter?”

He tried to pull off that sexy-as-hell grin of his, but it fell short. The smile didn’t meet his eyes. He looked horrible and wonderful at the same time. He wore a pair of well-loved jeans that fit him better than any 501s had the right to, with a light green button-down shirt, and sleeves rolled up to show off his tan forearms. His watch was the only adornment he wore except for the tassels on his loafers. Loafers? Really? She couldn’t believe she had actually slept with a guy who owned a pair of loafers. Which just proved what she knew—there was absolutely no future for them, no matter how great he looked leaning in the doorway of her kitchen.

“How did you find me?”

Hunter’s artificial smile faltered. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. Well good. Neither had she. He took a step toward her, and she backed into the door, which did nothing but piss her off. This was her home.

“How did you get in here? What did you do, bribe the super to let you in? I’ll have his ass fired.”

Hunter deflated. That was the only word to describe it. “What’s it matter? Did you think you could leave without so much as a good-bye, and that would be it? Did you think if James shut me down, I’d just give up? That I wouldn’t look for you? I got to New York before you did, babe. I planned to wait for your plane, but I had Gramps with me. Ever since his bypass surgery, he hasn’t had the stamina he once had. He needed to get some sleep.”

“You brought your grandfather to New York?” Toni pushed herself off the door and headed away from Hunter.

“No, actually, he brought me. We took one of his corporate jets. I called him and asked for help.”

Hunter trailed behind her, keeping his distance. Maybe he was afraid she’d slug him again. Of course, that didn’t stop him from following her. Toni slid open the door to the terrace and took a deep breath of humid air. It didn’t help. She turned and glared. “You asked for help? Sure, okay. So tell me, have you taken any blows to the head lately? Are you feeling all right?”

He dropped down on the leather couch, as if his legs would no longer hold him. “No, actually, I feel like someone ripped my heart out and stomped all over it in size seven Doc Martens.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I wasn’t.” He leaned forward. “Toni, you said you would wait for me. You said we’d talk.”

“Yeah, well things change. Get over it.”

“That’s not going to happen. I came to apologize.”

“For what? Tricking me into falling in love with you? Cheating on me with my boss? Or working out a deal for the camp behind my back? God, I’m such a fool. So go ahead Hunter, absolve your conscience, say you’re sorry, and get out of my life.” She turned and looked out over the city, tears blurring her vision. She didn’t bother wiping them away.

“I didn’t trick you.” He’d moved closer. She felt his breath on her ear just before his arms wrapped around her middle, pulling her against his chest. “I just had help. I needed it. I never used that book against you, babe. Maybe at first I was messing with you, but I never meant to hurt you. I read it and took the advice offered. Call it research.”

“Oh, it was research all right.” She turned in his arms and pushed against his chest—hard. He didn’t move. “I loved your notes on the chapter about baggage and insecurities. Fascinating stuff. If I were Bianca, you could have sold it to the tabloids.”

“I didn’t know about the deal Bianca had cooked up with KidSports until just before the morning meeting. I didn’t cheat on you. I love you.”

Toni rolled her eyes and gave him another shove. “Oh right, you love me so much that you were in Bianca’s cabin examining her tonsils. Let go of me.” She pushed against him again. He released her and took a step back, looking as if he’d been slapped.

“She kissed me. I didn’t kiss her back, and I certainly didn’t examine any part of her body. The only body I want to examine is yours.”

“Oh, and I believe that. Come on, Bianca’s a supermodel. And I saw you, Hunter. I saw you with her.”

“I know what you saw, but I didn’t instigate it. I want nothing to do with Bianca. No matter what you think, I love you. The idea of not having you by my side for the rest of my life just leaves me hollow and aching.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it. Go—just go.”

The intercom buzzed.

Toni went to the door and pressed the intercom. “What?”

“Delivery for Toni Russo.”

“Fine. Come on up.” She pressed the button and turned to Hunter. “I didn’t order anything.”

“I did. You don’t have any food in the house, and I’m hungry.”

“Well, isn’t that just great? You’re leaving, and I’m gonna be stuck with the bill, which sucks since I just quit my job.”

Hunter seemingly grew another layer of guilt. His shoulders sagged even more than they had before under the weight of it. “You quit?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. It wasn’t because of you and Bianca. It was because of me.”

“Oh.”

Someone knocked on the door, and he shook his head. “That must be the delivery. Don’t worry. I’ve already paid for it.”

“That makes two of us.”

He ignored her comment and answered the door. “I hope you like linguine and clam sauce, because that’s what I’m making.”

“You can put it in a to-go box and be on your way.”

Hunter opened the door.

“What part of ‘get out’ don’t you understand?”

“Nothing. I’m just ignoring it.”

The delivery boy looked at Toni, shifting nervously from foot to foot, and handed Hunter a clipboard to sign.

“Keep sparring, dear.”

“You can ignore me all you want. You’re still leaving.”

“Not until I’ve eaten, I’m not. Aren’t you hungry?”

“No, you’ve made me lose any appetite—for all eternity.”

Hunter tipped the boy and signed for the groceries. He took the box, kicked the door closed, and carried the food to the kitchen with Toni close behind.

“You are not staying long enough to eat.”

Hunter rattled a pan out of the cabinet and filled it with water. “Here, make yourself useful. Where’s the strainer?”

“How should I know? You know I don’t cook.”

“Yet. You’re about to get a lesson.”

“How did we get from ‘get out’ to Cooking 101?”

“Everyone has to start somewhere, and pasta’s easy.” He handed her a mesh bag filled with little neck clams. “Wash these.” Taking the pot he’d filled with water, he dumped a ton of salt in it and put it on to boil.

“How do you wash clams?”

“Just fill the sink with cold water and swish them around. Like you would when you wash your delicates.”

“Like you know how to wash delicates. Hell, like I know how to wash delicates. I just throw them in the machine with everything else and hope for the best.”

“I had to do all the laundry for the whole family, including my mom and sister. Damn straight I know how to wash delicates.” Hunter shot her a cocky grin. “Woolite is my friend. I’ll show you how later.”

“Great, just great. There’s not going to be a later.” She swished the clams around the sink.

He grabbed a cutting board she’d never seen, dug through the box, and came up with garlic and spices.

Toni picked up the scent of roses. Looking over, she saw a bouquet on the bar. “What are those over there?”

“Oh, I brought you flowers. You should put them in water. Do you have a vase?”

“I don’t know.”

“Check over the refrigerator. Everyone I know keeps vases in the cabinet over the fridge.”

She looked up and realized for the first time that there was a cabinet there. Who knew? She opened it. There were two vases. Leave it to Hunter to know where everything was in her kitchen. When she reached for one, he came from behind and plucked it out of the cabinet.

“Here you go.” He handed it to her and went back to chopping green stuff.

She filled the vase and wondered how much water to put in. No one had ever given her flowers before. She took the bouquet and couldn’t help but bury her nose in them for a second—hoping Hunter didn’t notice. She shouldn’t be feeling so pleased. It annoyed her that she did. It didn’t help that when she looked up, she found Hunter grinning like a fool. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

He turned back to his chopping, and she tried her best not to notice how good he looked cooking in her kitchen. “What’s that?”

“Basil. The parsley is next.” He made little piles on the cutting board of each herb before he ripped open a head of garlic. When he slammed his hand down on the knife, she jumped.

“What are you trying to do? Kill it?”

“This is how you get the skins off, and it releases the flavor. I hope you like a lot of garlic.”

“Sure, why not? It’s not as if I’m going to kiss you.”

“We’ll see.”

Toni took the roses out of the wrapper and stuck them in the vase.

“No, no. You have to cut the stems at an angle. They’ll last longer that way.”

“What makes you the rose expert? What do you do, buy them for all the women you’ve cheated on?”

“I’ve never cheated on anyone, not even you. My mother likes roses. I buy them for her birthday. Karma too.”

Well, wasn’t that just the berries.

Hunter dug through a lower cabinet as she ogled his butt. He sure had a nice one.

He grabbed a pot, poured olive oil into it, and raised his eyebrows when the doorbell rang. “Expecting company?”

“No, but then I wasn’t expecting you either. It looks like this is the day for unwanted guests.”

Toni left him in the kitchen doing whatever it was that he was doing and went to the door. She looked through the peephole, blinked, and took a second look. “Hunter, did you call my mother?”

“How’d you know?”

“Because she’s standing outside my door.”

Hunter wiped his hands on a towel she didn’t know she owned and threw it over his shoulder. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”

“No.”

She plopped herself down on the couch and ignored the incessant doorbell.

“Fine. I’ll get it.”

“Don’t you dare.” Too late. Hunter opened the door.

“Hunter?”

“Clarissa?”

A knowing smile passed between them. Toni knew she’d been hoodwinked.

“Mom, what are you doing here?”

“I just thought I’d come and see my only child. After I spoke to Hunter this morning, I was worried.”

“More like curious.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Well, now you’ve seen me. You can leave.”

Her mother ignored her, batting her fake lashes at Hunter. “Something sure smells good. I’m famished. Do you know what they feed you on planes these days? Peanuts, nothing but peanuts. Hunter, do you have any wine open?”

“No, but I have some chilling.”

Toni turned to him. “You do?”

“I found it in the liquor cabinet. I needed to make sure you had Chablis or vermouth for the sauce. You had both.”

“Lucky me.”

Clarissa went to the bar. “Great. I’ll get the wine glasses. I didn’t know my daughter knew how to cook.”

Toni got off the couch. “I don’t.”

“She doesn’t.” Hunter opened the wine. “I’m teaching her.”

Clarissa laughed. “This should be interesting.”

“Hey, I’m not stupid. I washed the clams.”

As usual, her mother looked like she just stepped out of Neiman Marcus in her perfectly tailored linen suit, which didn’t even show a wrinkle. What did she do? Fly standing up? No, wait. Did brooms have seat belts?

The doorbell rang as Hunter poured the wine. He looked at Toni, and she shrugged. “Everyone I know is already here.”

Clarissa breezed to the door and opened it with her usual flourish. “Well, hello there.”

“Howdy, ma’am.”

Hunter heard his grandfather’s voice. “Son of a bitch.”

Toni stomped into the kitchen. “If anyone else comes through that door, they’re going to have to bring their own chair. Tell me. Did you invite him too?”

“No.” He grimaced. “Gramps, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m just makin’ sure you don’t screw things up, boy.”

Gramps walked in and gave Toni a hug. “There’s my girl. How are you, darlin’? You sure looked better when you were in Idaho. I think the clean air agreed with you.”

Toni didn’t look too happy to have everyone there, but maybe it wasn’t a bad thing. She hadn’t asked him to leave since Clarissa had arrived. That was something.

Gramps set two bottles of champagne on the counter. “I brought fortification. You better put these in the icebox. Do we have anything to celebrate yet?”

Toni looked from Hunter to Gramps. “What does he mean by that?”

Hunter smashed some more garlic, picturing his grandfather’s head. Leave it to the old man to jump the gun.

“I know you’re avoiding my question.” Toni hissed by his side.

“I’m not avoiding it. I just don’t know the answer yet.”

She rolled her eyes. “When you figure it out, let me know.”

Hunter turned and pulled her into his arms. “Believe me, babe. You’ll be the first to know.” He gave her a quick kiss on the lips, released her, and tossed the garlic into the saucepan.

“Toni, do me a favor and get the baguettes out for garlic bread. Gramps, make yourself at home while Toni and I finish up dinner.” He leered at his grandfather and mumbled. “You usually do anyway.”

Toni held the bread like light sabers. “What am I supposed to do with these?”

“Take a bread knife and cut them in half lengthwise.”

“What’s a bread knife look like?”

“It’s the long one with a serrated edge.”

“Like that means anything to me. Speak English, please.”

Hunter reached around her and pulled one out of the knife block. “Here. There’s another cutting board in that cabinet next to the stove.”

He glanced into the living room. Gramps and Clarissa had their heads together as if they were conspiring. He wasn’t sure if he should be thankful or nervous. With Gramps, he never knew.

Toni sawed at the bread with a heavy hand. “What else needs to be done so we can get these people out of here?”

Hunter poured the wine and clam juice into the sautéing garlic and tossed the herbs in behind it. The water boiled, so he threw in the pasta and thanked God she hadn’t included him as one of
these
people
. “Set the table. I’ll do the bread. Dinner should be ready in ten minutes.”