Page 36 of Bad Love

I slip inside and scan the apartment. It's clean, but it still looks like a mom-and-kidplace.

I’m not telling Hunter I’m a mom. Because it’d invite all kinds of questions I don’t want to answer, not because I want to soak in more of the borderline-dangerous flirtation that builds every time wemeet.

In twenty seconds flat, I banish any remaining mom stuff. I don't want Hunter knowing I spend my spare time signing permission forms for hot doglunches.

I'm ready to let him in when I spot the Rocket on the counter.Shit.

I stick the thing in the dishwasher, then return to open the door a crack. "Comein."

Hunter takes off his shoes without me asking, which surprises me. I reach for the beer, but he keeps it, passing me and going into thekitchen.

"Your grandmother must be quite the pioneer," I say for something to distract myself from the fact that he’s in myapartment.

He nods. "She started the company after being widowed with three young children. She had a modest start-up fund thanks to my grandfather, but she built everything herself. Forty-five years later, she still runs the board and makes bigdecisions."

I'm so interested in his words that he’s reached into the cupboards and grabbed cups before I can stophim.

"Your parents never got involved?" I ask because I'm curious what this woman's kids did. Not how Hunter came to be who and how heis.

"My dad has his own company. Venture funding. My mom runs a nonprofit. Nice cups." He brings down five rainbow-stripedones.

"There are two of us," Iprotest.

"And fivebeers."

He brings the case and cups over to my kitchenette table and sets them on top, then drops into the seat as if he's heavy. "What about your parents? You grow uphere?"

I try not to inhale his scent.I hereby name this new holiday Fantasy Day. "Little town inConnecticut."

"Yourfolks?"

I hesitate because I don't want to tell Hunter. He'll make a big deal out of it. "My mom's a teacher. My father's apastor."

His eyes turn knowing, and I wait for the questions or thejokes.

Instead, all he says is, "You're aPK?"

I blink in surprise, both that he uses the nickname and that he dodges the obvious remarks. "Yeah."

"One of my best friends growing up was a pastor's kid. Your dad the fire-and-brimstonetype?"

My lips twitch. "More fire thanbrimstone."

"Why’d you leave home for the big city? Woulda figured kids in your situation would stick close to theirfamily."

I lift my chin, thinking of my son. “I did stick close to my family. But I also wanted a career. I never wanted to depend on someone to provide for me." That part'strue.

Hunter nods. "Well, if that’s what brought you here, then lucky me.” He clears his throat as if he found himself lost for a moment, looking around. “So. You wanna look atvibes?”

“Yes. Sure.” I pull open my computer and pop up the open tabs. “I’ve narrowed it down to afew.”

I show him the top three, and he looks over my shoulder. I try to keep breathing despite the warmth of his body, as if sporting pigtails while analyzing sex toys in my apartment with a man who’s so hot he should be illegal is my normalroutine.

“What makes theseappealing?”

“Judging from the reviews, reviewers like the range of settings. They can change them to suit theirpreferences.”

“For?”

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