Page 6 of New Year, New Guy
‘Bye, sis.’ She left at the same breakneck speed with which she’d arrived.
* * *
Laura scraped a thin smear of butter on her toast. ‘You didn’t seem too disappointed when Polly rushed off. Are there stories about you and Johnny she would prefer not to hear?’
‘It’s all old news. Not worth digging up.’
She was adept at recognising a lie when she heard one these days and the faint tic in his right cheek gave Hunter away.
‘I’m curious. What do you do for a living?’
Changing the subject was another giveaway. She could afford to play along for now. ‘I’m the nursing ward manager of the A&E department at Derriford Hospital just up the road from here.’
‘I bet you run it like a well-oiled machine.’
‘They call me the Enforcer.’ Her admission made him smile. ‘Let’s get ready and leave before the weather changes.’
‘Rainwear and hiking boots?’
‘Yes if you’ve got them.’ As a medical professional she rationalised her strong physical reaction to this man as nothing more than rampant pheromones but the emotional tug he exerted disturbed her far more.
‘Feel free to bail on me. I won’t tell Polly,’ he said. ‘If you don’t mind giving me a key, we can both go off and do our ownthing. I could be way off base but I’m picking up the sense you’d rather be on your own and that’s fine with me.’
An apology stuck in her throat but she couldn’t explain her reserved attitude without talking about Mike, something she had no intention of doing. She retrieved a spare set of keys from the junk drawer and dropped them in his outstretched hand. If she still headed for Dartmoor she wouldn’t be completely lying to Polly later, something she hated doing – although there were certain aspects of her ill-fated marriage her younger sister would be shocked to discover. Laura’s role as protective older sister ran deep and she refused to spoil Polly’s optimism about her upcoming wedding with her own deep-rooted cynicism. Johnny was a very different man from Mike, at least she fervently hoped so, but how well could anyone really know another person?
A few minutes later she heard Hunter slam the front door on his way out and hurried upstairs to throw on a warmer jumper before retrieving her neglected boots from the back of the wardrobe. On the way out she tugged on the only hat she could find in a hurry; an ugly red woolly one with wobbly reindeer ears that Polly had put in her Christmas stocking.
‘Very cute. All you need is a red Rudolph nose and you’ll be all set.’ Hunter McQueen lounged against her car. ‘I couldn’t resist finding out what a cream tea is.’ His mischievous smile re-emerged. ‘Plus I figured we might as well make the best of being forced to spend these couple of days together. All the better to keep your sister happy.’
Laura resented having logic and common-sense used against her.
‘Do we have a deal?’ He stuck out his hand in a challenge and stared her down.
Chapter Four
If she realised how alike they were, Laura would turn tail and flee. Hunter used his innately southern, talkative, tactile side to cover up the darker aspects of his personality while Laura retreated behind conventional British reserve. She carried a perpetual air of cautiousness about her, as though if she dared to relax for even a moment bad things would happen. The old expression about still waters running deep could have been written for them both.
‘I thought we were tryin’ to keep Polly happy?’
Laura reluctantly shook his hand. ‘Fine.’ The reluctant concession was obviously the best he’d get and Hunter grabbed her hand.
‘Ouch. If you don’t mind I’d prefer to have some bones left intact when you’re done.’
Hunter chuckled and made a point of waggling each of her short, sturdy fingers. ‘You’re good.’
‘I thought we were trying to be . . . cordial.’
‘Cordial? Who on God’s green earth uses that word outside of the boring English Lit classes they forced us to endure in high school?’
‘Are you calling Charles Dickens and Jane Austen boring?’
‘Just callin’ it as I see it. No red-blooded American boy who spent his teenage years obsessing about football, girls and his first car cared a hoot for them.’ He laid on the ignorant, male cliché with a trowel out of pure self-defence.
‘I can only imagine.’ Laura’s mouth twitched and her cheeks puffed with the effort of not laughing. One day he’d catch her out and discover what a genuine smile would do to her everyday serious expression. He suspected the transformation would blindside him. ‘Do you want to go to Dartmoor or not?’ she asked him.
‘The rain’s gettin’ worse.’
She examined the grey, sodden sky. ‘Welcome to Devon in January. It’s one of the most unpredictable months of the year and that’s saying something.’ Laura’s piercing gaze swept him from head to toe. ‘You’ve got a waterproof coat and decent boots. Unless American men are constructed in a vastly different way from British ones you won’t melt in a touch of water.’
