CHAPTER THREE Emma
HUNTER'S ARMS SWEEP around me as he pulls me from his truck. I instinctively wrap mine around his neck. "Hunter, this house is too much," I say. It is definitely too much for me. I am not a mansion girl. I wasn't raised well off; we always had enough, and I liked my small cabin. This place is at least ten of my cabins in one.
"Nothing is too much for you, Emma," he says as he carries me up to the front door, which is no less than twelve feet tall.