Page 55 of The Spider Queen
Frowning in confusion, I looked at his face—and understanding dawned. He was staring at me with unabashed hunger.
I swallowed. “Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh.’” Hunter sat up and ran a hand through his messy hair. “Breakfast?”
I nodded.
“Can you get up on your own, or do you need help?”
“I’m good,” I assured him.
He leaned over and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Find some sweats in my dresser. I’ll get breakfast started.”
Warmth curled through my belly. “You’re cooking?”
“Yeah.” He tried to move away, but my arms shot out and enveloped him from behind. I pressed my cheek to the center of his back and just held on, taking a moment.
“What?” he asked.
“You’re better than anyone should ever be allowed to be.”
He chuckled. “I have no idea what that means.”
I released him and with a rueful shake of my head, I held in everything I was beginning to feel for him. He’d come to my rescue on more than one occasion, yet he wasn’t demanding or asking me for more than I could give. He wanted to get to know me and no matter what I admitted or revealed, he didn’t shy away.
“Don’t be long,” he said, with a quick kiss to my lips.
I watched him leave his bedroom, admiring the view of his athletic body. Long and lean, sun-kissed skin, blond-haired.
Not the type of guy I thought I wanted. But I did. I wanted Hunter.
I got up and went to his dresser, starting at the top drawer and working my way down. The bottom drawer had a wealth of sweats. I found a pair with drawstrings. As I pulled it out, my hand encountered something cool and smooth. A necklace. On a simple silver chain dangled a square, stained-glass pendant, no bigger than a Scrabble tile. The picture was a red flower I recognized.
It was my name.
I debated on putting it back in the drawer and pretending I’d never found it, but curiosity won out. Leaving Hunter’s bedroom, I held the pendant in my hand. It warmed to my touch.
Hunter stood at the kitchen counter whisking a bowl of eggs, back to me.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Breakfast,” he quipped without turning around.
“No—this.” I walked up next to him and held out the necklace. “I wasn’t snooping, I swear. It was in the drawer with your sweats.”
“I know you didn’t snoop.”
“You wanted me to find it,” I said with realization.
He smiled. “Maybe. I bought it for you.”
“When?”
“I found it the night I took you to the junk store.”
I stared at him for a long moment and then I said, “Will you help me put it on?”
His smile was wide and effortless. He set down the bowl of eggs and then reached for the necklace. Just as the clasp snapped into place, the front door of the apartment opened. Jonah and Anita entered, laughing and smiling.
