Page 9 of The Fake Fiance's Billionaire Adversary
If he had to cross an ocean, he’d be there. If she was flat-out telling him no,she wouldn’t be asking to have dinner. Or she could be offering him dinner to let him down easy. Great, now he’d be riding a mental seesaw until he saw her.
“Yeah, I can do that.” He pulled the phone from his ear and checked the time. If he left as soon as the call ended, he could even grab a shower.
“Great. I’ll see ya then.”
The call ended, and he stared at his phone screen for second and then slipped it back into his pocket.
“You look perplexed,” Stone said.
Hunter wheeled around, startled. “Uh, no, I’m good, but I need to get that last cabinet up.”
“Yeah, sure.” His partner shrugged. “What’s the rush, though?”
“I’ll have to raincheck the offer for a beer. I had something come up that isn’t work-related.”
Stone eyed him a moment. They’d learned long ago that if one didn’t want to give up information, they didn’t press it. “All right, then let’s get it done. I’m ready for a ball game and some downtime.”
So was Hunter, but with his looming meeting with Reagan, downtime wasn’t happening. He wasn’t sure what to hope for, but either way, after tonight, he’d at least have an answer. Once he had that, he could plan accordingly.
* * *
After parking his truck,Hunter stepped out as the sun cast an orange glow over everything it touched. With the way the cicadas were chirping, the temperature tomorrow was going to be triple digits with a hundred-percent chance of humidity. Good thing the air conditioning in the project house worked.
As he reached the backdoor to the kitchen, the first thing to hit him was the smell of something delicious wafting through the screen. Man, he hoped she made enough for seconds. He squinted and made out an aproned Reagan holding a bottle of wine while standing in front of the stove. Then he realized she was humming, and he could hear the joy in it. She enjoyed cooking.
She must have heard him because she looked up and said, “Come in.”
He stepped inside, and the aroma was even stronger. “Whatever that is, it smells amazing.” The second it was out of his mouth, his stomach loudly rumbled. A small part of him hoped she’d not only made enough for seconds, but thirds, and maybe even a takeout box. A little sweet tea was the only thing that could make it better.
Chuckling, she said, “Chicken française. Go ahead and take a seat.” She tipped her head toward the table.
“Thanks.” He glanced at the table set for two. The lack of candles assured him it would be all business. If he were honest, he wasn’t sure what he thought about that. What if they weren’t on opposite sides? Having dinner with a beautiful woman sounded pretty good.
“Are you thirsty? I’ve made some fresh sweet tea.”
She must have been reading his mind. “I’d love some.”
The smile she flashed him reached her eyes, and he was struck by the brightness of it. He hadn’t noticed that before. Then again, anytime he’d come to The Sandy Pelican, it had been on business. Not that this wasn’t business, but…he shook the thought away. He was hungry. Clearly, he couldn’t think straight at the moment.
“I’m in the middle of this, so please help yourself. The pitcher’s in the fridge, and the glasses are in the cabinet to the left of it.”
On his way to the table, he helped himself to a tall glass. He took a long drag of the cold perfectly sweetened liquid. He refilled his glass and then poured her a glass as well.
Just as he set their glasses on the table, she poured some wine into the pan, and it flamed up. Considering the ease in which she handled it, it was something that happened fairly regularly. It showed a different side of her. One that was self-assured and confident. It took her from beautiful to downright gorgeous.
After plating their food, she placed one in front of him before taking a seat across from him with her own meal. “Thank you for the drink.”
“Sure,” he said, staring at the meal in front of him while taking his utensils out of the linen napkin and draping it over his lap.
“Eat. I promise you it’s not poisoned.”
He lifted his gaze to hers and chuckled. “I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe I should wait until you eat it.”
She cut a piece of chicken then popped it into her mouth. “See. All okay.”
Man, she was so different from the last time they’d spoken…and he liked this side of her. “I suspect it’s way better than okay.”
He dug into his chicken, swiping it through the sauce and gathering a forkful of rice. As he chewed, it took effort not to pinch himself just to make sure he hadn’t died and gone to heaven. He’d never tasted anything so good. After he swallowed, he said, “Wow.”
