He tossed the covers away and dragged his clothes back on. ‘Thereisnorightway to say I’m good enough to share your bed for a few nights as long as I leave like an obedient puppy when you’re through with me.’
* * *
This was what she’d dreaded. What was it with her and men? She never got it quite right. Mike turned out to be an unfaithful, possessive bully and now Hunter expected too much despite her warnings.
‘I told you I was offering this. Only this.’ Laura’s voice rose. ‘What part of that didn’t you understand?’ Her cruel words madehim flinch but softening wasn’t an option. Not after she’d fought hard for her independence.
‘Oh I understood.’ His raspy whisper tortured her. ‘I guess it was foolish to think last night affected you as much as it did me.’ Hunter’s deep sigh resonated through the room. ‘I sure got that wrong.’
No, you didn’t, but for my own peace of mind it’s my turn to lie,she thought to herself. ‘The sex was good. No, better than good. Great.’ Laura forced herself to smile. ‘You’re a very considerate lover.’
‘Considerate?’ He glowered. ‘That’s damning praise if ever I heard it.’
‘Would you prefer inconsiderate?’
He tugged on his battered cowboy boots and straightened to his full height. ‘Don’t fret I’ll steer clear of you at the wedding and then get out of your hair for good.’
She knew he would still be in her mind and heart but stared down at the bedcovers until his heavy footsteps thudded down the stairs and the front door slammed shut on his way out.
Large, hot tears inched down her face and she ruthlessly brushed them away. Nothing was going to spoil Polly’s wedding if Laura had to stitch on a permanent smile for the next two days. She refused to ring Polly for a good moan because her sister was quite rightly floating on a magical fluffy wedding cloud far above mundane concerns. Hopefully by the morning she could hide her feelings well enough to fool Polly, but it wouldn’t happen tonight while her confrontation with Hunter was so raw.
A tease of cinnamon reached her nose and she ripped the sheets and pillowcases off the bed. Next she took the longest, hottest shower her inadequate plumbing could manage before choking down a slice of cheese on toast with a large mug of sweet tea. By seven o’clock she sat on the sofa and grimaced at the dull, beige walls. With no solid plan in mind she checked the openingtimes of the nearest DIY shop and found there was an hour left until it closed. Laura replaced her pyjamas with old jeans and a thick black jumper, broke the speed limit and then had to grit her teeth while an annoying salesman tried to convince her that greys, neutrals and earth tones were this year’s popular colours. She’d had neutral up to her eyeballs. If she didn’t have the guts to take a chance on Hunter, she could at least shake up this aspect of her life.
Back home she almost wrenched her back trying to shift the living room furniture into the middle of the room. After covering up her carpet with old sheets she prised open the paint tin. Laura stuck the brush in and sucked in a deep breath before painting the first swath of sunshine yellow on the wall. She’d heard the old song about washing a man out of your hair but wasn’t sure if painting one out worked the same way. By the morning she should know.
Chapter Twenty
Hunter worked the benefits of being a conspicuous stranger to the utmost and used his affable, southern charm on the barman. A couple of pints and a shepherd’s pie later Adam Taylor was his new best friend.
‘There’s Kiki now, ask her yourself if I’m spinning a yarn.’ Adam nodded towards a tired, washed-out, very pregnant blonde woman easing herself into a chair by the fire. ‘We worked together here for about six months. In this job you get good at sizing up people but she still fell for Russell’s chat up lines. I don’t care if he’s someone high and mighty at the hospital, the man’s still a wanker.’
‘You won’t get any argument from me on that score.’ Hunter rubbed at a tender spot on the back of his head. ‘I don’t want to freak her out.’
‘I’ll take her a fresh drink and put in a word for you.’
‘You’re a good guy.’
The colour rose in his cheeks. ‘She deserves better.’
‘She sure does.’ He watched while the barman took Kiki an orange juice and a frown crossed her face. Finally she glanced his way and shrugged.
Adam cleared a few glasses from the tables and returned behind the bar. ‘Take these.’ He thrust a bag of crisps at Hunter. ‘Prawn cocktail flavour. She can’t get enough of them.’
‘Seriously? You Brits are weird.’
‘Says the man who probably eats maple syrup on his sausages.’
‘With a stack of buttermilk pancakes? Nothin’ better.’
‘Weird is as weird does.’ Adam grinned before his good humour faded away. ‘If there’s anything I can do to help screw one over on the good doctor, let me know.’
‘I sure will and thanks again.’ Swinging the bag of crisps in his hand Hunter prepared to put ‘Operation Sink Mike Russell’ into action.
* * *
At the shop there were a hundred shades of yellow and she’d managed to select one with a distinctly green tinge. It reminded her of someone who’d eaten too much ice cream and was on the verge of throwing up. Not exactly the look she’d been aiming for.
She flopped down on the sofa, kicked off her shoes and rested her feet on the coffee table. The doorbell startled her out of a light doze and she hurried out to discover Johnny on the doorstep brandishing a bottle of whisky.
