4. Hunter
Hunter
I know Sutton wanted to land this job, but even I knew her chances were slim. She’s a good realtor, and I’m sure she’d be just as good of a designer, but a job this size is going to take background knowledge.
I’m proud of her for having the confidence to apply, but remodeling my house will be a better first step for her—if she’s not too stubborn to take it on.
My shift starts in about an hour, but I’m early, like always. Once the other officers get here for briefing, the office transforms into a gossip-filled henhouse—something I avoid at all costs.
I set my coffee cup on my shared desk, adjust my sidearm, and sit down to catch up on reports.
“Hey, Hunter.” Oliver, one of our new office clerks taking over after Margie retired last month, steps up to the desk.
“Morning, Oliver.”
I don’t bother looking away from my computer, hoping he’ll get the hint that I’m not one for morning conversations. I miss Margie. She knew how I worked. In fact, she knew this station like the back of her hand. Unlike Oliver.
“How was your weekend, sir?” He leans against my desk, crossing his feet at his ankles.
I sit back in my chair and rest my arms over my stomach. “It was pretty quiet. Worked on my barn mostly.” Anything to keep my mind off a certain redhead.
It’s been a few days since I found Sutton at the bar, drowning her sorrows over not getting the remodel project.
A few days since I let some of these feelings I’ve kept buried out.
Days that have felt like an eternity, since she hasn’t seen, called, or texted me.
But I’ve got no one to blame for her radio silence except myself.
I should have kept my mouth shut, but it’s getting impossible not to.
“I didn’t know you had horses,” Oliver says. “I used to ride horses as a kid.”
I stare at him. It’s way too early in the morning for this. “I don’t have horses.”
“Oh, that’s cool.” He shuffles side to side. “Any news on the Magnolia Road property? Never thought our town would be involved in something like this.”
Suncrest Valley is normally a pretty sleepy town, and we hardly have anything exciting going on. Recently though, we’ve had an influx of new residents coming to escape the big city. It’s great to see our town growing, but with growth comes an increase in crime.
“No town is immune to crime,” I tell him, turning back to my computer. “You’ll learn that pretty fast working here.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he says. “You know, if you ever need any help, I’d love to—”
The door to the briefing rooms slams open, bouncing off the wall behind me. Officers spring up from their desks as our police chief strides into the room. I push my chair out, about to do the same, when Chief places his hand on my shoulder. Oliver buttons his lips, eyes wide as saucers.
“Hunter,” Chief Rhodes says, “I want to hear what you’ve got so far on this narcotic case. Stop by my office later.” It’s not a request. “C’mon, everyone,” he says, striding into the conference room. “Briefing starts in fifteen.”
“Good luck with that.” Oliver turns abruptly and heads back to the front counter.
Half-written notes about the Magnolia Road tip sit beside my coffee. I should be pouring over them, but my mind keeps drifting to Sutton instead.
One eye on the case, the other on the redhead.
We’ve spent so many years like this, toeing the line between friends and something more, both of us too scared to push the boundaries. Each day our orbits get closer and closer, until last month, they almost collided.
I rub my hands over my face, smooth my hair behind my ears, and grab my cowboy hat.
In the conference room, Chief drones on, the buzz of the heater the perfect white noise for drowning out almost anything.
But my mind has other plans. I can’t stop thinking of that Colorado night.
Sutton laughing at the show, the way she let herself be . . .
One month ago.
I’ve never seen Sutton so carefree, at least not since we were kids.
She and Greer scream, jump, and attempt to sing along to every track the DJ plays at the concert we’re attending in Colorado.
She looks over her shoulder at me, a wide smile across her face.
Her cheeks are covered in glitter that make her green eyes even brighter.
This woman is fucking incredible, and she doesn’t even realize it.
Sutton never takes vacation days, so when she mentioned Luke had planned a surprise trip for Greer that we were all going on, I was 100 percent in.
By the time the show ends, everyone’s exhausted, Greer especially.
I couldn’t be happier for Luke, to have found his soulmate and for her to have found her way out of the hell she’s been living in since losing her husband.
I’m even more glad Sutton found a best friend, two when Navy entered the mix.
Sutton walks hand in hand with Greer. Is Sutton starting to see she can have everything she’s ever wanted if she just reaches out and takes it?
The drive back to the hotel is quiet. We’ve had a long day with our drive from Suncrest Valley and an exhilarating show, so I know most of us are ready for sleep. Sutton’s head tips over and rests on the window, her mouth open slightly as her eyes flutter shut. This girl could fall asleep anywhere.
Ten minutes later, we pour into the lobby, and Vinnie throws out the idea of going to the bar.
Sutton yawns. “I’m down.”
“Nah, babe,” I say. “You need sleep.” I put my arm around her shoulder and guide her toward the elevator.
“Don’t be a fun ruiner, Hunter,” she says.
“Not trying to be, but I don’t want to have to carry your ass all the way back to our room after you fall asleep at the bar. Like you do every time we go out this late.”
We catch the elevator to our floor, Sutton leaning more and more of her body weight into me. She’s fading fast. I nudge her through the hotel room door, taking her fanny pack off from around her waist.
On these kinds of trips, it’s typical for Sutton and me to share a room. I take the queen bed closest to the door, and she takes the one closest to the window. What isn’t typical about this trip is that this room has only one bed.
Sutton stares at the bed.
I come up behind her and stare at it too. “Everything okay?”
“I was hoping between dropping off our suitcases earlier and now that this bed would’ve turned into two beds.”
“Doesn’t look like it did,” I say.
For the past six years, Sutton’s been living with her mom again.
She says it’s because she feels safe there, but I know the truth.
She stays there because it’s predictable, an environment she knows and can control to some degree.
Over the last several months, Sutton’s been sleeping in my guest room more and more.
I love giving her a soft space to land, especially after what she’s been through.
But having her in my house is one thing.
Having her in my bed is a whole other thing.
If she doesn’t make me sleep on the floor, tonight will be a true test of self-control.
Who am I kidding? Every moment I spend with Sutton takes every ounce of self-control I have. If I had it my way, we’d already be married with the white-picket fence and two point five kids.
I’ve just been waiting for her to be ready. But, damn, watching her tonight? And with the possibility of us sharing a bed? Waiting is getting really fucking hard.
“Go wash your face and get ready for bed.” I bend down and slip off her sneakers.
“You’re so bossy.” She stands and rummages through her suitcase, grabbing a nightshirt and stumbling her way to the bathroom. “I think my feet might fall off.”
“I’ll rub them when you’re done.” I untuck my shirt from my jeans, peel it from my body, and toss it over the nearby chair. I toe my boots off and unbutton my jeans when I sense her watching me. This woman thinks she’s so sly, always checking me out as if I don’t feel her looking.
I smile to myself and slide my jeans down my legs, leaving me in black boxer briefs. Her sharp intake of breath tells me she’s still watching. I bend down, nice and slow, pick up my jeans, and throw them over my suitcase.
“You just going to stand there and watch?” I tease, looking over my shoulder at her.
“What if I do?” There’s a challenge in her voice.
My little spitfire. Is this her way of saying she’s ready to blur the line between us like I am?
“I’d say the view is better from over here,” I say.
I’m positive she’ll retreat to the safety of the bathroom now.
But she surprises me and takes two steps in my direction.
My heart nearly leaps out of my chest. I turn to face her, locking my hands in fists at my side.
She makes it one more step and stops, looks directly in my eyes, and gives me a shy grin.
She backs into the en suite and closes the door.
“Someday, you won’t walk away,” I whisper, pulling back the covers and laying down.
I click off the ambient lighting, and the room plunges into darkness.
The bathroom door is so quiet that I barely hear when Sutton cracks it open.
A pillar of light spills across our bed.
Turning on my side to face the door, I see her bent over the sink splashing water over her face.
“Today was really fun,” she says. “We should do this kind of stuff more often.”
“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, Sut. You know this.”
She stands upright and peeks out the small opening. She’s fresh-faced, hair refusing to be confined in a headband, with a smile that’s only meant for me. “I know you would.”
She turns her focus back to the mirror, gently scrubbing at her cheeks. I prop my head in my hand, content to watch as she combs out her hair and pulls it into a topknot. This is my favorite version of Sutton, the Sutton that isn’t perfectly put together, the side of her she hardly shows anyone.