Page 31 of Moonlight Feels Right
She let out a sigh. "I don't know. When it comes to my past, I don't like to involve anyone else in it."
"I'm already involved."
"I shouldn't have told you the story."
"But you did. So, what do you say?"
"All right," she said with a helpless shrug. "I'll need to leave by 9:45."
"Not a problem."
"Okay. Thank you."
"You're more than welcome." As she headed up the stairs, his gaze followed her all the way to the landing. He finally turned around and moved back to the table. When he rejoined the group, he caught Lexie watching him with a curious gleam in her eyes, and he had a feeling he'd just given far too much away. But to her credit, Lexie didn't say a word, and for that, he was grateful. Because if she asked him how he felt about Emmalyn, he really wasn't sure what he would say.
Chapter Nine
Sunday morning, Emmalyn awoke with a knot of anxiety in her stomach. She'd barely slept, her dreams filled with fragments of memories—her mother's face, the commune, the night her aunt had taken her away. She'd woken several times, heart racing, before finally giving up on sleep around six.
By the time Hunter knocked on her door at nine forty-five, she'd been through three outfit changes and two cups of coffee. She also felt sick to her stomach.
"Morning," he said when she opened the door. "Are you ready?"
"Not really," she said, wondering why he was alone. "Where's Olivia?"
"She's with Paige and Henry. We ran into them last night, and Paige invited her to play with Henry this morning and then go to a movie with them at noon. She'll be tied up with them until about three. So, we have plenty of time."
"That will be fun for her, more fun than this farmers' market run. Are you sure you wouldn't rather take your sudden alone time for yourself?"
"I'm sure. And I can pick up some fresh fruits and vegetables for next week. Now that I'm feeding a six-year-old, I need to get on top of my grocery game."
"That's true. All right, let's go," she said as she stepped outside and locked the door behind her.
It wasn't as warm as yesterday, so she'd put on jeans and a short-sleeved T-shirt. She hadn't seen anyone from the commune since she was twelve years old, and she doubted anyone would recognize her. As a child, she'd never worn anything but loose-fitting pants and shirts, and her hair, while shoulder length now, was much shorter than it had been when she hadn't had a haircut for seven years. She'd been able to sit on her long blonde braid.
As the memories ran through her, she forced herself to take a calming breath. Hunter gave her a speculative look as they walked down the stairs. "You're nervous, aren't you?" he asked. "Are you afraid there will be some kind of confrontation? Not necessarily with your mom, but others who might be there with her?"
"I hope not, but I don't know. As I mentioned, my aunt has had a few covert meetings with my mother over the years and nothing has happened, so hopefully that will be the case today," she said as they walked out to the parking lot and got in his car. She still couldn't quite believe he was going with her, that she was allowing someone to see that part of her life.
Hunter gave her a reassuring smile as she fastened her seat belt, and the warmth of his gaze sent a different kind of butterfly through her stomach. "Why are you being so nice?" she couldn't help asking. "For months, you barely acknowledged me."
His smile faded. "I regret that, Em. I was lost in a world of pain and anger. I couldn't get myself out of it. And I didn't want to bring anyone else into it."
"So, you suffered alone."
"It seemed like the best option. But the last few days have proved otherwise. Maybe if I had started talking to other people sooner, I would have gotten out of my funk faster," he said as he started the car. "But I feel better now, so that's what matters."
"I do kind of understand why you wanted to be alone to deal with your injuries and your grief. There's a part of me that still thinks I should be doing this alone, that I'm crazy to involve you."
"Too late now. And as I promised yesterday, I won't get in your way. Think of me as your driver."
"You're definitely not just my driver," she said. "You kind of seem like my friend, which is also weird since we've only been speaking to each other since Thursday, which was only a few days ago."
"Friendships can happen fast."
She nodded. It wasn't just friendships that could start fast—relationships could, too. But she couldn't let herself think of this as anything more than a friendship. Hunter had a life to get back to. He was just offering his support as a thank-you for what she'd done for him. She couldn't let herself believe it was anything more.
"There is something I'm curious about," Hunter said a few moments later.
