Page 97 of Mistaken Intention

He shrugs. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not going to. I’ve got more important things on my mind.”

Like getting to Josie and asking her what I did to make her leave.

I’ve showered and put on a shirt, rather than the t-shirt I had on before. Hunter seemed to think appearances mattered, although personally, I think standing in front of Josie, asking her the pressing question of ‘why’, is more important.

It hasn’t taken me long, and less than fifteen minutes after leaving him in the kitchen of the main house, I open the cottage door to find Hunter standing there, waiting.

“I thought I’d walk with you to the car,” he says, falling into step beside me.

“In case I couldn’t remember the way?”

He smiles, but doesn’t reply, and we walk together to the front of the house, where he’s parked a black Range Rover. This may be my car, but there’s nothing familiar about it, even when I open the passenger door and climb in.

“Are you getting anything?” Hunter asks as I look around the interior.

“No.”

“Well, I’m not sure you ever sat in that seat, so I guess that’s not surprising.”

He has a point, but I don’t want to waste time trying out the driver’s position, just to see if it brings back any memories.

It seems to take forever to get down the long driveway, but when we finally reach the end, the gates open automatically, and I remember him saying something about sensors, and a button on the wall, which I guess is how Josie got out of here thismorning. Having checked for traffic, he turns right onto a fairly quiet highway.

“How long will it take to get to Boston?” I ask him.

“At this time of day, with this little traffic, probably around an hour and fifteen minutes.”

I nod my head, wishing it could be faster. My life feels disjointed enough as it is without losing Josie.

Losing Josie?

That can’t happen. I can’t even think about letting it happen.

I need to think about something else.

Anything…

I turn in my seat, so I’m facing Hunter. “You know, earlier in your kitchen, when I asked what kind of guy you think I am? Can you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“What am I like, or what was I like before… with women?”

“You know I’m not allowed to answer questions like that.”

“Okay, but I’m in love with Josie. Was that something I did all the time?”

He sucks in a breath, and I notice him gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “No, you didn’t.”

I don’t understand his reaction, but I’m relieved by his answer. Josie feels special. She feels different. It’s good to know I got that right, at least.

“Would I have told you if I did? Were we the kind of brothers who talked about things like that?”

“Yes,” he says, smiling now. “Didn’t you notice just then, how easy it was to tell me you’re in love with her?”

“Yeah… I guess.” I hadn’t noticed, but now he’s mentioned it, I didn’t even hesitate before telling him how I feel.

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