Page 10 of Hunter

Nope.

I looked into my handbag. Maybe I should give the nail file a shot? Car floors aren’t that thick, right?

Or maybe I could get a one-way ticket from the next gas station to another state, or country, or outer space. Yep, outer space was a great idea. Of course, there was the whole no-oxygen thing, but oxygen was overrated.

“Calm down,” Hunter growled from next to me.

“I would if I could,” I hissed back, not in the mood to deal with the brooding bastard.

“You could always tell me the reason you ran.”

“And you could tell me the size of your penis.”

His eyebrows touched his hairline as his gaze flickered to me then back to the road, then back again.

Oh, yeah. Inappropriate questions always shut—

“Big,” he answered, like they were discussing the weather.

I stared open-mouthed at him, rationality taking a walk as I asked, “How big?” Now that we had stepped into this territory, my curiosity couldn’t handle it. He was at least six-foot-five with huge hands. You know what they say about big hands …

“I haven’t exactly measured it, but I get a lot of … comments.” His raised eyebrows and completely seriousness, husky tone made me very, very curious.

“Lots of women tell you that?” I asked, unable to stop myself.

“Every day.”

“Except yesterday. Because you were stalking me.”

He only smiled.

My mouth dropped open even further. The slut! I mean, yeah, if a man like that came up to a very lonely me in a bar with a body like that, I would certainly reconsider my vow of celibacy. However, with his attitude, cockiness, man-handling, and refusing to speak to me until all of twenty minutes ago, it had a price. The real question was: would I be willing to pay it?

Maybe after a drink or two.

Or five.

I wouldn’t listen to alcohol, though, because it led to lots of bad decisions.

“I …” I suddenly noticed the scenery change. Pine trees were exchanged for cement buildings, lampposts, and stores.

I turned to look out the windows and found myself surrounded. Fellpeak was all around me, and I had the horrible feeling it would never let me go again.

* * *

I’m going to hyperventilate. Or puke. Or both.

It hadn’t escaped my notice that Hunter had started a conversation to try to calm me down, and ever since I stopped talking, he had tried to restart it. I couldn’t reply, though, for fear it would be the cereal bar I had eaten at the last gas station.

Instead, my fingers bore down on the edges of his seat, not caring if I made holes in it. After all, it was his fault for kidnapping me.

It would have been better if the town had changed in the years I had been gone. But not even the yolk blotches on Mr. Jefferson’s house from when my friends had thrown eggs at it on Halloween had disappeared. Well, I didn’t do it. Even though it was amusing to see him all riled up, he was a nice man … to his cat, not other people, which was fine by me.

I watched the small market setting up under the cover of dawn. At least travelling in the early morning gave me some coverage. I hated the idea of being spotted by someone who would recognize me. Gossip spread fast in towns like these, and if someone saw me in Hunter’s truck, it wouldn’t take long to get to everyone I had ever known.

Despite the fact I hadn’t seen my friends or family in all the years I had been gone, I wasn’t keen to meet up with them. Therefore, I was overjoyed when Hunter continued past the center of town and then some, until there were only a few houses on the outskirts.

He pulled onto a small gravel road, parking in front of a house that screamed modern, yet was warm at the same time. It had dark-tinted glass windows with wood panels. The shape of the house was miss-matched with three different levels of roofing and an oak-stained chimney rising out of the lower roof. The roofing platforms came out over the edges of the building, providing shelter over the introverted doorway where marble stone spheres lined the steps up to the house.

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