Page 51 of Montana Memory

I was so caught up in my own thoughts, I jolted upright when the door creaked open. Who would be coming in here?

But then I saw Hunter, standing in the doorway, shoulders tense, green eyes shadowed. As if my musing had summoned him back.

I gripped the edge of the table, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. “I thought you were gone.” My voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting away. “Thought you might be relieved.”

I frowned. “Relieved?”

He didn’t answer right away, just nodded toward my arms. My gaze followed, landing on the faint bruises marring my skin.

“I didn’t even notice them,” I admitted, voice quieter now.

Hunter’s jaw flexed, his hands curling into fists. “I did.”

The words were raw, edged with something sharp. Anger. Not at me, but at himself.

“They don’t hurt,” I said. “And even if they did, you didn’t mean it. You were caught in something you couldn’t control.”

“That’s the problem,” he gritted out. “I hate that I hurt you at all.”

He hadn’t left because of me. He’d left because he thought he’dhurtme. I exhaled then reached for him. My fingers brushed over his bicep, where the knife cut from Copper’s man was bandaged. A reminder of the night he’d put himself between me and danger—again.

“You’ve taken a hell of a lot worse for me,” I said softly.

Hunter’s eyes flicked to mine, something vulnerable in their depths. He was silent for a beat, then exhaled roughly. “I didn’t want to leave.” His voice was hoarse, like he wasn’t used to saying things like that. “But I thought maybe you’d be relieved. I was too much of a coward to ask—afraid you’d let me stay even if you really didn’t want to.”

I blinked, thrown by the admission. “That never even crossed my mind.”

His brows pulled together, like maybe he didn’t believe me.

I swallowed hard. “Honestly… I thought you left because you didn’t want to get so involved with me. You didn’t sign up for any of this, Hunter. I know that. You just got thrown into it. And now we’re basically living together. We had sex. Hell, we’ve adopted three kittens.”

I was so wound up, I couldn’t stop. “I haven’t done anything to make forward progress, just been staying in this cabin, hiding out, avoiding my problems. Yeah, maybe I help over at Pawsitive a little, but that doesn’t make up for the fact that for a week now I’ve buried my head in the sand. Haven’t tried to find outanything more about myself. I couldn’t blame you if you decided you were better off on your own.”

Hunter stared at me, his gaze unreadable, but the tension in his shoulders had eased—just a little. Then, out of nowhere, the corner of his mouth twitched.

“You know what we need to do?”

The list was almost endless. “Figure out if I have a bank account. Figure out a way for me to support myself. Since I can’t remember anything, I imagine that’s going to be challenging. I can’t live in this cabin forever. And about a hundred other things. What were you going to say?”

“We need to go on a date.”

I blinked. “A what?”

“A date,” he repeated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We’re doing everything way out of order, but we need to go on our first date.”

I searched his face, waiting for the punch line, but there wasn’t one. “But what about all the other stuff?”

“It’ll still be here afterward.” He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Let’s go on a picnic. You, me…and the kittens.”

A laugh escaped me, breathless and unexpected. “A picnic? With the kittens? It’s winter.”

“Yeah, but it’s mild out now. Sunny. We’ll bring a blanket. And yeah, the kittens deserve a day out too.”

His smile was faint but real, and damn it, something inside me loosened at the sight of it.

I didn’t know where the hell this was coming from. A few minutes ago, we’d been standing in the wreckage of almost losing each other. Now he wanted to pack a damn basket and take me on a date?

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