Page 5 of Moonlight Feels Right
"There was a suitcase that came with her. Maybe Bree packed whatever she needs."
"Hopefully. What about food for tonight, breakfast tomorrow, or her school lunch?"
He frowned at her very practical but also unsettling questions. "I don't have much food in my apartment," he admitted.
"Then you'll need to get groceries for both of you. That small suitcase didn't look big enough to hold a backpack or a lunchbox, so you might need to pick those up as well. I can help you make a list."
"Why would you want to?" he couldn't help asking. "I'm sure you have your own life, your own problems to worry about."
"At the moment, I'm problem-free, but there was a time when I was in Olivia's situation, and if there's something I can do to make her life easier, I'd like to do it."
Her words caught him off guard and the shadows that suddenly passed through her golden eyes made him wonder if there was more to her than the sunny smile she usually wore.
"It's up to you, of course," Emmalyn added. "You don't seem like someone who accepts help. But there aren't any strings. Whatever I do is for Olivia, not for you. Does that make it easier?"
Surprisingly, it did. "All right. I'll take the help. Thank you." He blew out a breath at the end of his statement.
"That was really hard for you to say, wasn't it?" she asked with a knowing gleam in her eyes.
He had a feeling he was going to regret taking her help because it would probably take him down a path he didn't want to go. But he had no choice. "Just don't make me say it again."
Chapter Two
Emmalyn would have never offered Hunter Kane help if he wasn't with an adorable and terrified six-year-old girl, because she had never felt comfortable around him. The few times she'd tried to be friendly, he'd shut her down. She'd made excuses for his abrupt, intense nature because, clearly, he was in both physical and emotional pain. But even when he'd healed, he had still stayed away from everyone, which had made her wonder if that was just his personality, his preference.
She'd told herself it was none of her business if he wanted to be distant from his neighbors. She'd learned a long time ago that trying to change someone's mind was a futile task. No matter how much she wanted to make someone feel better or act differently, if they didn't want it, too, it wasn't going to happen.
But while she'd made peace with letting him struggle on his own, her heart had gone out to Olivia, who reminded her very much of herself once upon a time. She knew what it was like to be dropped abruptly into a strange situation with someone she barely knew, and if she could make things easier for this little girl, she would.
When they went downstairs to check the suitcase that had come with Olivia, she wasn't surprised to see that Hunter's apartment felt a lot like him: cold, dark, and sterile. While his apartment was the mirror image of hers in the layout, that was where the similarities ended. Her space was filled with color; his walls were a stark white, with not one photo or picture breaking up the blank space.
A single couch faced a TV mounted on the wall, and the coffee table held nothing but a remote control and a stack of exercise pamphlets. The kitchen counters were empty aside from a coffeemaker, and a quick glance toward the open bedroom door revealed an unmade bed and not much else. The only thing at all interesting was a model helicopter sitting on the table next to the couch. The personal item almost felt out of place, and she couldn't help wondering why he'd chosen this one thing to put on display.
"My dad has one of these," Olivia said, running toward the helicopter. She picked it up and ran her fingers along the blades, a sad expression on her face.
She glanced at Hunter, seeing his tight, somewhat angry scowl. To his credit, he didn't say anything, but if Olivia looked in his direction, she would have no problem seeing his discomfort.
Clearing her throat, she drew his attention to her. "Where do you want Olivia to sleep?"
"She can have my room. I'll sleep on the couch." He paused, giving Olivia a worried look. "Livvy…" He licked his lips. "Do you want to put that down?"
She looked up as she spun the helicopter blades. "Daddy let me play with his helicopter. He said when I grow up, I can be a pilot, too. I like to fly."
"Me, too," he muttered, his jaw still incredibly tight. "But let's put the helicopter down. I don't want you to accidentally drop it."
Olivia set the helicopter down on its side, then said, "Where's the bathroom?"
"It's there," Hunter said, pointing to the door off the short hallway between the living room and bedroom. Then he quickly moved across the room and set the helicopter right side up.
Watching the reverence with which he did that made Emmalyn more than a little curious, and she couldn't help the questioning glance she gave him when he moved away from the couch, his gaze meeting hers.
"Did you fly with Olivia's father?" she asked.
"Yes," he said shortly.
"Is that why you and her dad have the same model helicopter?"
He didn't answer right away, then said, "Gary, Olivia's father, and I made the model helicopters together. It was one of those weeks when a series of storms grounded us, and we were going crazy with the inaction. We found the kits at a nearby store, and we put them together." He shrugged. "It's stupid to care about a kid's toy."
