Chapter 16
HUNTER
Maggie had been at my house for a little over an hour, and she’d barely looked at me.
It’d been four days since I left her apartment, four days since we gave in to exactly what we both wanted and then walked out pretending I could just turn it off, like what happened between us hadn’t lit up every inch of my skin.
But every minute since, I’d been replaying those hours over and over in my mind. I’d texted her that night, and she told me she wanted to keep things simple. Uncomplicated. That word came through the phone cold as creek water, soaking in deep and making everything inside me ache.
There wasn’t a single thing about Maggie that was easy, especially not now that we’d set fire to every line we’d ever drawn between us.
I’d wanted to text her again every day since. Hell, I’d hovered over her name a dozen times before shutting my phone off and throwing myself back into work at the ranch, like maybe I could sweat her out of my system.
She didn’t text either. Not once after she’d made it clear where we stood.
The only way I could get her here, even for a couple hours, was to rope the rest of the crew into it. Summer was slowly coming to an end, and we needed at least one more bonfire before Ruby headed back to school.
At least, that’s what I told everyone.
So I’d spent the last hour watching her play with my niece, whisper with Blaire, laugh at my damn brothers, and look anywhere but at me.
We’d just finished eating, and now she sat across from me at the bonfire. It was impressive, honestly, how well she pulled off completely unbothered while I sat across the fire barely able to keep it together.
I tried to keep up with the flow of conversation, but every time she’d laugh or tuck a piece of hair behind her ear or pretend like she didn’t notice me watching her, I lost track of whatever story was being told.
I took a long pull from my beer and forced myself to breathe out slowly.
Everyone looked so at ease and I should have been too. I was at my own damn house, on my own damn land, but I was too busy waiting for Maggie to slip, to give herself away, to look at me and admit that she was thinking about me too.
But she hadn’t. Not even once.
It made me want to crawl out of my fucking skin.
Blaire leaned into Maggie, and she grinned at her friend. “So, have you heard from Brody since the rodeo?”
Maggie’s eyes flicked to mine across the fire, just for a second, just long enough, before she looked back at Blaire.
“Yeah.” She turned the beer bottle slowly in her hands. “He’s been texting me.”
The rush of jealousy that tore through me was hot and immediate, burning through my chest before I could stop it.
I gritted my teeth, trying to hang on to the last shred of composure I had left, but the way Maggie’s lashes dropped, the way she kept almost looking at me, made me want to lose my damn mind.
McCoy whistled low, tossing a marshmallow into his mouth. “You all right there, Hunt?”
I looked over and saw both him and Colt watching me far too carefully. I shrugged, tossed my bottle cap into the fire, and tried to act like everything in my body wasn’t coiled tight from listening to Maggie answer a question about another man.
“I’m good,” I managed, forcing a grin that felt stiff.
“He’s so not good,” Colt said under his breath as he laughed.
I rolled my eyes and gave him a middle finger, and he covered Ruby’s eyes even though she was dead asleep in his lap.
“Don’t you have a fiancée to harass?” I shot back, motioning toward Blaire with the neck of my bottle.
Colt just grinned, cocked his head, and lowered his voice. “I do, but she’s busy talking about Maggie’s love life.”
I stretched my legs out in front of me and took another sip of my beer.
“I figured you’d be interested in hearing about it too,” Colt said, “considering you keep looking at her like you’re about to throw her over your shoulder.”
“I’m not looking at her.”
“Hunt.” McCoy didn’t even glance up from his beer. “You are so fucked.”
“Fuck off,” I grumbled.
Colt laughed and reached for the bag of marshmallows in McCoy’s lap, plucking one and tossing it at my face. I let it bounce off my chest and onto the ground, refusing to give him a reaction.
“Real mature,” I said flatly.
“You love me.” He grinned.
I tipped my beer back and said nothing, but when I glanced over, Maggie was looking at me, really looking, for the first time all night.
The firelight danced along her face, and I wanted to cross the damn thing and pull her into my lap, wanted her to cling to my shirt, and kiss her until she could think of nothing but the two of us.
But she just tucked her hair behind her ear, leaned into Blaire, and let the moment pass right by like it meant nothing.
I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter.
That I could out-stubborn Maggie Dawson, that my pride would hold out longer than the ache in my chest. But I’d spent four days telling myself that lie and it’d gotten me nowhere except half drunk at my own bonfire, pretending I didn’t keep track of every breath she took.
It was Blaire who saved me from doing something stupid.
“We should do something before school starts,” she said as she glanced over at Ruby. “Ruby and I want to go camping. Like, real camping, with tents. No cell phones. Just us.”
McCoy perked up instantly. “I’m so down. Let’s go this weekend.”
He clapped his hands together and shot me a grin as if we were still fifteen and planning a trip without our parents’ permission. The last time we’d gone camping, he ended up with seven stitches after trying to “save” a snapping turtle.
Maggie shook her head. “I can’t. I’m going to Alabama this weekend.”
“Alabama?” The word slipped past my lips before I could stop it. “Since when?”
She shrugged, her eyes fixed on the fire. “We’re going dress shopping for Ella,” she said after a moment. “Sutton and I have been working all week to prep the bakery. She’s going to cover it for me.” Her gaze flicked over to Blaire. “You’ll be on standby in case she needs you, right?”
“Of course.” Blaire smiled, but it was tighter than before.
The fire snapped, sending a flurry of sparks into the dark, and I clenched my teeth.
Of course she was going to Alabama.
I turned the bottle slowly in my hands. Ella was getting married, and Maggie would go back there and smile through whatever her family handed her, whatever backhanded cruelty they’d used a million times before, and I’d be here knowing exactly how they treated her and not being able to do a damn thing about it.
“I could go camping the next weekend, though,” Maggie said, and my gaze cut back to her. “If that works for everyone else.”
“That works for me,” McCoy said, and I watched him look back and forth between me and Maggie. “But, Maggie, I’m scared of bears. Are you going to share a tent with me?”
She rolled those beautiful green eyes, but she couldn’t stop her smile. “Not a chance in hell. You snore.”
McCoy’s mouth dropped open, and he put his hand over his heart. “That’s so rude, Mags. Don’t you dare come crying to me when you get eaten by a bear.”
Maggie opened her mouth to fire something back at him.
“You can share a tent with me,” I said. “I’ll protect you from any bears.”
The fire crackled and nobody said anything. Maggie looked at me for a long moment, and I watched her throat as she swallowed.
“You’d fight a bear?” She cocked a brow.
“I’d do a lot of things.” I held her gaze and let that sit there between us, out in the open where she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t heard it.
It felt like the whole world was holding its breath, and my brain started racing through every possible thing she’d do next.
It was McCoy who finally broke the spell. “Well, hell, Hunter. Maybe I want to share a tent with you instead. Who knew you were so manly?”
Blaire snorted out a laugh, and Maggie finally looked away from me. I glared at McCoy, but he just waggled his brows and grabbed another beer from the cooler beside him.
“What, I’m an equal-opportunity tent sharer.” He grinned, spreading his hands wide. “And I won’t even have to give you anything in exchange for your protection. God knows, Maggie isn’t giving you any.”
Colt made a sound low in his throat that was almost a laugh.
“McCoy,” Blaire admonished him, and McCoy held up his hands.
“I’m just saying.”
Maggie stood and ran her hands over the front of her shorts. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
She didn’t wait for anyone to reply. The firelight caught her hair as she turned, and then she was gone toward the house. I watched her every step as I finished my beer, then I smacked McCoy in the chest as I stood.
“Worth it,” he wheezed, rubbing the spot I’d just hit.
I shook my head and muttered something under my breath, but truth be told, I barely heard McCoy. My eyes were glued to the path Maggie had taken, and I tried to catch up to her as she slipped up the steps.
I climbed the porch two steps at a time, the evening air heavy on my skin, and let the screen door fall shut behind me.
It rattled like a warning, but I barely heard it over the rush in my ears.
The house was dark, except for the moonlight and the flicker of the fire streaming in the window, and that was enough to catch her standing just outside the bathroom with one hand braced on the doorframe and the other pressed against her stomach.
She looked up, and those eyes hit me square in the chest, all green and defiant. Four days of trying to forget exactly how she felt under my hands, and all it took was one look to put me right back at square one.
She didn’t move, didn’t say a word, and neither did I.
The dark did something to her eyes, made them harder to read, and I’d always had trouble reading her even in broad daylight.
I watched her chest rise and fall, watched her tongue touch her bottom lip like she didn’t know she was doing it, and I couldn’t sit still.