Page 42 of Bargain with the Bachelor
Pulling the Bentley down a narrow gravel and shell road, he parked facing the water and came around to my side to open the door.
“How did you find this place?” I asked as I got out and looked around.
“Jack and I used to ride our bikes all over when we were kids—we had a lot of empty hours to fill,” he explained.
I had a feeling there was more to that story. Hunter always avoided conversations about his childhood.
“We’d check out any interesting trail we found, exploring,” he said. “One day we found this beach. No one else ever seems to come here.”
Grabbing my camera bag from the back seat, I followed him down a rocky path to a gap in the cliff wall. From there we picked our way over the dark rocks down the sharp slope to the water.
The hidden beach was gorgeous. Natural and untamed, it featured interesting rock structures and frost-tipped seagrass that protected it from the view of passing drivers or nearby homes.
“Wow. This is amazing.” I clicked off shot after shot, finding fresh inspiration everywhere I turned.
As I worked, Hunter stayed silent. Several times I called him over to share an exquisite angle, to see a particularly intriguing shell, a comical hermit crab waddling across the pebbled sand.
He gave me murmured responses, remaining stoic, before going back to gazing silently out at the ocean.
At one point, I aimed the camera lens at him, hoping to capture his profile or at least elicit a response from him. He must have seen me in his peripheral vision because he held out a spread palm, blocking me from getting a shot.
Laughing, I took a picture anyway then zoomed in and clicked off several shots of Hunter’s hand as I moved around him, pretending to be a fashion photographer and faking a bad English accent.
“Oh yeah. That’s it, baby. Give it to me. Show me that palm. Okay, now the knuckles. Oh yeah. Beautiful. Gorgeous.”
That managed to elicit a chuckle from him. “What’s got you in such a good mood?” he asked with a reluctant grin.
“What’s got you in such a bad one? You’ve been in a funk for the past week.”
“Nah. Just have a lot on my mind. This is nice though. I love the beach in winter.”
“Really?”
Hunter nodded. “This is my favorite time of year. It’s so quiet and peaceful, and the spare beauty of it just sort of speaks to me.”
He lifted his shoulders and let them fall. “I’ve always been a minimalist, I guess.”
For a moment I just stood with my jaw hanging open and my heart pounding.
Whowasthis guy? And how could he be so perfect? It was like he’d been designed in the Made for Kristal Factory.
“What?” he asked when he noticed me staring.
“I can’t believe you just said that. It’s like you just read my mind and spoke my thoughts out loud. No one ever agrees with me about the winters here. They complain they’re too long, too cold. They run off and spend a few months in Florida or California to avoid them.”
I turned my eyes toward the sinking sun and its purple-pink reflection glowing on the gently swaying ocean. “But I’d never want to leave here in winter. It’s always been my favorite season. It’s so beautiful. It’s like magic.”
Suddenly self-conscious about my effusive language, I laughed. “I always thought it was just me, that I must be a little crazy.”
Hunter waited a long moment before saying, “It’s not just you.”
Chapter Twelve
Sponging Off the Chipp Charity Fund
Hunter
And I wasdefinitelya little crazy. Or a lot.
