Page 32 of Hunter

“Lou, I’ve been wanting to kiss these beautiful lips ever since we held hands in the back of my father’s car all those years ago. I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship or frighten you away. I guess I was scared too.”

“And now?” I whisper, hoping he’s going to actually give in to what we both feel for one another.

“And now, I want to give you one of your birthday presents…if you want it?” I nod slowly before he closes the gap and presses his lips against mine so softly, I feel as though I am melting inside. I reach my arms around his neck, and he presses harder before trying to move his tongue inside my mouth. I have no idea what I’m doing so just do whatever feels natural, but he seems to be an expert -so warm, so soft, so passionate.

“Wait!” I gasp, pulling back a little to frown at him. “Who have you been kissing, Antonio Ortega?!”

He laughs, flashing his teeth at me, then pulls at my back so I am up against his chest again.

“I might have been practicing on my hand for the last few months; might also have asked my brother how to kiss properly. I kind of knew this was my deadline.”

“Oh, ok, but from now on, you can practice all your kissing on me, deal?”

We grin at one another before kissing for nearly twenty minutes. We only stop when our mouths become puffy, even though we still feel like we can’t get enough of each other. He then takes hold of my hand and walks me home.

It was perfect, even better than how I’d always imagined it.

Chapter 14

Louisa

It’s unlike me to be nervous, not since the worst thing that I thought could happen, already happened two years ago. My thoughts are usually kept neutral, and my brain always remains in thinking mode rather than emotional mode. However, sitting in the busy bar, waiting for Daniel, aka my boss, to arrive for our date is just a tad nerve-racking. Phoenix is purposefully hanging around like a bad smell and Jake is taking great pleasure in watching the whole brother and sister standoff show that is taking place before him.

Some of the usual girls who I like to dance with have been trying to get me up to join them, but seeing as I’m making an effort and wearing a dress and a pair of heels that feel like restraints tightening all around my feet, I decline. I haven’t gone to all this effort just to wind up all gross and sweaty when he eventually arrives.

A shot glass sliding my way breaks me from my nervous huffing and puffing. I look up to see Jake smirking suggestively at me. I eventually smile, nod, then down it with a grimace taking over my face. I haven’t done shots since I was eighteen, when Tony used to take me out dancing in all the clubs downtown. It brings back a bitter taste of cheap booze and bad memories, solidifying my promise to never drink them again.

“Louisa?” a familiar and sultry voice says from behind me.

I look up, still looking disgusted over the shot of tequila, and end up coughing over the sight of Daniel wearing a casual black shirt and low-slung jeans. He looks all kinds of hot, and so…so grown up. The last man I was with was Tony, a guy who I had known since childhood. We were both so immature and stupidly behaved most of the time. Sex and intimacy were about discovering new experiences, so it didn’t matter if things went wrong, or we did the odd embarrassing thing with one another. It was ok to ask him if what I was doing felt good because we were both pretty clueless. But Daniel, my boss, is an adult, and I’m betting he’s an experienced one at that.

He laughs over my rather ungraceful reaction to him, so I end up giggling too. Once we’ve gotten over the shock of seeing each other like this, I slide off my stool to take him out back. I’m gifted with several pairs of eyes staring at me with curiosity over being with a guy who isn’t dressed in leathers and covered in tattoos. We don’t get many Daniel types in here, and I think people had given up on me ever dating anyone again. In fact, I think they were more accepting of seeing me with my cheating ex-boyfriend the other night.

When he pulls out a bunch of pink roses and a bottle of red wine, my brother’s eyes practically bulge out of his head. Jake sniggers from the other end of the bar, so I glare at him with a silent message to either stop or risk my wrath. He very sensibly takes heed and wanders off in the other direction.

“Sorry, am I totally embarrassing you?” Daniel asks, obviously having noticed everyone watching us with shock written across their faces.

“No, it’s more to do with my brother than you,” I explain, but quickly pull him out back to avoid the awkward atmosphere. “Thank you for the flowers and the wine by the way.”

“It’s the least I can do for a home-cooked meal,” he says as I show him into the living room.

He takes in the surroundings of our little home out back and smiles. It’s a complete contrast to the bar, but only because Dad challenged me to make it more ‘homely and feminine’. It’s relatively small but houses a couple of white couches and some oak furniture to brighten it up and give off the illusion of it being bigger than it actually is. There are photographs of us on the wall, including Mom and Dad. The small kitchen is white with little pine handles that would be befitting of an old English cottage, or so the interior magazines told me. I had pretty much chosen a page and gone with it.

“I bet you were expecting black, metal, and dirty?” I giggle while he begins studying the photos.

“No, not at all,” he rushes out, “but it certainly looks more like you and less like your brother.”

“Phoenix is a good guy underneath all the hostility.” As much as he pisses me off sometimes, I find myself smiling over the thought of my big brother. “He’s had to be my mother, father, and brother, all in one go. I fear it’s taken its toll on him.”

“Or maybe he doesn’t want to let go?” Daniel suggests. “Empty nest syndrome and all that.”

“Possibly.”

Phoenix is much more complex than people give him credit for. Fortunately for Daniel, he will never understand the sort of life my brother or I have had to lead. The likes of Phoenix, Javier, and Tony must be a total enigma to someone like Daniel.

I gesture to the table and serve up dinner, which has taken pretty much the whole afternoon to prepare and cook. It was my dad’s favorite; I used to make it at least once a month and he’d always savor it like it was the first time he had ever tasted it. Even when he no longer wanted food, he made a song and dance over eating it, just for me. Toward the end, I heard him throwing it up almost straight after he had forced it down; I had felt so guilty, but I never mentioned it. He would be too proud to admit he wasn’t able to handle such rich food anymore, which would have only upset us both.

“This looks incredible Louisa,” Daniel gushes as he pours us both a glass of wine. I smile and blush over his compliment. “Where did you learn how to cook?”

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