Page 45 of Ropers Can't Tie Knots
This thing with Hunter wasn’t supposed to be complicated. It was the means to an end for both of us, but somewhere along the way, I let it mean more to me.
A light patter of rain hits the tin roof of the porch, and I wrap the blanket around me tighter while I dip into the melancholy that sneaks up on me around this time. I’m not sure how long I sit there, stewing in my sadness, but when the patio door opens, my heart lifts when Hunter steps out.
“Hey.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Can I join you?”
“It’s your porch. Go ahead.”
I don’t mean to sound so caustic, but I’ve barely seen him for two weeks. I’m allowed to be a little pissy about it even while I hate doing it.
He settles next to me, and his warmth is welcome on the chilly day. He smells good too, like he’s been baking pie or something.
“Listen…Gabe…” He releases a long sigh, and I turn towards him. “I’m sorry for being such a prick that night. It…I didn’t know what to do.” His throats bobs and he keeps his gaze on his hands. Hands that set me on fire with a single touch, but keep their distance when things get too difficult. “I’m, ah, not good at this sort of thing, and I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He means it. I know he does, but I need more than words.
“You did, though. Whether you meant to or not.”
“I’m sorry.” He swallows again, and I turn to stare out into the back pasture. After a moment, a warmth settles on my thigh, and Iglance down to find Hunter’s hand, palm up. When I turn to him, his gaze is open, and the soft vulnerability that he’s shared with me a few times before is back.
I’m not sure if I should accept his offering and allow myself to keep getting closer to a man who pushes me away every time things move to a deep level, but I could use a friend right now. Maybe it’s wrong for me to use him for comfort, but right now, he’s offering, so I’m taking.
Sliding my hand in his, I shift, and Hunter pulls me closer as the rain increases its intensity. It’s hard to see the individual rain drops now as the rain intensifies, but the patter on the roof has an odd comfort. His arm moves and settles around my shoulders, and I rest my head against him.
A calloused thumb wipes the wetness from my cheek. “Why are you sad, counsellor?” His gentle voice is like another blanket around me, and despite being angry with him, I talk.
“I miss my sisters today. Sometimes I get sad—depressed, actually—in the fall, around the days of their deaths. This is one of those days.”
“Do you want to talk about them? Or…anything that might help?”
“Not today. I just want to feel it for a while.”
Hunter says nothing, but his thumb keeps wiping the odd tear from my cheeks, and it shouldn’t make me feel better that he’s seeing me like this, and sitting with me, but it does. His quiet presence helps, and as much as I wish I could remain angry with him…I can’t.
“I’ll sit here and feel it with you, Gabe. For as long as you need.”
And he does.
“Mr. Davis?”
Penny pokes her head through my office door.
“Yes?”
“You have a delivery.”
“You can sign for anything. You know that.” I turn back to my screen, researching how to include intellectual property into a will for a rancher who has a secret pen name and writes romance novels. It’s an odd thing to know about a big, burly guy with a goat farm.
It’s also a distraction from the man whom I call husband in name only. Thoughts of him and his multiple layers keep invading my mind. It’s unsettling that I’m letting a man take over my thoughts so much, but Hunter Burke is a puzzle I can’t seem to walk away from.
“Not this delivery,” Penny states.
Pushing away from my desk, annoyed more than I should be, I brush by her and walk to the front of my office, where I pause in front of a man dressed as a giant teddy bear.
“Gabe Davis?”
“That’s me, yes.”
He passes me a stuffed bear that looks a lot like his outfit, and then hands me a bouquet of teal-coloured carnations. He blowsinto a little harmonica thing, then unfolds a sheet of paper that he sings from. Badly.
