Page 6 of Until Posey

I assumed and cast judgment on him without even hearing his side of the story.

What happens when we assume, Posey? I’d made an ass of myself. The child I’d presumed was his turned out to be his nephew. Hunter also seemed genuinely surprised to find out about Destiny. Because of the investigation, along with other related cases to Pedro and Hope, Cobi was being tight-lipped about it all. Only that there was a case coming up within the federal court and if I needed more information, I could attend the hearing.

I should’ve held my tongue with Hunter until I knew the full truth.

Instead, I went with my gut.

Now that I could breathe and feel like my insides were going to melt, or I’d ruin my panties being so close to Hunter, I could think clearly. Which meant my actions just compounded the situation. Instead of compassion and understanding, I led with disdain and self-righteous anger. I tapped into my abandonment issues and took them out on him.

What a nightmare. I blew an errant piece of hair out of my face because boy, did I make an ass out of myself with Hunter. I was rude, condescending, and worst, I behaved like a jealous woman to boot.

Me.

Posey Roberts, who all my friends, which included two people, constantly told me how nice and sweet I was. Trust wasn’t easy for me because of my background. Therapy was helping, but I also was aware I’d never be perfect. I’d also been called, occasionally, a goodie-two-shoes in both high school and college. Hell, even around the office they called me a Rosey-Posey behind my back. I didn’t take offense. I’d rather be an upbeat, considerate person than a miserable grump like Hunter.

Even if the rubble of my life lay at my feet.

Shit. I smacked my forehead in frustration. I did it again.

As a social worker, I’d seen some things in my time, and I always leaned toward non-judgmental, yet I treated Hunter like a contemptuous bitch. I didn’t like the slimy feeling of guilt coating my skin.

For cripes' sake, I showed up out of the blue and informed him he was a dad. Oh, and by the way, here is your daughter. See what happens when you don’t use a fucking condom, asshole? Followed by, see ya wouldn’t want to be ya. You can’t give us back your kid. You better take care of her or else.

That would stress anyone out.

Smacking the steering wheel because of how arrogant I’d been, I realized above everything, I now owed him an apology. Not this second, of course, because even though he seemed competent with his nephew, the cute little boy still had a mother who’d relieve Hunter at some point.

No one was coming to take Destiny to give him a breather. From now on, he’d have his hands full.

Then there was the fact we hadn’t ended the introductions in the most pleasant of ways, either. Going back up onto his porch and knocking on the door was tantamount to walking into a den of lions. Hunter would eat me alive.Not a bad way to go. Be honest with yourself, girl. You want to ride that Viking God dick?

Instead of contemplating my inner hussy’s question, I started the car and hit the map button on my phone to load the directions back to the office. Once my phone started talking to me, I pulled away from Hunter’s house. Work was still waiting to be done at the office. I could wallow in self-pity later, after I followed up on my pending cases.

I was halfway back to the office when my mind drifted back to Hunter.

Ugh.

Why did he have to be so gosh darn hot?

And tall.

Hunter had to be at least six foot three. Wouldn’t you know it, I had a thing for tall guys? Even if the few dates I’d been lucky to have in my life were short compared to Hunter. He was also barrel chested and broad shouldered, filling up every space he occupied to the point of suffocation.

No wonder why I couldn’t think around him.

At my five-foot-two stature, Hunter was a freaking giant. He towered over me. Mixed with the faux hawk he was sporting, and the array of tattoos plastered all over his body, Hunter reminded me of one of those Viking Gods from the romance novels I loved to read. Being able to visualize how the hero could loom over the heroine gave me more delicious visuals.

Obviously, I was a voracious reader, which meant I also had a lot of book boyfriends.

They were safe. They never told me I should not be eating the pasta I ordered for dinner. Or, better yet, I should’ve ordered a salad instead. That had happened to me twice. The last time it happened, it was when I swore off dating. Men saw a slim waist, big ass, and breasts, and thought somehow, I either waist trained, or I gained in the right spots. I was genetically blessed, like some said I was or genetically cursed.

Both suited my love-hate relationship with my body.

I’d told Lucy, my best friend, I’d rather become the town’s cat lady, than deal with that bullshit of having my caloric intake scrutinized again. Not that any of the guys I had ever dated were marriage material. More like they were something to do on the weekend, so I didn’t feel alone in life.

Worst part, their personalities were so atrocious, I never had sex with them. Something I’d promise myself I’d do before I turned thirty. No one liked a thirty-year-old virgin.

Hunter, on the other hand, had what Lucy called big dick energy.

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