Chapter 3
three
Millie
“You might even have to spend the night.”
In my wildest dreams, I never would have thought I would hear him say that.
“I don’t want to be a bother. I’m sure I can make it back into town.”
“No. I’m not going to risk anything happening to you in this weather. You’ll stay here with me tonight.” The possessive tone in his voice makes me squeeze my thighs together beneath my long winter coat.
This is better than I could have imagined. “Can I help you put away your groceries?” I’m not sure where that odd offer came from. It’s not like I know where his groceries go anyway.
“That’s okay. I think I can handle it.” He gives me a half smile, sending butterflies fluttering in my stomach. “Why don’t you take off your coat and make yourself comfortable while I put everything away?” With a nod, he turns to the table piled with grocery bags and begins rifling through them.
Slipping off my coat, I hang it over the back of his couch, since I’m not sure where else to put it, and look around his cabin. It’s a medium-sized cabin with an open floor plan and an amazing view of the mountains from the back sliding glass door.
“It’s really beautiful up here.” I step closer to the back door for a better view when I hear his sharp intake of breath. I glance over my shoulder and bite back a smile as his eyes sweep hungrily up and down my body.
Score one for the outfit.
“It certainly is.” His eyes never leave my body. He clears his throat when he realizes he’s been caught staring at me. “I know it’s kind of early, but do you want something to eat? I can make us grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.”
It’s only around four thirty in the afternoon.
It took me a little longer than I expected to drive up the mountain to his cabin.
After Nora and I loaded my SUV, I stopped by the bakery and picked up some cinnamon rolls and cookies as a special treat for Hunter.
“I stopped at the bakery. We can have either cinnamon rolls or unicorn cookies for dessert.”
“I’m partial to the unicorn sugar cookies.” His smile softens his features, and I inhale sharply this time.
Recovering quickly, I return his smile. “A man after my own heart.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wish I could take them back. The smile falls from his face, and I silently curse myself for ruining the moment. “I just mean, they’re my favorite also.”
He nods, accepting my explanation, but the smile doesn’t return. If anything, he looks sad.
Great, Millie. I hope you didn’t screw this up.
He turns back to putting away the groceries, dismissing the rest of our conversation about our favorite dessert. Deciding to regroup, I take a seat on the couch, trying to figure out why he slammed the door in my face when I first arrived.
Afraid of making the situation even more awkward, I didn’t ask him any questions when he finally opened the door for me five minutes later.
But watching him now, I notice his gait seems a little off.
His left leg looks stiff, and I swear he grimaces every once in a while as he walks around the kitchen.
I don’t know much about the Wounded Warrior Sanctuary, but I do know it mainly helps military veterans injured in the line of duty.
I wonder if Hunter has a leg injury—that would make sense.
I try not to stare, but I’m curious about the pain and suffering he might be going through, even the mental anguish from the fallout of his injury.
As if reading my mind, he turns around and faces me.
“I was in the Army for ten years on active duty.” He takes a deep breath before continuing.
“A year ago today, there was an accident. I didn’t care where I was running; I just knew I had to get to my buddy, who was trapped.
I stepped on an IED. The doctors couldn’t save the lower part of my leg.
I spent the last year in an Army hospital recovering.
Now I walk with this.” He pulls up his pant leg, revealing the metal and plastic of his prosthetic leg.
He eyes me wearily, like this will change how I view him. “Does it hurt?”
“Sometimes, it feels like it’s still there. They call that phantom pain. They can get really bad, like last night.”
“Is that why you wanted your groceries delivered?” There’s a glimmer of hope in my voice that he wasn’t trying to avoid me at the grocery store today, but that’s soon shot down.
“Among other reasons.” The look of longing in his eyes saddens me, then turns to anger. How dare he decide to avoid me because he doesn't think I’ll accept him with a missing limb?
He has no idea what he’s unleashed in me. If he thinks he can push me away because of this, he is sadly mistaken. If he thought being in the military was bad, he’s definitely not prepared for my sneak attack. One way or another, he’s mine.