Page 37 of Back in the Saddle

One kiss in the bar when she thought she would never see him again was one thing.

This … whatever this was, was quite another.

She wanted to speak but no words came. Instead, her eyes welled with tears.

Hunter hastily buttoned his shirt back up. ‘I’ll come outside in a moment. Wait there!’ he shouted to whoever was looking for him. Then, he looked at her, eyes full of concern, and tried to put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Caroline, what’s wrong?’ he whispered.

She stepped out of his reach and backed towards the barn door.

‘I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.’ Her voice croaked.

‘It’s fine,’ he tried, but she shook her head violently.

‘No, it isn’t! You don’t understand. I’m … I’m married. I can’t. Oh, God. I’m so sorry.’

She turned on her heel and ran all the way to Anna’s car.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Hunter

Hunter was unable to move. His legs felt as if they were made of lead. He lifted his trembling hand, slowly touching his lower lip.

He’d kissed so many women in the past. Most of the time, kissing was just a prelude to what came next. It rarely meant anything. Hell, if he was being honest with himself, there were only two women in the past who had made him feel the way he felt right now. Weak in his knees, slightly intoxicated. Like he was drinking a dram of very fine whisky.

The first, Chloe Turner, was his first kiss. They had briefly dated one summer when they were teenagers. Understandably, one never forgot their firsts. And the next one was meant to be his last.

The kisses that came after her were all different. None of them particularly bad, but Hunter wouldn’t call them memorable. Women he used to meet, usually at rodeos, wereall the same type: attractive and eager. Wanting to have some fun just as much as he did. After a while, they all started blending into one. He wasn’t proud of it, but he also didn’t see any real harm in holding this view. They never asked him for anything, which was perfect, because he had nothing to give them beyond a good time.

He closed his eyes and dropped his hand.

Now, there was Caroline. And he felt like the ground moved beneath him when she kissed him. That one kiss made him feel more alive than he had in a very, very long time. It’d almost be poetic if only she hadn’t run away.

His heart beat faster at the memory of how her bare skin felt under his fingertips, how he grazed the edge of her lacy bra …

I’m such an asshole, he cursed in his mind. Only then, when the initial shock and dizziness subsided, he remembered her words.

Married.

He wasn’t judgemental and knew that everyone had a story. But he hadn’t expected this. He tried to cast his mind back to their meeting at the bar. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. He’d have noticed. When you start sleeping with women you meet at rodeos, you learn to look for the ring. Hunter once had a guy who looked like a bodybuilder run after him after he had started kissing, with full consent, a woman who’d hit on him in Austin. After that, he’d always made sure to look.

Maybe he was a spineless arsehole, but he didn’t care if she was married.

That startled him, because he should care. It couldn’t have been a great marriage, given she was in Oklahoma all alone and hadn’t mentioned her husband before now. All the flirting, the kissing … Not that Hunter knew that many married women or was an expert in this area, but he didn’t think that was the way they behaved.

There must be more to this. There must be a reason, something she isn’t telling you.

Yes, that must have been it. He was certain there was an explanation.

Satisfied with straightening his tangled thoughts, he squared his shoulders and found that he was finally able to lift his feet and started walking.

When Hunter entered his parents’ house, his mother was crouching over the kitchen counter, kneading dough for bread. It was her Saturday tradition, so that they had fresh bread for Sunday breakfast.

‘Did Dr Kennedy leave? I haven’t seen a car outside.’

She looked up as Hunter walked in and gave him a tight smile. ‘Who? Oh. Yes, darling, she’s gone. Apparently her niece wasn’t feeling well. I packed them some carrot cake to take home. I know her wife is a great baker, but I’d say my baking isn’t too shabby …’ Mary’s voice trailed off. She took her hands out of the dough. Her expression was unreadable and her gaze glassy, as if her mind was very far away.

Hunter’s eyebrows knitted with worry. ‘Mom, did Dr Kennedy tell you and Dad anything new?’ he asked, focusing very hard on not letting his voice quiver.

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